Isak drifted over to the bearded man, peering into the case he indicated. There were at least thirty different shards of metal here, of varying sizes and colours and levels of degradation.
“That looks like part of a buckle,” he mused, pointing to an arch of rusted metal.
“Close. We suspect it was the handle of coffin.”
“Could it have been the handle of a box?” Isak asked, his heart leaping. He scanned the other shards and fragments of metal, tuned into Viskae for her crow of victory.
I’m not being pulled to any of these. There’s something deeper in the crypt. That way.
Isak lifted his head and peered into the gloom, just about able to make out the giant shadows of bookcases. “It’d take years to read all those books,” he remarked.
“Lifetimes,” Tynenn agreed with sadness. “And even then, there would always be more to read. But to answer your question, no, that handle belongs to a coffin without a doubt.”
Isak shrugged. “The search continues.” He glanced at the old man, still not sure if he’d brought them down here to bump them off. “Thanks for helping.”
Tynenn smiled, a dozen more wrinkles popping to life on his face. “You have the look of someone on a quest. It’s every librarian’s dream to aid in a quest; you never know what new history might be uncovered, what lost cities or forgotten artifacts might be found. Plus, if you can keep a secret.” He leaned closer. “Working in a library gets tedious, and I’m bored. I’m enjoying the intrigue.”
Isak forced a laugh. Nice that his brother and mate’s torture was adding a bit of spice to this old man’s life.
“It’s not here,” Anzhelika said, striding over to them and giving Tynenn an assessing glance. “Tell me you know these books by heart and we don’t have to read every last one of them.” She gave Isak a look. “I do want to get home to my wife some time before dawn.”
Isak squeezed her arm, unable to express how grateful he was for her presence and humour. He selfishly wanted to go back to their home too, to sit at the table and eat a hot meal and let their bickering and teasing fill him with warmth. But Jaro and Maia needed him, so he’d stay here for five days straight if he had to. And Viskae said the thing pulling her in washere.They were close.
“Know themall?”Tynenn exclaimed with a loud laugh. “You have a much higher opinion of my memory than I do. There is, however, a catalogue.”
Isak turned, listening to Viskae, reaching out as if he could use the darkness hidden inside him to sense what she sensed.
Down the aisle,she said urgently, almost breathless with eagerness. Isak had never heard her sound like this before. It gave him hope at the same time it unsettled him.
Bookcases towered on either side of him as he followed Viskae’s urging, the only sound that of his stick hitting the stone floor.
“Hey,” Anzhelika called. “Where are you going? Honestly, he’s like a toddler,” she sighed, probably to the librarian, “always wandering off.”
Isak’s face pulled into a smile but he remained focused, scanning the rows of bookshelves. After he’d searched the dark spaces between them a few times he realised he was searching for monsters, like there’d be a secret horde of those scaled things hiding in a crypt in Saintsgarde.
The darkness hasn’t reached Saintsgarde yet,he reminded himself, no matter how far that red wave stretched across the map of the Saintlands. Sainsa was still safe. There were no monsters here.
There were, however, a shocking number of books. So many he knew they didn’t stand a chance of finding the information they needed without Tynenn’s help.
There, there, just ahead,Viskae urged, seeming to vibrate inside him. Whatever had pulled her to Sainsa, to this city, was so close he could now feel a shudder in the air—magic. He tightened his grip on his stick, ready for a fight, his heartbeat quickening.
What are we expecting?he asked Viskae.Anything the dark ones want can’t be harmless. We already know it’s powerful. Should I expect booby traps? An ancient guardian? Poison?
How the chasm should I know?Viskae huffed, sounding more like herself.
Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re a saint, and you have mystical fucking knowledge of things beyond my understanding.
My mystical fucking knowledge of things beyond your understanding says you’re going to—
Isak banged into solid wood so hard pain went up his good leg. Great, now that one was fucked, too. He rubbed his knee, teeth bared as he glared at the massive wooden desk he’d slammed into.
—walk into that desk,Viskae finished smugly.If you’d come up with a more succinct wording I might have reached the end of my warning before you injured yourself.
Every day is truly a blessing with friends like you,he growled, massaging the ache from his leg until he could stand. The walking stick took on more work than it was used to; Isak was relieved the thing didn’t snap in half.
“Hey, Tynenn, whose desk is this?”
“That’s mine,” the husky voice of the librarian answered, not too far behind Isak. Anzhelika and the others had caught up, too. The guards looked completelythrilledto be here; Isak could tell by the sheer glee on their stoic faces.