Han swore silently. He hadn’t slid it back into place yet.

Fiona paused at the foot of the ladder, looking around again, her head cocked, listening.

Han kept shut and still.

Fiona shrugged, took hold of the ladder, and began to climb.

Han knew that what he should do was take this opportunity to pike off before he was noticed. But his curiosity was piqued. What was Fiona Bayar doing so high in the library, skulking around like she didn’t want to be seen? Han waited a few moments, then ghosted up the ladder after her.

When he cautiously poked his head through the opening on the seventh floor, Fiona was nowhere to be seen. Easing himself through the hatch, he slipped between two rows of shelves, heading for the rear of the library.

“What are you doing here?”

Han whirled around, his hand on his useless amulet.

Fiona stood between Han and the open hatchway. Her usually pristine clothes were streaked with dust, and she wore a black smudge, like a gang sign, on her right cheek.

“Studying,” he said. “Reading. What else would I do in a library?”

“Without notes? Without papers?”

Han looked at his empty hands as if he’d never seen them before. “I left all that downstairs. Too heavy to carry.” It was not his finest hour as a liar.

She put her hands on her hips. “Were you following me?”

“Not on purpose,” Han said. “I heard a noise, so I came to see what it was.” That was better. “What are you doing here?” He waved his hand at the shelves of moldering books.

“Studying,” she mocked. “Reading. What else?”

Han wasn’t going back to his crib, not with her there. So he turned to the shelf behind him and pretended to scan the titles. He watched her from the corner of his eye in case she made a move on him.

Not that he’d be able to defend himself, depleted as he was. He hoped she couldn’t tell.

She stepped in close. “Tithe Records for the Cathedral Church?” Fiona was reading over his shoulder. He could feel her breath on the back of his neck.

“Do you mind?” Han said. “You’re bothering me.”

“Alister,” Fiona said softly. “Why is Dean Abelard protecting you?”

Han turned around and ended up nearly nose to nose with her, his back against the shelf. “What makes you think she’s protecting me?”

“Micah said she told him to leave you alone,” Fiona said.

“Maybe she’s just doing her job,” Han said. “You know. Keeping students from killing each other.”

“Micah and I don’t agree on everything,” Fiona said, fingering her amulet. “Our interests don’t always coincide.” She paused as if considering whether to go on. “Have you ever thought that it might make sense for us to work together?”

“Us?” Han repeated. “You mean, you and me?”

Fiona nodded.