“I had forgotten how irritating your kind is,” he mutters. “Let the other speak.”
“He means you,” I whisper to Gwyneth. “I hurt his feelings.”
Gwyneth squares her shoulders and puffs out her chest. “I am Gwyneth. Tell us where we are.”
He sighs like he’s super happy that he is now conversing with the sensible and smart sister. “You are in the living library.”
“Lorded over by the All Knowing?” I check. They ignore me, which is probably for the best.
“Only those of pure hearts and intent can enter.”
I am not sure how pure I am with the filthy things the knights have been doing to me. Perhaps the All Knowing made a mistake.
“I do not make mistakes,” he booms.
I drag my lip between my teeth.Bunkum poop. He can read minds.
“Sadly,” he agrees. “But a pure heart isn’t weighed by the things you do in the dark with those you love, but by how you see the realm and all its possibilities.”
As I consider his words, I pick up random items from the surrounding tables. Potion bottles, books, keys—lots of stuff that seems to belong here, but I have no idea why.
“I have kept watch over the knowledge which is yours by blood,” he continues.
Because we bled on a book? Nobody ever did that until us?
“Can we return at any time?” Gwyneth asks as she picks up things, too. Her big brain wants many diurnals to pick apart this library. “Because right now, we have an Idol problem, but I want to come back.”
“It is yours. You may return whenever you wish. Whisper my name, and I will always answer.”
That was better than bleeding every time. My heart beats wildly in my chest. I might downplay it, but this feels like it belongs to us. Not because we bled on the right book, but because we were always meant to find it. I swallow and consider what that means. Maybe everything that has happened has done so for a reason.
My elbow knocks into a table, and a potion falls off the side. The glass smashes and douses itself over a broom.
“There’s no ‘if you break it, you buy it’ sign,” I point out.
The All Knowing grumbles something that sounds an awful lot like “I’m too old for this shit.” I grab the damp broom, used to cleaning up my own messes since I make enough of them. But the handle jerks away from me, and the broom stands upright on its own.
“I’m pretty sure this broom was enchanted before I walked in here,” I say with a defensive edge to my words. “Can you clean up my mess?”
It busies itself doing as I ask, and a tempo later, the glass is gone. “Wow, you are my new favorite,” I say. I swear the broom blushes, and it rushes toward me, tickling my ankles under my skirts. I snort a very unladylike laugh.
“Gwyneth,” the All Knowing says. “Your gift is in the wooden box on the table.”
Ooh, we get gifts? She snaps open the box, and I hurry to look over her shoulder. “A quill?” she says. As far as gifts go, this is pretty boring. “Thank you.”
My sister is ever gracious in her words, but even I can feel her confusion as her gaze sweeps the thousands of books surrounding us.
“Take it with you. You’ll need it,” the All Knowing demands.
“Do I get a gift?” I ask as the broom makes it a mission to get under my skirts. Trust me to get a perverted cursed cleaning object.
“You have it already—something to sweep away the disasters you don’t want written into history. Now leave. I tire of you and need my strength for the journey ahead.”
“Stamina, dude. You need to stretch before we turn back up,” I advise.
A force pushes against my chest, and the air sucks out of my mouth as Gwyneth and I skid along the wooden floor of the passageway and blast into the original library.
The Stirlings loom over us as I snatch the handle of the broom and wrestle it out from under my skirts.
