Water damage—it would have washed away most of the ink. But not necessarily all of it. Just what was visible to the naked eye.

She surged to her feet, gripping the neck of her microscope. Maybe she did have something to offer. She hurried into the outer room and to the kitchen table around which the others all huddled. “I may be able to help!”

They turned to her, their varied expressions saying so much about them. Her brother—doubtful. Sheridan—surprised she was still there. Mabena—indulgent. Beth and Lady Emily—curious.

Oliver—perfectly confident in her.

She smiled and moved to the table, nudging Oliver out of the way so that she could capture the light from the window.

He didn’t seem to mind. “Excellent thought, Libby. We may be able to see under magnification what we can’t normally.”

Bram, predictably, snarled. “Libby? Her name is Lady Eliz—”

“Really, Bram. Give it a rest.” She sat in the chair Oliver held out for her and nudged the mirror until it caught the sunlight and angled it up through her eyepiece. The brilliance brought Orfeo springing up, but she’d only managed to hum the first four notes before Bram’s snort of laughter silenced her. Clearing her throat, she looked up at Beth. “May I?”

Beth passed the map to her, and her fingers closed around the worn parchment. It certainly felt old, and it looked it too. Having never really studied maps, though, she found the markings on it more scribbles than intelligible clues. How were they to know what the lines meant, and the dashes, and the swirly bits?

They weren’t relying on her to decode it though. Just to see if the parchment itself was hiding any other secrets. Praying her light was strong enough to help with that, she started in the corners that were intact and moved the parchment inch by inch to familiarize herself with how it looked.

“Well?” Sheridan.

Oliver chuckled. “Give her some time, my lord. I daresay she hasn’t examined much parchment under magnification before. It’ll take a bit of getting used to.”

She would have paused to shoot Oliver a grateful smile if she hadn’t just reached a portion that had some ink upon it. “How interesting.”

“What?” Sheridan must have abandoned his chair while she set everything up, because he pushed Bram aside and crowded her left side. “What’s interesting?”

“The ink. Under magnification, it’s quite interesting. I can see where the iron gall has rusted and turned brown and still make out a bit of the black base of it as well. And I can see the flow change with the pen strokes. Quite interesting indeed.” She moved the map around, rolling the edges gently out of the way so she could trace the path of the long-ago pen.

“How is that helpful? Do you think?”