I shudder. The urge to run tugs at my legs. Sebastian’s eyes are wide and panicked.
“Let them eat their meal in peace, Devynne,” says a man’s voice. A stern-looking fellow in dull-gray robes stands behind us. “Some of us have serious research to do and don’t need to have you prattling about talents and comets all the time.”
Devynne laughs. “This is Connor. He thinks anyone who takes joy in their work is a fraud.” She leans forward. “I wouldn’t be as staid as him for the world. But, I will leave you to your breakfast. And hope to run into you in the stacks.” She whisks away, giving Connor a dirty look as she passes. I can’t help but take a quick, little peek…
Pompous idiot, Devynne thinks.
Charlatan, Connor thinks.
I laugh, then clap my hands over my mouth. Connor frowns, his bushy eyebrows making a deep V on his forehead.
“What is so funny?” he says.
“N-nothing,” I squeak out.
He grunts.
“And what is it you’re researching?” Maeve asks, no doubt trying to lighten the mood.
Connor straightens up and clasps his hands in front of him. “I’m from Zinnia, and I’m researching the lost city that once thrived in a valley near the current capital. I’ve examined the ruins extensively, and now I’m hunting through the archives for any references others may have missed. I am quite thorough.”
“I see,” Maeve says. “Good luck to you.”
He nods curtly and leaves the dining hall in a hurry.
Children in the library? It shall not be borne.
The angry force of his thoughts nearly shoves me off my chair. I shakily put down my fork, all hunger vanished.
“Well, he didn’t like us much,” I murmur. Maeve puts her hand over mine.
“No matter. We have permission to be here, and we will do what we came here to do. I can promise you that.”
Chapter Eleven
By the time we finish our breakfast, Rachel returns and leads us down another corridor to the living quarters. She shows each of us to our own small room containing a bed, a chair, and a little table with a candle and washbowl. Each one has a window that looks out onto the mountain below.
“I had your bags brought here for you. Here are your keys. Now, would you like to see the archives?” Rachel grins. She must really love it here. Everything about the way she moves, speaks, even thinks, proves it.
“Yes, thank you,” Maeve says.
A spring is in Rachel’s step as she leads us deeper into the fortress and up to the second level. She tells us about the paintings on the walls—who made them, and when. All the names and dates jumble in my head until I worry they might fall out my ears. I don’t know how she manages to keep all that straight. But I’m rather impressed that she can. When we reach the landing on the second level, she takes us directly to a set of large double doors and opens them wide.
Sebastian gasps, while I’m stunned into silence. Maeve seems unfazed, as though this is exactly what she expected. The room is a gigantic circle, lined with tall shelves and row after row after row of books and scrolls. The room encompasses the entire level of the building, vast enough that I can’t even see all the shelves from where I stand. The shelves are all made from the same dark-brown wood, but the books themselves vary in color and size, more so than I’d imagined. Here and there, glass cases dot the space, along with paintings and tapestries hung on the walls. Many librarians are on this level, sitting like statues at the workstations that line the windows, or darting about the stacks on the hunt for just the right book. Despite the silence, the electric hum of activity is in the air.
“I had no idea this many books even existed!” I say.
Rachel laughs. “And there are five more levels just like it.”
How will we ever find what we need? Sebastian thinks at me.
Maybe Rachel or Maeve will have some ideas to narrow the search.
I sure hope so…
“The oldest books on this level are in the northwest section over there,” Rachel continues, pointing to shelves. “There are reading tables scattered throughout. If you need help, let me know.” She leans forward conspiratorially. “I’m only an assistant for now, which means that unlike the other librarians, I have a little more free time.”
And I disagree with the mandate that we only work on paying projects, Rachel thinks. I do my best to hide my smile.
“That’s kind of you, Rachel,” Maeve says. We head toward the section of the library that she indicated and begin to scan the bindings of books for ones that might include old villages of Parilla. Maeve pulls down a few and sets them on a table, pushing one toward me and another toward Sebastian.
“This is as good a place to start as any,” she says. Together we begin to peruse the books, searching for the keyword that could alter my life if we find it.
Wren.
We spend what feels like hours poring over books and scrolls, but to no avail. It doesn’t help that I keep getting distracted and wandering to see what interesting treasures are elsewhere in the stacks. Sebastian does his best to be studious, but he can’t help worrying about Jemma, so his progress is slow. Maeve helps us hunt for Wren for a time, then heads to the section containing more recent town records, hoping to find any hint of newcomers matching the description of her three stolen children. Every city, town, and village in the three territories sends their records here for storage. I can tell from brushing over Maeve’s thoughts that she doesn’t really expect to find them, but hope is a strange thing.
Several times during our search, I can’t help feeling as though someone is watching me, but when I glance over my shoulder, no one is there. I’m doing my best to be good and not eavesdrop on anyone accidentally, but after the third time it happens, there’s no help for it. I reach out with my magic and land on thoughts that give me chills.
