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We exited the smith’s shop into the dusky light of evening, a thin, unadorned sword hanging in a sheath at my hip. It felt strange on my side, bobbing with each step I took, the weight reminding me of all I had to do and learn and conquer.

I walked wordlessly beside Miles, an ease radiating from him I hadn’t felt before. But as comfortable as it should have felt, I still had that unsettled feeling – eerily familiar, like I should feel content in this companionable silence but just…wasn’t. And there was still an undeniable awkwardness of unanswered questions that stalked us as we made our way back to the others.

“I’d like to stop here,” Miles said suddenly, pointing to a sign hanging above the street.

“Oh, Yuri’s Bookshop?” I responded, taken aback as I read the sign. I’d never been to a bookshop. There had to have been at least one in Eserene, but it sure as hell hadn’t been in Inkwell. Most Inkwellians didn’t even know how to read — my family had been outliers in that regard. “Okay.”

“I’ve always loved bookshops,” Miles murmured, his voice so low I could barely hear it. “Pick something out if you’d like. We’ll make Whit carry it on the trail.”

Amber candlelight illuminated shelves upon shelves of books, the smell of ink and parchment capturing all of my senses. “Good evening,” a middle-aged man called, almost completely hidden by the mountain of books piled on his desk. The man’s face blanched when he noted the metal mask covering Miles’ face.

The Lieutenant gave him a gruff greeting and the man relaxed slightly, though his eyes remained warily on us. Miles didn’t turn to me as he disappeared into the shelves. “I’ll be just a minute.”

Rows upon rows of books filled the small space, the stacks towering high above us. There were ladders and step stools scattered throughout, propped against shelves where hundreds of books lay out of reach. I let my eyes scan through the countless volumes, overwhelmed and at ease all at once. I didn’twantany book in particular, but I supposed this could be my chance to learn something, anything about the world I knew so little about.

“Excuse me,” I asked the man behind the counter as he looked up from the multiple books he had sprawled in front of him. “I’m looking for something about the Saints.”

“Any particular Saint?” he replied, pushing a pair of thin spectacles up his nose as he stepped away from his desk. His salt and pepper hair glowed orange in the low light.

“Oh, um…” Katia? Rhedros? Noros? “All of them, if you have something like that.”

“Tall order,” he replied. I almost backed away, embarrassment flooding through me.He thinks you’re an idiot.“Check row number four. Three quarters of the way down you’ll see a shelf labeledSaints.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly, escaping into the solace of the stacks. I ran my finger down the spines of the neatly arranged books and let myself relish the calm ambience of the shop.

There were books upon books of every Saint, Benevolent and Blood, their powers and what they ruled over. I’d hoped to find something on the Daughter of Katia, but a thick, leatherbound book caught my attention;The Complete Lore of the Saints: Legends, Myths, & Truths.It was beautiful — gold filigree on a smooth, dark leather spine.

“Find something?” Miles’ low, raspy voice broke the silence. I jumped, spinning to find his mask peeking through the shelves of the stack behind me.

“You know, the wholefriendly Milesthing is kind of weird,” I said as I pulled the book from its place, running my hand across the cover. “I think I prefer the blunt and angry Miles.”

“He’s still here, don’t worry. But it’s impossible to be angry in a bookshop,” he said almost absentmindedly as he rounded the stack. “The Complete Lore of the Saints?”

“I think I should try to learn something,” I answered. I thought about asking him what he knew about the other half of my parentage – no one had so much as mentioned Rhedros besides Castemont, but I held back.

“There’s probably some good information in there about Noros,” he murmured. “Maybe we can make a connection to Castemont.”

I nodded, swallowing hard at the prospect of what lay ahead. Alvar’s words came back to me, that he could give us answers, even an answer as to whether or not Castemont was Noros. But I knew deep down it was him. I forced air into my lungs, willing the dread out of my gut. “What’d you find?”

He held up a small novel,The Lost Son. “I used to really love to read,” he said quietly, flipping through the pages. “I’d like to start again. And considering everything I know has changed, I figured I’d try to hold on to this part of my past.”

I stared at the metal mask that was now less of a threatening presence to me. “Who are you, Miles Landgrave?”

He laughed, a sound that echoed off the stacks and through the whole shop, straight into my bones. “I’m slowly learning.” He pushed past me to the counter, handing the man a small stack of coins and bidding him farewell.

“Thanks for this,” I said quietly as we exited, the book clutched to my chest. No one had ever bought me a book before, and something about it made me feel…happy.

“Least I could do, considering.”

“You’re right. Least you could do.”

Chapter 12

“Bag of honey apples, three loaves of bread, a waterskin each, and some kind of cheese that the shopkeeper talked Whit into buying,” Nell said as she laid out their provisions at the top of the hill.

“He said it’d never spoil,” Whit offered.

“It’s at least two and a half days back to Taitha,” Miles started. “Whitley, Augen, when we near the city, you two will go ahead to assess the state of it, then report back. We’ll come up with a plan then.” The two soldiers nodded as I turned to the forest that yawned open before us. The last light of day coated Aera in a rich gold, but the forest beyond was already dim beneath its canopy. Something about the darkness tonight was especially unsettling.