And that told me everything.
This wasn’t random.
This wasn’t a joke.
And this book obviously mattered a lot more than I’d thought.
6
ARTHUR
I arrived at the library sooner than expected.
The rain-darkened stone building rose cleanly against the storm. Warm light glowed behind the tall windows. It exuded order and structure. It was the sort of place humans trusted. I had decided, after my last time here, that I trusted it too. Or at least the woman inside it.
I stepped through the front doors and glanced around, looking for her.
She was not at the desk.
The space felt the same. The scent of paper and dust and old bindings remained. It even sounded the same, with the low hum of machines and the muted shuffle of pages. But my attention locked onto her absence.
I scanned the room again. Two patrons near the windows. No Artemis.
The pressure behind my ribs tightened.
Near the desk stood a man wearing a shirt covered in small green creatures with crowns on their heads. Frogs. I didn’t care for the way the frogs smiled at me from his chest.
He looked up and took in my height. He did not adjust his stance. I filed that information away.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
I did not like his tone. It carried authority without weight. Confidence without vigilance.
“I’m here to see the head librarian, Artemis Ripley,” I said.
His mouth curved in a practiced expression. “That’s my employee. I’m the director. Whatever you need, I can help you.”
“Where is she?”
He blinked slowly. “Out back. We had a shipment come in.”
A pause settled between us, stretched.
“You sent your female subordinate outside,” I said carefully, “to unload books?”
“Yes.”
“While you remain inside,” I continued, “engaged in what appears to be a card game. On a computer device.”
He glanced at the screen behind him. “It’s called Solitaire.”
I stared at him just long enough for the silence to take on an edge. “Where’s the back door?”
“It’s staff only.”
“I am staff,” I said.
He hesitated. “Through the archives hall,” he said at last.
