“All right!” Han said, exasperated. “We’re meeting in Aediion, in Mystwerk Tower. I’ve never been there, so we’ll have to go there for real in order to find it in the dream world. We’ll leave about eleven fifteen. That gives us time to get in and get settled. You stand watch while I cross over. If I don’t come back, you come after me.”

Dancer reluctantly agreed.

Han beat back the worry that he wouldn’t be able to return to Aediion. And that Crow wouldn’t be there if he did.

Bayar Library was an ornate stone building on the riverbank, linked to Mystwerk Hall by arched stone galleries that sheltered students from the weather. The library reminded Han of the family that built it—intentionally intimidating.

It resembled a palace of learning, with its elaborately carved stairway railings and thick granite windowsills, its massive hearths ablaze late into the night. There were five main floors, meant for first-, second-, and third-level students, plus two with reading and conference rooms for masters and deans. Even higher were the stacks, reachable only by pull-down staircases and reserved for dedicated scholars.

Han ducked self-consciously under the Stooping Falcon signia engraved over the door, as if at any moment he might feel those extended talons sink into the skin on the back of his neck, and the razor-sharp beak tear into his flesh.

In the first-year reading room, the newlings shared access to magical texts so rare that even wealthy heirs of the wizard houses couldn’t afford their own. When Han and Dancer walked in, Han saw that Micah Bayar, Wil Mathis, and the Mander brothers had already claimed the prime turf next to the fire, their books and papers spread over a large round table.

A proficient sat by the door, ready to answer questions, issue passes, and make sure that those who used the reading rooms didn’t distract others from their work.

Micah was bent over his books as if he were studying hard. He slowly turned the pages, occasionally writing notes in an elegant leather-bound journal.

Miphis Mander stared into space, chewing on his pen. When he saw Han, his jaw dropped and his pen fell to the floor. His mouth opened and closed like a beached fish.

Just then, Fiona walked in from the adjacent room, carrying a large book, her finger marking a place in it. She wore a bored expression that transitioned to puzzlement as she ran her eyes over Han, taking in his bruised face and arm sling. She looked at Micah, then back at Han, and frowned.

She wasn’t in on it, Han realized. I thought they shared everything, but she didn’t know about this plan. I wonder why.