He drew back a fraction, released my hands. “You’re probably right. We still have a lot to do today.”
I exhaled relief. “Okay, so this music. First tell me all the things you like to help my ego recover. Then you can tear it down again.”
We didn’t make it to the library until after dinner, and it was mostly my fault. I kept asking questions, trying to understand the things I’d done right without knowing, and the things that didn’t work. My harmonies, he said, didn’t coordinate properly with the melody, and we discussed ways to fix that without changing the heart of the piece.
He swore it took practice to find the right balance, but I was determined to write a masterpiece next.
At the end of the day, we were both exhausted, but I was happier. We took care of chores and ate a small dinner before heading to the library; I pestered him with more questions the whole way, clutching my flashlight in mittened hands.
Though the snow hadn’t lasted, the cold had. With any luck, the weather would warm in the next couple of days; the masquerade was coming up, and I hadn’t been smart enough to plan for freezing temperatures.
Sam hauled open the library door, letting me duck inside first. Heat made my cold skin prickle as I escaped the temple’s glow.
“There you are!” Whit pushed up from the desk he’d been hunched over. “We thought you two had given up on us.”
“Unlike some people I know,” I said, removing my mittens and scarf, “we don’t live here.”
“She says that now.” Sam followed me toward Whit’s and Orrin’s desks, where they worked over flat electronic screens. “But the first thing she said when I showed her the library was that we should move in.”
Orrin lifted an eyebrow, oddly delicate for someone so large. “The acoustics would be terrible.”
“Exactly what I said.” Sam laughed—it was really nice to hear him laugh again—and took my coat and cold-weather accessories to stash away, like he usually did. Well, like he did until the market attack. This cheered me, too; he hadn’t run straight to his mysterious research, and he remembered my existence for more than two minutes.
“We could still rearrange things.” I sniffed, feigning offense. When I caught his eye, his grin stretched wide, and there was something about it that made me blush, something I didn’t have a word for but would have liked—in private. Face still hot, I peered over Whit’s shoulder. “What are you two doing anyway?”
“Well,” he said, shifting to give me a better look, “we had a thrilling morning scanning genealogies into the digital archives. Now we’re reviewing logs to see where books have been going. A large number of diaries have—” He shifted and covered the screen. “Huh.”
Ominous. “I was actually looking for some diaries last night. Sine was with me. She thought I might have better luck if I researched Menehem and Li, but the diaries weren’t here. Still in the digital archives, though.”
“There are no rules about taking books from the library, as long as they’re returned.” Orrin smiled from behind his desk. “Did the console give you any trouble?”
“No, it was fine.” I glanced at Sam, who was no longer smiling. Last night, there’d been a death trap of books on his floor. More worried for Sam’s health, I’d barely noticed they were gone this morning. “So did you find out who took them?”
“Sorry,” said Whit. “Who takes what is privileged information for archivists and Councilors. But you’re welcome to continue using the consoles.”
“Oh, all right.” Torn between annoyance and suspicion, I headed upstairs. Surely if Sam had been the one to take the diaries, he’d have told me. He didn’t need to research my parents, and the books on his floor might have been music books.
“The reason we were late,” Sam said, “is because Ana started composing a minuet.”
“And you made her work on it until her hands were blue?” Orrin chuckled.
“You should both ask her to play it for you next time you’re over. It’s very nice.”
Beaming at his praise, I found the console I wanted and called up Menehem’s diaries. Reading like this hurt my eyes, but I made it through every page, searching for a hint of Menehem’s research goals and where he might have gone after abandoning Li and me.
He seemed like the curious type, which fit with his being a scientist. There were entire diaries dedicated to the geothermal features around the caldera, especially the gases a few gave off. He questioned the Council’s decisions, Heart and its glowing temple, even the reasons for everyone’s existence when there were a dozen other dominant species in the world: dragons, centaurs, phoenixes, unicorns, and giants. Not to mention everyone’s nemesis, the sylph. He hated Meuric’s insistence that Janan was responsible for humanity’s existence even more than Deborl’s idea that we were here because we were superior to other creatures, and eventually we’d claim the rest of the world.
Both thoughts seemed foolish to me. I hadn’t settled on an opinion about Janan yet—he might be real, though I doubted he was benevolent—but I definitely didn’t agree with Deborl’s idea. As far as I knew, no one had ever tried claiming the rest of the world, and if that was his goal, he should have started before “eventually.” Besides, you couldn’t kill sylph.
By the time I finished reading Menehem’s latest diary, I got the feeling he wasn’t well liked in Heart. He was defensive and cynical, and often accused society of having become stagnant, complacent with the world as it was. I didn’t agree about the stagnant state—people were still coming up with lots of interesting things—but I appreciated that he didn’t accept simple answers to hard questions, and thought people should challenge themselves.
I’d always hated him because he’d abandoned me to Li, but getting to know him through his journals, there were some things to admire.
