Page 10 of The Seeker
If only you knew…“I’m currently focused on Irina magic in North America. Like many of the indigenous human languages in the western hemisphere, local Irina traditions are in danger of being lost. As an archivist, it is my job to study these traditions and preserve them.”
“So youarea librarian.”
She replied cautiously. “Of a specialized sort. I was told you were also an archivist, so I assume you understand.”
“I think I’m starting to.” He sat back and watched her.
Again, Meera had the distinct feeling of being stalked by a great cat. “As I’m sure you know, there are many singers like me around the world. What I do isn’t unique.” Best not to sound too humble. She didn’t pull off humble well. “Though unlike some of my more traditional peers, I also utilize a limited amount of technology in my study and preservation.”
“Technology?”
“Recording technology. Digital.” She turned to look around the restaurant. “Where is our server? My tea is going cold.”
Rhys blinked. “Are you saying you record Irina songs?”
“Only with permission.” Meera was pleased by his surprise; she did hate being predictable. “Do you see our server?”
“Singers allow this?”
“When they trust me, theysometimesallow it.” Her recordings numbered in the hundreds of hours at this point, but there was no reason for the scribe to know that. The files were safe, and the backup drive was impossible to hack. “I really would like to drink my tea.”
“Have some sugar?” He passed her the caddy with tiny paper packets.
Meera made a face. “No, thank you.”
“You’re quite particular yourself. Do you have a geographic emphasis?”
“For honey?”
He frowned. “For your research.”
“I’ve focused on the closest Irina communities, most of which are remnants. Communities along the Gulf of Mexico whose human blood came from Mississippian peoples.”
“I don’t know much about North American linguistic groups,” Rhys said. “My training was in manuscripts from the British Isles, though I’ve been more focused on Western and Central Asian manuscripts since I’ve been in Istanbul.”
“My training didn’t match my current emphasis either.” She smiled. “But I found the challenge refreshing. It’s been too long that the Irina have neglected preservation in North America, though we excel in it other places.”
“What is the scribe tradition like here?”
“You’d have to ask your brothers here, though there are no major libraries in this area that I know of. I believe the emphasis has traditionally been ontalesmas a means of magical preservation rather than manuscripts.” She’d been aching for months to talk with someone who would understand how interesting her findings were, but she still didn’t trust him. Couldn’t trust him. “But the Irina here were incredibly influential. Oral tradition surpassed written by far.”
“It sounds fascinating. And very promising considering the current political environment.”
“Yes.” Meera forced herself to be pragmatic. “I don’t want to understate the challenge. My work is often frustrating. Many rumors. Few certainties.”
“And those rumors are where you heard about the Wolf?”
And the hunting leopard pounced.
Meera controlled her reaction. The scribe didn’t need to know about the Wolf. Her work was knowledge that belonged only to the Irina. What would scribes do with singers’ history? Write it in some dry scroll, convinced that the recording of a thing equaled its understanding?
No. Not with her research.
She set her cold tea to the side and leaned forward. “I love following stories like those of the Serpent and the Wolf. So fascinating, don’t you think? They provide good context for academic exploration.”
“Stories?” Rhys frowned. “I don’t understand. You think the Serpent and the Wolf arestories?”
“Of course.” She had to change the subject. “Like the wonderful legends surrounding Glast. I’m sure you know of them. How Gabriel planted the hawthorn tree and the great library grew from the roots—”