Intriguing children. I don’t know how they tricked Euna into letting them research here, but they might prove most useful after all…
I startle, recognizing that mind. Ida, the librarian who visited us with Rachel in Sebastian’s village. Curious, I get up from my seat until I can actually see her, just around the corner from us. She’s moving around the library reshelving books. When she notices me staring at her, her expressions turns to a frown.
“If you’re not going to work, you may as well go home,” she snaps, then returns to her task with her back to me.
Her sharp retort is cutting, and I share it with Sebastian when I return to our desk.
Well, that’s just unkind, he thinks. I didn’t like her before, and I still don’t.
Me neither.
By the time we decide to stop for the day, we’re exhausted and my nose itches with dust from the books. As we head out the library doors, we walk right into Euna and Connor—and they aren’t happy.
“You can’t be serious!” Connor says.
“What’s going on?” asks Maeve.
“Everything is fine. Don’t worry yourselves,” Euna says. Connor huffs and straightens his jacket.
“Everything is not fine. These children are underfoot in the library. This one”—he points at me, causing my face to turn beet red—“isn’t even studious. She spends more time humming and driving me up a wall than researching whatever she’s here for!”
I hadn’t even realized Connor was on the same level of the Archives as us. Sometimes I don’t notice all the things I ought to when I wander. I stare at my feet, but Maeve puts a comforting hand on my shoulder.
“She’s a girl searching for her lost family, not a researcher like you. She certainly didn’t intend to bother you. If it happens again, let us know, and we’ll move to a different level of the library.”
“See? There’s plenty of room for you both here,” Euna says.
Connor grunts. “We’re not finished,” he says to Euna as he s
tomps off down the corridor. I let my talent skim across his mind.
Unreasonable, foolish woman. If she won’t do something about them, I will…
His words make me shiver, but I keep it to myself.
Euna sighs and smooths her skirts. “My apologies, Connor is passionate about his work and sometimes gets rather frustrated when things don’t go as he’d like. Are you headed to dinner now?”
“Oh yes,” Sebastian says, his stomach growling. “I never knew how hungry reading could make you.”
Maeve and Euna laugh.
“Well, enjoy it. Good night.” Then Euna enters the library herself, letting the double doors close behind her.
“Between him and Ida, it doesn’t seem anyone likes having us here.” Sebastian says. We head for the dining hall, even though my feet grow heavier with every step.
But once we sit down to eat, I begin to perk up. There are more people here for dinner than there were earlier in the day, and the clamor of thoughts is almost deafening. I have to struggle to hold back my magic, but lately I’ve been finding it a little easier. Perhaps all the practice is finally beginning to help.
As I take my last bite of potpie, the violent heat of angry thoughts sends me spinning in my seat so fast I nearly choke.
“Simone, what is it?” Maeve says.
Connor stands in the doorway of the dining hall, scowling at our little group. He growls and walks out without bothering to eat. I shiver and turn back around.
“He won’t bother us,” Maeve says. “I’ll make sure of it.”
I smile weakly at her, but that can’t hide how uneasy Connor makes me feel. Something about him strikes me as vicious. And we’re already on his bad side.
Chapter Twelve
We’ve been at the Archives for a whole week. Now, instead of wandering through a garden or stream-lined woods, I wind my way through a forest of books. Some ancient and crumbling, others crisp and new, there are plenty of places for me to explore, and not as many anxious minds as there were in Sebastian’s village. In fact, I’m usually the noisiest thing here. Sometimes I laugh without thinking, disrupting the silence, and find myself shushed by the nearest librarian.
The library is set up in the round. The center of the building is a vast staircase that seems to curl up to the sky. The main floor houses living quarters for the librarians and guest rooms for people like us, as well as the kitchen and dining areas. I don’t even know how many floors there are, but all of them are filled with books and trinkets. The whole place aches with the weight of history. On each level, the shelves are tall and towering, made from a dark wood grain that is smooth under my palms in the newer areas and rough and worn in the oldest parts.
We’ve examined what Rachel suggested might be useful in the first two tiers of the library, and now we’re just waiting for access to some of the oldest manuscripts that are housed in a separate section on another floor. I imagine it will be dark and quiet as a tomb there, with only thin candles for light. And the ink on the scrolls has faded to a nearly unreadable weight.
But really, I don’t know. Not yet. Maeve is working on getting us access. She has been a great help and seems almost as eager to find my family as I am.
Today, Sebastian and I wait at our usual reading table on the second floor, while Maeve is at her own table on the other side of this floor. She keeps a log of notes and a stack of books and papers she’s using to try to piece together what happened to her missing family. Every second she isn’t helping us, she spends there.
“Are you ready?” Rachel’s voice startles me out of my thoughts.
“Oh yes,” I say, hopping off my chair. “I’ll go fetch Maeve.”
Before Sebastian or Rachel can say a word, I’m off, skipping through the long rows of shelves toward where Maeve sits. I slow as I approach her desk. It isn’t nice to startle people, and I’m trying to be more mindful of bursting headlong from the stacks.
