The library stood at the center of Delphinad.
Its official name was Won Xiela Ter Pallader Remidiel Aenraura Esenione, meaning “the library that preserves the legacy of the great ages.” But no one used that name except at events such as the anniversary of its opening. Ordinarily, everyone from the king to foreigners simply called it the library. Of course, Delphinad was not the only place with a library. But the grandeur of Delphinad’s was more than enough to reduce every other library on the continent to the status of a private study for a hobbyist.
The library was known to have nine floors above ground and three below. Rumors abounded of another underground floor, but no one claimed to have entered it. Even as it stood, it was the tallest building on the continent. It was also the single building that received the most visitors. At eight in the morning, a staggeringly long line formed in the square outside. There were only seven clerks to examine admissions, while thousands wanted to get inside quickly and study for even one more hour. The result was a daily crush.
Those who came to line up in the morning were short-term students hoping to save even a day’s inn fees in expensive Delphinad. Residents of the city ate lunch at their leisure and came around three, when there was scarcely a line. They read for a couple of hours, then left. The library closed at eight in the evening, but by six, dinner had become more important than reading. Once all the readers were sent out and the massive iron gates were lowered, no one could pass in or out until morning.
With nearly two years’ experience of Delphinad, Gene stood before the library at half past three in the afternoon. Only ten people were ahead of him. Taking his place behind them, he shrugged unnecessarily, then turned to Rosa.
“Well? I told you there was no need to hurry.”
“There are advantages to following a local around.”
Unlike on the day she first arrived, Rosa answered rather absently, busy looking at the open square and the library. A smile appeared at the corners of Gene’s mouth. Then he shook his head.
“I’m not from Delphinad either. In truth, I’m in much the same position as you.”
“In what way?”
“That thing you put in your pocket earlier.”
Instead of searching her pocket and taking out “that thing,” Rosa said, “You haven’t just cooked for yourself once or twice.”
“So you don’t like it?”
“No. I dislike being an object of curiosity.”
“You’re one now. Just look at those clothes.”
Still expressionless, Rosa merely wrinkled her nose. Today she wore a light cotton shirt appropriate to the season, blue trousers that showed her ankles, and sandals. In other words, she was still dressed like a man. Even that was an outfit she had reluctantly gone out to buy this morning after listening to Gene’s advice. It was better than a hooded cloak, trousers patched with leather, and worn-out boots, but she would have attracted far less attention in women’s clothes.
It was not that Rosa did not understand that dressing ordinarily made it easier to avoid suspicion. But the only women’s clothes in the shop she had happened to enter that day were brightly patterned, lacy, or tightly fitted at the waist with deeply cut necklines. When Rosa chose the clothes she now wore and returned, Gene had spent some time with his head bowed, trying not to laugh.
“Women’s clothes were too expensive.”
“So you bought yourself an apprentice sailor’s outfit. Let’s see whether the clerks take you for a young lady fresh off a ship a day or two ago.”
With her hair neatly pinned up, she did indeed look the part. But perhaps that felt even more awkward. Rosa kept smoothing her fringe back.
By the time Gene’s turn came, another dozen people stood behind them. Making a chand with his hand to wish Rosa luck, he entered the third admission office. There were seven admission offices, and even people arriving together had to enter one at a time.
The clerk flinched when Gene stepped inside. He knew Gene’s face. He could scarcely have failed to: he and Gene met at least once every five days.
“Here again.”
Even a familiar face had to follow procedure. As usual, Gene first surrendered his weapon. Since he carried no particular attachment to his sword, he calmly unbuckled the whole belt and handed it over. The clerk accepted it with a tense expression. Despite more than half a year of seeing him, he apparently could not shake the feeling that Gene might suddenly change, draw the sword, and cut off his head.
From the perspective of a Delphinad official, it was difficult to believe that the patrol captain of a criminal organization came to the library to read. There must be some other reason. They simply did not yet know what it was.
Next, Gene showed his residence permit. The clerk turned a page of the thick visitors’ register and pushed it toward him. Gene took up the pen and wrote his name. His handwriting flowed like a professional copyist’s, and even the clerk admired that much. In truth, no one who had not written often could possess handwriting like that. But the clerk, trapped by his prejudice, did not take his thoughts that far. Finally, Gene snatched up the ivory admission token the clerk offered and lightly raised one hand.
“See you again.”
“…Until then.”
Leaving the clerk behind, Gene went through the inner entrance. A corridor appeared, turning three times. He waited for Rosa at the first corner. She would not mind if he went in ahead of her, and there was no particular reason to wait, but today it seemed worth doing.
Rosa was about to see the library for the first time. That was a special experience for anyone. Wherever in the world they had come from and whatever they had been doing, young or old, scholars who had pictured the library in their dreams for years or merchants looking for stories to use on returning home, everyone stopped breathing for a moment after the corridor’s third turn. Their words stopped, and their feet stopped too. Of course, Gene had been no different. The moment had stayed with him for a long time. For Rosa too, this would be an experience that came once in a lifetime. Somehow, he regretted missing the chance to share it.