Before I ran out of time, I peeked at his professional journals. He’d been studying sylph before he disappeared, trying to use chemicals to influence or incapacitate them. There was no indication whether he’d succeeded, though.
If someone could control sylph . . .
I was staring at my hands, remembering Li’s sarcastic, “Safe journey,” before I’d left Purple Rose Cottage, when Sam appeared on the stairwell. “Time to go home.”
After switching off the console, I followed him down and tapped lamps dark. Whit and Orrin had already gone.
“Is everything okay?” Sam offered my coat.
I glanced at the desks where the archivists had been working, knowing who had those diaries and not telling me. Maybe Sam had the books. Maybe he didn’t. Regardless, I didn’t think he would do anything to hurt me.
“Last night, there were books all over your floor. What were they?”
Shadows darkened his expression. “I’m not sure this is a good time for this conversation.”
I snatched my coat, shoved my arms through the sleeves, and pulled up my hood. “Fine.” Wrapped up in my scarf, I heaved open the door and strode outside.
“Ana.” Sam stood near me, but not touching. Only templelight lit his face; I was still fumbling with my flashlight. “I was doing research on dragons.”
I spun, my light finally working, and almost blinded him with the white beam.
He blinked out of the way. “I wanted to see if I could learn anything.” His face shone pale in the glare of my flashlight. “It’s happened so many times, I keep thinking they’re coming after me, and it’s not just horrible luck. So yes, I had those books in my room. I also had books about sylph, because I was equally concerned about you. Two attacks in two days.”
My throat closed up, and I hugged him tight. “Oh, Sam.” I pressed my face into the soft wool of his coat, inhaling his warm scent. “I’m sorry. Don’t worry about me. If you want to research dragons, let me help.”
“I don’t want to burden you. Everyone has their own worries and fears they’re reborn with. Eventually— Eventually it sorts itself out, and we’re all right again.”
That sounded like what Sine had said. Maybe she hadn’t been so insensitive on purpose. It was just all she knew.
I reached up, touched Sam’s face. Stubble caught in the wool of my mittens. “Burden me.”
“You have more important things to worry about. The first progress report—”
“Next week. I know.” With a sigh, I peeled away from him and gave my flashlight a few more twists. Nice everyone was so eager for me to do well, but my biggest incentive was not being exiled from Range or, worse, dumped with Li. “It’s difficult to focus on my studies when my best friend is struggling just to get through the hour.”
He hesitated. “So I’m your best friend now?”
My cheeks heated, and I shrugged. “It was between you and Sarit, and you have the piano. She just has honey.”
Sam laughed, and his knuckles brushed the back of my mitten, as if he’d been about to take my hand, but changed his mind. “Even though I’m pretty sure you chose the piano, not me—”
I bumped my shoulder to his arm, making him laugh again. Now that I was getting used to the idea that he wasn’t laughing at me, I enjoyed the sound more and more.
We continued down South Avenue, but our easy silence thickened as I remembered the previous night’s events. The footsteps.
Cold air stirred around my hood, rustling my hair. I shivered with the temperature and memory, vainly peering at the houses we passed. How could I figure out who had followed me? My thoughts kept turning back to Li, her threats from the market day, and whether she might have learned how to control sylph.
Sam touched my arm.
I startled, almost dropping my flashlight. Wool slipped on metal, but I scooped the tube against my chest and pinned it there.
“You seem uncomfortable.” His expression was impossible to read in the dark. Only starlight and the eerie temple glow brightened the city. The moon hadn’t risen yet; some nights its light reflected off the walls, giving Heart numinous radiance. But not tonight. It was just dark. “Ana?”
I shifted toward him and started walking again, quickening my pace. “I’m fine.” Really, I just wanted to get inside.
He kept up easily. “I hesitate to call you a liar, but I can tell when you’re not being honest. Did something happen?”
“Last night.” I kept my voice low, smothered it with my scarf. “When I was coming back to your house, I heard someone following me. There were footsteps. They vanished when I turned around.”
He didn’t ask me if I was sure like I thought he would, just put his arm around my shoulders and gave me a gentle squeeze. “I have something for you at home.”
Inside the dim parlor, Sam motioned for me to sit, and headed to one of the bookcases. Old hinges squeaked as he opened a box.
He crouched in front of me and laid a small, sheathed blade on my knees.
I tried to draw away, but it was already touching me. “What is this?” Carefully, I nudged it toward him, off my knees, and into his waiting hands.
“A knife.” He slipped off the leather covering to reveal a tiny blade, as thin and long as my index finger. “You need to promise me something.”
I didn’t take my eyes off the steel. “I don’t want that.”
“Please, Ana. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was necessary. I believe someone followed you last night. If their motives were benign, why didn’t they announce themselves?”
“You think someone might try to hurt me.”
Something flashed in his eyes, but I was too slow to fully see it. I had a hard time looking away from the knife. It was such a little thing, much too tiny for his grip. Perhaps if I thought of it as an oversize needle, it wouldn’t seem so terrible.