Page 75 of Lore of the Wilds

“I thought the book spoke to you.”

“Not since we were in my room at Wyndlin Castle. I think it was the strongest there, perhaps powered by something in the castle. Or maybe it could only talk to me when making a bargain? I don’t know.” Lore pulled her hand free, frustrated.

Finndryl frowned again before nodding slowly. “Okay.”

She smiled. “You’ll help? Thank you!” She almost threw her arms around him before remembering that this was Finndryl. He would probably put a dagger through her chest before he would ever embrace her.

His brows pulled together. “I’m not helping you because I want to. It’s because of how much you’ve done for my father. I haven’t seen him this happy since I was a kid. You’ve given him a reason to enjoy life again—I would repay that.”

Chapter22

The next day, after the dinner rush had come and gone, Lore cleaned up, filled a basket with food for Flix for his kids, prepped for the next day’s lunch, and waited for Finndryl to kick the last of the stragglers out and close the tavern.

She was just placing lit candles on one half of the large oak table that she usually reserved for preparing food. But this evening, she’d cleared the space, scrubbed it twice, and set out two steaming mugs of tea.

When Finndryl finally appeared, his tall frame filled up the entire doorway and he had to dip his head to miss hitting it on the frame. He surveyed the kitchen, jaw clenched as he took in the cascade of drying herbs that now hung from the rafters, the cabinets overflowing with spices, and finally, the two mugs on the table.

Lore wiped her apron, suddenly hyper aware of the sauce stain on the front just over her right breast. She shouldn’t care what he thought of her outfit, and yet, she did. She should have changed.

Her own eyes flitted from his arms to his face and back down. He was holding an armful of scrolls.

“You’re here. I wasn’t sure if you had changed your mind or not.”

“What gave you that impression?”

“Well, when I didn’t see you this morning, I thought... I don’t know what I thought.” A nervous laugh escaped her. “That you had changed your mind, I guess.”

“I woke up early. I wanted to go to the library before the tavern opened.” He took the last step into the room.

“Please, sit. Let me help you with those—” She reached out, but he skirted around her.

“It’s fine, I’ve got it. Is this surface clean?” He eyed the table, squinting at it with suspicion.

“Yes, I wiped it twice, just now. It should be dry—”

“Will you move the tea? I don’t want to risk any spills.”

“Of course.” Lore grabbed the teacups and placed them near the hearth, trying not to grit her teeth. She had to remind herself that he was here tohelp, even if he seemed determined to rile her up.

With one more once-over of the table, Finndryl must have decided it looked clean enough because he placed the scrolls down, almost reverently. “Treat these with care. Technically, they’re not supposed to leave the library. They belong to the Master Scholar, but I’ve known him since I was young.” Finndryl pulled a chair out and sat, beginning to unwrap the cords securing the scrolls together. “I used to spend a lot of time at the library before we moved. He told me I could keep the scrolls as long as I needed, but eventually, I’ll have to return them.”

“I didn’t realize Tal Boro had a library. This is a pretty small town, isn’t it?” Lore sat as well, wishing she had something to do with her hands. She didn’t dare touch the scrolls without Finndryl’s permission, so she tucked her hands into her lap.

“You can hardly call it a library. My father almost has more books in his apartment than the library has in its entire collection. It’s nothing like the Edgemoor Library in Rywandall—whereIsla and I went to university. Though, the Master Scholar I mentioned? Rickeul? He has quite a collection himself. They belong to him, but he keeps them with the other scrolls and books.”

“Why don’t you have a collection of your own?” Lore thought back to the books and journals in her room, the ones that were now, probably, still buried beneath the ceiling.

“I don’t usually read books more than once.”

“Why not?” Lore thought of all the books she’d read again and again. Some of them she could almost recite word for word. Rereading a favorite book was like coming home after a long time away.

“I don’t need to. Once I read something, I don’t forget it.”

She opened her mouth to ask him another question, but he unrolled a blank scroll before she could. “Let’s start with the old alphabet. It’s quite similar to the Alytherian language spoken today. Most of the words are directly descended from Old Alytherian, in fact.” He spread out a blank piece of parchment and began to write out the old alphabet from memory, without even glancing once at one of the tomes or scrolls.

Lore raised an eyebrow. “So, youwerelying that day when I showed you the grimoire. I thought Isla’s reaction to you not being able to read it was odd. It was like she didn’t believe you.”

Finndryl didn’t have the decency to even pretend to be embarrassed at being caught in a lie. “Of course I knew how to read it. My main course of study at the university was alchemy, and almost every source of knowledge I was assigned to study was written in one extinct language or another. Sometimes a book was even written in three extinct languages.”

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