Rosa appeared in the distance. Her familiar rigid expression was just as he had expected. Seeing her often, he was beginning to read even a face like that. “Why is he waiting? Is something wrong?”
To ease her doubt as well, Gene smiled and asked, “How was it?”
“They even gave Miss Rosa Evenly, an apprentice sailor just disembarked from the Feather of Mea, a notepad as a gift.”
Rosa took out a piece of parchment. Instructions for using the library were written on the back. It meant her new residence permit had worked perfectly. Made this morning at Lasne’s shop, it was a forgery whose ink was scarcely dry. An ivory token dangled below the parchment. Gene lightly took it from her, folded it twice, and slipped it into his own pocket. Then he held out an open hand.
“Shall we go, Miss Evenly?”
They entered the corridor. A corridor, though in truth it was more like a narrow cave cut through a high, thick rampart. It was dark inside. There were only a few small ceiling openings for windows, far overhead. Lamps hung here and there, but they too were too high to reach. Perhaps the flames were kept far away as a precaution against fire.
Looking up at the lamps, Rosa noticed lettering carved in a continuous line halfway up the wall. Closer inspection showed it to be names. There was no explanation of who they were. Famous people who had studied at the library? Librarians? Or people who had made donations?
To Rosa, the library entrance resembled a fortress. She had heard that wars had engulfed the library several times in the past, and that an entrance built like this had been a great help. The castle in her hometown had a similar structure. As she walked, she suddenly felt as though she had returned home.
Walking a little apart, Gene watched Rosa look this way and that along the corridor. Passing through often, he had long ago lost interest in the sight, but even a passageway seemed to fascinate her. Blunt and cold as she had been, at this moment Rosa looked no different from a child who had discovered a marvelous toy. Watching her, he could not stop smiling.
The corridor ended, and an open indoor plaza appeared: Saltami Hall. Sunlight poured through hundreds of colored windows stacked vertically. Gene stopped. Rosa stood beside him.
Three circles were drawn on the floor beneath them. They meant that the library served three masters: the queen, scholars, and books. The library’s students called those circles the “audience chamber” and often used them as a meeting place. Partly that was because Saltami Hall bore the name of an ancient queen, but in truth the name came closer to the sense of having an audience with the library itself.
From the audience chamber, one could take in tens of thousands of glazed tiles, more than a hundred white pillars, a central staircase thirty-four cubits wide, and behind it, twenty-five spiral staircases rising like hidden little whirlpools. People of every manner of dress and race trod a floor depicting the cosmos. No one entering the library for the first time was said to remain unmoved in this spot. Some shed tears of emotion. Some prostrated themselves in thankful prayer. Sometimes a person, overwhelmed, even suffered a heart attack. Here, Gene took a deep breath.
Not because he had been moved afresh after coming for half a year. The library’s overwhelming grandeur, which stirred so many others, no longer brought him either joy or beauty. Nor had he simply become indifferent. More precisely, knowing what it really meant had made him unable to see beauty alone.
Someone who had come today merely to look around the library before returning home would find enough to talk about until death even in a half-hour visit. Because that person had never had the chance to understand what the splendor they saw truly meant, they might preserve an impression that remained unspoiled. Gene could no longer do that. Just as someone marveling at the sea for the first time and someone swimming across it could not feel the same.
What about Rosa?
Turning to her, Gene was a little surprised. He had expected her to pretend to be as calm as ever. Instead, Rosa had bowed her head and covered her face with both hands. He could see her slender neck trembling and her pulse beating. Gene hesitated over whether to speak, then finally asked, “Are you crying?”
Rosa raised her head. Her eyes were red, but there were no tear tracks. With those eyes, she turned sharply toward him and asked, “Why? Am I not allowed to cry?”
“There’s no reason you can’t, but why are you? Are you moved?”
“Do I have to explain that? Why are you asking me something like that?”
Her eyes looked like those of a sulking wildcat. Gene smiled wryly.
“I was only teasing. It took you a whole year to get here. Of course you could be moved. Have I spoiled the mood and made you angry?”
Without answering, Rosa turned her head away sharply. Then she closed her eyes again and murmured, “Nebe, thank you.”
As Rosa began walking, Gene followed and asked, “What god is Nebe? I’ve never heard of it.”
“A god worshipped in remote northern mountain villages. No one here would believe. There’d be no use.”
“What does that god rule over?”
“Winter.”
“There’s winter here too.”
Rosa glanced at Gene and snorted.
“It’s an entirely different winter.”
They went up the stairs. Gene had business on the third floor, Rosa on the fourth. At the second-floor landing, Gene spoke.
“Then go to the Pantheon tomorrow. They say every god on the continent is there, so there’s probably a statue of Nebe too.”
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