“She’s missing,” I say, frowning. “Look at this message she left me.”

I rummage around in the pocket of the pants I’d discarded and pull out the folded slip of paper. I hand it to Saengo, who quickly reads the odd message.

“What does it mean?” she asks, handing it back.

“Let’s find out.”

Phaut has been given the rest of the day off, so only Saengo’s dour guard follows us to the library. I wave at him as I shut the door in his face.

Death and rebirth. Aisle 15. Case 34. Bottom right corner.

Spinner’s End is a place of death and rebirth. The castle had been long abandoned when Ronin claimed it and gave it new life.

We count the aisles first and then the number of bookcases. When we’re standing in front of aisle fifteen and bookcase thirty-four, I crouch to peer at the spines on the bottom shelf.

The last book on the right reads: A Matter of Soulcraft.

My heart skips a little as I pull it out. When I flip it open, a letter tumbles to the floor.

Tentative, I reach down. The old parchment feels brittle. The wax seal is stamped with an unfamiliar symbol: a pair of crossed swords against a sun.

Saengo gives a reassuring smile. I break the seal and unfold the parchment.

The writing is Kendara’s. Tucked into the crease is a smaller square of paper, thicker than the parchment. On it, my name is written in an unfamiliar hand.

I stare at the card, a rushing sound filling my head as the walls of the library fall away. Something wrenches inside me. It feels almost like I’m observing the moment, looking down at myself as I hold up the same card tucked into my pocket the day my parents abandoned me to the monks, when I was two.

“Sirscha, what is that?” Saengo asks.

Wordlessly, I hand the card to her. My lips can’t seem to form any words. My fingers tremble as they smooth over the letter to read what’s written inside.

If you’re reading this, then you are exactly where you shouldn’t be. Still, I expect you’re prepared to face the challenges ahead. I made a promise to your mother that you would be taken care of, which means ensuring you’re equipped to take care of yourself. Trust no one, especially those who would use your magic. Whatever you decide, know that your mother loved you. As do I.

“What does it mean?” Saengo asks quietly. When I don’t respond, she touches my shoulder.

The words blur on the page. The parchment slips from my fingers. I draw a slow, uneven breath and press my shaking hands to my face.