They slid the heavy volume back into its slot. The walk out of the archive and through the quiet afternoon streets of the outer district passed in a dense, shared silence. None of them wanted to break the gravity of what they had just read.
At the market square, Bruce paused at the quiet book stall. The stall keeper glanced up from behind his glass, catching Bruce's eye with a familiar nod.
"Ackerman. Your delivery arrived. Elenora's three volumes."
"You checked?"
"The runner left them at your rooming house this morning. I confirmed it while running my own errands," the keeper said, adjusting his glasses. "Part of the service. Need anything else to pair with it?"
"Not today," Bruce said. "I have enough reading to last me. I'll be back when I run out of pages."
"Good reading, then."
