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My jaw goes a bit slack, taking it all in. The tang of ancient ink and paper floods my lungs, almost as comforting as stable scents.
I suppress the urge to embrace one of the rows of books and gulp the smell down even more fully. “Wow. And this is what the scholar divisiondoesn’tthink is important enough to keep in the main library?”
Alek watches my reaction with an expression that might be bemused, though it’s hard to tell with so much of his face hidden behind the mask. “We’ve accumulated a lot of texts over the centuries. Some of the collection is prioritized based on our current academic focus. When it comes to historical events, the royal family prefers that students concentrate on the period starting with the overthrowing of the empire.”
I restrain a snort. “Let us not dwell on our failures, only our victories. Somehow I’m not surprised.”
I take a few steps along one of the shelves, trailing my fingers over the spines of the books. Only a light sprinkling of dust scatters their covers, suggesting that this room is accessed fairly often—or the scholarship division makes a point of regularly cleaning their archives.
Alek strides on ahead of me, scanning the books with a stricter air. “I checked every account I can find of the gifts of the current students—and staff. There are several Jurnus dedicats in the leadership division and a couple in companionship with weather-associated magic, but mostly along the lines of summoning rain or ensuring a sunny day rather than anything to do with wind.”
I frown. “I suppose we should look into their recent activities anyway.”
He nods. “I’ve already begun. So far it appears most if not all of them were on the campus at the time of Julita’s murder, but I’ll ask Benedikt and Casimir to see what they can find out about those who didn’t have classes.”
He’s certainly thorough in his work—I’ll give him that.
I glance back at the shelf, and my hand stalls on a line of familiar embossed type. I yank out the slim volume. “The first book of Gisela Luvinya’s Traveling Diaries. I’ve never been able to find it.”
Alek’s tone turns skeptical. “How do you even know about it, then?”
“Oh, I found the second buried in the stash where I ended up staying… before I became a fake noble. She’s constantly referencing previous adventures but only in the vaguest terms that just make you want the damn book more.”
Alek shrugs. “I suppose you could borrow it. I doubt it’d be missed any time soon.”
“Really?” I press the book to my chest instinctively, as if afraid he’ll change his mind and wrench it away. Which is silly, because we both have more important things to worry about than fifty-year-old travelogues.
A hint of a smile touches Alek’s stern face. “It might as well be appreciated by someone.”
He pauses. “How is it you learned to read well at all? I was under the impression letters weren’t widely taught in the outer wards, beyond the basics.”
My delight at finding the book fades. The less I talk about where I came from, the better for both of us.
“My parents were readers,” I say briskly. “They saw that we—that I could follow in their footsteps.”
Until they no longer wanted me to. But by then I had enough to continue my education on my own.
Alek’s eyes have narrowed. “And what did your parents do thattheylearned to read?”
My stomach knots. “I don’t see how their occupations are relevant to our mission.”
The scholar turns to fully face me, his jaw clenching. “You’re expecting us to trust you with—witheverything. Even with Julita’s soul. Why wouldn’t we want to know exactly who we’re dealing with?”
I refrain from saying that I’d happily hand over Julita’s soul to any of them given the choice. My voice comes out tart all the same. “I am not my parents.” As they made amply clear hundreds of times over. “And it seems to me thatI’mthe one who’s risking far more here with people I have only a ghost’s word that I can trust. You already know more about me than I do about you!”
Alek opens his mouth and closes it again. I can’t decipher what’s going on behind his penetrating gaze.
Julita gives a soft laugh.That set him straight.
Then he lifts his chin just slightly. “What do you want to know?”
I hadn’t actually expected him to offer himself up for examination. I hesitate, and one obvious question pops into my head. “What’s your gift?”
“What makes you assume I have one?”
I stare at him for a second. Asking for at least a small dedication gift is par for the course among nobles.
They can afford to lose a little of their bodies to gain power. Anything to gain a potential advantage in all their jockeying for prestige.
