The air inside the atrium was almost as frigid as it was outside. I didn’t bother to greet the pair behind the table in the entryway as I turned down the hall to the left and wound my way back to the room that housed Ashpoint’s library. Lit by sconces and scattered candles, it was crowded with rough-hewn bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling around the perimeter of the space. Narrower cases packed the center of the room with barely enough clearance to walk single file between them. Just inside the door, the librarian perched in a worn armchair tucked up behind a long table that served as her desk, sorting a stack of books.
“Evening, Leah.” I leaned a hip against the edge of the table.
The young woman peered at me from beneath the chestnut fringe pressed to her forehead by a black wool hat. “Mister Koesters.”
“Fletcher wouldn’t happen to be around, would he? I was hoping to see about his progress with the journals.”
She shook her head. “He’s been doing most of his work at home where it’s warm. And no estimate as to when he’llfinish with them yet. Hasn’t even let me take a peek at them, though I’ve been eager to.”
I grimaced. “Don’t be. They’re pretty awful.”
“Can’t help my curiosity,” she said with a grin. “Even Vaughn’s name still carries such weight, and it’s been nearly half a decade since he was killed. I would love to know what inner workings drove him to such cruelty.” She sobered after a moment and cleared her throat. “Apologies. I can only imagine what it was like to grow up in his shadow.”
“Don’t do that either,” I said.
She returned my sad smile. “Probably best if I don’t. But I’ll send word once he’s finished with them and brings them back in, if you’re sure you want to read them again.”
I chuckled. “Wantto andneedto are very different things. I appreciate it though, Leah. Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.”
“Have a good night, Kit.”
Back out in the square, I let the wind numb some of my disappointment. Undoubtedly, with so many to go through, it would take Fletcher months to complete his work. By then, we could be dead, or finished with our Oaths already.
And I couldn’t help but wonder if he would realize what I finally had the night of the raid on the house: that Merrick was the protege my father frequently referenced.
I’d used incriminating entries to blackmail the herbalist into giving me hemlock, but there were many more volumes detailing the nefarious things my father and his protege had done or planned to do. That look of horrified recognition on Merrick’s face when he’d abruptly stopped reading aloud in the middle of my living room had been telling. It had taken that moment formeto make the connection between ‘O’ and Merrick Oliver, but Levitt andothers who had been here while Merrick was under my father’s wing wouldn’t need much time at all. They would recognize him there in those pages. It just remained to be seen whether Fletcher was loyal to the Right Hand, or if his sympathies lay with the Shroud Warden.
I hoped it was the former.
The sound of boisterous laughter and raised voices carried out into the street as I arrived at the tavern. The sun had dipped below the cliffs and plunged the square into near darkness, but the lanterns on either side of the door promised light and warmth within. My fingers were numb, and I was more than ready to be in out of the cold.
Inside, most of the tables were full and every seat at the counter was taken. I spotted Penny tucked into a booth, but before I could make my way to him, a gratingly familiar voice barked my name from the end of the bar.
“Mister Koesters!”
Anders waved a flagon of ale, nearly sloshing it over Reimond’s head in his enthusiasm. The smaller man was pinned under Anders’s arm. He looked desperate for escape.
I fought back a grimace as I approached the bar. I bypassed my fellow initiates to hand the skillet off to the bartender, then steeled myself to suffer through what I hoped would be a brief interaction with one of my least favorite people.
Anders set down his ale and clapped his hand on my shoulder. “Heard you got back weeks ago,” he said. Reimond attempted to step away, but Anders tightened his grip to keep him close. “Should’ve known you’d show me up, old timer.”
“Not just me,” I said, “Rosie and Tessa got back a week ago.”
Anders waved a hand, thenretrieved his flagon. “We traveled with them for a while. Decided it was only fair to give them a few days’ head start, so we stopped off in Oakwell to sample some of their famed whiskey.” He leaned in close enough that I could smell the stench of alcohol on his breath. “Didn’t seem sporting otherwise.”
He didn’t seem to notice Reimond shaking his head, and I fought back a grin.
“Another round for everyone!” Anders shouted, and loud cheers erupted around the tavern.
I took the distraction as an opportunity to escape. I wound my way through the crowd to Penny’s table and slid in across from him. He was nursing a nearly full cup of ale, and there were three untouched flagons on the table in front of him.
His face broke into a bright smile. “Took you long enough.” He slid one foot forward to rest against mine under the table. It wasn’t nearly enough contact for either of us, but it would have to do until we made it home.
“Sorry. I stopped at the library to see if I could catch Fletcher and get an update on my father’s journals.” At Penny’s raised brows, I shook my head. “Still nothing.”
He failed to hide his relief as he sat back in his seat. “Can’t say I’m disappointed not have them back.” Drawing a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he gestured to the collection of alcohol on the table. “But I don’t want to talk about them. Feel free to drink to your heart’s content tonight. Anders is buying, apparently.”
I tugged one of the flagons toward me and swirled the amber liquid inside. When I didn’t readily drink, Penny set his own ale on the table.
