How closely did the density of students correspond to the burden placed upon an Academy facility?
The answer appeared obvious at first.
More students meant more work.
More books left their shelves. More reference conduits remained occupied. More private rooms changed hands. More questions reached the circulation desks, and every additional body passing through the entrance created another possibility for misplaced texts, damaged materials, confused requests, or the occasional student who believed a librarian somehow possessed intimate knowledge of every obscure manuscript written during the last six centuries.
Yet the Western Library had taught Maggie that the relationship was considerably less elegant than simple arithmetic suggested.
Ten students preparing quietly could create less work than one panicked noble searching for a citation he had apparently known about for three months.
A hundred students might fill the reading galleries while barely troubling the staff.
