Free undying legion 01 - unbound man by matt karlov Page A

be delighted, I am sure.”
    Yeah, I’m sure. With luck, Arandras’s visit would be gone from the big man’s memory by the time Yevin got back. He returned to Yevin’s shop, frowning at the stout shutters. A week, then. Frustrating, to be forced to wait; but also an opportunity. He turned away, leaving the shop behind and taking the stairs that led to the hill’s summit.
    He emerged at the edge of a sweeping plaza paved in sandstone and granite. An elaborate fountain commanded the square, its central spout of water reaching high into the air. Small patches of lawn dotted the area around the fountain, some bright beneath the sun, others shaded by gently swaying maples. The main Library building stood on the other side, high and red, its wings extending nearly the entire width of the square. Glimpses of other structures could be seen further back, all worked in the same fiery sandstone. The old palace, Arandras knew, lay somewhere at the back of the cluster of buildings, crowded in by structures that had once served the considerable demands of the royal household but which now belonged to the city of Spyridon and its ever-expanding Library.
    Arandras crossed the square briskly, passing through the Library’s high doors and into a narrow foyer. To the left lay the vast reading room, which formed the sum of most people’s experience of the Library — only registered scribes were permitted either to browse the shelves in person or borrow a book. A waist-high gate at the foyer’s end barred access to the stairs that led to the Library proper; beside it, a man in Library grey surveyed the room, his face impassive. Doors on the right opened to the smaller enquiry room, where men and women in grey sat at high desks built into a long wooden counter, some engaged in low conversation with a scribe or other inquirer, others waiting to be approached.
    All right, Yevin, Arandras thought, entering the enquiry room and scanning the open desks. Let’s find out what you’ve been reading.
    Most of the desks were occupied by regular library staff, but at the endmost desk he saw what he was looking for: a student of perhaps seventeen summers pushing a pair of leather-framed eyeglasses higher on her nose, the embroidered tome-and-inkpot of the Library still fresh on her grey shirt. She looked up at his approach and frowned as the eyeglasses slid back down.
    “How can I help you?” she said, adjusting her eyeglasses again and tilting her head back to keep them in place.
    “I’d like to check another scribe’s borrowing record, please,” Arandras said. “A man named Yevin Bauk.”
    “Oh.” The girl looked at him in surprise. “People really do that?”
    “On occasion.” Arandras offered her a slight smile. “If you please.”
    As Arandras understood it, the rule had been introduced by one of the later scholar-kings, as an attempt either to undermine the growing power of the scribal class or to shore up popular support by throwing open the Library to the whole city. Whatever the reason, the borrowing records of those accorded the privilege were technically public property, and could be browsed at any time by anyone admitted to the Library. In practice, the request was rarely made, and even more rarely satisfied unless the requester was himself a Library scribe.
    The girl disappeared through a door at her back, returning after only a minute or two with a handful of papers. “Here we are,” she said, resuming her seat and adjusting her eyeglasses once more. “Yevin’s most recent loan consisted of two volumes. There, you see?”
    Arandras examined the indicated section. One of the books was an untitled treatise by Tiysus Oronayan, a historian and philosopher from the time of the Second Kharjik Expansion, comparing Valdori gods and practices with those of the even earlier Yanisinian culture. The other was simply called Forms of Sorcery, with no author listed. He placed his finger on a small squiggle beside the title, marked in