Sometimes, the thing letting out a mournful cry was not necessarily a living creature one could see and touch.
It could also be a family with a long legacy.
Of course, it could also be an old recliner. Ruger was just about to rise and greet the clan leader-or perhaps the youngest family head-when the Library door was pushed open once again.
A figure of similar build, but a little taller, walked in. Even in the dim light, he could recognize her through the gaps between the shelves without looking closely. It was Varin.
Ruger had actually thought Varin might come to the Library, but he had not expected Miss Phyllis to come.
Thinking of the young family head, Ruger peered through the gaps between the books and the shelves' crossbars. Miss Phyllis was no longer anywhere near where she had stood.
Following the sound made by the old recliner, Varin approached with graceful steps.
Ruger raised his eyebrows.
"I thought you would cast a huge Light Spell, like you did on the Island, visible from far out at sea."
Varin smiled. Before she came into view, her voice drifted out from behind the shelves.
"Lighting up the space between two shelves is enough. It gives the place a sense of mystery I rather like, as though countless more shelves stretch endlessly into the darkness..."
With a smile, Ruger looked up at the little ball of light hovering just above his head.
Varin had reached him. With a wave, she took out a comfortable-looking low stool, followed by an exquisite little round table. A tea set for two was enough to crowd its small surface.
Before Varin could brew any tea, Ruger brought out his own fruit tea.
"It looks rather good," Ruger said softly, with a meaning beyond the