The flutter of wings echoes again as I retrace my steps, returning to the nest. Fluttering, slithering, clattering… Was it so noisy in here before? I’d never noticed.
It sends goosebumps over my skin and sets my heart racing. I’ve never walked these halls alone before and I keep reminding myself that Roane isn’t far. If I scream, he will hear me for sure.
What else lives in here?I want to ask him. I need to know more about this world. About him.
Rushing between the twin rows of pillars is disorienting. Space seems to distort, the distance between my location and the nest seems to lengthen. The temple shakes again and I yelp when snakes made of stone slither over the floors, then sink back into the patterns. Were they really ever there? I turn in a circle, panting, then frown as I lose my sense of direction.
Something crashes into the pillar over my head and I scream, spinning around and running as if wolves were nipping at my heels.
Thankfully, I end up running in the right direction. The soot on the pillars lets me know I’m getting close, and then I see the familiar area on my left: the cold ashes of a fire, the pot knockedover, the griffin egg, as well as the pile of clothes on the floor, some gnawed bones left by Ardruna, and the nest.
Home,I think and shake my head at myself.Really? This dirty nest is your home?
One adapts. This is the only safe place for me in this world. It looks empty, though.
“Roane?” I shout. “Where are you?”
Only silence greets me.
Where did he go? Fine bones crunch under my soles as I walk toward the nest. I climb onto the niche, sprawling among the furs and pieces of paper and fabric. I’m bone-tired and hungry again.
How does Roane do it? When does he manage to hunt for food when the monsters attack non-stop and nowhere is safe? How do you survive when every moment of every day you need to be on high alert?
It’s exhausting.
I nestle among the furs and hope they are all right. Roane, Ardruna, Talton. After a moment, I realize I’m worried about them and haven’t thought about my real family in a while.
Instantly, guilt hits me in the gut and I sit up. I should be working on finding a way to get out of this world, not feeling bad for disturbing the lives of those living here, much less… caring.
Pulling myself to the back of the niche, I press my back to the wall, letting my hands burrow into the furs, and I encounter something hard.
Of course. The book. Roane’s diary. His journal, locked with a proper lock and all.
“It’s odd,” I whisper to myself as I pull it out. “Why is it hidden here and isn’t inside the sanctum with the other librarians’ journals?”
“Because he’s writing it.” Olm appears inside the nest, sitting down beside me. “Easier to keep it close.”
“But Ardruna said she has never seen him write in it. Besides, you need a lectern, a quill and an inkwell. Blotting paper. And this is the official log of the library’s guardian, not a farmer’s ledger.”
Roane had no qualms about my reading the other journals. He would have let me read them if that quake hadn’t hit. So why is he opposed to my taking a look at this one?
After a brief hesitation, I pull my knife out of my belt and stick the tip into the lock.
“What are you doing?” Olm asks.
“What does it look like? Breaking this lock. Opening this book.”
He leans toward me, lips parted. “Do it.”
“You only want me to do it because Roane forbade me from opening it.”
“That’s a good enough reason for me.”
I sigh. “I don’t believe you’re attracted to me. This jealousy thing you have going with Roane is a game and it has to stop.”
“Why don’t you believe it?”
“Because I don’t believe you have any real feelings.” I worry my lower lip with my teeth as I struggle to pry the lock open. It’s rusted, as if it hasn’t been opened in a very long time, which corroborates Ardruna’s observation. Roane hasn’t been using it.
