She bowed her head, and when at last she turned around, she was overcome by the sight of tears on every face.

At the sound of the secret knock, Farilane set down her quill and looked up. “Come in, Kile.”

He looked just the same as he had when Virgil first led him in.

Farilane had been up all night. She had so much to do and so little time. Her rooms were still a mess. It would take weeks to reassemble everything into piles of sense. The future librarians would certainly curse her name when they came for her legacy.

She looked at the stars outside her window. “It’s late. It’ll be dawn soon.”

Kile stepped gingerly through the room’s treasures and nodded. “No one will do it.”

“What?” Farilane asked, standing up. She had long pondered what she ought to wear. People usually didn’t have the luxury of picking an outfit to die in. Still, there was only one she’d ever felt comfortable in, so she faced Kile in her legion pajamas.

“No one will serve as executioner.”

“No one?” she said puzzled. “Surely I’ve made someone hate me.”

“You did, but the Teshlors have already buried them.”

“And there’s no one else?”

“Not in this city.” Kile said it with pride.

Farilane shook her head in mock disgust. “Where’s Mawyndulë when you need him?”

Kile moved to the desk, where he paused to study the pages she’d been writing on. “Last-minute notes?”

She nodded. “Doubt anyone will be able to read them. My hands—they’ve been shaking a bit. I talk a good game, but, honestly, I’m scared.”

“I know.” Kile moved close to her and laid his hand on the small of her back. The press of his palm felt warm.

“Is there an afterlife, Kile?”

“Yes.” The word was a whisper in her ear.

“Is it wonderful?”

“I don’t know. I’m not allowed in.”

“But Virgil will be there, right? And my mother, and Jona, and . . . oh, and Brin. I can ask her what’s in the Second Book, can’t I?”

“Perhaps.”

Farilane looked at the window and thought she noticed a faint light that made the stars fade. Dawn was breaking.

“You can see the future, Kile, but can you see all the futures? Can you see the one where I choose to live?”

“Yes. Yes, I can.” Again, the words seemed forced out in a gust.

“In it . . . are we together?” She was looking out the window. She couldn’t face him. It hurt too much.

“Yes.” She heard it then. Kile’s voice cracked.

“Is it nice?”

He didn’t answer.

“I’m not going to change my mind, if that’s what—”