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“Where would you take me?” I asked.

“My home is in Panpirion, as I believe I’ve told you. I’ll bring you there to start with.”

“And then what?”

“Whatever you like,” he said. “But if you want to come with me, decide quickly. I’m leaving Corlivo today. I’ve been summoned back to the capital.”

The fountain splashed and poured, sending water down marble spouts into the central pool. Copper and silver coins— some green with age, artifacts of a thousand wishes—covered the bottom of the basin.

“I don’t have any other options,” I said. “I have no money, no relatives.”

He stood up slowly, leaning on his cane with one hand and holding the cup with the other. “Well then, I win by default.”

I remained seated, frozen to the spot. I had no real reason to trust this strange, gruff, perhaps murderous man—yet something in his blunt, forthright manner made me think he was sincere. At the very least, our interests were aligned: he wanted the book, and I desperately wanted to leave the city.

The sunshine seemed to burn through the fog of grief and confusion that filled my mind. He was offering me a real chance to leave Corlivo and see something of the world. I stood up also. “I will go with you.”

“Wait for me in the entrance hall. I’ll see if Marta is awake. I look forward to this negotiation.” There was a twinkle in his blue eye. “And bring that book.”

I WAITED IN the quiet front hall. Noise from the floors above indicated that at least some people were awake and preparing for the day.

After a few minutes, Don entered through the front door, dressed for travel in a heavy brown cloak. “Good morning. It sounds like you’re coming with us. Let me take that for you.” He held out a huge hand for my bag.

I felt a sudden reluctance to part with it. “That’s all right. I’ll keep it. Where is His Grace?”

He nodded toward the corridor. “Still in with your matron.”

“Do you think I will really be leaving with you?”

Don leaned his large frame against the wall. “Seb seems set on it, and he typically gets his way.”

AND SO HE did.

We rode along the steep lane from Casa Caligine down into Corlivo. I pressed my forehead against the shutters of the carriage and watched through the slits. We wound through the streets, passing the market square with its warren of stalls, still closed tight; the narrow basalt houses of merchants and tradesmen; the summer gardens; a street of quiet cafés. The horses clipped along. After a while we were through the city gates, wending our way down into the valley.

“I have never been outside the city before,” I said, almost to myself.

Sebastianus leaned back against the cushion with his stick across his lap. A small silver flask lay by his side. He appeared lost in thought. Who was he, really? Unpredictable, dangerous, dishonest? I thought of all the warnings I had been given. Everything had happened so quickly.

“I have a hundred questions,” I said.

“Save them for later.”

We rode in silence. The rocky slopes gradually leveled out. Shrubs and tall waving grasses flew by. How strange to be down among these things, rather than surveying them all from high above.

“Show me the book,” Sebastianus said abruptly.

I dug it from my satchel and passed it over.

He opened the front cover and pulled out the letter. He read it over slowly, first the front and then the back, lingering over the signature. He laughed softly to himself, put the letter back, and flipped through the pages of the book. Finally, he closed the volume and rested it on his lap.

“This is an incredible discovery,” he said.

“Tell me what you mean, please.”

He tugged on the diamond stud in his earlobe for a moment, seeming to gather his thoughts. “While I’d always hoped that books were hidden away somewhere in Casa Caligine, I never thought there would be something as precious as this within its walls. I’m not sure it’s occurred to anyone else, either.”

I nodded. “Literature is hardly on the mind of most of the guests.”