When Quinn died, it was as if part of Damien had died with him, a severing she had felt within Damien’s dreamscape.

Even now, she could feel Damien’s sorrow swelling up inside her own heart. Selene pressed a hand against her chest. No wonder Damien had seemed listless.

She watched the flames flicker and dance in the fireplace across from her. Should she do something when she arrived back at Northwind Castle? Was there even anything she could do?

And why do I care?

She turned her gaze to the table surface. There was this deep and powerful urge to comfort Damien, something she had never experienced before.

Strange. What did it mean? Now that she no longer hid herself behind an icy shroud, was it possible her heart was returning to her? Or was it something more? Some kind of connection that had formed from her dreamwalks?

“Here you are, my lady.” Cohen carefully placed a leather-bound book as thick as three fingers on the table in front of Selene. “These are the writings of Pallion, one of the first scholars to write about the Great Houses.”

A leather cord held the tome closed. Selene fingered the tie, then began to work the loop. “So his work is set before the razing of the empire?” she asked as she undid the knot.

“Yes. I’m not sure how far back since I have not personally read or copied any of his work. But it might give you a starting point.”

Selene pulled the leather cord away from the tome, then paused. She looked up at Cohen. “Could I also see any books you have on the Light? Perhaps something that explains who or what he is?”

“Certainly. The best place to start is with Father Dominick’s personal essays. His are the most easy to understand. He wrote them in conjunction with the sacred texts as a way to help young monks learn the basics of the Old Ways. I’ve also seen him share his work with some of the people from Nor Esen.”

Selene nodded. “That would be wonderful. Thank you, Cohen.”

Cohen grinned as he bowed. “My pleasure, Lady Selene. If you have any questions, please let me know.”

“I will.” Selene slowly opened the tome, careful to keep her fingers on the very edges of the parchment. The calligraphy was superb, each letter exact and straight. She began to read, but in the far back of her mind the shadow of Damien’s sorrow over Quinn’s death hung over her.

Selene and Karl made their way through the snow hours later, reaching Nor Esen’s gates just as they began to shut. The sky grew darker by the minute as the wintry night came and more clouds gathered, plump with snow.

The tip of her nose and her fingers were numb, despite the gloves. She pulled her cowl farther down her face and pushed on through the streets with her head bowed. No one was out this evening. And probably hardly anyone would be venturing out once this storm hit. She was grateful she had been able to visit the abbey and read before more snow came and kept her bound inside Northwind Castle.