Page 46 of Esperance

It was unsigned, as if she should know exactly who had sent it—as if they’d been engaged in a conversation about an obscure book she’d never heard of.

This was from the Rising.

A thrill went through her, followed quickly by a spill of nerves. She folded the note and shoved it into her pocket, cutting a glance over the room. Of course, she was still alone—there was no one to play witness. Even so, her heart beat a little too fast.

The message was clear enough: she was supposed to find that book in the library. Perhaps there, she would find her orders.

She’d been to the library only once since their initial tour, but she was able to re-trace her steps with little difficulty. A few of the guards and servants she passed asked if she was lost or needed anything, but she was able to quickly put them at ease and continue on her way.

When she reached the vast library, the comforting scents of leather, dust, and wood surrounded her. She’d always considered the library in Torin’s castle to be impressive, but the collection in Esperance was easily ten times as expansive. The entrance to the large room was an open study area, dotted with square tables and chairs—some of which were occupied by clerics—and tucked in the corners of the study area were cushioned chairs clustered together. Every bit of wall space was overtaken by towering, dark wooden bookshelves, with a balcony that ringed the entire room and gave one access to even more shelves. Beyond the study area were rows upon rows of bookshelves, filled to bursting with volumes of every size. Different collections were housed in separate sections—novels, histories, sciences, religious texts, ancient scrolls—each had their place. But despite the organization, the shelves still felt like a maze.

As Amryn walked quietly through the open study area, she felt more than one pair of eyes track her. When she reached the bookshelves, she hesitated.

She had no idea where she’d findZerrif’s Voyage. She didn’t even know what sort of book it was. Fiction, or a detailed travel log?

“Can I assist you?”

She turned and found an older male cleric standing in the aisle to her left. He had a small book cart in front of him, and he looked to be in the process of returning books to their shelves.

“I hope so.” She moved toward him. “I wanted to find a copy ofZerrif’s Voyage,if you have it.”

His brow furrowed. “Yes, I think we do. It’s not a very popular book, though. Too long. And, truth be told, Zerrif’s often seen as laughable by scholars.” He lowered his voice a bit conspiratorially. “He’s overly dramatic.”

“Oh. I was told by my uncle that it would be enjoyable.”

The old man chuckled. “Perhaps he thought to tease you.” He stepped away from the cart, gesturing forward with a slightly gnarled hand. “It will be this way.”

“I don’t want to interrupt your work.”

“You’re not, dear girl. My calling is to take care of the books in this library, and a large part of that is finding the right books for readers. Come.” He beckoned for her to follow, and she easily fell into step with him as they walked down the aisle.

“Thank you,” she said. “I truly appreciate it.”

“No trouble at all. Working among these books is my greatest joy.” He sent her a small wink. “Don’t tell my superiors I said that. I’d probably lose my clericship if they thought I enjoyed books more than praying to the Divinities.”

The corner of her mouth lifted. “Your secret is safe with me.”

His eyes twinkled. “I thought I sensed a fellow soul in you.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m Cleric Felinus.”

“Amryn Lu—I mean, Vincetti.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Vincetti.”

“Please, just call me Amryn.” Her new name was ill-fitting, and made her think too much about her husband.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“Ferradin.”

“Ahh, I’ve longed to travel there. I’m from Palar originally, and that’s where I took my oaths as a much younger man.”

“How long have you been a cleric?”

“Oh, Saints if I know. At least twenty years, now.” He guided them deeper into the library until they came to a stop at one of the shelves. Felinus had to stretch up on his toes in order to reach a thick, leather bound volume and drag it off the shelf.

She reached for the book, and he relinquished it with a grunt. “A very long-winded man, that Zerrif,” he huffed out.

Amryn had to agree; the weight was considerable.

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