“Hennea’s already been through that shelf,” murmured Lehr. “It might be best if you moved over one bookcase. We’re setting aside any books that are about the Travelers, and there’s a big pile here for books written in languages we can’t read.”

“Thanks,” she said, touching his shoulder. Instead of sorting through a bookcase, she sat on the floor and began going through the pile of books until she came to some she could translate.

To someone who was used to having the mermori libraries at her fingertips, this library was disappointing. Illusionary books were almost as useful as the real thing, and you didn’t have to worry about tearing pages. The Colossae wizards had been wealthy and, being—by all accounts—solsenti-style wizards, they had spent their wealth in books. Even Isolde’s library dwarfed this one—and Isolde had been one of the lesser wizards.

Seraph paged through a book about the Travelers by someone who claimed to have lived with them for a year. It was full of unlikely events and bits of nonsense that led Seraph to believe that if the author had ever met a Traveler, it was no more than a momentary encounter that allowed him to describe the clothing. There was nothing else factual that she could find.

Hennea came back into the library while Seraph was still paging through the first book.

“Have you decided what we’re looking for?” Seraph asked Hennea, as if the conversation in the hall had not happened.

Hennea, having drawn her usual cloak of equanimity back in place, said, “The books about Travelers I think we should take with us so we can take more time to evaluate them. The books of wizardry that have nothing to do with us—I don’t know. Most of what is in them is not very useful for us. It seems wrong simply to destroy them, but they are too dangerous to fall into just anyone’s hands. There might be some correspondence—though he burned most of his letters after he read them. Keep your eyes open to anything that might point to the identity of the Shadowed.”

“What if we don’t find anything about the Shadowed here?” asked Lehr.

“We’ll find him sooner or later if he doesn’t find us,” said Seraph. “A Shadowed lives by the deaths of others. Where he walks, the dead litter the ground. He can’t hide forever, not once we are aware that there is a Shadowed once more.”

“If the wizard books belonged to the Secret Path,” said Rinnie, changing the subject for one she could comment on, “and the Secret Path people were all traitors, don’t the books belong to the Emperor?”

Seraph had a brief moment of trying to imagine the logistics of getting a shipment of books of wizardry to the Emperor—who would have no more use for them than they did.

“Maybe your father will have a good idea,” she said. “And, just in case Hennea hasn’t already given you the lecture, if you find something that feels wrong, let Hennea or me look at it before you open it.”

Lehr joined in the search through the books, but Jes, after picking up and setting down a few, paced back and forth restlessly. He could read, Tier had seen to that, but it held no interest for him.

“Go ahead and explore,” Seraph told him.

“Can I go explore, too?” asked Rinnie, putting up the book she’d been looking through.

Seraph shook her head. “No. I want you here with me.”

Jes, who’d paused to hear Seraph’s answer, waved at everyone and left.

Rinnie’s jaw set, much as her brother’s had a short while ago. “I wish I were a Guardian, or a Raven or a Hunter. Being a Cormorant is boring.”

Seraph had no patience for any more drama. “Rinnie, you are too old to pout. Stop it.”

“I don’t want to look through boring old books.”

Seraph sucked in her breath, but Lehr spoke first. “Why don’t you look in the cabinets and the stuff on the other side of the room. There might be something interesting there.”

Rinnie let out a martyred sigh, but crossed the room anyway and began to open cabinet doors. Seraph went back to searching through books, though she kept an eye on Rinnie’s progress. She wasn’t really worried, only cautious. She and Hennea had already gone through the temple to make certain there was nothing harmful.

Of course, the Shadowed had come back and set a summoning rune since then.

“Be careful, Rinnie,” she said.

“There’s nothing to be careful of, Mother.” Rinnie sounded disgusted. “There’s nothing here. Wait.” She stuck her head farther into a cabinet and came out wearing dust and holding a leather satchel in her arms. “This is magicked!”

“Drop it, now!” Seraph let the book she’d been holding fall to the ground and hurried to Rinnie’s side. “Being careful means don’t touch, Rinnie.”

“It’s not very magicked,” Rinnie muttered, but she dropped the satchel on the floor.

Seraph knelt beside Rinnie’s find and waved a hand over it. The patterns of the spell were familiar with a few variations because whoever set the spell had been a wizard, not a Raven. “A preservation spell. You’re right, Rinnie, there’s no harm in this. Go ahead and open it and let us see what is inside.” She handed the satchel back.

Rinnie tugged open the buckles and looked—keeping the cover flap up so that Lehr, who had come over when she’d first announced her discovery, couldn’t see inside. “Scrolls,” she said.

She took one out and unrolled it.

“It’s a map.” Lehr looked over Rinnie’s shoulder. “I can’t read any of the place names, though. Can you, Mother?” He moved out of the way so Seraph could take his place.

Seraph shook her head. “Although something about the language looks familiar. Do you recognize it, Hennea?”

Hennea set aside an oversized, red-covered book on the “solsenti wizard books” pile, and came over to have a look.

Her first, casual appraisal lasted only a second. Then she knelt on the ground and began tracing the markings with a fingertip.

“I can read it,” she said in an odd voice.

Like Seraph, she took a moment to feel the shape of the spell on the satchel. Then she upended the whole thing so that eight rolls fell out, ignoring Rinnie’s involuntary protest at her usurpation of Rinnie’s possession of the satchel.

The map she unrolled first was a map of a city. “Merchant’s District,” she said, her voice shaking as her fingers ran over the spidery ink. “Artisan’s District. Old Town. High Town. Merchant’s Gate. Low Gate. University Gate.”

Seraph stared at the upside-down map. She trying to place it in one of the cities she’d been in before. “University? There are only three universities in the Empire, but the layout doesn’t fit any of those.”

Hennea turned the map around and tapped the large writing on the bottom of the sheet. “Can you read that?”

Seraph frowned. The larger letters looked very familiar, she decided. It was the style of writing that was throwing her. She used her finger to trace the thicker lines of the letters. “This first letter’s a C and the second…” She let her voice trail off as the pattern became clear to her.

“What is it?” asked Lehr.

Seraph touched the map with her fingers again. “Colossae.” Awe filled her. “When this map was drawn, Colossae was a thriving city—before the birth of the Empire, before the Shadowed had ruled, before the first Travelers’ feet touched a road—this map was drawn.”

“It could be a copy.” Lehr’s voice was subdued, hushed.

“Maybe.” Hennea’s hand brushed it again. “Or it could be a fake—there’s no way to tell.”

“I might be able to tell,” said Seraph slowly.

“How?” asked Hennea.

“I’m going to read its past.” She reached out to touch it, but Hennea jerked it away.

“If it is that old, it is too dangerous.”

“Dangerous how?” asked Lehr.

Seraph gave an exasperated huff. “It’s a map, Hennea. I’ll be lucky if anyone has held it long enough to leave any kind of impression at all. Can you read objects?”