The books lay scattered across the marble floor like fallen birds, pages splayed, bindings scuffed. I reached for one instinctively, sliding it back toward Liora, when a sound cut through the quiet hall.
Footsteps.
Heavy. Unhurried.
Then voices.
"There you are."
My head snapped up.
Two men stood at the far end of the corridor, robes dark and unadorned, their expressions sharp with recognition. They were older than the students passing through the tower—assistants, perhaps, or minor scholars who liked to pretend authority suited them.
Recognition passed through me.
They were the same men who harassed her when I first came to the tower, whom I warned to stop but alas stupidity was a trouble and permanent sickness.
Liora stiffened beside me.
Her entire body locked as if a spell had been cast on her. Her shoulders drew inward, arms curling protectively around herself, fingers digging into the edges of her books.
Fear rolled off her in waves.
