“What precisely do you wish to know about the covens, young lady?” The swarthy, thickly muscled balding man towered over her, dense black brows arched in thought over deep set eyes of onyx. His black tabard was embroidered in gold with the four pointed star and he clasped his long fingered hands behind his back as he stared at Alira and Therin.

“Well,” Alira swallowed, giving herself time to think. She mustn’t be too quick to give answers to this man, she knew. His authority was clear and he frightened her not a little.

“Maybe you could just pull out a few of the more popular books…” Therin said but quickly looked away and quieted when Devan’s eyes landed on him.

“Any old books. Anything…rare.” It was as close as she could come to naming the book itself and she set her jaw in annoyance at herself.

“I see,” Devan muttered quietly. His eyes gleamed, unreadable, as they swept over her. “I’ll show you what I have available to the civilian public.” Alira’s eyebrows knit in confusion at his qualification.

“You’re not part of the church. Surely you do not expect to be able to just peruse all of our collection unhindered?” Devan smirked.

“Of course, no.” She lowered her eyes and felt Therin fidgeting beside her, his hands behind him as he stood at ease. “If you’d be so kind. Thank you.”

“Follow me,” Devan commanded as he swept from his small private office.

They brushed past a huge hammer laying against the wall by the door, the haft as long as her leg, the head of the giant mace twice the size of her head. A thick golden chain bound a heavy brilliantly illuminated leather tome beside it. Therin noticed her glance and smiled. He drew her aside, putting distance between them and Devan.

“Witch hunter,” he said with a jerk of his head toward the High Lord’s back. “Paladin,” he whispered and Alira felt a chill run down her spine. This man was part of the legendary group of knights charged with hunting down the Witches of Morinn, the knights who led the inquisition against the covens before they coalesced. She watched the straight back of the paladin as he led them to a locked door.

“I can chaperone her if you need, sir,” Therin said in deference. “I’ve not got duty until this evening.” Devan stared at the young monk for a moment before a voice called his name.

“High Lord Devan!” A page was scampering up the hall, coming from around the corner that they had just come from. The tall man turned, his eyebrows raised.

“Yes?”

“Message from the Primate, sir.” He handed the Highlord a creamy sheaf of papyrus and bowed.

“Thank you,” Devan said, then turned to Therin. “Thank you for your offer, Brother. I accept.” He handed Therin his small ring of keys and left with the page in tow.

“His manners are good, in any case,” Therin said laughingly as he unlocked the door and let Alira into the Library of the Witch Hunters.

The bookshelves were taller than Alira's height twice over, long sets of sliding ladders dotted them, allowing a reader to reach the upper shelves. The smell in the room was rich and warm, must and leather. Windows set high up let shafts of the morning light in but none landed on the stacks themselves, keeping the sacred knowledge safe from the destroying effects of the sun.

“I was wrong,” Alira breathed. “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Therin laughed heartily and led her further into the room, the door clicking shut behind them. He spun the keys on his finger and hummed as he led the way, his brown homespun robe swishing in the silence.

“Here we are,” Therin announced and waved an arm toward a shorter, squat set of shelves with books and scrolls of various sizes. “This is the rarest of the knowledge we possess. Aside from that.” He gestured dismissively to the glass case holding two books and an empty space for a third which blocked off a small section that was unlit. Just to quiet her curiosity, Alira quickly glanced at the two books behind glass and noted they were both just old edicts bound in a bright red leather.

“What belonged here?”

“The rarest book in the world regarding the Witches. It was stolen about twenty five years ago.” Therin leaned on the glass case casually and smiled down at her. “Imagine if it was the book you were looking for. What bad luck.”

“Mmm,” Alira hummed noncommittally but her stomach dropped in disappointed suspicion.

“Well, I know where most of the books are in this room. What do you need?”

“Can I just look around for a while?” She asked, keen to dive into the stacks.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll wait here. I’ve got all day.” He dropped the keys on the glass case and flopped into a huge wing-backed leather chair beside it, his bulk making the leather squeak in protest.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“Thanks,” Alira said with a smile. “I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Therin said. He lifted a globe from the table beside him and spun in mindlessly. Alira chose a shelf at random and began scanning the titles. After only a moment of silence Therin began talking again.

“This would be faster if you’d tell me what you’re looking for.”

“Do you have anything written by witches?” She asked carefully, her face still turned toward the long line of spines and their curly scripted titles.

“Sure,” Therin said and he jumped up, still carrying the globe and went down the aisle one over from the one she’d chosen. “Here.”

