She harrumphs. “What?”
“Roane may be a formidable warrior librarian of legend, but he has trouble sending all the monsters back into the books, even though he pretends to have everything under control.”
Ardruna drops her paws from the balustrade. “Fine. It’s true. There are simply too many monsters. Nobody can keep the situation in check, only… control the damage.”
“Are you saying the problem existed before Roane’s arrival?”
“I suppose.”
“But it doesn’t make any sense.” I tap my fingers on the balustrade. “Why send in these warrior librarians if they can’t control the books? Why not just… drop the books inside and let this world take its own course?”
She watches me but I can’t read those flat, blue lion eyes.
“So where is Roane?” I ask after a long, awkward moment, still thinking. “You said you were going to show me.”
Maybe having a librarian is simply a tradition. Or maybe without one, this world will break apart and burst open into ours, a thought that makes me feel cold.
Or maybe… maybe Ardruna pretends to know more than she actually does.
“Let’s see if we can locate him.” She finally looks away and I heave a small sigh of relief as her attention shifts away from me. “He often hunts by the river where the hairy beasts go to drink.”
“Hairy beasts?”
“I believe Roane calls them “hairy bastards,” but I’m not sure that’s their official denomination.” She laughs. “They look like oversized donkeys but have yellow spots on their hides and long manes. That’s the best meat you can get in this world, although hunting it is dangerous. The beasts are unpredictable.”
“So that’s the meat you gave me? Not wildcat?”
“That was wildcat. You can’t get too picky here. I think…” She growls. “I think he’s hunting lunch for you. He’s a terrible host, but he’s trying his best. He seems worried about how weak you are.”
I don’t know what to make of that. My mouth flaps but no sound emerges. I clear my throat and try again. “Am I in the way of his plans?”
“Well, he has enough on his plate without worrying about you fainting again.”
I bristle. “That’s hardly my fault.”
“Indeed. There, look. By the river Achlys. Can you see him?”
I squint in the diffuse light that seems to emanate from the hole-riddled walls and roof of the massive cavern we’re in, gazing down at the glittering river meandering through the city and the meadows. “Where?”
“You should see the glint of his knives and scimitars soon enough.” She puts her paws on the rail again. “Look down. From here you can see the small plains, the hills, the deserted city, the fields and gorges. There are areas connected to major books that have opened in the past, maybe still leaking magic and monsters, and occasionally, we also get new breaches.”
“Breaches. So that’s how more monsters escape? Is that what Roane meant?”
She nods and offers no other comment.
This world doesn’t quite make sense, and I don’t have all the information I need to figure it out. I think of the book hidden in Roane’s nest. The journal. I wonder what he’s writing in it. What’s lurking in his heart.
Where is he? I study the slope of the city underneath us, the ribbon of the river crossing it, the crumbling bridges, the overgrown hedges taking over entire quarters. The meadows and groves beyond, the hills and the mist-wreathed mountains.
Up in the sky, against the cave’s faintly glowing roof, winged shapes fly. Not dragons. It’s strange not to see dragons above, although it’s hard to be sure of the creatures’ nature, too high up to make out more than the long wings and tails. Were they griffins?
I open my mouth to ask what they are, when a glint down by the river catches my eye.
“There!” I point down. “Is that Roane?”
“Well spotted,” Ardruna says. “Look at the herd. Can you see it?”
A dark mass jostles and writhes on the riverbank, and when I squint, I make out ox-like bodies and domed heads, steam rising from them in white clouds.
