Every instinct told Willow to rush in, to find Sage. Christian was being very cautious, so she knew she should be, too.
He eased around the corner, peeking into the chambers. Then he stepped into the room.
Willow entered behind him and immediately spotted Brother Nicolas seated at his desk, hunched over as if working. She scanned the room for Sage, but she wasn’t there.
Christian rushed up to Brother Nicolas, sheathing his weapon. He put a hand on the old man’s shoulder.
Brother Nicolas lifted his head. A line of blood ran from his lower lip down to his chin.
“Where’s the book?” Christian demanded.
Shocked at Christian’s lack of concern, Willow moved around the desk to Brother Nicolas’s other side and slid him back in the chair. A large stain covered his stomach. Willow’s gaze focused in horror at the blood.
Brother Nicolas shook his head. “He took it.” He looked at Willow sympathetically. “And your sister.”
A sudden coldness swallowed Willow. The room spun, and her hands trembled in fear. “Who took her?” Willow demanded.
“Brother Marcus,” Nicolas said and coughed. Red sprayed across the books and parchment laid out before him. He slumped forward.
“Where is he going?” Christian demanded.
Willow knelt beside Nicolas. “It’s well. You’ve done enough. We’ll figure it out.”
“Which way did he go?” Christian insisted.
“The deep way,” Nicolas whispered.
Christian stood and raced for the door.
“Christian!” Willow called, but he didn’t stop. He was leaving her again. But that wasn’t important. Brother Nicolas was. She looked back at Nicolas. The lines on his old face were relaxed. He seemed strangely peaceful. He gathered her hand into his frail one. His touch was cold.
“I didn’t even have time to train her to decode the book,” he whispered, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, dear. I did try to warn you.”
“Please, just rest.”
“My time has come, child. I will not be able to see this through. You must...”
Willow shook her head. If she hadn’t brought the book to him, he would not be hurt; he would not be dying. “I’m so sorry.”
“This is not my fight to continue. You must do it.” He pointed to a pile of books against the wall. “The red one. Bring it to me.”
“Red?” She stood and crossed to the books. There were many stacked against the wall. It was amazing to consider books were valued and treasured when they meant nothing to her. She pointed to one of the stacks of books.
Nicolas shook his head and signaled to her right.
She stepped to another pile.
He nodded.
Three down from the top was a small red book. She pulled it from the heap and handed it to him.
“Keep it,” he said softly. “It’s yours.”
“I have no need of a book,” Willow objected, kneeling beside him. “I can’t read.”
“It’s a book of maps. Once you...” He inhaled deeply, his face twisting in a grimace of pain. “You’ll understand.” He patted her hand resting on the book.
Willow appraised the leather-bound book. Another book? She wanted to groan. And one of maps? Why did she need maps? She lifted her eyes to him. His face was pale, and his eyes were closing. It didn’t matter. Brother Nicolas wanted her to have it, so she would treasure it. She gathered the book and held it close to her heart.
