He stood still, fighting the urge to run to Isak and beg forgiveness.

No, Joe had to stay dead. He had to keep up this sacri­fice, for his family’s sake.

‘Come on, Joe,’ Winter whispered. ‘Let’s keep moving. Remember why we’re here.’ 97

She was right. He was on a different path now, and it had led him to his purple egg. He held his head a little higher and started walking.

The library was in one of the turrets of the palace itself – that ancient stone castle with four towers, the palace of the four winds. Even though he’d been coming here all his life, it still took Joe’s breath away: the curving stone buttresses that braced the main building like ribs; all the stone carvings of stars and dragons, fishes and flames; and then, as he headed for the steps, he crossed the famous black dragon mosaic that dated back to the time of the old kings.

They slipped inside, walking softly across the polished floors.

Going into the library felt like coming home. Joe had always loved it here. He’d spent hours as a small boy leafing through the old books that Isak let him touch – the ones with the vivid paintings of other lands, of high seas or frozen mountains, tangled forests and stalking tigers. He loved its curved walls lined with books, the way light slanted down from the high windows. He loved the odd stepladders built on two wheels, to be moved from shelf to shelf, so he could reach even the highest books, and he’d tested those ladders to their limits. Why had he stopped coming? He couldn’t remember. Only that in recent years, there had been other things to do.

There was a large grey-haired woman in flowing robes reading at the librarian’s desk. She smiled a warm greeting. ‘Come in, come in.’

‘Hello, Susanna,’ Winter said. 98

‘Morning, Winter, we haven’t seen you in a few weeks.’

‘Been busy,’ Winter mumbled and shuffled off inside.

Then Susanna turned to Joe and asked brightly, ‘First visit?’

Face burning, throat dry, Joe gulped. ‘Er, hello. Yes, yes, it’s my first visit,’ he lied.

‘Let me know if I can help with anything,’ Susanna said, peering over her eyeglasses.

‘Thank you!’ Fizzy with relief, he said, ‘Please can you help me? I’m, er …’ What could he say? ‘I’m researching … rare animals!’

Susanna looked quizzical. ‘Can you narrow it down?’

‘I mean, myths! Or maybe a mixture of animals and myths? Things that hatch from eggs, but not typical dragons.’ He was babbling again.

She pointed towards the back of the library and Joe scut­tled away in that direction. People of all ages were dotted around the room, poring over books. It had that special, in­tense kind of quiet: a mixture of calmness and concentration.

In the old days, Duke Olvar had kept the library a secret, hoarding the books for his own use. Now every person in Arcosi was welcome to visit here and read anything they liked. Joe’s brother, Isak, had added to the old duke’s collec­tion, buying more books and scrolls from around the world, travelling with his golden dragon Belara to trade for rare manuscripts in distant lands.