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My eagerness to take the final steps towards the Great Library was greatly diminished by the thought that I, too, would be vaporized if they found out I was helping a vampire.

From the friendly face that peeked out behind the bright blue hood of the junior Librarian, despite all their knowledge, that particular secret was safe.

“Name?” she asked, with all the courtesy of a hostess at one of the tea shops.

“Samara.” I didn’t dare give a false name here.

“Samara…” She trailed off expectantly.

I swallowed, forcing my tongue to work. “Samara Koisemi.” A name I hadn’t claimed in many years .

She nodded in acknowledgment, but didn’t show any particular recognition while she canted her head as if listening for something. Though I couldn’t hear anything, she nodded once more and extended an arm in invitation.

“Right this way, Samara Koisemi.”

Entering the threshold of the Great Library was no less remarkable than entering another world.

The smell of parchment hit me, unmistakable and enticing.

Towers of bookshelves stretched higher than should’ve been possible given the height of the building.

Books floated freely between shelves up high, zipping from one spot to another without so much as a rustle of the pages. In fact, the entire space was quiet.

My guide moved ahead. I hurried my steps so as not to lose her, but I couldn’t stop my head from swiveling from side to side.

She led me around the perimeter of the room—just as the stacks stretched high, a large staircase filled the center, allowing Librarians to move to lower levels.

They wore varying shades of blue, from the same bright color of my guide to a dark navy.

“Do I ask you my question?” I whispered.

“No, Samara Koisemi.” It unnerved me to hear my name over and over. It was the name of a criminal, and just the sound of it felt like an accusation. “I am only an apprentice, still learning the language of the Library. You will meet one of our journeymen.”

She eventually led me to a table and sat me down. A male with a cloak two shades darker, with a slightly thicker chain holding the clasps together, sat across from me. The blue hood shrouded his face.

The journeyman.

He regarded me with only the mildest curiosity. Likely a baseline of interest the Librarians had for all things outside of books.

“What is your question?”

My question. I would only ever have one question, one chance to use the oracle magic stored in the Great Library, and not only was I giving it up for a vampire, but I was also giving it up for a myth.

No . I was giving it up for my freedom .

I repeated the exact words Raphael had breathed in my ear, making sure to let them out at a slow measured pace so I didn’t mess up the order.

The Library didn’t allow for corrections if a tongue twisted over the wrong word.

“In precise terms, how can one gain possession of the Black Grimoire, as soon as reasonably possible?”

The journeyman jolted back as if I’d used an electric card on him. His hood fell away, revealing an average face, lips gaping at me like a kraken out of water.

“That question,” he breathed. “How do you know about that? Why would you ask that?”

I frowned at his strong reaction. I’d expected the journeyman to laugh at me. His reaction said there was more truth to the stories than I realized.

“Just curious,” I hedged.

“Choose another question.” He ground out the demand through clenched teeth.

I frowned. “I don’t have another question. I want this one answered.”

More accurately, I really didn’t want to go back to Raphael without an answer.

“Something else,” he hissed. “Ask us how to make your fortune. Ask us where to find the one you will wed. Or how to avoid your death.”

I contemplated for a moment. If I asked him to tell me how to evade any potential threats and start a new life, the Librarians would eagerly give me an answer. Or I could ask if my mother’s soul was at peace in the blessed fields or lost to the ninth hell as I feared.

I forced myself to look the journeyman directly in the eyes. I would use my question for Raphael’s myth hunt. Though from the journeyman’s reaction, it wasn’t as much of a myth as I had been told growing up. “You agreed to my petition. I’m owed an answer to my question.”

I hoped he wouldn’t incinerate me on the spot, the way the apprentice had that unruly man at the door. But then, he’d tried to break the rules. He’d been greedy. I only wanted the answer they’d agreed to give me. “This is my only question.”

The journeyman narrowed his eyes, grinding his teeth in frustration. But the magic of the Great Library won over, and his lips were forced open. He spoke with the same overlaying voices as I’d heard before, the hive mind magic of the Librarians channeling through him.

