She told May everything she had shared with Allaster, from Belvar to the Malikinar, culminating with a lie about finding Eirlana’s carriage overturned on the main road, the victim of a beast attack. Only Iylis had seen her arrive with guards and maids in tow, and she had already discredited him, should he suddenly decide to start spouting truths, but it was still a shakier cover than she would have liked. She would have to give the same story to Vera, as it explained how Kasira had known Eirlana was dead, and also the lack of a body—only bones remained.
“I’m so sorry, May,” she finished. “After everything I’ve done, how can you simply forgive me?”
“There is nothing simple about forgiveness.” May’s expression hardened, her words tinged sharply enough that Kasira wondered exactly how upset she was. “It is a choice to forgive, one that must be made again and again until it is second nature. But Ibelieveyou, and for now, that is enough.”
Outwardly, Kasira let her genuine relief show, while inside she settled into her new lie.
She was a thief who had always dreamed of the Library and, seeing an opportunity to become a part of it, had seized it without hesitation. She tried not to think about how thin the veneer on that one was, instead focusing on what it meant for her character: She wanted to be here, and she cared for the beasts and the Library. She would be angry at herself for having put it at risk. Desperate to be forgiven.
May crossed to where Kasira sat and laid a firm hand on her shoulder. “I understand now why you said you didn’t belong here, but con woman or noblewoman, you were meant to be Assistant Librarian.”
Kasira released a derisive laugh and stood, pacing across the room. “I don’t believe in fate the way you do, May. I don’t—”
“I’m not saying it wasn’t your choice,” May interrupted with a growing edge in her voice. Not just exasperation, but somethingmore. “I’m saying it was the right one. You are where you’re supposed to be, and that’s more than most people can hope for in life.”
“How can you say that?” Kasira spread her hands. “Look what I’ve done.”
May watched her pace. “I am. At everything you’ve done, not just the parts you want to forget. You’ve done good here, Kas. You were called, and you answered.”
“Called?” She stilled, truly caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
A look of deep wariness filled May’s face. “One day, that man will get his head out of his ass,” she muttered. “Amorlin has never rejected an Assistant because the people who choose to come here, the ones who seek to be a part of it, belong here. There is something in them the Library calls to. Something they cannot ignore. You were called, Kas, and youcame.”
That, she did not have a response prepared for. She had always felt a connection with the Library, a curiosity she couldn’t quite suppress. She had thought it her mother’s influence, but May was making it sound like something more. Something destined.
Don’t be a fool, she told herself.You aren’t destined for anything.
“A lot of good my being here has done,” she forced herself to say when the silence had stretched too long. “I’ve only gotten in the way.”
May shook her head vehemently. “He won’t admit it, but Allaster needs you. TheLibraryneeds you.” It was the desperation in her voice that made Kasira at last understand: May wasn’t just trying to convince Kasira, she was trying to convince herself. Kasira had always assumed May’s determination to make her and Allaster get along had been for the good of the Library, and while she still believed that was true, she was starting to think there was more to it.
“That said,” May added, “if you lie to me again, I will melt your knives.”
Kasira made herself laugh, but inside, she wondered exactly what Maywasn’twilling to do for the Library. Wondered what it felt like to be so assured in your path that your feet could find their way in the dark. What it meant to have not only a home, but a purpose that extended further than the next day, the next con.
She wondered what it was like to stay.
THEY WENT TOGETHERto Allaster’s office.
The Librarian was scribbling furiously on a piece of paper at his desk. The early afternoon sun slanted in at his back, alighting in the copper of his hair and making the henolite on his body glimmer, but Kasira barely glimpsed him before someone else captured her attention with the force of an earthquake.
A young man stood before Allaster’s desk bedecked in royal Kalish blue, the cloth gilded through. He was tall and lanky, his long, blond hair neatly plaited. With bright cerulean eyes and a narrow, pale face, he resembled some kind of bird, until he smiled. Then his lips thinned, and his teeth were bared, and he was the wolf she remembered.
Thane Ryarch.
It took all of Kasira’s self-control not to react, and even then, she had to swallow back a strangled noise as she stared at him. Suddenly, she was sixteen again, drawn into the shelter of his familiarity, of the safety his presence had once meant. For all Loraya had gone through at his hands, for all Kasira had wanted to leave in the end, her time in Thane’s crew had been some of the most stable, secure years of her life. Without him, she wouldn’t have become someone capable of infiltrating the Library of Amorlin.
Without him, she would never have ended up in Belvar in the first place.
“Kasira?” The sound of her true name on Allaster’s lips shattered the spell. He was looking at her with the same level of consternation he’d afforded Eirlana upon her arrival at the Library, and it bothered her more than it should.
“Who is this?” she asked as steadily as she could.
“Thane Ryarch,” Allaster said, and his voice was only mildly warmer than the tips of the snowcapped Endia Peaks. “Our newest Kalish mage.”
Thane sketched a bow, then rose with hungry eyes on Kasira. “Lady Kasira.”
Kasira’s mind spun through options of how to play this. Thane didn’t know she was responsible for his capture—unless Vera had told him. But if Vera wanted them to work together, she would have a vested interest in withholding that information. Which meant Thane would be angry with Kasira for leaving, and pained over Loraya’s death—but not murderous.
