Chapter Twenty-Four #2
He grinned. “Yes, a lot of water. But so much else too. I like to think that he found a place that made him want to sing again. A place—or a person—who showed him joy.” Dipping his head down, he played with another melody on the tri-lute. Out in the waves, Perri added harmony.
“How do you do it?” she asked Dax.
He didn’t look up. “Do what?”
“Keep your heart from breaking when you care too much.”
Now he looked at her. “I don’t.”
Ree shouted, “I see it! Alyssium! Yay! Ooh, Marin, I think we need to tack. We’re not, you know, heading toward the city, and I don’t know what to do.”
She returned to the helm, and together, with Marin coaching Ree, they tacked. It required several more tacks to aim for Alyssium, and she had Ree assist her with each one.
Ahead, the city looked fine.
Better than fine. It was sparkling so enthusiastically that it had to be magically enhanced.
The spires looked as if they’d been drenched in jewels, and the north gate was gleaming like a torch, even though it was broad daylight.
Clearly, the new government wanted to send a message that all was well.
Whether it was or not … at least it was shiny.
“It’s not exactly subtle,” Dax said.
Marin agreed. “At least it’s an improvement over the flames.”
Ree said, “Maybe the Great Library will be okay, and we’ll find Rijes Velk, and we can all go back to Belde and celebrate the Winter Feast!”
That would be lovely. Unlikely, but lovely. If it did happen that way, she’d have plenty of time to deliver the ruby to her parents ahead of Iovar’s impossible deadline. The look on his face if she succeeded … That’s still a very big “if.”
She supposed the revolutionaries winning had been a very big “if” as well. She hadn’t thought it was possible, but the city was shining. She felt a flutter in her stomach that felt like hope—or like she’d swallowed a kaleidoscope of butterflies.
They sailed to the north gate. Marin lowered the sail and got out the pole as they approached. “Perri, stay below the surface,” she warned. Until they knew what to expect, she didn’t want him visible.
There were guards at the gate. “Resident or visitor?” one called down.
“Supply runner,” Marin called back. “Here for pickup.”
“Job are posted in Ceruli Square if you’ve room for more in your hold. Can’t guarantee the quality of pay, but there sure is quantity. Everyone’s rebuilding, if they can.”
“Appreciate the tip.”
They were allowed through with no further questions.
She navigated the canals, choosing the most direct route to the Great Library.
Inside the city, the sparkles weren’t visible, but it did look less under siege than prior visits.
Fewer windows were boarded up, and there was traffic in the canals and on the bridges overhead. The city felt alive again.
It still bore scars, though.
She saw the scorch marks as they drew closer to the Great Library, as well as walls that had yet to be rebuilt, bridges that were under construction, and homes that looked too damaged to be safe for people to live in.
It smelled, though, more like it used to: a mix of fresh bread and rotten seafood.
“Everything okay, Perri?” Marin asked.
He blew bubbles then ducked under.
She rounded a corner and saw the Great Library.
It still stood, mostly. One spire was dark, scorch marks on the stone, windows shrouded in black fabric, but the bulk of the building still stood.
She wondered if any of the books inside had survived or if the structure had been hollowed out. She was afraid to ask.
As they entered the tunnel, there were a few boats, the kind of scows used by librarians for transporting books, already ferrying to and from the library dock.
Ahead of them was a blue sailboat tied to the dock, and men and women in librarian tunics were unloading crates of food and jugs of olive oil.
Another good sign—there were librarians here, and they were bringing in supplies. Perhaps things were back to normal?
A man in a librarian tunic bustled over to them as Marin tied off. “Delivery or pickup?”
“We’ve a message to deliver to the head of the Great Library, Rijes Velk,” Marin said.
“It’s of a sensitive nature. Our instructions are to deliver it directly to her.
” She said it with as much authority as she could.
Until she knew the situation, she wasn’t about to reveal Terlu Perna’s name or location.
The librarian hesitated.
Marin felt her muscles tense. It was the kind of hesitation that heralded bad news. She’d gotten her hopes up when she saw the shimmer of the city and the usual, un-panicked traffic in the canals. She tried not to imagine the worst.
“Rijes Velk is no longer with the Great Library,” the librarian said.
Oh.
Oh no.
She pictured the head librarian the last time she’d seen her—on these docks, sending Terlu to safety while she stayed behind. She’d been a brave woman. It shouldn’t have come to this. Why did change have to come with so much pain? “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“You misunderstand,” the librarian said quickly. “I misspoke. She’s not dead.”
Marin felt her rib cage loosen. “Glad to hear it. You said she’s not here…?”
“She’s being held for questioning by the provisional government.”
That didn’t sound good. What did he mean by “held”?
Marin opened her mouth to ask why she was being held, where she was, and when she would be released.
The head librarian had done nothing wrong.
Or probably hadn’t. Actually, Marin had no idea what Rijes had done or hadn’t done, outside of the one slightly illegal act that she personally knew of.
Dax stepped forward. “Who, specifically, is holding her and where?”
The librarian looked at each of them. “You’re friends of the head librarian?”