“Lieutenant Cameron Mackenzie of the Red Guard,” Cameron said dryly. “The queen-to-be sent me to escort her lady-in-waiting to use the library. So how about you let us in?”
The boy’s face flushed. “Yes, sir,” he muttered. “Milady, if you could place your hand here.” He indicated a circle of silver on the inner door. Sophie glanced at Cameron, who nodded, then did as asked. The silver chimed and then flashed white. The door swung inward.
Sophie stepped through into the library. She had heard much about the Hall of Three, to give it its proper title, but nothing had prepared her for the size of the room she entered. It was three-sided, as the name suggested, floor blinding white and walls chased with gold and silver. The walls seemed to rise toward the ceiling forever, far higher than the height of the building suggested was possible.
She squinted upward, trying to see if she could spot the edges of the illusion. She thought maybe there was a faint shimmer about one-third up the expanse, but she couldn’t be certain. Something else to ask Madame de Montesse about, perhaps. She wouldn’t be taught other magics here in Anglion, but it would be a handy thing, in court, to be able to spot an illusion.
Despite Cameron’s warning, she fully intended to speak to the Illvyan woman. She could be careful about it. She would invite her to meet at her parents’ house. That would be out of sight of the court, and if anyone asked, her mother could claim to be stocking the house with suitable supplies for their stay. Madame de Montesse would know about illusions. Women weren’t limited to earth magic in Illvya. Or at least, that was what she had been told.
What she had been told was less and less satisfying with each passing hour. Which was exactly why she was standing here in the library. Best not to waste time. She could worry about Madame de Montesse later. Right now she needed to see what knowledge there was to be gained from the Illusioners.
She studied the triangular room carefully. The only thing that broke the expanse of each towering wall was a ten-foot-tall door. One brown, one red, one Illusioner white. Earth, blood, and air. The three arts.
Perhaps in Illvyan such places would be square. And there would be a blue door to step through. But she was hardly likely to ever find out if that were true, so she recalled her mind to the task at hand and walked toward the earth door. Cameron had said that he would look in the blood mage section and see if they would let him into the Illusioners’ shelves. Technically, men were allowed to know the basics of both arts. Cameron could claim he wanted to brush up on his skills of glamour and petty illusions to entertain the court, perhaps.
Whereas she, well, she was going to have to content herself with what she could find in the section she was allowed to access. The thought rankled a little. Now that she was a royal witch, the thought of being ignorant about the other arts didn’t sit any better with her than it had when she had been studying. But wishing for things beyond reach for now wasn’t going to assist her with her search, and she was going to run out of time today if she didn’t begin.
The only good thing about being restricted in access to just the earth room meant that the boy didn’t try to follow her in. Which meant he wasn’t a full-fledged archivist. Only the archivists amongst the Illusioners were allowed access to the earth-magic books. As she understood it, they swore vows to the temple in addition to their Illusioner brotherhood. Damned temple wanted a little part of everyone, it seemed.
The earth room maintained the illusion of being many stories high, but even though there were rows and rows of shelves filled with books, it wasn’t an impossible number of texts to contemplate searching.
She walked to the nearest shelf and bent to study some of the books. The first one she recognized was the fat tome that had graced Captain Turner’s desk during her lessons. Did that mean that perhaps this shelf held beginning texts? She picked up another of the books, leafed through it carefully. Its contents seemed similar enough to the book she knew that she replaced it quickly and moved a few shelves deeper into the rows.
The next shelf she tried was full of books on healing and common rituals. A glance at some of those revealed that they were full of water blessings and crop lore and the like. Not exactly what she was looking for. No, she needed something older. She moved deeper still, stopping to pull volumes out as they caught her eye. More of the same.
She had nearly reached the last set of the shelves when a slim green book caught her eye. It was thinner and less elaborately covered than the others—the binding looked to be plain green leather without the embossing or gilding that seemed to be the usual for magical texts. Perhaps the lack of ornamentation was what had caught her eye.
She stood on tiptoe to reach for the book, tugging it free of its neighbors with her fingertips. The cover was plain, no title apparent in the aged and somewhat brittle-looking leather, so she opened it gingerly, not wanting to do any damage.
The title page read simply “On Bindings,” and Sophie felt a tingle in her spine. She carried the book over to one of the desks supplied for those who wished to study the texts and started to read.