“And you?”

He laughed outright. “No, thanks.”

“I wish I knew a way to get you back here. I think you miss this.” She gestured at her office. It was a plain affair, with a desk, shelves, Blanks. A few precious originals carefully shelved behind a panel of glass. His gaze fixed on them, and instantly he felt that sensation: longing. He wanted to take those books in his hands and experience the texture of the covers, the smell of the pages. Books spoke mind to mind, soul to soul across the abyss of time and distance.

He did miss all this. Desperately. “I’m fine, I tell you. How’s Dario? Are you two still . . . friendly?”

She shrugged. “Dario is an arrogant ass.”

“So you’re still seeing him, then.”

That made her laugh outright, and he liked seeing happiness on her face. “We understand each other.” She blinked, and the amusement faded fast. “Speaking of understandings . . . Have you heard from Morgan?”

He didn’t want to lie to her again, but he did. Effortlessly, to protect Morgan, if nothing else. “Morgan isn’t likely to ever leave the Iron Tower again. You know that.” And I did that to her. She could have run. Maybe she would have made it.

“I’m so sorry. I know—” She seemed to search for just the right words. “I know how much she meant to you, though you try not to show it.”

He said nothing to that. The compassion in her voice made the half-truth hurt as if it were true. And it could be true, despite what he wanted to believe. Morgan might forever be nothing more than words on a page to him, like those originals safe from his touch behind glass.

“Jess.” Khalila drew his gaze back to her. “What is it Scholar Wolfe used to tell us? ‘Anything is possible. The impossible just takes longer.’”

“Stupid saying.”

“Surprisingly true, though. How should I contact you? Not by Codex, I assume.”

“Paper messages,” he said. “Put nothing down that you wouldn’t want the Archivist reading. And give your notes only to those you trust completely. Nobody else.”

“I’ve missed you. We can be friends again, finally. I’ve missed you so much, Jess.” She hugged him once more, and he hugged her back. In some ways, the bonds he’d formed with her, Dario, Glain, Morgan, Thomas . . . those had been more important to him than the ties he had by birth to his twin. I let Morgan down, he thought. But not them. Not this time. “Do you want me to tell Dario about Thomas?”

“No, I’ll do it. Is he here? In the Lighthouse?”

“Yes, he’s three floors down, in Scholar Prakesh’s offices. He’s working as her assistant. You’re going to see him?”

“Does that surprise you?”

“A little. I admit, I never thought you two would pay each other visits like reasonable adults. Tell him. He’ll want to help as much as I do.” She patted his cheek in an almost motherly way. “The two of you are so alike.”