“Thank you, Bastien. This won’t be forgotten. I’ll take this, if I may.” She gathered up the book. She wanted time to read through it in its entirety for context. She also wanted to keep the original on hand so that it couldn’t be used against her. If she was going to dig even deeper into religiosity, she needed to keep her guard up.
In the future, perhaps she could change Balladairan perceptions of magic and gods. In the future, perhaps she would even be able to use magic.
That thought made her stomach churn a little. Too far, too fast. Small steps first.
She glanced at Touraine, whose mouth was tight, as if she already knew what was coming. No matter what the rebels said, Luca was going to the Second City. She would learn about magic without the rebels’ help.
There were moments that defined empires, that determined how a reign would be remembered. Luca would look back on this day, years later, and know that this was one such moment.
A thousand years ago, the First Library, the Scorpion Library, had been built to stand. Built to protect. In fact, saying it had been built was almost a lie. It had been carved out of three massive rocks that overlooked the river. For years, careful masons carved shelves out of the stones, creating a shelter that would stay dark and dry in the hot and humid climate. They were large enough to store all the world’s known knowledge, even as the world grew and grew.
It was not so hard to imagine Brigāni scholars recording what they knew of Balladaire hundreds of years ago.
Luca stood on a precipice. When she crossed the river, she would become one of the first Balladairans to enter the Scorpion Library since the city had been abandoned. Since before the mad Emperor Djaya had gone on her rampage in Balladaire. Luca could hardly imagine what else she would find.
She could barely let herself think about what she really sought.
The river stretched perhaps over a mile wide at this point, and in the distance, the massive stones of the Second City rose like teeth, biting the stars out of the sky. The River Hadd was magnificent enough to create the border for two nations, once part of a single empire. It was the largest river in the world—thus far—and reduced to nothing but a thumb-wide line on her maps. It was easy to forget how it dwarfed so much of her human world, especially when the docks were so far from the city proper and even farther from the Quartier and the compound that she rarely saw it.
Gil hovered close behind her, jaw tight and eyes sharp. Like Touraine, he did not approve of the venture.
The boat they approached was a narrow thing with a small, furled sail and a pair of paddles. A recent payment to the crown by a merchant whose taxes, Luca found, came up short in Cheminade’s finance records. After double-checking against the financial officer’s records, Luca had issued a polite invitation. Now she had a boat and a few strong-backed Qazāli to convey her across the Hadd.
Lanquette brought up their rear, and Guérin approached the boatmen, her shoulders broad and straight, exuding that no-nonsense confidence she had. It helped, surely, that she was taller than all the boatmen.
At Luca’s other side, Touraine also stood stiff backed, if for a different reason. She had fought Luca all week to reconsider. Like Gil, she had surrendered. They had to understand. Our own birthright. If she restored Balladaire’s own magic, she would be a hero. The rebels’ offers of magic came at too steep a cost when she could find it on her own.
She grabbed Touraine’s arm. “Look at it. It’s so close,” she whispered.
Touraine didn’t flinch at her grip, but the other woman did give her a long look, her question clear: Are you sure? And that was brazen for the quiet, obedient woman.
Luca was certain.
“Come down, madame, come down.” One of the boatmen held a hand out to lead Luca onto the dock. The boat bumped gently against it, still tethered at both ends. Luca hesitated, but Guérin took her hand instead.
“Steady,” Guérin said. She left Luca’s title off for disguise’s sake. Luca had even left her cane at home so it wouldn’t be so obvious what young, three-legged Balladairan had visited the docks.
The dock sang beneath their weight, and Luca yelped in surprise. Sky above. “It’s all right. Just startled.”
“You certain, madame? The Hadd, in it, danger. We warn you.” The boatman looked skeptically between her and the water. He seemed to be the one in charge and spoke to the other men in some kind of patois that wasn’t quite Shālan. His irises had a yellowish cast in the moonlight.
“Yes, I’m sure. It was just a creak.” Luca’s face warmed with embarrassment.