“How are you?” Isa placed a hand on her mother’s shoulder.
“I am well.” Lady Bielsa patted her hand. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Would you mind if I went with Eva to deliver the robes?” Isa asked. “I have a question for Brother Elias.”
“Of course, you should go. It was your idea,” her mother responded. “Stop by the kitchen before you leave and see if they have anything to send along as well.”
“I will stay up with Papa tonight since I slept all day. You need some rest.” Isa squeezed her mother’s shoulder. “And I’ll be right back this time,” she called out as she left the room. “Fortunately, there’s no canyon between here and the monastery!”
As Eva brought their donation to the brother cook in the kitchen, Isa dashed to the library study where Brother Elias was sitting in his usual place.
“What do you know of curses?” she asked the good monk before she could second-guess her own audacity.
“Why?” His deep-set eyes stared at her shrewdly. “Have you gone and gotten yourself tangled in one?”
“No, not me,” she replied, thinking over her words carefully. “It’s more about a friend.”
“Oh, well.” Brother Elias sat back in his chair. “You should rethink the company you keep. Someone who is dabbling in curses probably isn’t the best of friends.”
“He’s not the one doing the dabbling,” Isa responded, immediately defending herself and Aden. “He’s the one who got dabbled on.”
“He?” The old man raised his eyebrows then quickly broke eye contact. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about curses, so there’s nothing I could do to help your friend.”
“I didn’t ask you to help him.” Isa crossed her arms, staring shrewdly back at him. He knew something and was hiding it.
She turned to the room around her. The haphazard chaos had been sorted into somewhat recognizable piles. “I see the sorting has made some progress. It’s almost looking like a proper library in here.”
The old man’s eyes crinkled into a smile. “That’s kind of you to say. It still feels like a small fragment of what we lost.”
Isa looked out to the mostly empty shelves in the library outside the study, a brilliant thought taking hold in her mind.
“You know,” she said, turning back to the monk, “our library in the mountains is a two-day journey away. Father mostly uses it for the books he doesn’t access frequently, but he still complains about not having enough space to house all his ‘dear friends’ as he calls them. Would you consider housing them here? It would not quite be a donation, more like a loan.”
“What a delightful idea,” Brother Elias replied, a new light in his eyes. “Only if it would be beneficial to you, though.”
“I’ll speak to my father as soon as he is well enough to discuss it, though I’m sure he’ll be more excited than both you and I combined. They would be cared for properly here, instead of locked away to deteriorate.” The more Isa discussed the idea, the more attached to it she became.
“They would be more than treasured here,” Brother Elias assured her, his eyes in that far-off place he went to while deep in thought.
“Wonderful,” Isa said, turning back to the empty shelves so her face was hidden. “Do you think Andrew could have been a Majis?” she asked, keeping her voice casual.
He paused for a few long moments, as though he hadn’t been listening. “Andrew?” he repeated.
“You know,” she said, turning back to face him. “Andrew, the swineherd fromThe Queen of Silverreign?”
“Oh, no. Of course not.” The monk waved his hand, dismissing her assumption. His eyes still drifted under his half-closed eyelids.
“Then how did he break Amelya’s curse at the end of the second volume, if he could not control magic?” Isa hoped he would answer her absentmindedly. She felt mildly guilty about her manipulation.
“Oh, you don’t need magic to break a curse—” The old man slapped his hand over his mouth. The far-off look was gone. “Are you trying to get us both killed?” he hissed, looking around her to make sure no one else was within earshot.
“No.” Isa stepped closer to the desk and leaned over it, her eyes begging him to trust her. “I’m trying to keep myfriendalive.” She kept her voice a quiet whisper.
Brother Elias exhaled slowly, his eyes scrutinizing every inch of her face. He dropped his hands to the table in front of him.
“Curse,” he said softly. His eyes stared at the wall behind her, his gaze softening. “C-U-R-S-E.” He nodded to himself as he spelled out the word. “Interestingly, if you switch two letters you get C-U-R-E-S. Cures.” His eyes darted back to hers for half an instant.
Isa leaned even closer to him over the table. She nodded, unsure how to decipher his riddle. The only thing she knew about magic was what Aden had shared about the seamstress and the traitorous councilor. “Is it chaos or harmony?” she whispered.
