“I didn’t have much information about the Areon before entering.”
“A common problem which can be solved by researching your destination before setting off.”
“Very droll,” I mutter. “Bringing Olm’s book here was an urgent matter. I could hardly take a few weeks to visit other libraries or storytellers to find out more.”
“Urgent? Did this dusty little book unleash any horrors on you?” The lioness’ tongue lolls.
“Laugh all you want,” I grind out. “But Olm here has the power to convince anyone holding his book to take him wherever he wants.”
“That’s some strong magic. Olm, huh?”
“Can you hear his voice? Olm, say something.”
“Shall I perform a somersault like a monkey in a circus?” Olm hisses. “No, thank you.”
“Why are you so sensitive?” I glare down at the book I’m lugging along. “At least be nice.”
“I’m insulted. Is there a law saying I can’t have feelings?”
“No, I can’t hear him,” the lioness says. “What has he told you?”
I sigh. “That he doesn’t remember much of his story but really wants to go to the royal library.”
“And you believe that he has lost his memory?”
“Well, most of the pages are blurred. So it’s possible he doesn’t have a record of his story.”
“A blurring spell?” The lioness slows down until she’s walking beside me, and I try not to flinch. She’s huge. Her shoulder reaches mine. “I should take a look once we stop.”
“No, don’t let the beast get her teeth into me again!” Olm wails.
“Take a look? What for?” I ask. “I’m about to leave the book in the library anyway.”
“Simple curiosity. I know a few things about magic. This is, after all, the realm of magical books.” She turns her head away. “Many things are possible in here which are impossible outside.”
“Tell her to stay away from me,” Olm insists.
“Lioness, what about him?” I ask softly.
“Him?Roane?What exactly are you asking me?”
I cast about for a specific question. “Why did he change his name?”
“Who says he did?”
Baffled, I slow down and the lioness produces an annoyed growl. “Didn’t he? He’s Ersil Davara. Why call himself by another name?”
“Roaneis the name I’ve always known him by. And you should be careful,” the lioness goes on.
“With him?”
“With this world. You saw the snake and the griffin. This is a library of monsters. Can you fight?”
“It was never a part of my education,” I say drily. “I was trained to recognize herbs and their uses and learned stories.”
“Pretty useless, then,” the lioness dismisses me, ambling along as if going for a stroll through this ruined city. “Regardless, be on your guard. Got a knife with you?”
“No.”
