26.

Ferrucci

The room we entered was like nothing I’d ever imagined. It was cavernous, with walls entirely covered in deep shelves. Stuffed onto every square inch of those shelves were scrolls and leather-bound volumes. Rolling wooden ladders put even the highest books within reach.

I’d seen a book once. It had belonged to Dalyntor and was his most prized possession. It was small and thin, hand sized—nothing like these heavy tomes—and made of bark and pressed leaves. His great-grandmother had made it for him, filling it with ancient poems she’d carefully transcribed. Like many dairnes before her, she’d used a raptidon’s talon for a writing implement and clairberry nectar for ink.

The words in that book, small enough for Dalyntor to keep in his pouch, might fill just a page or two of the enormous volume lying open on the wooden desk in the center of the room.

How much knowledge was contained in all these books and scrolls? It seemed to me that every fact in the world must be here within reach. Was there a question that couldn’t be answered? A problem that couldn’t be solved?

For a moment, I forgot my circumstances, forgot, even, my companions. Still on all fours, I headed toward the nearest bookshelf, fascinated by the scents of ink and paper, dust and leather.

“Ferru!” Khara exclaimed, and I stopped in my tracks. I turned to see her embracing an old man in a long gold robe inscribed in black with writings, runes and glyphs. He had cloudy green eyes and pale, papery skin. His long white beard fell in stiff waves, like a frozen waterfall.

“It has been far too long, Khara,” Ferrucci said. “Have you come to witness the eumony? It will be quite the event. The Murdano’s Seer, Araktik, is coming to officiate!”

Khara dropped her hands and said, her voice suddenly serious, “Well, I may be disrupting that ceremony a bit.” She jutted her chin in my direction. “As you can see.”

“My eyesight is not what it used to be,” Ferrucci said with a sigh. “What is it you’re referring to, my dear?”

“Byx,” Khara said, “come closer.”

I walked over, slowly, deliberately, on all fours.

“Well, what have we here?” Ferrucci asked.

Khara drew a deep breath. “Ferrucci, meet Byx.”

“Your dog? Well . . . good boy. Good doggie.”

I stood up on my hind legs and said, “I am honored to meet you, but I am not a dog.”

Ferrucci gaped at me, speechless.

Luca dashed over, grabbing his teacher by the arm, as if he might topple over at any moment.

“I don’t . . . ,” Ferrucci said, peering at me through his cloudy eyes. “It’s not . . .”

“It is, Gharri,” Luca said, his eyes wide. “It’s a dairne.” He reached out a hand to touch my shoulder, and I instantly recoiled. “The fur, the pouch, the erect stance.” Luca leaned close to examine my right hand. “The fingers, almost human!” He pulled back, head tilted, a strange, knowing smile blooming. “Under the forearms, there! A hint of the glissaires. Less visible than I’d imagined.”

Slowly Ferrucci shook his head from side to side. “No, no, no,” he said. He shot a stunned look at Luca, then Khara. “No, this is not possible!”

“But . . .” Khara frowned. “But it is possible, as you can see. Dairnes are not extinct, at least not yet.”

I felt like an insect, trapped beneath the intent gazes of both scholar and student. I stepped back a few paces, and Tobble stood resolutely beside me.

“I brought Byx here,” Khara said, “because I felt certain you would know what to do with a dairne. She masqueraded as a dog during our journey. You can imagine how worried I was that she’d be recognized for what she is.”

“Of course,” said Luca. “Far too many in Nedarra would pay any price for the last dairne. You were wise to come to Gharri Ferrucci.”

Ferrucci blinked several times, as if he were waking from a nightmare. “Luca,” he said urgently. “Lock the door immediately.”

“Yes, Gharri.”

“The rest of you, come with me, quickly!” Ferrucci snapped. “And you,” he said to me, “on all fours, now!”

He practically ran from the library—impressive for a man his age—and waved us into a side room, also stuffed with scrolls and books. We crowded in, Khara and Tobble and I sharing questioning looks.

“Luca!” Ferrucci shouted. “Get your lazy rear end in here!”

Luca joined us, a thin layer of perspiration on his brow. “The door is locked.”

“Then lock this one as well,” said Ferrucci impatiently.

“Ferru,” said Khara, and I could hear her forcing calm into her tone, “why the panic? I thought the Academy would be the one place we could relax. Do you not trust your fellow scholars?”

“For every true scholar here, there are ten of the Murdano’s men, pretending to be students,” Luca said under his breath.

“My assistant speaks the truth,” said Ferrucci. He twirled an arthritic finger through his beard, lost in thought. “The Academy is not . . . what it used to be.”

“Then if it’s not safe here, we must get Byx to a location where she can be sheltered,” said Khara. “Perhaps in the north country. You must know any number of people who could provide a safe place.”

Ferrucci waved an indifferent hand at Khara. “There’s no safe place for an endling dairne.”

“But you have to help Byx!” Tobble cried.

“Quiet, rodent, or I’ll have you for lunch,” Ferrucci said. He turned to face Luca. “Luca, take this dog—and yes, it is a dog, whatever you may hear—to the cells.”

“Wait.” Khara’s eyes went wide. “What?”

“Cells?” Tobble squeaked.

“Never fear,” Ferrucci said. “You will be rewarded, Khara. Handsomely rewarded.”

“But why must Byx to be taken to the dungeon?” Khara demanded.

Dungeon. The word alone was terrifying.

I’d never seen one, but I knew, from Dalyntor’s lessons, its purpose. Panic swept through me, hot, then cold. I could not seem to find enough air.

“I’ve committed no crime,” I cried.

Ferrucci ignored us. “Luca, note this well: this conversation never took place.”

“Yes, Gharri,” said Luca. He unlocked a second door at the back of the little room. “Byx, come with me.”

“I don’t understand,” Khara said, desperation creeping into her voice. “Please, Ferru, explain.”

The old man patted her hand. “Trust me, my dear. I’m doing what’s best. This is the only way.”

“Byx,” Luca said again. “Please follow me.”

“I’m going too!” said Tobble.

“Impossible,” said Ferrucci. “You’ll stay here. With Khara.”

“Patience, Tobble,” Khara said. She exhaled slowly, sizing up the situation. “Byx, we have no choice but to trust Ferru.”

From trust to dust.

I looked from Khara to Tobble and back again.

Would this be the last time I saw them?

I hugged Tobble briefly. “Be strong,” I said, although my own voice was trembling.

“No, Byx—” he whimpered.

To Khara, I said nothing. What was there to say?

She gave me a bleak smile.

Ferrucci beckoned Luca close and whispered something in his ear. I caught some of the words, but unfortunately, they were in an unfamiliar language, probably Nedarran.

Once again on all fours, I followed Luca down a dank hallway. Behind me, the sound of Tobble’s sobs and Khara’s questions echoed softly against the black walls.