“Okay.” Dev thought that pretty much anybody would be a curmudgeon if they lost their entire family and people. And their palace that they’d probably worked really hard on. It made him feel warmer toward the gray man, knowing his kindness never wavered toward the dragons. If Dev were a ruler, that’s how he’d want to be too.

Dev reentered the middle turret that Astrid was looking inside and stopped at the bottom of the staircase to let his eyes adjust. He sniffed the air, like Astrid had done, but his dragon senses weren’t even close to being fully developed, and he didn’t smell anything but the foxes. As he waited, he ran a hand over the scales on his arm, thinking about what it would be like to have all of the dragon senses and abilities, rather than just the scales and the fiery breath and an occasional premonition. Being able to see in the dark would be nice.

When he could make out the steps, he started climbing, following the spiral. Sometimes he’d look down over the railing at the floor below to see that Astrid was still there. He passed by the entryway that led to the second floor, which was stripped of all decor and whose rotted floor didn’t look safe to walk on. But the stone steps seemed stable, so he climbed them. He passed the third floor, and the fourth, and the fifth, all of which were similar to the second floor. Finally he rounded the last curve of stairs, which meant he was entering the bulbous top part of the turret. He looked up at an unusually small opening, like a large trapdoor. Continuing up, he poked his head through and discovered himself at one side of a huge, round room. The walls curved around to form a point far above his head.

It looked like the inside of an onion, but it smelled like books. As Dev climbed the last steps and reached the landing, he noticed it was a trapdoor—he could close and lock it from the inside if he wanted to. He kept moving and could make out in the shadowy light that this tower was very different from the castle Grimere’s tower that he’d been trapped in. This turret was an incredible library. There were more books than Dev had ever seen before in his life, even in the castle. They lined the walls from floor to ceiling and all around the widest part of the bulb. Shelves loaded with books even hung on rusty chains from the ceiling, though they were way too high for Dev to reach.

On the floor were stacks and stacks of books, and around the stacks were several pieces of furniture. Four old claw-foot chairs, a number of small sofas and fainting couches, some of which had fabric that was decayed and disintegrating. There was an ancient-looking harp on one side of the round room, surrounded by several smaller instruments. A big wooden desk that looked like it was too enormous and heavy to be moved stood on the other side. More books were on top of the desk, and some of them were open. There was a candelabra there too, in the center of everything, but no apparent way to light it. Dev went over to it and pursed his lips, concentrating and waiting until the heat boiled up in his throat. He blew a steady, narrow stream of air, and fiery bits came out with it, igniting the wicks and illuminating the desk.