“How are we going to find this thing in broad daylight and with people all over?” asks Lorena, her gaze darting around like she is afraid to get in trouble.
“Just keep watch for anyone who is paying us too much attention,” says William, approaching the redbrick wall.
“And what will you do?”
“Search.” He tilts his ear toward the wall and starts tapping each brick, one by one, and listening for the slightest difference.
“What exactly are you—?”
“Quiet,” he says sharply. “Someone is coming.”
The front door opens, and William ducks down, pretending he dropped something as a woman steps out of the building. Then he springs back up and resumes his march past the bricks, knocking on each one.
He peeks at Lorena and spies her pacing back and forth, eyes darting in every direction, like a soldier in a war zone where the bullets could come from anywhere. His lips twitch, but the impulse to smirk is smothered by a frown as he starts to run out of bricks.
He was so sure he had chosen a spot at around head height, but he is not hearing anything. Could he be wrong about where he hid the box?
Or is he wrong about this whole dimension—?
There.
As he knocks on one of the bricks closest to the corner, he finally hears it. A slightly hollower sound, too faint for human detection.
Lorena approaches him. “There’s a family heading straight to this building—”
She is cut off by a loud crack as William punches the brick hard enough to crush it without doing much more damage.
Or so he thought.
Fracture lines stretch across the wall, but he does not have time to assess the damage. He hurriedly brushes aside the broken pieces to reach for the box he buried.
Lorena is crouched low, hands over her head like a bomb just went off. The front door flings open, and right as people start to spill out of Massachusetts Hall to inspect the source of the noise, William pulls her around the corner and runs.
He does not stop or let her go until they are at the other end of the Yard. Lorena rakes in a deep gulp of air as she steps away from him.
He assumes she is only dizzy, until he registers how her gaze is fixed on the small wooden box in his hands.
“Isthat—?”
She sounds too terrified to finish the thought, and he does not answer her.
His knuckles hurt more than they should from breaking that brick. He has not ingested nearly enough blood to be expending this much energy. Not after a centuries-long fast.
Lorena is still staring at the box like it is an explosive, and he tucks it under his arm and starts walking.
She falls into stride with him, and they arrive at a building with a very elevated entrance. The steps leading up to it are so giant that students are seated on every level, doing things like reading a book, or scarfing down a meal, or checking their phones. Across the top of the building are the words:THE HARRY ELKINS WIDENER MEMORIAL LIBRARY AD MCMXIV.
William climbs to a step that does not have many people on it and sits down. Even though he has slowed to human speed, he still moves so quickly that Lorena has only just started climbing.
Opening the box, he sees a book, a family portrait, and a letter. He swipes the letter, stuffing it in his pocket before Lorena arrives.
“What’s that?” she asks when she joins him.
William stares down at the dusty box, its paper contents yellowing and curling with time.
“Me,” he says, picking up his copy ofHamlet. The full leather binding features a geometric pattern with gold-spun text on the cover and spine. He can still recite the full play from memory.
Lorena reaches for the portrait and brings it closer to her face. William remembers they had to sit still for hours while it was drawn. There are a dozen people featured: he and his parents, his grandparents, aunts and uncles, and cousins on his father’s side.
