Ciasa Fatima, 2017
Max stroked his fingers through Renata’s hair, glancing at the dying embers of the fire as a cold morning sun breached the windows. It had snowed during the night, and only a sliver of daylight remained visible on the first floor. He’d have to get up and stoke the fire, but not until she woke. Renata lay against him, her body a warm and welcome weight against his chest. His arm was numb and he didn’t care. She was sleeping in his arms, which meant he could stare at her. He hadn’t had the privilege in nearly three years.
Renata let out a sigh as her eyes fluttered open.
“Good morning,” he whispered.
She frowned for a second before she closed her eyes again and rolled to face the fire.
“It wasn’t a dream,” she muttered.
“Were you hoping it was?” Max asked. “I have to tell you, in my dreams, we’re usually wearing less clothes.”
“You need to leave today.”
He pulled her back to his chest. “There’s probably six feet of new snow out there. I’m not going anywhere. Neither are you. It’s a good thing you’ve stored food in the kitchen.”
She said nothing.
“Hey, Reni?” He kissed the top of her head. “How long has it been since we’ve seen each other?”
“Two years and ten months.”
He smiled. And four days. “Do you know something?”
“I know lots of things,” she said.
“It’s been two years, ten months, and four days since you left me.”
“You left me.”
“You were packing your bags when I walked out the door, and you weren’t there when I got back.” He was getting off track. “That was two years, ten months, and four days ago.”
“And?”
“I still haven’t met my reshon.”
She shoved his arm from around her waist and stood.
“What?” He watched her reach for her robe and wrap it around herself like armor. “I just thought I’d let you know.”
“Do you think you’re funny?”
“No, I don’t think I’m funny,” he said. “I think I’m pissed off.”
“Then why did you come?”
He let out a long breath. Why had he come?
“I told myself when I was walking up here—when I thought my toes might fall off from the cold—I didn’t know if I was trying to find you for wanting or sheer obstinacy.”
Renata was standing at the window, staring out into the blue wall of snow.
That’s right. You’re not getting rid of me so easily this time.
He looked around at the carved rafters and expertly stacked stone hearth. The house was plain from the outside but stunning within. “How old is this place?”
“The house?” Renata walked away from the window and sat in a wooden rocking chair by the hearth. “I don’t know. It was here when I was born, so at least three hundred years, but it’s been rebuilt over the years. Things were added on here and there. There are eight bedrooms upstairs, so you’re welcome to prepare one for yourself if you like. Mine and the living room are the warmest though, so if I were you, I’d continue sleeping down here.”
He’d be sleeping in her bedroom, but that discussion could wait. “This was your family’s home?”
She shook her head, but she still wasn’t looking at him. “It didn’t belong to us. Not exactly. I’m sure the council has forgotten about it at this point. I’ve made sure the name on the deed is mine. They can’t take it now.” She turned. “I’m sure you’re thinking they wouldn’t be interested in a house this remote, but it’s not the house they’d want. It’s the caves.”
Max sat up and leaned against the sofa. “I wondered if there were caves when I saw how the house was built.”
“The caves are the only reason this house—this whole compound—ever existed. I don’t know how old they are, but my mother told me they were created by very powerful earth singers centuries ago.”
“Why?”
“To store the scrolls.”
Understanding dawned. “This was a library.”
Renata stood and grabbed wood for the fire, placing it on the glowing embers along with some kindling. “This was a library. A unique library. Ciasa Fatima was one of the few combined libraries in the world.”
Max didn’t say anything. For the first time since he’d known her, Renata was willingly sharing her past. It was as if she’d opened a jewel box and handed him rubies. He didn’t want to say anything that might make her clam up.
“My mother came first. She apprenticed with the oldest singer in the mountains, the archivist here for hundreds of years. My father was a visiting scribe studying the history of Ariel’s children in Europe. He came here, met my mother, and never left.”
She fell silent, watching the fire light and grow.
“Did you have any siblings?” Max asked.
“No. Neither did my parents. It was just the three of us.” She looked around the living room. “But it was never just the three of us, you know?”
He didn’t know. Max hadn’t been raised in any kind of home. He’d been surrounded by warriors and hard men his entire life. The first time he’d lived in anything that resembled a home was when his brother Malachi had brought his new mate, Ava, to the scribe house in Istanbul. That was only a few years before.
“Eight bedrooms,” Max said. “There must have been many visitors.”
She nodded. “It was the way of libraries in the old days. People were always moving in and out. A scribe and his family would come to study for a few years, then move on. A singer and her mate would visit for a few months. A few families, like mine, were based here and rarely left. My father insisted there always be at least one room open to shelter someone new, which is why so many bedrooms were added over the years. There are even caves in the library that were added for Rafaene scribes who were on respite.”
The picture she painted was of a haven, a safe and peaceful place of learning and hospitality. Max could guess what had happened when the Rending reached them.
“So there were only academics here when it happened,” he said quietly. Where had her warrior reshon been?
Renata was still staring at the fire. “Do you want to see the caves?”
“Am I a scribe?”
Renata let the edge of a smile touch her lips. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with books.”
“I adore them.” His love for the written word was surpassed only by his love for those in his very small family. “I simply don’t get the opportunity to indulge very often the way I travel.”
She stood. “Wrap up. There are wool things in the closet down the hall. Most people aren’t prepared for how cold it gets at night, so I always keep extra wraps. The caves will be chilly.”
He nodded and watched her walk up the stairs to her bedroom. His eyes were caught by the sunlight glinting on the fresh snow. Unless it stormed again, he estimated three days before the trail was passable. Renata was as stubborn a woman as heaven had ever created.
Max had three days to change her mind.