Page 26 of Her Shadow so Dark and Lovely
“Lorel,” Sila whispers, her fingers combing through my hair. Without my glasses, she’s a little indistinct. The blood is gonefrom her cheeks, so she must have washed up while I slept. “Are you hungry? Or shall I let you rest some more?”
I don’t need to reply because my stomach grumbles as if it has been waiting for someone to notice it and provide it with sustenance. I’m reluctant to move. I like the way her fingers feel in my hair, her nails gentle against my scalp.
Her face softens in a smile. “Come along then. Let us get you fed.” She moves away from the bed and if I could make a noise, it would be the most melancholy of sighs. I rub the sleep from my eyes as I sit up, and I remember to fetch my glasses before I go.
She had been so prickly before, hurt and wary as she’d turned away from me, and now she’s being so soft. I don’t understand it. Librarians are not soft with scribes. They’re not soft with anyone.
Sila has removed the books from a small table and chairs in the room's corner, unearthing it from the scholarly debris.
Are these all Library books?
I yawn wide and drop into a chair, stretching my arms high above my head and forgetting that I’m only wearing a shift. Sila’s amusement is back, dancing in her eyes, tipping up the edges of her mouth. It seems her good humour has returned— though whether it is from dealing with dead bodies or antagonising Mercias, I cannot say.
“Some are, I think,” she says. She leaves the room and returns with a tray. It is far fancier than the ones from the scribes’ quarters, both the tray itself and the offering upon it. I blink at it slowly. There is a mushroom and vegetable stew, an assortment of pickles, a round of bread, and in the corner is a soft cheese. Only it’s drenched in a sweet golden syrup that isn’t something usually wasted on the scribes. I look back up at Sila, uneasy. This is surely not for me. She places it firmly on the table in front of me.
I suppose you don’t have to pay late fees then.
Sila smiles, her teeth flashing dangerously through it. “They are welcome to try. Now eat.”
Are you sure this is mine?
Sila makes a little huff of a laugh. “I am certain.”
I hesitate for a moment more before deciding that if I don’t, there is a real threat that Sila will feed me herself. I dig into the stew, and maybe it's just how hungry I am— because I doubt there is really any difference between this and my usual fare— but it’s possibly one of the most delicious things I’ve ever eaten in my life.
Sila lounges in the spindle-legged chair across from me. She’s not watching me, her eyes focused off somewhere across the room in thought. I reach out and brush my fingers against her arm to get her attention.
“Are you still hungry?” she asks. Her face is unguarded with a gentle smile, and it takes me a moment to remember why I wanted her attention.
I haven’t finished yet.
“Hmm, I can see that now. If it is not to your tastes, I can find something different.” Sila rests her head in her hand as she leans on the table.
It’s not about the food. It’s just, what do we do now?
“Oh, I thought you did not believe me?”
I don’t know what to believe anymore. I can barely light a sigil properly, and I’ve probably only ever squished a spider accidentally. I’ve no idea why you all want me dead. Except maybe if it has something to do with this.I pull my collar down to display the inky black mark, only a few days older than when she last saw it and already closer to Sila’s hand-span than to mine.I don’t know if I believe you. I don’t know if I don’t either. It’s a lot to take in. But… it wouldn’t be the strangest thing happening right now, would it?
There’s a wry smile caught at the edges of her mouth again. “No, it certainly would not.” Her eyes are fixed on the mark across my chest, and they close off, cold and unfathomable. “It is growing.”
I think it will consume me.
“I will not countenance that,” Sila says, sharp. She takes a deep, steadying breath. “You said you could remember nothing.”
I can’t. I picked up a book from my desk. I woke up in the infirmary.
“And you have not found the book yet?” Sila taps her fingers on the table surface, her mouth pinched as if she is coming around to a thought that does not please her.
No. I have no idea where it went.
She’s silent, wrestling with something. She makes a frustrated noise in the back of her throat. “I think I know where to find it,” she says eventually. She looks back at the mark and this time there is resignation there instead. I’m not so sure what to make of that.
How?
Sila reaches over the table, tugging my shift back up and tying it gently. “There is only one place to find such a book, and that is in the Heart of the Library.”
“You are to stay within my rooms,” Sila says sternly. “This is the safest place for you, and thus far, no one knows you are here. There is food in the kitchenette, and you can read what you wish.” Her cloak is thrown around her shoulders, and I don’t think I could disobey the tone of her voice if I tried.
