It's the motion that catches Martin's attention first, and he almost thinks it's just a trick of the shadows from his lantern. But then he sees the glowing eyes, and he instantly shoots to his feet as the thing approaches, and...

...talks to him. Quite politely, in fact, and it somehow both takes the wind out of his panicked sails and makes him much more viscerally anxious. Michael had started polite.

"U-um-- you, uh, d'you mean this?" He holds the book up, the light flickering off its worn leather bindings. It's not particularly well made, even before generations of grubby children got their hands on it, but he claps it quietly shut and offers it to the creature.

At full arm's length, ready to pull back again. He's got some self preservation.