“Thank you,” Alira said as she scanned the titles again. These particular books seemed to be on herbology and potions, home remedies for cuts, recipes.

“My mother had this book,” she said absently, lifting out a thick purple book with silver script scrawled across the front.

“Housewife Handbook,” Therin said with a note of derision.

“It’s for anyone who might want to live by foraging,” Alira corrected in annoyance.

“But it’s called The Country Housewife Handbook.” Therin countered.

“Yes, but it’s–” Alira interrupted herself and put the book back on the shelf. She was getting distracted. She huffed in annoyance and turned to face Therin.

“I didn’t mean to offend–”

“Rare books written by witches,” she said, ignoring his apology. “You said you know where all the books are in this room. Find me a rare book written by a witch.” His eyes sparkled with the task. He handed her the globe, snapped his fingers and wandered away muttering. Now that she had gotten rid of him, she stared dumbly at the globe before returning to peruse the shelf.

“You want fiction?” Therin called. Alira thought for a moment. Would the collective rantings of mad witches be fiction?

“Poetry?” She tried, hoping to keep him occupied for a while longer.

“Found one,” he said after a few seconds. Alira sighed and moved further down the aisle.

“Found another,” Therin called after a few minutes. “This one is for children but technically counts as poetry.” He came trotting up the aisle from the opposite end he had left her at, a wide smile across his handsome, innocent face, his faintly tanned cheeks flushed with pride.

“And,” he said as he reached up, his sleeve brushing her cheek. He smelled like sweat and something metallic. “A third.” He held out the small stack to her with a boyish grin that made him look years younger.

“How come you know where everything is in here so well?” she asked as she traded the globe for the books.

“Like I said, I’m going to get my tabard and spurs soon. I’m training to become a paladin.” Her head snapped up and she met his pale eyes. “I’ll be the first new one in a long time.”

“Oh?” The innate fear she had for the order was deep seated, perhaps irrationally placed, but it was there nonetheless. She suddenly felt very self conscious.

“Yeah, soon.” Therin smiled at her again and led her to a small study area with a table and four chairs. “I’ll earn my tabard by reading the books required for me, then after my combat trials, I’ll earn my spurs.” He pulled out a chair for her and sat in the one beside it. “That means they’ll give me a horse. After I take my oath and prove myself heroic, I’ll get a warhammer.”

“How do you prove that you’re heroic?” Alira asked as she opened the first book.

“I need to perform a heroic deed. There’s a list of approved deeds but what they’d really like is for me to bring back a witch for questioning.” Alira’s skin rippled in fear. Therin leaned over one of the books and turned the pages quickly.

“Well, best of luck,” said the young witch as she hid behind the book before her.

Git. Henry said from somewhere far away inside her mind. Alira wondered if he meant her or the young monk.

Two hours later, after very little conversation, Alira determined that she had beat around the bush for long enough. She laid aside the tenth book he had pulled for her and sighed.

“Look, Therin,” she began but he had already set aside his own book and was staring at her. Alarmed, she looked away and coughed uncomfortably.

“What’s your name?” Alira blinked back in shock. She had not told him her name, had she? She felt both rude and awkward.

“Alira,” she said softly, holding out her hand. He took it gently and raised his eyebrows with a kind smile. “Sorry I didn’t mention it earlier.”

“I mean, I almost threw you down the stairs.”

“You didn’t throw me down the stairs, Therin.”

“Ok, pushed.”

“You–”

“If you’re looking for something not available to the public…” he said interrupting her. “Then, perhaps as repayment for me rudely shoving you down the abbey steps–”

“You didn’t–”

“As repayment for my rudeness,” he said again, louder. “Then I suppose I could look in the restricted section for you.” Realisation dawned on her. He wanted a reason to look for the book she needed.

She nodded slowly.

“Yes, as you did endanger my life–”

“I almost ended it,” Therin agreed enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling with humor.

“I accept your offer as retribution for the dangerous behaviour you displayed,” Alira said, keeping her face straight and the slightest trace of a giggle repressed.

“Retribution is my bread and butter, my lady.” Therin stood and swept the books off the table and quickly returned them to their rightful shelves. He came back and held out his hand to her. “Quickly, though, I have duty tonight and I don’t want to miss it because I’m being punished if we’re caught. Then I’d have double duty the day after and most of that will be scrubbing latrines.” Smiling, she took his warm hand and he pulled her after him into the back of the room.