Page 8 of Mistress of Hours

“But you’re not a fraud,” Cecelia laughed. “How could you think that? Do you not remember all of our years of studying together? I certainly do, though I’ve tried to block out Professor LeBeau’s class specifically…”

Evienne joined her friend in laughter before sipping her tea. “Thank you for your confidence in me. I do not know what I’d do without your friendship, truly.”

Cecelia reached over to squeeze her arm. “You will always have my friendship, Evi. I just want you to see yourself the way the people who care about you do.”

“Alright, enough about me. Tell me about your week.”

“Well,” Cecelia started with mischief lighting her eyes, “I saw Jac again.”

“The nobleman from Wellsah?” Evienne exclaimed.

Cecelia nodded, her whole face lit with a smile. “He’s so kind, Evi, and he said he’ll be back for the celebration starting next week!”

Evienne’s heart was so happy for her friend; she deserved to be courted by someone kind. Evienne had only met the Wellsah noble once, but he had struck her as genuine and his demeanor had been jovial.

“That’s wonderful! I hope you get to spend somequality timewith him,” Evienne said, winking at her friend. Cecelia swatted her arm and devolved into laughter.

After the two each finished their second cup of tea, Cecelia rose from the couch, dusting pastry crumbs from her mustard yellow jacket and skirt.

“Want to come pull a few books with me?” She asked brightly. “I have a new research project I’m starting, and I need to gather my sources.”

“Of course, I’d love to,” Evienne answered with a smile. She cherished every moment she spent doing simple things with Cece.

The women made their way around the library, Cecelia leading with confidence, pulling books as she went. She knew every inch of this place like the back of her hand.

Their last book was hidden on a shelf in the very far corner of the library. The light from the stained glass windows didn’t quite reach here, leaving the shelves in shadow. As Cecelia scanned for the book she needed, Evienne browsed the titles as well, her head tilted to the side to read the spines of the books.

The titles in this section seemed to be histories of the various lands of Domhan na Rùin, likeIllathi: People of Illusion,An Agricultural History of Wellsah, andDaosbor and theFounding of the Dead City…Evienne’s eyes scanned the titles until one jumped out at her. The words were written down the green leather spine in faded gold leaf:Beitar’s Folklore: Tales of the Tuanadair.

Evienne’s hand reached out and her fingers grazed the cool leather. She pulled the tome out, and a clicking sound, followed by a loud thud cut sharply through the silence of the shadowy corner. Cecelia gasped and turned, and the two friends stared at each other in shock.

“What was that?” Cecelia finally asked, moving toward where Evienne stood with the book in her hand.

“No idea,” Evienne said, taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart.

Cecelia took the book from Evienne and examined it, finding nothing unusual. She then turned and ducked slightly to look into the empty space the book had left on the shelf. She gasped softly and cautiously put her hand into the space. Whatever it was she had found, Evienne assumed they should probably discuss it before Cece went sticking her hand in dark corners.

Evienne tried to peer around her friend’s shoulder to get a look at the spot where the book had been, but before she could see anything, a deep rumbling groan sounded from behind the shelf.

The whole thing swung inward.

Cecelia yelped in surprise as she lurched forward with the unexpected motion, catching herself the moment before she fell down the staircase that had been revealed where the shelf had been solid a second before. “It’s a secret door!” Cecelia whisper-squealed.

“You didn’t know about this?” Evienne whispered back, unsure of why they were whispering, but too startled not to. Cecelia shook her head, eyes wide, and turned to stare down into the gloom of the passage.

Evienne could hardly believe there was a single undocumentedinch of this library. Ichorna was a scholarly nation, and this was its capital. Generations of accomplished scholars and librarians had tended this collection.

“We should probably go down there, right?” Cecelia said finally.

Evienne wasn’t one to shy away from a little adventure—she was capable of protecting herself and her friend, and she had the unfortunate compulsion to know everything all the time. They were going to have to go down there or she wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it, and she knew Cece would feel the same way. So, she pricked her palm and summoned a handful of her blood fire to light their way. They descended the stairs into a small, dusty room full of floor-to-ceiling shelves.

Cecelia was immediately at a shelf, looking over all the titles.

“Oh, Evi, can you imagine! A whole room of books we didn’t know about? I don’t understand how this isn’t documented in our records, but at least now I can catalog all of them!” Cecelia said excitedly.

Evienne hummed in agreement, taking in the thick layer of dust that covered every surface in the tiny room.

“Does it look like there’s a theme? Do the books have anything in common?” Evienne asked.

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