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“That’s what I am,” I said carefully.

She smiled, the giant amethyst hanging from her golden lamp bobbing back and forth as she turned another corner. I gripped mine tighter in my hands as we left the main floor of the library and passed through two golden doors. Beyond them we were in near total darkness aside from our amethyst lights.

“Still,” Ramia said, removing a stave from her belt and pressing the tip into a golden circle on the wall. Blue light lit up the circle and Ramia pulled her stave back with a smirk on her lips.

My stomach leapt into my chest as the floor began to move, dropping us miles below the pyramid’s main floor. Our descent paused, and Ramia urged me forward.

I stepped onto flat ground, clutching my chest. I never got used to that. And within a few short steps, the floor began to slope down beneath my feet. I held out my lamp in front of me, watching the golden brick walls lit in a lavender hue round and round as we descended beneath the pyramid.

Each circle we made took us deeper into new levels where dozens of librarians from Ka Scholar worked in silence. Some pushed carts full of scrolls, some sat at tables and carefully read newly restored scrolls, checking and editing for mistakes. We passed a few sections with nothing but scrolls made from ancient parchment that had been locked behind glass and no mages in sight.

At last, Ramia made a clicking noise with her tongue. “This level. This one we want.”

She walked off the spiraling corridor onto the floor. Dozens of amethyst lamps created an eerie glow so far below the ground. I’d noticed the levels opening at each section growing smaller and smaller. Hidden beneath each of the pyramids in the Great Library was a pyramid underground, built in reverse. Having their points at the bottom, each section we traveled past felt tighter and tighter. In previous visits, I’d descended even lower than this level, but only by one or two floors. Today was my first time being allowed to step onto the restoration level.

Two mages immediately froze upon our approach. A row of golden rods jutted out from the golden-bricked wall behind them, the wall itself on a slight angle. Hanging from each rod was a glowing amethyst.

The first mage, his white robes glowing beneath the light, narrowed his eyes, a small hiss escaping his lips. “What are you doing here?” The question was directed at Ramia.

I didn’t have time for inter-library politics or the opinions Ka Scholar had of Ramia. I stepped forward, my chin lifted to ensure the crystals shined on my diadem, and reminded them of my station. “Forgive our intrusion. I’ve asked Ramia to escort me.”

Immediately, both mages dropped to their knees, muttering, “Your grace” as they rose.

I waved them off. “No need. I’m seeking Sianna Batavia’s second scroll.The Fall of Asherah and Her Loss of Power.I need Part Two, specifically.”

The mages eyed each other warily.

“A popular title recently. We went years without it being touched or borrowed. Now….” The second mage frowned. He looked to the first one, older and perhaps more senior in his title. He gave a small nod.

The second mage grunted at this and motioned me forward, though I wasn’t sure how he was able to use his arms at all. His white robes were sleeveless, but every inch of his arms was adorned with the small leather cases that held scrolls. He had to be wearing at least two dozen scrolls on each arm. It gave him an incredibly unbalanced look; in the shadows, he seemed to be a thin man who’d made a deal with the Afeya for overly large muscled arms.

I stepped forward. “You have the scroll?”

“Part of it,” he said with a sneer.

“What do you mean? Nabula said the copies have been down here for a month, and the original was recently returned.”

An irritated grin spread across the mage’s face, but the older one coughed.

“Answer her grace’s question, Ishan.” The older mage nodded at me with respect. He was pale for a member of Ka Scholar, his skin wizened. I wondered how often he left the under-pyramid and ventured into Scholar’s Harbor, or even Bamaria proper.

“Nabula was correct,” Ishan said, sweeping his scroll-laden arms out to the side. “However, after a recent lending incident, I’m afraid we are no longer in full possession of the text, your grace.”

“Mercurial did not return it?” I asked, my eyes focusing on Ramia’s. She remained calm, peaceful, sizing up the two librarians before her. She didn’t appear surprised or upset by this news.

“The Afeya Ambassador returned the scroll. However, upon bringing it down to restoration for a routine cleaning after each borrow, especially for a text as old as this, we found…well, let me show you.” Ishan beckoned me forward. Behind their worktable, beneath the rods lighting their level, the slanted wall held several glass rectangles, each one with a scroll within it, the glass holding the parchment flat. A tiny shelf jutted out on either side of each glass where the ends of each scroll curled and rested.

“May I?” I asked, getting closer.

Ishan looked to the older librarian, who nodded again at me.

The first scroll was full of words that looked incomplete. Many of them were missing inner letters, and many sentences appeared to have blank spaces at random points within them, indicating entire words were missing. There was so much disruption to the text I could barely make out a single sentence. I turned my attention to the second displayed scroll and found the same issues.

I looked back to the first scroll. At the top of the page were the words,“Asherah’s distraught…”The remainder of the sentence was unreadable between the missing words and letters. On the second scroll, I read at the top,“a— she f-ars her p—er wil—.”I walked along the wall to the third glass display. In the top line, most of the words had been obliterated or were missing, and what remained read,“-nd…-ow— —l never…”

I read back through the first line of each scroll, piecing them together. “Asherah’s distraught, and she fears her power will never,” I said.

The older librarian smiled at me. “Very good.”