“This is a triumph. We’ll make fresh type, reprint some of the old books. Corvina can’t argue with that.” Penumbra darkens at the mention of the First Reader—his old friend. “What about him?” I ask. “He—uh. He seemed upset.” Penumbra’s face is serious. “You must look after him, Edgar. As old as he is, Marcus has little experience with disappointment. For as firm as he seems, he is fragile. I worry about him, Edgar. Truly.” Deckle nods. “We’ll take care of him. We have to figure out what’s next.”
So it wasn't Penumbra who was the true believer.