Maeve has her back to me as I approach, but she glances behind and smiles. She tucks the thin, little book she was examining back into the stack on her table.
“Simone! Is Rachel already back?”
“She is. I’ve come to fetch you.”
“Then we should hurry.” Maeve holds out her hand. I gladly take it and return the grin. When we regroup, Rachel leads us up to the room housing the old scrolls and maps, and whistles as she thumbs through the keys on the key ring at her waist. “I’ve only been in here once before. We don’t usually grant new visitors access. The head librarian has clearly taken a shine to you.” She finds the key she needs—an old iron one, the handle twisted into intricate knotwork—and unlocks the heavy wooden door. She holds it open, and Maeve leads us inside.
In the center of the room is a heavy oak table that looks as though it was hewn from the cross section of an ancient, enormous tree. Maeve told us about trees like that in Abbacho, but I don’t recall if I’ve ever seen them. If I did, Sebastian must have taken the memory away from me. I run my hands over the table and shiver.
The rest of the circular room is shelf after shelf packed with scrolls of all shapes and sizes, with pockets of manuscripts stacked flat and a few bound books here and there with crackling leather covers. Something scents the air—a smell particular to books, as I’ve discovered over the past few days—and makes my nose itch pleasantly. My mouth hangs open as I take it all in, while Sebastian sputters beside me.
“How will we ever find what we need in here without it all crumbling to dust?” he says, turning in a circle.
Rachel laughs. “That’s what you have me for.” She puts a finger to her chin and twirls. Impulsively I mirror her, my skirts and hair spinning wildly for a brief moment. Rachel runs a hand over the faded alphanumeric system imprinted on each shelf until she finds what she wants.
“Aha!” She pulls down a sheaf of papers that look like maps, along with a few old scrolls, and sets them down on the huge oak table. “Here we are. These are our oldest maps and show the very beginnings of town records in the three territories. The rest of the records are on those shelves to your right.”
I take in all the piles and piles of records, momentarily succumbing to hopelessness. “But where do we start?”
Rachel pats me on the shoulder, brushing back my frizzy white hair. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay and help. Your little group is by far the most interesting search I’ve been given since I got here.”
They think they’re tasking me with something tedious, but how wrong they are! she thinks, and I laugh.
Rachel’s eyes widen, and then she laughs too. “Sorry, I forgot for a moment there that you can read minds.”
I shake my head sheepishly. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to let my talent roam freely.” I scratch my head. “It’s been hard to keep it under control since Lady Aisling lost her powers. I’m not certain, but I believe I had better control once. But only vague memories to prove it.”
Sebastian frowns and looks away.
Sorry, I think at him. It isn’t your fault. It’s hers. Only hers.
He gives me a small smile, but it’s half-hearted at best.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” Rachel says. She begins assigning each of us a stack of records and maps to sort through.
Sebastian’s eyes widen, but he says nothing. His mind, though, is daunted. This is going to take forever, he thinks.
I shrug. All I have is time.
His mind strays to thoughts of his sister as he pores over the stack set before him, and I immediately regret my words.
I wish Jemma was here. I really thought she’d be here by now, Sebastian thinks. What could have happened to her? We shouldn’t have left her.
I’m sure she’ll be here soon. And there wasn’t anything we could have done for her. The body walker would’ve just gotten us, too, if we’d stayed.
We both shudder, knowing all too well
what that would mean.
I begin with the maps Rachel set beside me. They’re old and crinkle around the edges, little bits crumbling in my hands as I unroll them. One of the few things I recall from my time with Lady Aisling is how to read a map. Lord Tate showed me, though he despaired at getting me to remember. But some of it remained in my mind. I was just too distracted, too filled with spells at the time for much else other than commands.
But I know how to read the compass on the map and which markings are for streams and rivers, trees, and villages. The first is of Parilla, detailing an area I’ve passed through before. I believe it was while the Lady’s lieutenants had us chasing Emmeline, the shadow weaver, as she fled her home. The village of Wren is not noted on it, even though the map is quite old.
I pull another map closer and try to focus, but my mind begins to wander, and soon my feet follow. I circle the room, fingers trailing over the worn spines. There is so much information in this one room, let alone the entire building, that I can’t help feeling like a mind could burst before taking it all in.
Something stops me, and I realize Maeve’s hands are on my shoulders.
“Little one, I know it is hard, but we need to focus on the task at hand. Do you think you can try for a little while longer?” Her face is kind and her mind clear of anger, but my cheeks redden anyway.
“Sorry,” I say, staring at my feet. My shoes are still dirty from the hike up the mountains last week. It’s the only pair I brought with me. “I’ll try harder.”
Maeve squeezes my shoulder. “That’s all. I know it’s difficult for you after what the Lady did. But I have faith you can do it with a bit more practice.”
Hope rises within me. Wouldn’t it be lovely if I find my family, she finds hers, and Jemma arrives soon too? That’s all I want. All of our families to be reunited. Everyone back where they belong.
Hollow Dolls Page 7
