Spotting Allaster reading at his podium, she joined him. “Did you see Iylis?”
“I did,” he replied without looking up.
“And?”
“And what do you think I’m researching?” Allaster half shut the book to reveal the title in gold script:Amorlin: The Founding.“I’ve read this before though, and I don’t remember any mention of Iylis. It talks of the spirits that tend to the Library and refers vaguely to a lead figure that’s likely him, but mostly it’s about Amorlin’s establishment. It doesn’t even talk about how the first Librarian originally connected with the Library’s magic.”
“That makes sense, doesn’t it?” Kasira asked. “You said no one but the Librarian and their Assistant were meant to know that, so I assume it’s not recorded in public texts.”
“It’s not, but this is from my private collection.” Allaster let the book close with a decisive thud. “But this wouldn’t be the first piece of historical information regarding the Library I’ve been unable to find anything about.”
Kasira couldn’t help but smile at the way his brow furrowed in vexation, as though there were nothing more maddening to him than a fact left undiscovered. He pursued knowledge like air, and it had a way of stoking her own curiosity. “Let me see it.” She stepped closer, Allaster’s arm brushing hers when he failed to move quickly enough. She pretended not to notice as he hovered beside her while she turned one page then the next, inspecting the binding.
“There.” She pointed to the inner crease where one page had three extra tiny holes. “This page was resewn into the bundle, and the whole thing reglued into the binding. Someone re-bound this book, likely after removing pages.”
His frown deepened. “How did you know to look for that?”
“I told you: I like stories.” So much so that she had stolen pages from her favorite books and taken them with her, rereading them until the papers became too travel-worn to keep. Of course, that couldn’t be Eirlana’s explanation. “When my parents’ money started drying up, I would reread the same old books over and over again until they needed to be repaired.”
Allaster softened at that, just like she knew he would. “I don’t like this. Someone went through a lot of trouble to erase information about the Library, and I …” He trailed off, his eyes narrowing atsomething behind her. She followed his gaze to where the sword hung on the wall, its wrapping still fluttering in an invisible breeze.
“What in the Saints’ names …” he muttered, striding toward it.
Kasira hesitated. She had deliberately let the topic of the sword drop upon realizing Allaster couldn’t see it, not wanting to draw his attention to something that knew her real name. If he touched it, if it spoke to him the same way it did her—
With a snap of her fingers, she beat him to the wall and grabbed it by the hilt.
KASIRA!
She dropped it, gasping at the magic that lanced through her. The point struck the ground, the length of the blade teetering. Allaster seized it by the handle before she could react, and Kasira went very, very still. Every instinct told her to run, but Allaster only stared at it with the wide-eyed fascination of one who had found a sword on a wall he’d always known to be empty.
“Did you hear that?” she asked tentatively.
He turned the blade to inspect the tree symbol stamped into the pommel. “Hear what?”
Tucking away her relief, she let satisfaction settle in its place. “Told you it was there.”
“The Library hid it from me.” His attention returned to her at last, his gaze searching. “But not you.”
He offered it to her by the hilt, and Kasira took it reluctantly. This time the blade was mercifully silent, but she could still feel that undercurrent of power in it, the same one that had lured her here that night.
“What is it?” she inquired. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I don’t know.” Allaster leaned around the bookcase shielding them from view from the rest of the main library and called, “Iylis?”
A moment later, the leopard trotted over. When he spotted the sword, he ground to a halt, his tail flaring straight up. “Where did you find that?” He hissed like a cat warning away a foe.
“On the wall.” Kasira pointed at the space the sword had occupied. “You know it?”
Iylis circled them with his back curved defensively. “It’s a relic, much like Lord Allaster’s bow and quiver. An artifact of ancient power.”
Allaster reached for the tip of the wrapping, and Iylis let out another warning hiss. “I will not suffer more secrets about this place,” he told the leopard.
Iylis lifted his snout with an air of distaste. “Fine, do as you wish. You never do listen to me.” He stalked back toward the couch, tail twitching.
“He seems … grumpier than usual,” Kasira noted.
“Someone probably broke a cup.” Allaster began to unwrap the covering, revealing a smooth, metal blade the color of onyx. The curved edge had the sharpness of a beast’s claws, every inch of it as pristine as the day it had been forged. No nicks, no scratches, as though it had never seen battle.
