Someone had murdered him — cut his poor throat and left him to bleed out on the floor of his own Library. Why?
And did they know that his mind had survived, if his body had not? Did they realise that he and the Library were now one and the same?
We were subdued in the wake of this news, though Galy was not. I sensed a growing urgency from him, at odds with his more buoyant behaviour of the previous day. Something had happened to him, I felt sure. Had there been a threat to the Library, while we worked our way through the corridor of doors? Whatever it was, he was anxious and eager and I was not surprised when his greenhouse dissolved around us as soon as we had deciphered his message.
I could make little sense of what followed, though. We were in a laboratory, watching as young-Krays an
