When we finally reach the doorstep of the library, my head buzzes with exhaustion. Sebastian is nearly asleep on his feet. The only thing keeping me awake is the ache all over my body. I’m vaguely aware of Maeve knocking on the heavy wooden door and the keen-eyed woman who answers. I can’t focus on the words they exchange, but she seems to need some convincing. Eventually the door opens, and we trip inside. The woman’s expression appears confused, but I chalk it up to my exhaustion. I’m careful to keep my magic close. I need their help; I don’t wish to start off on the wrong foot by invading their privacy on their threshold.

Through lidded eyes, I see hints of stone walls and candles lining the way through a long corridor. Just when I believe I couldn’t possibly take another step, a door opens and we’re shuffled inside a room with several cots. Someone—Maeve, I think—sets me down on the nearest one. It feels like the softest bed I’ve ever slept in. Her shadow looms over me, and soft lips whisper over my forehead. Sleep well, little one, she thinks.

And I do.

Chapter Ten

When the sun wakes me the next morning, I ache everywhere. I groan and roll over to find I’m alone. The room is small but contains three cots. I suppose this must be where they keep unexpected guests.

Reaching out with my talent to search for any familiar minds nearby, I can sense Sebastian dreaming in a room next to me and Maeve awake in the hall. I leave my bed behind to join her. Her face lights up when she sees me.

“Simone. How did you sleep?”

I stretch and yawn. “All right. But I’m sore. I’m not used to walking this much anymore.” When I traveled with Lord Tate and Alden, they usually gave me a pony to ride or brought me on the horse with them. I love to wander, but in the last couple of days, I’ve seen more than I ever have in my life. Well, that I can remember, anyway.

“Have you talked to the head librarian yet?”

Maeve sighs. “I’m waiting for her now.”

“Do you think they’ll let us stay?” I swallow hard. At the moment, my greatest fear isn’t the body walker; it’s that we’ll never find the help we need.

Maeve brushes a wayward lock of my wispy hair from my face. “Of course they will. How could they possibly say no to you?”

My throat constricts. We haven’t shared with Maeve that the librarians visited us once before and did exactly that. But this time, under different circumstances, and with very little effort required on their part, I hope they’ll agree. Jemma thought they would.

Sebastian’s door cracks open and he peeks out, rubbing his bleary eyes. “Morning,” he says. His dark curls are even more mussed up than my pale locks, and that makes me giggle.

The sharp clickety-clack of shoes on stone rings out down the hall. A librarian I recognize—Rachel, the book binder—turns the corner with an odd look on her face. She startles when she sees me and Sebastian.