Tales of Fire and Ruin

Familiar Ties

The woman at the front desk of the library raised her hand, ordering us to stop without looking up from her leather-bound book. "Names and purpose in the library?" she drawled.

Nele cleared her throat and stepped sideways so the librarian saw me.

The elderly woman raised her eyes with a deep sigh, then dropped her quill in the ink when her gaze landed on my chest. "Storm-touched," she breathed, leaning over the wooden desk. She dipped her head in submission, her grey hair dangling dangerously close to the candle. "My apologies, I—I didn't notice. Please, head right on in, sir. Your servants as well. We're honoured to have you at our library."

"Uh, thank you," I replied with an awkward smile, not quite used to the special treatment yet. I probably wouldn't be able to get used to it even if I spent many years in Wildewall.

While I stepped past the front desk with hesitance, Nele seemed to know her way around and strode across the entrance hall. She gestured for us to follow her. Long corridors lit by candlelight stretched out in front of us. The ceiling was high, arching to what I estimated had to be at least twenty feet above us.

Nele led us to a set of wooden doors, which had stone statues in the shape of a robed man and a woman standing on each side like guardians. Endris stepped forward and opened one door for me, Oleander and Nele, and then we found ourselves in the middle of a gigantic open room.

Light poured in from windows overhead. Tall shelves filled with books were lined up as far as my eyes could see, and many scholars shuffled through the aisles. In the corners I spotted small reading desks with chairs, but on the first-floor balcony, there were more spaces which appeared to be private studying rooms. I hoped to retreat in one of those later.

"So, you people in Wildewall are just incapable of creating small, humble buildings, then?" I joked in Nele's direction.

She grinned at me. "Do it grand, or don't do it at all, lord Montbow. And if it's knowledge of the elves you seek, I would only bring you to the place with the most knowledgeable historians."

"Yes, and Ezra Dagon is most certainly the best of them all," Endris agreed, his gaze deliberately trained on me. "He knows everything there is to know of the elven war, their history... and their mannerisms."

Even after he finished speaking, Endris kept staring at me intently. He'd been making similar remarks during the ride to the library, but now that he emphasised mannerisms it suddenly hit me. What Endris had been trying to tell me all along.

Nele was bringing us straight to a historian who was the foremost authority on elves in this city. The historian would likely recognise elven characteristics in Oleander when faced with him. Shit.

The thought stopped my heart dead in my chest. I'd nearly been too late. We were already in the library. A shiver of panic and dread raced down my spine as I realised I had to come up with a reason to either dismiss Oleander without raising Nele's suspicion or to blatantly refuse seeing Ezra Dagon within the next few moments.

I chose the latter.

"I appreciate your offer, Nele," I said. "But I won't see the historian today. I want to practice for my hearing tomorrow. And Endris and Oleander will stay with me as well."

Nele's jaw went slack in surprise. Then she regained her composure and bowed curtly. "Of course, lord Montbow. I wouldn't want to impose."

I acted like the arrogant storm-touched they seemed to want me to be here and didn't react to Nele's apology. I turned away from her and looked up at the balcony. "Is there a place where I can study on my own in here, Nele?"