The library remained just as Aisha left it only five days previous, when she was still a child. She was relieved that the violence and chaos in the temple courtyard had not made its way inside where the sum of her ancestor’s knowledge was stored. The codices she indexed for Baraz remained in neat stacks spread across the central table under the rotunda ready for his review. Old Scribe, the cat who protected the contents of the library from mice, lay sunning himself upon a codex left open during the high priest’s last visit. The old cat stood up and stretched before trotting over to Aisha for head scratches.
"Old Scribe, I am glad you are safe," said Aisha, rubbing his face. "But I suppose you are smart enough by now to know where to hide when you need to. You survived the siege and the fall of the city, and you are the only one who maintained their rank and position under the Locusts."
Old Scribe purred and leaned against Aisha's legs.
"Silly cat. I have work to do. And so do you!" Aisha said. She picked up the book Old Scribe used for a napping spot and blew away a cloud of shed cat fur. "Look what you did. The High Priest will not appreciate your hair all over the manuscript he was reading."
Old Scribe turned his back on her and began washing himself.
Aisha turned the open codex over in her hands and then rifled through the pages, making sure to keep her finger marking the page Baraz had left open. Architectural drawings of the temple and palace covered the pages of the manuscript. Notes scribbled under each illustration indicated they were copies of drawings made by the original architects hundreds of years previous when the builders carved the city from the living rock of the mountain. She stopped at a drawing of the plans for the sanctuary, which showed a doorway where the altar stood before the Locusts came.
I went through that door the night I became Aisha.
She remembered her mother's words to her before she and the old hermit disappeared through the doorway and down narrow hallways into the catacombs deep beneath the city.
You must go with Manah. Go. They are coming, and I must stop the killing before our streets run red with the blood of our city. Go. I love you. You are a princess. You are the rightful heir to this throne, the rightful ruler of Adyll. You must survive or all is lost.
Old Scribe jumped onto the table, landing next to the codex where he lay down on the pages again.
"My mother was wrong about me, cat," Aisha whispered, burying her face in his fur. "All has already been lost, and I was not worth saving."
"Prrrbt?" responded the old cat.
"And I talk to library cats.” Aisha gathered herself. “Go on, Old Scribe. We should both be working and not crying over things we cannot change."
She shooed him off the codex, careful to leave it open to the correct page. This page showed the library itself, minus the towering rotunda which was added more recently under the reign of Irinya’s Grandmother. The bookmaker's closet was included in the original plans, but showed a much larger room, enough for several scribes and bookbinders to work simultaneously. Now, it could only hold half that number of workers crowded one next to the other. Aisha examined the drawing further. Perhaps the closet had been bisected to allow for additional storage at a more recent time than the original plans? But in her months inside the library, she had never seen any storage space in that area of the building.
Aisha looked back at the closet.
That night in the sanctuary... I never saw the door Manah took me through. Was there a door? Think, Aisha. Think back to when you were Irinya before this nightmare began. What did the door look like? I only remember my mother's face, and then the dark hallways and the stone sarcophagi lining the walls. And my hair falling around me next to a pool of water deep beneath the temple.
I cannot remember a door. The drawing says it was real. I know I lost myself among the dead with Manah, but how did I leave the sanctuary? Are there other hidden places in the temple?
Aisha looked back at the page one more time before walking into the bookmaker's closet, measuring it with her eyes, and picturing the layout of the rest of the library that surrounded it. There was missing space behind the wall of shelves where the bookmakers and scribes stored their supplies. She grabbed a few sheets of vellum and a thin piece of charcoal from the shelf before returning to the open manuscript. There she laid the vellum on the drawing of the library and traced the lines with the charcoal. She repeated this process on the drawing of the sanctuary before beginning to look through the rest of the drawings. She kept watch on the shadows as she worked to keep track of time. Baraz rarely came to the library, but given she had been in confinement for the last five days she needed to ensure it looked like she had been working.
She traced five drawings before deciding the risk was too great to continue. The sanctuary, the library, the outdoor walls and courtyard of the temple, the section of the catacombs where her ancestors lay, and the brothel. Nasreen would find it interesting if nothing else, and if Baraz stayed away from the library Aisha could make more copies in the coming days. Her mind was already filled with ideas of what could be behind the shelves in the closet - perhaps another scroll of forgotten stories of the Lady? Or a map to Thought's River of Tears?
She carefully rolled up her crude copies to avoid spilling charcoal on the original codex, and then stored them back inside the closet under the watchful eye of the Old Scribe.