“Go north, to the marshes, to the abandoned temple of Anagenni. The Black Grimoire was entombed there seven hundred and seventy-seven years ago. It is locked away behind a statue of the patron goddess, guarded by traps even we do not know, so only the worthy may take possession of the book.” The voice faded, and the journeyman glared at me. “You have your answer. Now begone.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I scurried from the library with a nimbleness the most wily of rats would’ve envied. Still, I couldn’t resist looking back at the library as I left. The books, the knowledge stored there, forever to be out of my reach because I’d given the vampire my question.

A question that left me with dozens of my own.

Anagenni . What was she the goddess of? Mother hadn’t been especially pious, but in the Witch Kingdom, witches and voids alike used the pantheon like spices—a pinch of luck from Lixa, a prayer for health to Askli.

Flourishes on the magic we used. It was common to see icons scattered throughout, but no one made formal temples to the gods these days.

Why bother, when even voids had magic at their fingertips? Only the Monastery was different.

I darted through the exit, around the apprentice who had escorted me inside. A line still rounded the building. There would be no shortage of people with questions this night, nor any other .

I scanned the darkness for Raphael, but neither red nor blue eyes peeked out in the dark.

That was fine. Uncertain how long the library would take, we’d arranged a meeting point for midnight.

But… I had thought perhaps he might be waiting for me.

Fool , I scolded myself.

Maybe that was why I took my time reaching the arranged spot, studying the city at night.

Witch lights lined the street, enchanted so the markets could stay open well past dark.

Of course, the types of markets available at Apante changed with the setting of the sun.

People looked to feed all manner of appetites at night, judging by the crooning calls coming from certain buildings.

I couldn’t help but look at one of the pleasure halls as I passed, wondering what it would be like to have that closeness with another.

The stolen coins were heavy in my pocket, beckoning even though I’d never let myself give in.

Not when I didn’t have a way to get more coins.

A pair of oiled figures made eyes at me as I passed, one male, one female.

Their bronzed bodies were displayed despite the slight chill of the night, golden fringed gossamer accenting their allure.

Whatever they saw in me, they knew I was a target.

It wasn’t that either of their inviting smiles interested me in particular, but part of me wanted desperately to sate the curiosity that had built over the years.

I’d gone from a girl to a woman in name only in Greymere.

I was ignorant, but I knew I was ignorant, and that was worse .

The lightness of my coin purse prevailed, and the two shifted their attention to more promising potential customers.

I pressed on. I paused only once more, to listen to a street performer singing.

She was dressed in gossamer silks, making eyes with every audience member even while her mind was clearly occupied with the music.

Her voice dipped to low tones, cutting through the other noise in the city.

When the song ended and she bowed, it was met with little applause.

I wished I could spare a coin to give her.

The old capital boasted another wonder beyond the Great Library—a beautiful garden, dedicated to an old, forgotten queen.

Enormous amounts of magic must have gone into shaping it.

The garden took up the entire eastern quarter of the Apante.

The entrance was a brilliant marble gate that could only have been made from magic.

The twin winged figures carved from the marble looked almost human, but it was the beautiful kind of human you’d die for.

I passed through the gates, following the path.

The space wasn’t entirely deserted, but it was substantially emptier.

The gentle wind rustling through the trees drowned out any quiet conversations.

I wandered farther, taking in the space.

Like the forests I’d slept in, but so much more deliberate.

No two trees were alike, different variants that must have been magically spliced by a witch gifted in plant magic. Or more accurately, a team of them.

Even at night, several trees were blooming.

The blossoms filled the air with a pleasing scent.

Despite the size of the space, branches hung low, making the garden feel private.

I was a woman alone at night in a relatively empty space, so I stayed on guard, but there was no sign of anyone else.

I found a bench braced against a decorative boulder, carved to look like the three moons atop each other.

I was really alone, at last.

And then I wasn’t.

There was no sound that gave him away, no movement in the shadows. But an awareness came into my periphery all the same.