Alden sat at a small table, Bob beside him. It turned out that another room was connected to the entrance. This one, thankfully, was less crowded. It was small—small enough that it hovered on the border between room and closet—but big enough for his needs. A small table sat in the middle, plush seats surrounding it. Alden shifted slightly, twirling the feather in his hand. His eyes stared at the blank papyrus before him, even as his mind raced. Bob clucked, and Alden’s eyes darted up as a smile crossed his lips.


    “You’re right, you’re right—I always do my best thinking out loud.” He turned his chair so that he was angled toward Bob. “What I’ve done so far is pored over some books. My search has been futile. There’s just too much information, and if I skim, I run the risk of missing something relevant. ‘Do it well once, and you won’t have to do it again’—that’s my motto. The problem is that it’s slow, agonizingly boring, and doesn’t help me if there’s not already a translation.”


    Alden’s feet tapped rhythmically on the stone floor as Bob shuffled. “My parents managed to translate it. Or, it led them to something in the process of translation. Since the latter is far too broad, I’m going to guess it’s the former. In which case, I need to find a translator. My contact has been putting out feelers, but I don’t expect much.”


    Alden twirled the feather again. “That brings up another point—contacts. I’ve got exactly one source of intelligence, which is a dangerous position to be in. I need to cultivate some resources, use them to find a translator, translate and follow this clue while staying undetected. The same people who have managed to suppress every trace of this civilization—and anyone who discovers it—are after me. So it should be a piece of cake.” He snorted at himself.


    “Alright, I see two major parts to this operation: decoding the information and keeping myself secret while I do so. The first I’ll pursue through my studies in the library and my informant. I’ll also talk to Frank. After all this time, I’m sure he knows a few people who can keep an ear out. If I need to build more contacts, I’ll ask him for advice. On most of them, at least.”


    Alden stood and began pacing. “The second task is far more challenging. Whoever wants this secret buried has enough political, economic, and military power to take me out. If I could spread information quickly, I could undercut them, but there’s no way to do that.” Bob clucked, and Alden paused, turning to look at him. Bob clucked again and fluttered his wings.


    Alden nodded. “Maybe. Using book mages could be a way to create a system of mass distribution. But where would I find that many book mages? Or enchantments? No, I don’t think that idea’s feasible just yet. Which means I need to hide my activities. The best way is to not draw attention to myself. But I have to consider the possibility that they have some method to track those searching for this lost people. So I need a cover—something that either obfuscates or creates a plausible backstory. Maybe something like being a traveling bard- but that has its own sort of issues.”


    Alden tapped the table, then grabbed a scrap of papyrus and jotted down a few ideas. None were perfect—but maybe that was good. A cover story too well-crafted might be suspicious in itself. “I’ll chew on them over the next few days, see if anything better comes up.” He took a deep breath. “We also need to consider what happens if we get discovered. Violence is a likely answer. In which case, we need to be prepared. I want to wait until the Olm’an’lil to start messing with you, but I’m not sure if we have time.”


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    He hesitated. “Maybe there’s a solution somewhere. I’ll work on that as well. In the meantime, you”—he fixed his attention squarely on Bob—"need to work on yourself. It hasn’t escaped my notice that you’ve been slacking.”


    Bob squawked in outrage and flared his feathers. Alden ignored him, turning back to his paper. The beginnings of the plan were unfolding in his mind, and he needed to write them down before he forgot.


    <hr>


    Alden hummed a little tune as he skipped down the hallway. It was getting late, his and Bob’s strategy session having lasted another two hours or so. The rooster was on a mission of his own, preparing for what was to come. Alden had to say, he wasn’t entirely sure how his enhancements would take to Bob, but they seemed to be melding just fine.


    He pushed through the library doors and into the main repository. He took a deep breath, savoring the crisp air, before striding forward. He moved through the labyrinth of shelves with ease after so many days navigating them.


    He turned the corner toward his usual nook—and stopped. Two men were sitting at his table.


    Alden kept one eye on them as he passed, tipping his head slightly. He could feel their gazes boring into his back as he sifted through the remaining books. He only had three more to go before he finished his current shelf. After that, just half a shelf remained. Victory was close enough to taste.


    His search had been futile so far, and he was starting to reconsider his approach. If a book mentioned these people tangentially—maybe under a different name or title—it might have been overlooked. Who would care about a single obscure reference? It was a shot in the dark, but he considered it more than worth the effort.


    Gathering the books, he strolled toward a more secluded niche. It was farther away, but well worth the walk for the solitude. He settled in and began flipping through the pages, his hands moving with well-practiced efficiency. Four days of constant work had refined his technique. His eyes flickered over the text rapidly while his right hand scribbled down anything noteworthy.


    A loud thud sounded beside him.


    Alden glanced sideways. A man had dropped into the chair next to him, settling in with an air of practiced ease. He was lithe, with brown hair and eyes. He stared at Alden.


    Alden met his gaze, held it for a moment, then turned back to his book. The man cleared his throat. Alden ignored him. He cleared his throat again. When Alden still didn’t move, the man sighed and thumped a hand onto the open book before him.


    Alden slowly lifted his gaze. “What?” The man grinned, revealing crooked teeth. “Are you Alden?” Alden shrugged. “Depends. Who’s asking?”


    The man cocked his head. “Me? We’ll get to that later. If you are Alden, though, I have a question for you.” Alden raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?” “I’ve heard you made a move on one of my men.” Alden didn’t twitch. “Not sure I catch your meaning.” The man tsked. “I think you do. If you want one of my boys to do something, you come to me, not them.”


    Alden met his eyes and shrugged. “Seemed like it would take too long. I was impatient.” The man studied him for a long moment before leaning back. “Maybe.” He stood. “Next time, you go through me.” Alden nodded once. “Got it. Anything else?” “Yes, actually.” The man’s eyes flicked toward Alden’s books. “What are you researching?”


    Alden glanced at the open page. “This? Nothing much. Just a little history project for an apprenticeship.” The man stared at him for a beat before nodding. “Fair enough. Remember—straight to me.” Alden tilted his head. “And you are?” The man’s smile didn’t falter. “You can call me Samuy.” Alden watched him disappear into the shelves.


    <hr>


    The rest of his research expedition passed uneventfully. He finished every book—only to find himself at another dead end. The suppression of information had been thorough. Still, he had one more lead.


    Grinning to himself, Alden retrieved a small scroll from its hiding place. It looked like he’d have a meeting to arrange.