“The serpent,” I murmur and shiver, because that was one damn big, scary thing, “may have influenced their perception of you.”
“Nonsense. They wanted me chained from the start.”
“To be fair, so did I,” I whisper.
“But you changed your mind.”
“It seems I did.” Unsettled, I set about pulling the covers off the bed to shake them. “I understand that it’s unfair.”
“Very.”
“But what will I do with you?”
“Take me to the royal library,” he says.
I laugh. “Will you please give up on that stupid notion?”
“Wouldn’t you rather go to the royal palace, back in your world, rather than be stuck in this awful place?”
“I would,” I say quietly. “All I want is to get back home.”
“There you go. I’ll help you.”
“You haven’t explained how you propose to do that.” I pull off furs, mantles, pieces of old paper… gnawed bones and feathers. “Gods, this man is a pig.”
“Didn’t I tell you he’s a barbarian?”
I shudder, shaking off everything, folding it and setting it aside, then using my hands to brush the bones and assorted trash out of the niche. “You are avoiding my question, I notice.”
“I’m not.”
Deep inside the niche, set against the wall, there’s a small rectangular object. Getting on all fours, I crawl toward it. “Then go ahead. I’m all ears.”
“I… can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Pardon me, but I don’t know if I can trust you,” Olm says stiffly. “You almost left me inside that… that dark place.”
“Isn’t the end result what really matters?”
He’s quiet. Maybe he’s thinking about it and taking his sweet time. Then I forget my impatience with him because the object I’ve found is…
“It’s a book.” I sit back on my heels, turning it this way and that to examine it from all angles.
“What?”
“A book.” Bound in worn leather, it’s as large as Olm’s, which is to say, it fits nicely in my hands. It’s tied with a leather band, the ends knotted, and has a metal lock. The pages are pressed together so tightly I can’t pry them apart. I wonder what sort of book it is.
Huffing in frustration, I rattle the lock, but it doesn’t give.
“Usually,” a low, growly male voice says, startling the crap out of me, “when a book is locked, it’s because you aren’t supposed to open it.”
Swallowing a gasp, I turn around, and there is Roane, looking murderous. “Your book, is it?”
“It’s my nest, so what do you think?”
“Sorry. I thought all books belonged to the library, not individual people.” Hurriedly, I put it back where I found it.“Any particular reason why it’s here and not with the other books?”
