Maeve speaks first. “We seek knowledge and understand that this is the best place in the three territories to acquire it.”

Euna raises an eyebrow. “And what knowledge exactly are you seeking?”

“The whereabouts of our families. My children have gone missing. And this girl, Simone”—Maeve puts her hands on my shoulders—“is searching for her family too.”

Rachel steps forward. “Simone was one of Lady Aisling’s captives, ma’am. She has a talent.”

Euna seems surprised. “Really? And what can you do, my dear?” She leans toward me.

“I’m a mind reader,” I say. “But I try not to do it without permission.”

“Of course,” Euna says thoughtfully.

“All I know of my family is that they lived in the village of Wren somewhere in Parilla, possibly long ago. But no one has ever heard of Wren. We were hoping there might be some record of it in your archives.”

“Ah, then you don’t know when the Lady took you,” Euna says. The irritation she exuded when she first entered has dulled and is turning toward warmth. Maybe even sympathy. Or perhaps that’s just the fire. I’m too nervous to peek into her mind to find out for certain. I doubt she’d appreciate that, and it wouldn’t be the best way to start if we want to be allowed to stay here.

“We don’t have any researchers to spare at the moment,” Euna warns. “You would have to hunt through our collections yourselves. It will be tedious and may take a long time. And even then, we can’t promise results. But if Wren really did exist and any maps or scrolls about it survive, they will be here.”

Hope rises in my chest and flies out my mouth before I can stop it. “Does this mean we can stay?”

Rachel laughs, and Euna speaks. “Yes. Rachel will take you to the wing with available rooms and show you where the books you need might be. And she will show you where you can get some breakfast too. I have no doubt it was a long journey, and you must be famished.”

She stands and takes her leave, though not without a sideways glance at Maeve, who seems relieved.

I’m relieved too. After our experience with Ida, the older librarian, I was afraid Euna would say no. But now that that’s settled, my stomach growls so loudly, I can’t hear over it. Breakfast first, then everything else can come later.

* * *

Rachel brings us to a larger room that perhaps was once filled to the brim with people from the three territories visiting and learning, but that number has slowed to a trickle. Or maybe we’re just late for breakfast. I never was good with time.

A large round table set out with breakfast stables sits in the center of the room. Bowls of fruit, hard-boiled eggs, sausages, breads and cheeses, muffins, and griddle cakes—my favorite—make my mouth water.

“This is where we meet for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We have excellent cooks on staff,” Rachel says. “Please help yourselves. I’ll return in half an hour to bring you to your quarters, and then I’ll show you where to begin your research.” She ducks back through the doorway, leaving us with the food and a handful of other librarians and researchers.