Author: Jodi Meadows

“Perhaps philosophy and guesswork aren’t where you should be looking.” Sine eyed my book. “I never thought Deborl’s views were all that astute, anyway.”

I checked the cover of the book. Sure enough, Deborl, a Councilor who looked younger than me, had written it over sixty quindecs ago. Astute or not, these views were almost a thousand years old. I closed the book and slid it toward the middle of the table. “Maybe you’re right. I thought the answers were in the distant past, but I could be wrong.”

She slipped a marker into her book and nodded for me to continue.

Thoughts collated as I gazed around the dim library. “I know Li reasonably well.” Better than I wanted. “She’s a warrior. When I misbehaved as a child, she told me about the times she killed dragons. Before lasers and air drones were invented.” Having seen dragons recently, I could finally appreciate what a feat that was.

“Li has always been formidable.”

No doubt. “What about Menehem?”

“Not quite as formidable.” She stood, using the table to brace herself. “A brilliant chemist. I didn’t know him well, partially because we could never comprehend a word the other said.” She chuckled. I couldn’t tell if she was serious or not.

I followed her around a maze of shelves on the main floor. Mahogany and glass shimmered in the lamplight, and the room smelled of wood polish and pronghorn leather. “A warrior and a scientist. I don’t understand how you get me out of that.”

“Because you love music?”

I opted not to argue about a nosoul’s capacity for love. This time.

“Some things are inherited, certainly. Physical features. You look a lot like Menehem when I saw him last, actually, with the auburn hair and freckles. You show your mother’s fierceness and your father’s intelligence, but some things, like music and poetry, are passions of the soul.”

I liked that. Sam had been born to farmers and woodworkers and glassblowers. Armande, his current father, was a baker. While Sam had learned hundreds of things out of curiosity and desire to help the community, he always came back to music.

Perhaps, if I was going to be reincarnated at the end of this life, I’d find myself similarly drawn, because there was music in my head, which sang me to sleep at night. It wasn’t Sam’s music or anyone else’s. That probably made it mine. What a frightening thought.

“We’re looking for Menehem’s diaries?” I asked as we came to that area of the library.

Sine swept her hand across the nook created by bookcases. “Since I cannot tell you about him, we might as well read Menehem’s words. It’s unfortunate he left Range so shortly after you were born.”

Yeah, unfortunate he was so ashamed he couldn’t even stay to help Li, who didn’t want to care for me either.

I touched a lamp, illuminating the alcove. Two thousand books waited in their shelves while I searched the spines for the name of the parent who’d abandoned me.

While there were a few older volumes still in place, the newer ones, the ones I’d have needed, were missing. His diaries had abandoned me, too.

I swore, drawing a look from Sine. “Sorry,” I said. “Would he have taken his books when he left?”

She scowled at the empty shelves. “It’s very unlikely. Books are heavy, and he had a lot of them.”

“And there are other copies.” Sam had shown me how to find digital copies. Well, he’d asked Whit to show me. “Will you do me a favor while I check the digital archives?”

Sine nodded.

“Look for Li’s diaries. I don’t need to read any—not right now, anyway—but I’m wondering if they’re still there.”

She gave me a queer look, but nodded again and headed deeper into the diaries section while I made my way out. If she hadn’t guessed my suspicions already, it wouldn’t take long.

I didn’t mind her knowing, either, but it felt weird to tell a Councilor I thought someone—maybe one of her friends—was trying to keep me from investigating my origins by removing the books I needed. Other than Sam, the only people who knew about my quest were on the Council.

The digital archives could be accessed in consoles upstairs, toward the alcove where Sam and I had watched videos. On my way up, I tapped on lamps and made a mental list of who might have taken Menehem’s diaries.

Well, anyone could have taken them, but it was the Council I didn’t trust. Most of them were against me. Antha, Frase, and Deborl didn’t seem to despise me, but I doubted they cared whether I lived or died.

Sine was on my side. I’d liked her even before I found out she’d been Sam’s mother in their previous lives. She’d died during childbirth, and was reincarnated when he was three. As a result, he’d spent his teenage years being mothered by a girl younger than him. Then she’d outlived him, and when he was reborn into this body, she was old enough to be his grandmother. I found it endlessly amusing and confusing.

As for Meuric, I couldn’t tell. He was always pleasant, but he made me uncomfortable. He watched me all the time, and always waited to hear what others thought or wanted before deciding what to do with me, like his own ideas wouldn’t be approved.

That left half the Council I didn’t know well enough, and therefore couldn’t trust. Any of them might be the one sabotaging my efforts—if there was any sabotaging after all.

I sat at the first data console and pressed the power button. When it gave a soft whir and a cursor blinked at me, I typed “Menehem.”

Hundreds of diaries appeared, most marked as lab notes and other scientific things. Perhaps, during some of all that free time Sam had scheduled for me, I’d have a peek at those. For now, I narrowed the search to more personal things.

I half expected the console to refuse access, but it offered diaries up until a few years before I was born, which had been the 330th Year of Songs. That put his latest in the 329th Year of Stars. He’d probably finished it and left it for archiving, and taken his current diary with him.

