Maldynado lurched to his feet. “Sicarius! I was just, uhm, how long were you…” He turned to Books and whispered, “How long was he there?”
A smirk wanted to find its way to Books’s lips, but the coldness of Sicarius’s face stole his mirth. Best not to get involved. Or show interest.
Maldynado wilted under Sicarius’s stare. He stepped back to put space between himself and Sicarius, but landed on a walnut. His heel flew out from under him, and he almost ended up on the floor again. He caught the edge of a bookcase and recovered.
“Hard to believe you’re our second best swordsman,” Books said.
Maldynado cleared his throat, picked up the walnut, and offered it to Sicarius. “Hungry?”
Sicarius’s expression did not change. If he blinked, Books did not notice it.
“Er.” Maldynado pocketed the nut. “I’ll just keep it.”
“Akstyr and Amaranthe have gone ahead to the gambling house,” Sicarius told him. “Basilard is on his way to replace you as Books’s guard dog.”
Books might have protested that he did not need a “guard dog,” but he was relieved to have Maldynado replaced. He wondered if Amaranthe had known he would need a break from him by now. He also wondered if she knew he had gone shopping in the middle of his shift.
“Where am I going?” Maldynado asked.
“Amaranthe wants you to acquire a disguise for her, then meet us at the gambling house. She trusts you can get a good price.”
“Does she trust it’ll be in good taste?” Books asked.
Though Sicarius never emoted, he could ooze disapproval with the force of a cannon. Books cleared his throat and fiddled with his pencil.
“She wants me to buy clothes?” Maldynado beamed. “I do believe I know a couple merchants who’d be willing to stay open late for me.”
He grabbed the grocery bag and trotted down the aisle, no doubt eager to leave Sicarius’s presence. Unfortunately, that left Books alone with the man. He waited for Sicarius to ask a question or demand an update. Long moments ticked past, and Books felt like he was being judged for being a part of Maldynado’s dating conversation. He was tempted to defend himself-after all, he hadn’t said anything derogatory-but feared it would make him sound guilty.
“What have you discovered?” Sicarius asked.
It took Books a moment to realize Sicarius meant the real estate research. He wrenched his mind back to the work on the table. “A mess.”
Sicarius folded his arms across his chest.
“I believe I’m in the right area.” Books waved at the scattered texts and papers. “But I’m still looking for a match. It’s definitely a rural property, probably in the mountains, I can tell you that.”
Nearby, boots clacked on the tile floor. A few visitors had come into the vast real estate library that day, but none had made their way back to his remote corner. The clacking boots drew closer, however, and he turned his head toward the noise.
A woman stepped out of the aisle and started at seeing him. She recovered quickly and smiled. Though a few creases framed her lips, and threads of gray wound through her wavy black hair, the smile was pleasant.
Books checked on Sicarius, afraid he would scare her away with his glare. He was gone.
“Hello,” the woman said.
He stood and gave her a bow. “Help you, ma’am?”
She frowned slightly, and he wondered if he’d guessed incorrectly on the title. “My lady” would be appropriate for a warrior caste woman, but she did not wear the expensive-and often obnoxious-trappings of that class. With simple blouse and trousers to match her calf-high boots, the woman seemed someone who preferred the simple to the ostentatious. She was handsome, too, he couldn’t help but notice.
“My father sent me to research some of the family’s property.”
Ah, so she was warrior caste. Books winced at his social flub and searched for a way to correct it. “You seem…mature to be doing errands for your parents, my lady.”
She titled her head. “Did you just call me old?”
He winced again. Maybe he should have kept his lips shut. “No, er, not intentionally. I was just noting that…uhm…research, you say?”
“Indeed, so. I need to find the map for the area.” She eased past his table and started rifling through oversized scrolls, some frayed from time’s passing.
Books tried to concentrate on his own work, though he wished he could say something that would engage her in a conversation and make her forget his bumbling tongue.
A few moments later, she turned and eyed the papers before him. “Do you have the map for Irator’s Tooth Valley?”
“Ah.” He shuffled through scrolls. “Yes.”
She slipped into the seat next to him. “Mind if I take a look?”
“Not at all,” he mumbled, noticing she wore a pleasant perfume that smelled of spring wildflowers. The part of his mind able to think of other things wondered if it was coincidence that had her researching in the same part of the library as he was, or…not.
“Here we are.” She spread the map and traced the boundaries of a miles-wide swath of land stretching through a valley that lay in the midst of one of the passes across the mountains. The northern one, which lay near Mangdorian territory.
While she pulled a small notepad out, Books leaned closer to the map. His gut lurched. The lot number he had been hunting all over for was written in the center of a chunk of land adjacent to the property holding her interest. The plat map did not show contour lines, but from its proximity to the river and the limestone makeup of those mountains, he guessed it a rocky hillside.
“Do you know who owns that lot?” he asked before he could think better of it.
As soon as she turned narrowed eyes his way, he knew he should have said nothing. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m, ah, looking at properties I might be able to afford for retirement. A little cabin in the mountains sounds nice, don’t you think?” He hoped that tale did not sound as woefully fabricated to her as it did to him. Maybe adding flattery would improve it. “And a spot with a pretty neighbor would be nice.”
“I live in the city and am only able to visit my parents a couple of times a year. Also, you’re a little young to be thinking of retirement, aren’t you?”
He sat taller. “You think I look young?”
“Yes, that’s the sort of complimentary thing you’re supposed to say when talking to someone with gray in his-or her -hair.” She appeared more amused than offended. Good.
“Sorry, I’ve been told I don’t have the smoothest tongue. My name is…Marl. Well, Books these days. Yes, call me Books.”
“Vonsha,” she said.
He wanted to chat and find out more about this unlikely coincidence, but he feared he would give her more information than he received himself. Maybe he should simply find out where she lived and have Amaranthe visit. Of course, even that might prove difficult if he couldn’t unearth some charm.
He steeled himself with a deep breath. He had to try.
“Would you like to have hot cider later?” he blurted, then winced. That was hardly charming.
A rustle came from an aisle behind Books. He glanced back but did not spot anybody. Night had fallen outside the library’s windows, and the deep shadows between the lights on the outer wall could have hidden…much. Only the lamp on the desk illuminated the area around Books and Vonsha. For a moment, he thought it might be Sicarius, but Sicarius did not rustle.
“Something wrong?” Vonsha asked.
“Thought I heard something.”
“It’s a public library,” she said, though she glanced down the back aisle too. “Other people could be here this late.”
“Could be.”
Though he figured regular patrons would walk normally, with their footsteps thudding on the tile floor, not sneak about without making an appearance. He wondered if Sicarius remained in the building, monitoring, or if he had left, knowing Basilard would arrive soon.