“No one,” Jess said, and told her a shortened story about the illegal book and his confession to Wolfe, Santi, and Glain. “Santi’s worried we’ll all do something stupid now. To be fair, he’s probably right about that.”

She crossed back to her chair and sat, then absently dabbed at the corners of her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. A few blinks, and the tears vanished, leaving a hard, luminous shine. “And you believe this? You’re sure?”

She was asking him to be logical, not emotional. Jess took a moment to order his thoughts. “Devil’s advocate? It’s exactly the kind of ruse the Archivist would love to try,” he admitted. “And maybe he’d be careful enough to make me work for months to lay hands on this information. So I’m not completely sure, not yet. We might never be completely sure. Maybe we’ll have to take a chance.”

“You must be sure,” she told him. “If it’s a trap . . .”

She wasn’t saying how much she’d lose for it, but he was acutely aware. “We need to find records of where the Library likes to keep its most dangerous prisoners,” he said. “I’m just not sure how to get to them—and that’s where you come in, I think. You’re the best researcher I know, Khalila.”

“Without a doubt.” She had the sweetest smile, one that dimpled just at the corner to let him know she was silently mocking him. “And you want me to proceed?”

“Carefully. Khalila, I mean it: carefully.”

“Of course. I understand the risks.” She paused for a moment, then came to sit next to him again, hands folded in her lap. “Jess—having been here in the Lighthouse for the past few months, I have heard . . . disturbing things about Scholar Wolfe. That he may not be himself, or—”

“A few books short of a full library?” Jess finished, and was rewarded with a nod. “It’s true: he went through terrible things before we met him, and they left scars. But I don’t think he’s broken beyond repair, and I think we can count on him. All this makes sense. Thomas had—has—too good a mind for the Library to just discard. They’ll want to use him. Isn’t that logical?”

“Perhaps,” she said. “Or it’s just difficult for us to believe the arrogance that would destroy such a beautiful mind. Such a . . . such a beautiful person as Thomas.” That thought killed another of her lovely smiles, and Jess hurt to see it.

“We have two choices,” he said. “We can choose to believe he’s dead or choose to believe he’s alive. Believing he’s dead is safer, but—”

“But so cruel,” she whispered. “What if he’s alive? Suffering? Thinking we will come for him, and we never do?”

Jess nodded. It never left his mind for long, the idea that somewhere, Thomas Schreiber was counting on him for rescue. “That’s why I can’t let this go, Khalila, trap or no trap. I just can’t. I won’t ask you to do anything more than a little research—”