“Of course,” the man said. “You must be the Keeper.” He bowed deeply. “I am the master of the library. Are you looking for an adventurous tale? Your sister did mention you are fond of them.” His dark eyes twinkled. “We have several new translations from beyond the empire. You likely will not have heard them.”

“I would be interested in those another time, master. Tonight I wish to identify a seal.”

His brows rose. “A seal?”

“A family crest, I believe.” She took the paper from her pocket, smoothed it, and showed him. “I am curious.”

“Curiosity is what lets a young mind grow and keeps an old mind young.” He peered at the paper. “Yes, it does appear to be a family crest. A secondary seal, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Secondary?”

He waved her to accompany him into the stacks of books. A few other scholars—old and young—glanced up, but only briefly, before returning to their studies.

“A noble family’s primary crest bears its emblematic beast. As such, it is easily identified.” He waved to a wall hanging, showing a dragon circling on itself. “The Tatsu crest. There is no mistaking it.” They continued walking. “However, there are times when the family wishes to send a message that is not immediately recognizable to all who see it. So they have secondary seals.”

Which made perfect sense, given the nature of this particular missive.

“I myself am not familiar with the secondary crests, but there’s someone here who will know. The old master of the library.”

He led her to an elderly man sitting at a long table, transcribing a crumbling text onto new pages. The younger man cleared his throat and then gave a slight bow when the old man looked up.

“Master, this is the Keeper of Edgewood. She brings a family crest that she wishes identified. It appears to be a secondary one.”

“Oh?” The old man’s gaze settled on Moria. “The Keeper of Edgewood. I heard you were in court. Welcome.” He began to rise stiffly from his low seat to bow, but she stopped him and he settled back with a grateful sigh. “Thank you, my lady. My old bones prefer the shape of a cushion these days. Now, you bring me a crest?”

She handed him the drawing. As he took it, he reached for his looking glass. Then he glanced at the page and set the glass down again.

“I have no need of that,” he said. “I’ve seen this one often enough, though not in many a summer. Where did you—?” He stopped himself and smiled. “Ah, yes. I heard you came with the Kitsune boy. Did he have it on him?”

The old man didn’t seem to expect an answer, and Moria wasn’t sure she could have given one, her heart was pounding so hard. Finally she managed to say, “It is . . . the Kitsune crest?”