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‘Here are two other lines within it, and a further around the outside. Look, there’s a smudge near the next symbol. It belongs to this one.’ The Librarian peered more closely at the symbol before moving and making another impression in the snow. He grunted with dissatisfaction.

‘I wish I’d thought to copy these. I believed the wooden box it was stored within would keep it safe. I’d forgotten about the vagaries of the ink I wrote with.’

The Librarian had added an extra line with his gloved finger. It cut through the swirls. He stepped back.

‘It still doesn’t seem to be correct. I wish I could remember. Why can I remember the birth of my first child as if it was yesterday, but not this?’

The Librarian stamped off towards the library door. Skaldi watched him. He agreed. The symbol didn’t feel quite right. It was missing something. He glanced from the symbol on the ground to the Librarian’s retreating back.

Understanding rocked him. As it stood, the symbol was too easy for the Librarian’s kind to make. It needed something only his kind could provide. In such a way, the Second Speaker had made it impossible for the Librarian to rescue his kind. Such callousness rocked Skaldi, but enabled him to make a leap to complete the symbol. Skaldi placed his front claw within the centre of the symbol, and felt a rush of something envelop him, felt in a rustle of the breeze, and a gentle covering of snow that covered his face.

The Librarian evidently sensed it too. He turned back, a gleeful smile upon his face.

‘What did you do? Did you feel that?’ The Librarian rushed to examine the symbol.

He shook his head, muttering, ‘How could I have forgotten? Of course, they need a part of both of us to be effective. I wonder if Erann will be able to mirror your claw print in the cave.’

We’ll have to hope he can. Now, what do you think the second symbol is?

‘I believe it’s this one. It’s far more complicated than the first one.’

The symbol was smaller than the others on the script, squashed tightly in the corner between two other symbols which had remained bold and green.

‘It’s even more difficult to decipher. Why didn’t I put it on the back of the vellum?’ The Librarian chided himself, even while intently studying the script. He turned it from side to side, trying to determine which was the top and which the bottom. Skaldi ambled to the side. He began to drawn the symbol with one of his front claws. The Librarian was too engrossed to realise what he was doing.

Skaldi worked quickly on building the tightly packed swirls, which originated from a centre point up until the edges of the circle were reached. There were many of them, and his smallest claw was needed for the intricate elements, for on every fourth swirl there was a section left incomplete. This time, he placed his claw print slightly off centre so some of the swirling lines ran uninterrupted.

He constructed from his memories for he’d seen the symbol before. It was etched onto his cave wall. The only symbol in his private room that didn’t appear anywhere else. It must be more important to his kind than any other.

Skaldi called to the Librarian, when he remained unaware of Skaldi’s progress. Only then did the Librarian move to observe what he’d done.

‘That looks right but I haven’t felt the same rush of essence. Have you?’

There must be something missing. But it’s an exact copy of a symbol on the wall in my cave. Are there any others that are similar on your script? Perhaps I’ve confused it.

The Librarian pulled the script taut again. He spent some time reviewing the symbols. Skaldi tried to picture the symbol in his head to see if he’d erred in recreating it.

‘No, that’s the only one like that. Do you think there’s something missing on the corner. It looks as though my pen ran off the end of the vellum.’

Skaldi walked around the large symbol and stood behind the Librarian. He peered down at the tiny image the Librarian’s finger pointed at.

It’s not on the symbol in my home. I will share it with you as you are like Erann, and I can share with him.

The Librarian remained perfectly still, and Skaldi tried to project his memory carefully. After a time, the Librarian stepped away to study the image in the snow.

‘I think you’ve rendered it perfectly. There’s something missing, though. I think it would be best if we experimented with a few different variations in the hope one will work. I’ll try and draw a smaller circle in that corner.’

The Librarian bent and drew a tightly packed, swirling circle. When he stepped away, nothing felt different. He scuffed it out, and turned to Skaldi.

‘Do you have any ideas?’

Perhaps, it’s enclosed in a square, not a circle. The Librarian drew lines over the snow. Again, nothing happened.

The afternoon wore on with them trying every conceivable way possible to make the symbol work. Every so often, they felt as though they’d made the correct adjustment, but nothing happened.

As the sun slipped from the sky, bruising the horizon in magentas so dark as to be almost black, the Librarian gave a loud exclamation. He dashed into his Library only to return moments later, clutching part of the marker he’d had the other night.

‘Look, look,’ his voice filled with excitement, ‘I knew I’d seen the symbol somewhere. It’s on here, look. It’s missing something in that bottom corner, but it’s so small a change I’m unsurprised we can’t determine what it is from the copy of it.’