“She did,” the man said. “I can leave your name for her, if you wish. Or you can come back tomorrow morning.”

Agnes hesitated, then said, “Actually, I’m looking for someone else.”

“Oh?” the man asked, raising one eyebrow. “How many interviews do you have?”

“It’s not an interview, it’s . . . my grandmother. I’m trying to find her and she told me she has friends here, at the university. I was hoping someone might be able to tell me where she is.”

The pale eyes narrowed. “And who might your grandmother be?”

Agnes swallowed hard. “Ambrosine Byrne.”

The books fell to the floor with a thud. “You are Agnes,” he gasped.

Agnes blinked. “Um, yes.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t . . . you have the look of your father.”

“How do you know who I am? Do you know my grandmother?”

The man smiled like the question was amusing in some way. “Yes,” he said. “I know her.”

Relief stabbed through her chest. “Can you help me find her?”

“She has just left Ithilia,” he said. “Only hours ago.”

“Left?” Agnes said, her head spinning. “No. She can’t be gone. She said she would be here.”

“How are you knowing this?” Vada asked.

“Because she told me,” the man said. “Please, allow me to introduce myself. I am Matthias Byrne. Ambrosine is my mother.”

Agnes heard Vada mutter, “Holy shit,” but didn’t think herself capable of speech, though she agreed with the sentiment. She stared at the man who was her uncle and felt he was nothing like she’d been imagining the Byrnes. He seemed so mild mannered, so innocuous. Now that she knew, though, she could just make out Leo’s features in his long nose and the shape of his eyes. Their color, of course, was nowhere near as vibrant, and his chin was rounder, his lips thinner, his cheeks plumper.

He seemed to understand what she was doing. “Alethea got the looks in the family,” he said wryly. “Hektor too. I take after our father.”

This was her mother’s brother, Agnes realized with a start. She felt as if her brain should be keeping up better. Then she remembered Culinnon and took a step backward.

“I don’t want any trouble,” she said.

Matthias frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Vada stepped up. “We are hearing that you might not be so happy that Agnes has come to Pelago. Word is the Byrne brothers may not want Agnes inheriting Culinnon.”