Evan found Mira exactly where he expected: buried in books. She had a tower of them on her desk, plus several floating in a slow orbit around her head like particularly well-behaved satellites. She looked up as he approached, pushing her glasses up her nose.
"Lord Carter. Or should I say, the Miracle Worker?"
"Don't you start."
"I'm not. I'm fascinated." She gestured to one of the floating books. It drifted closer obediently. "Medical texts. All referencing spontaneous healing. Magical regeneration. There's precedent, but nothing quite like what you did. You didn't just heal—you enhanced. Strengthened. Improved."
"I didn't do anything. I just... helped."
"By improving a biological system." She caught the floating book, opened it to a marked page. "See? Most healing magic repairs damage. It doesn't... upgrade. What you did is theoretically possible, but practically unheard of. The energy requirements alone should have been enormous."
Evan sat opposite her. "The queen wants me to demonstrate for the military tomorrow."
Mira's expression darkened. "Of course she DOES. The general has been pushing for magical advantages for years. Your... talents... would be quite the advantage."
"I don't want to be an advantage. I want to be left alone."
"In this palace?" Mira almost smiled. "That's the one thing you CAN'T be." She closed the book. "The ledger you improved. I've been studying it."
"And?"
"The pattern continues. For ten years. Every third month. The same amount. The same handwriting." She leaned forward, lowering her voice. "I cross-referenced with other records. Shipments. Visitors. Events. Construction projects. Magical expenditures."
"What did you find?"
"Nothing. And that's the INTERESTING part." Her eyes gleamed behind her glasses. "Records that should exist don't. Visitors who should be logged aren't. Shipments that should be documented are missing. It's not just hidden expenditure. It's hidden... everything."
Evan felt a chill that had nothing to do with the library's temperature. "What does that mean?"
"It means someone at court—someone with access and authority—has been hiding something for a decade. Something that happens regularly. Something that costs exactly the same amount every time." She pushed another book toward him. "This is a history of magical artifacts. Specifically, ones that require regular... maintenance."
Evan took the book. The page showed an illustration of a crystal that pulsed with dark light, veins of shadow running through it. The caption read: "The Heart of Night, artifact of binding, requires quarterly infusions of magical energy to maintain containment. Failure to provide such infusions results in... complications."
"Binding WHAT?" Evan asked.
"The text doesn't say. But there are references to 'an ancient threat sealed beneath the palace' and 'the price of safety is eternal vigilance.'" Mira tapped the illustration. "Every third month. Regular maintenance. Hidden costs."
"You think the palace is hiding a magical artifact? Or a prisoner?"
"I think," Mira said carefully, "that there are LAYERS to this place. And we're only seeing the surface." She took the book back. "Be careful, Evan. You reveal things. And some things don't WANT to be revealed."
Evan thought of the figure in the corridor. The feeling of being watched. "Someone's already watching me."
"Of course they ARE. You're the most interesting thing to happen here in years." She stood, gathering her books. "I have research to do. You have... whatever it is you have. Try not to improve any more historical records. The archivists are having enough trouble as it is."
As Evan left the library, he passed the Restricted Collection. The Codex of Unmaking—the book he'd rewritten—glowed softly on its shelf. The silver clasps shone, and the pages seemed to hum with their new, philosophical text.
He almost reached for it. Almost.
But something stopped him. A feeling. A warning, maybe from the book itself, or from his own growing sense of caution.
Some knowledge, once gained, couldn't be ungained.
And some truths, once seen, couldn't be unseen.
He left the library, the glow of the codex fading behind him like a forgotten dream.
***