Vane had been in the library for exactly six minutes.
He was tucked away in the back of the north wing, deep within a row of dusty archives on pre-Imperial history. It was one of the few places on campus where the air didn't hum with active mana. He sat on the floor, his back against a mahogany shelf, trying to focus on a text about ancient spear forms.
Then he felt the vibration in the wood behind his head.
It was faint, a rhythmic tapping that didn't match the ambient sounds of the building. Vane didn't look up immediately. He slowly closed his book and let his hand drift toward the pocket where he kept his sharpening stone.
"You're making it very difficult to concentrate, Ashe."
"Good," a voice rasped from above him.