Still, this could be useful.

I read until the stairs creaked and Sine sat next to me. “Find anything?”

“Nothing quite like reading about how your parents barely cared whether the other existed.” I forced a smile. “The Council gave them permission to have a child, so they started planning it. Apparently Menehem calculated everything, because this was years before I was born.”

Sine snorted. “Yes, that sounds like him.”

“Anyway, he seemed more interested in a project for work, but there aren’t any details. I may have to look into his science journals.” I shrugged and tried to pretend I hadn’t expected anything more. “What about you?”

“Many of Li’s personal journals are gone, but if you found Menehem’s on the console, you’ll probably find hers as well.”

I sat back in my chair, arms crossed. If someone had been trying to keep me from looking into my origins, they’d have been more thorough. But if someone wasn’t trying to stop me, they were researching me.

That was an unsettling thought. Everyone else already knew more about me than I did.

“Goodness, it’s late.” Sine slyly checked the time. “I’d better head out.”

I managed something resembling a laugh. “Sam could use some lessons in subtlety from you.”

“Oh, I know. Don’t you think I’ve tried? Unfortunately, I think I’m too subtle about it.” She winked and grinned. “We can resume this research tomorrow, if you like. It’s a new direction from endless philosophy.”

“I agree. Thanks.” I switched off the electronics as we headed downstairs. Before I lost my nerve, I said, “Let’s say I have a friend who hasn’t been sleeping well.”

Sine hmmed. “I’ll pretend I don’t know you’re talking about Sam. Go on.”

“I’m worried about him. The only times he seems like himself are during music lessons and practice. He groans in his sleep half the night.” Once I’d gotten up to check on him, but as soon as I stopped by his door, the light flicked on and he shuffled into the washroom. I’d waited, but he didn’t emerge.

At least he’d stopped sneaking out every night, but I suspected it had more to do with how wretched he felt, and not . . . why he’d been sneaking to begin with.

Sine cocked her head as we stepped outside to the library. “And you want to know how to fix it?”

“I want to”—I wrapped my scarf around my neck and frowned into the darkness—“do something. Help him. He helped me.”

Her smile turned wistful. “He’ll sort it out eventually. Focus on your studies. He wouldn’t want you so distracted, especially with your first progress report coming up next week.”

Progress reports were the last thing I wanted to worry about. “What happened to him? Something with dragons?”

“Ana, if you don’t want to ask him, check his diaries. See how they end.” Her tone stayed flat, as much of a warning as I’d get from her. She always tried to be nice, but I’d upset her now.

I twisted my flashlight until a beam shot out, illuminating cobblestones as the library door shut. “I’m going to help him. Somehow. Anyone who thinks a progress report is more important can lick the bottom of my shoe. After my turn cleaning the pig runs.”

Sine made a face. “You’re learning that from Stef, aren’t you?”

“I’ve gone along with the Council’s demands.” My breath misted on the chill air. “I like learning things. I probably would have asked, regardless of the Council’s instructions. But I’m just one nosoul. The only one. What does it matter to you if I know the best time for growing rice? What is the Council so afraid I’ll do if you don’t keep me busy?”

She just stared at me, wrapped in the armor of her coat and hood. “Curfew. Better hurry.”

Blinking away tears of frustration, which threatened to freeze on my eyelashes, I spun toward South Avenue and walked as quickly as I could. There was a shorter way Sam sometimes took us, but it involved more turns on unfamiliar roads, by unfamiliar houses.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been so harsh to Sine, but now that I considered my own words, it was a good question. Were they afraid of me?

I tried to imagine what Sam would say, were he in a mood to talk. The people of Heart had been . . . how they were . . . for five thousand years. They knew one another, and could more or less predict what everyone would do in certain situations. But I was a new thing. Unknown. I’d been tucked away for eighteen years, and they hadn’t had to think about me, but now I was back, filled up with my own thoughts and opinions.

What would I do?

Right now, I just wanted to help Sam. And, come masquerade day, I wanted to be invisible. Just a few hours of no one knowing me, judging me, and waiting to see if I would destroy everything.

I counted roads until I found the one that led to Sam’s. The flashlight illuminated nothing unusual, just my breath on the air and a few flakes of snow swirling on the breeze. I shivered as trees rustled, as though preparing themselves for blankets.

My new shoes tapped on the cobblestones in a steady one-two. A three-four came from behind me, muffled with attempts at stealth, but with the whole city hushed and waiting for snow, every sound mattered.

Perhaps it was nothing, just someone else going home late, but when I glanced over my shoulder, I couldn’t see anything, not even a shadow. Darkness thickened, as complete as the should-be silence. If I turned my flashlight behind me, they’d know I was aware I wasn’t alone.

I almost did it, ready to yell for whoever to stop sneaking behind me, but then I remembered Li at the market, and dread crept inside me with the cold. Choosing the cowardly route, I walked faster, bringing my scarf over my face so the chill didn’t dry my throat.