Kasira made a considering noise. “Perhaps more like a backyard brew that burns all the way down.”
“Ah, but a flame requires both tinder and spark.” Her teasing was warm and lighthearted, and it made Kasira’s corrosiveness feel out of place. She allowed herself to soften, not realizing how high Allaster had raised her hackles. It fit with Eirlana’s character to grow frustrated with him, but it was more powerful an emotion than Kasira had felt in some time. It bothered her that it had been Allaster who ignited it.
Kasira feigned hesitation before venturing, “I mean no disrespect, but you’re the first person here who hasn’t looked at me with barely concealed disgust. Why is that?”
Airamay’s smile faltered. “I’m sorry to hear that. I prefer to let my own experiences define my opinions, rather than past prejudices. I’m sure the others will come around in time.”
This was nearly too perfect. The people Kasira had conned in Thane’s employ were the kind to assume the worst of the world.They looked for the lie in every statement, every interaction, just like Allaster. But Airamay was another type altogether. She was genuinelynice, and there was no one easier to manipulate than a nice person.
Still, Kasira knew better than to think Airamay guileless. Everyone wanted something—she had only to discover what. In the meantime, perhaps she had found a new way of securing her mental map of the Library.
She inclined her head. “I appreciate that. While you’re here, I don’t suppose I could trouble you to show me where my quarters are?”
“He didn’t show you to your room yet?”
“Not exactly.”
Understanding settled across Airamay’s face, alongside a weariness that Kasira expected had a story behind it. “Fates above,” she said with a small sigh. “That man will be the death of me. I’ll do you one better: How about a tour?”
They began with the path back to the barracks, which flowed through artifact rooms, sitting rooms with roaring hearths, and miniature greenhouses resembling the foyer. Each room was wrapped in heartwood with high, vaulted ceilings and intricate crown moldings, the walls a blend of pale silver stone and the dark roots of the tree above that had wormed through. Delicate carvings decorated handrails and doorframes, mosaics consisting of wrought iron and colorful stained glass filling every arching window.
The whole castle had a comforting, cozy feel to it that seeped beneath her skin, so different from the hard edges of life in the Malikinar. She wanted to sink into it and let it overwhelm her, if only for a moment, but Eirlana would find no magic in these halls, no beauty in its art, so she kept her mask imperious as they emerged from a sitting room bedecked in gold, from the floor rugs to the mantel.
“I’ve never heard of the position of First Mage,” Kasira began as Airamay held open a heavy oak door for her to pass through. “What do you do exactly?”
“My primary job is to oversee the mages’ work.” Airamay let the door swing shut. “Day-to-day, most of the mages answer the countries’ calls for help in relocating beasts or handling dangerous magicalartifacts. Or else tend to the on-site beasts, study their primary hypothesis, maintain the Library, or carry out general tasks. I decide who does which of those things and when, and I’m typically the liaison between mages and the Librarian and Assistant.”
An edge of exhaustion had crept into her voice at the end, and Kasira sensed a thread to pull. “If you do all of that, what does Allaster do?”
“All of that and more,” Airamay replied without hesitation, quelling Kasira’s theory that the Librarian might be passing off work onto her. “The Librarian and their Assistant handle the more volatile beasts and oversee the majority of Amorlin’s international relations.”
Which was why Kasira had been uniquely suited for Vera’s plan. As a criminal-turned-Malik, she had experience dealing with dangerous beasts and people alike. That said, she didn’t relish the idea of facing down a Zeraswithouttrying to kill it. She would hopefully be given magic before then, but that was a question for when she and Airamay were on better terms.
“Allaster and I have been sharing that work in the absence of an Assistant,” Airamay continued. “So you can imagine why I at least am quite glad to have you here.”
Kasira offered her a tentative smile, not wanting to seem too eager, though in time she would make a point of absorbing some of Airamay’s responsibilities. “Exactly how long has Allaster been at the Library?” she asked as they turned down a wide hall of stained glass.
“Since he was nine years of age. That was nearly a hundred and twenty years ago.”
Genuine surprise flitted across Kasira’s face. It certainly explained his bitter pessimism and biting lack of patience, but it put her task in a new perspective. Allaster wasn’t a fool—she had known that from the moment she met him—but he was something even more dangerous than that: He was experienced.
She would have to mind every detail.
One of which her mind snagged on immediately. “But I heard him talking to his brother earlier.”
“Ambric is one hundred and thirty-three.” Airamay smiled at her shock. “He was once a mage. The Library’s magic extends our age, andthough we return the power when we retire, the effects last for some time.”
She spoke of it so simply, spoke of all of it that way. After a lifetime of hiding her interest in magic, Kasira didn’t know what to make of being able to discuss it so freely. Every word out of her mouth felt wrong, a mistake she would surely pay for, but Airamay only gestured her onward, past mages studying in front of steadily burning hearths or chatting over cups of tea. One carried a ruby-feathered Scarlin with a damaged wind on their shoulder. Another fed little bits of meat to a Vyan, which the fox-like creature gobbled up instantly.
In the orphanage, the Library had been a cautionary tale the priests told of what befell those who stepped outside Haidra’s light. It was a place filled with people bowing beneath the weight of sin. Those whose souls were so corrupt, it had begun to seep from their eyes and mouths and noses. But these people hardly looked tainted. Rather, they appeared comfortable and at home here, a feeling Kasira couldn’t comprehend.
Which of them was Vera’s spy? Kasira didn’t like having an element of the plan she didn’t control in such a powerful position, but Vera had made it very clear what would happen if Kasira attempted to identify them. If she failed her task, if she revealed their plan or sought the spy, their bargain would be void. She would be exposed, renounced as a rogue actor and, by the Library’s laws, turned over to her home kingdom for sentencing.
Back to Belvar.
Still, the spy’s presence was a blade hovering above her neck, and there was no harm in looking. She scanned the mages, taking in their nations’ crests sewn over the hearts of their uniforms. There was the broad-faced hammer symbol of Jacara, and the four crystals of Ayador. But what would a mage from another country gain by working for Vera?
Besides the crossed swords of Kalthos, the only symbol she didn’t see was Avaria’s, with its centuries-old closed borders. But she had thought if anyone had contact with the reclusive country, it would bethe Library, as the Avari had as deep-rooted a connection to beasts as the Kalish did.
