Page 117 of Keldori By Daybreak

Iseult’s white eyebrows jumped up, and she pushed me aside to press her hands against the stone wall.

“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, that’s clever.”

“What’s—” Orla cut off as her mouth dropped open.

The wall shimmered around Iseult’s hands, light radiating outwards like water rings on the surface of a pond. Her fingers sank into the stone, and she grunted.

“It’s a Skal-construct,” she explained through gritted teeth. “And it’s fighting back, but I can dissolve it.”

“Okay, but what if it’s not the library?” Orla whispered. “What if we’re breaking into someone’s home?”

“You’d hope if someone lived here, it would at least have windows.” I shrugged. Orla shrugged back, clearly not convinced. “Besides, we’re already wanted by both the Barony and the army outside. What’s a little breaking and entering?”

“I think we’ll be fine,” Iseult grunted as the wall finally gave and dissolved away into metallic steam that hung on the air. “Because that definitely looks like a library entrance.”

An ornate stairway glinted behind the curtain of steam. Marble steps led up a short flight to red painted double doors. A marble cat gargoyle identical to the statue on the bridge in everything but material sat on the top step.

“What if it’s locked?” Orla whispered, but Iseult was already halfway up the stairs, her Skal leg flashing beneath the hem of her robes with each step.

Iseult grabbed the curved door handle of silver and heaved.

The door groaned on its hinges as it swung forward and revealed the marble hall beyond. A ceiling of arched glass filled the space with the dying light of day, and silhouettes of vines waved against the distant sky.

Orla and I joined Iseult in the entryway, and the three of us stared at the hall. As extravagant and spacious as it was, it was also empty.

“Where are the books?” Orla hissed.

“I don’t know,” Iseult said. “Where do libraries normally keep their books?”

“Shelves, typically.” I glowered at the empty walls. “But where are the shelves?”

“Excuse me, how did you get in?” A young woman in a long, airy dress bustled down the hall. Her braids and skirts flew behind her in her hurry to meet us, and her circular glasses threatened to teeter off the end of her long nose. “We’re closed to visitors—”

Iseult pulled her headscarf back and let her white hair fall forward. The woman’s eyebrows hitched as she came to a halt.

“This is Lysanor's library, correct?” Iseult asked.

“Whether this library is Lysanor’s or not, it doesn’t change the fact that it is closed,” the woman clipped.

Iseult smirked and threw her hair over her shoulder. “Right. Tell Lysanor her niece is here.”

The woman, sized us up, perhaps weighing her odds in a fight should the worst come to worst, then deflated.

“Of course,” she conceded. “Please wait here, miss…?”

“Lady Iseult of Tulyr.”

The woman nodded and hurried back down the massive corridor.

I craned my neck to take in the marble floor, pillars, and darkening sky. The veins of Skal-formed opal in the Great Willow glowed against the oncoming night.

“We’re in the library. Have you found an exit yet?” I asked Ciarán in my head.

“Almost. Hurry, Wren. Things at the Northern Gate were getting heated by the time we left.”

“Let me do the talking.” Iseult’s voice cut into my mental conversation with Ciarán. “She’s family, so she’s most likely to listen to me.”

“But you’ve never met her,” Orla clarified.