As I turned toward the door, I caught sight of the raven. The bird’s eyes had been riveted to the book, and as it lifted them, I held its gaze. “This is what you wanted me to find, isn’t it?”
It didn’t so much as nod, but I was sure of the answer. Quickly, I left the tower, the book clutched tight to my chest. It was small, like a diary, and I wondered if that’s what it was. There was no title on the spine that I could see. The stone seal in my pocket sat heavily against my leg, and as I crossed the courtyard, I couldn’t help but look at the pedestal upon which Rasla’s statue had once stood.
We’d broken his curse on the Shadow Guild tower and driven his ghost from Guild City, but he was still haunting us. Worse, I felt a connection to the space where the statue had been.
I shook the thought away and hurried toward the library. The morning rush had quieted now that everyone had got to work, and I made it to Seraphia’s library in record time.
The tiny Tudor building looked quiet and closed, and when I tried the door, I found it locked once more. A quick glance at the sign showed that it technically should be open.
What was the deal? This was the second time the library had been unexpectedly closed. Our friendship felt too new for me to pry, but I was worried.
I knocked on the door, tapping my foot as I waited. A few minutes passed, so I knocked harder, banging on the door like a lunatic.
“I’m coming!” Seraphia’s voice filtered through the wood, and I leaned over to look in the window.
She raced for the door, her clothes looking rumpled and worn. The skinny jeans were baggy at the knee, the way they became after wearing them too long—and her faded T-shirt hung off her shoulder, the neck stretched out. Her dark hair was a mess around her head, and shadows sat below her eyes.
I frowned. Seraphia had never looked this rough before.
She pulled open the door, her complexion paler than normal. “Hey. Sorry. I must have overslept.”
“In the library?”
“I live upstairs. Kind of.”
I frowned, waiting for an explanation.
None came.
She stepped back and gestured for me to enter. “Come in.”
I stepped into the enormous, cathedral-like spa
ce. Though the outside of the library was tiny, it was an illusion. The interior was a palace of books, so many that my mind started to fog if I tried to conceive of a total. The enormous, domed ceiling rose high overhead, reminding me more of St. Paul’s than a library.
“What brings you here so early?” Seraphia asked.
“It’s almost lunch.”
She grimaced. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
She rubbed a hand over her face, the gesture weary. “Oh, boy.”
“You can tell me about it, you know.”
Her green eyes flashed to mine, indecision flickering within. “Thanks. But I’m fine.”
I nodded. Sure.
But I didn’t say it. Pressing was a bad idea. Seraphia started to close the door and hesitated. “Eve’s raven is outside.”
“Really?” I turned back, spotting the glossy black feathers in the tree across the street. I shouted, “You can come in if you want!”
The bird just stared at me, and I shrugged. “That’s a no.”
Seraphia shut the door and turned to me. “Come on. I need tea before I can do anything.”