It was a mirrored image of Morrígan’s Grand Library, down to the columns, the stones steps, the overflowing flowerbeds within the perimeter fence. Though while the Grand Library on campus was a picture of pruned perfection, its twin burst at the seams with verdant tendrils and moss anywhere there was room. It soaked the humid air with perfumes of wet soil and wild buds, and Saffron appreciated every detail for as long as it took Sunbeam to reach him. All the while, goosebumps flushed down his arms beneath the cloak. It made him homesick in a strange way, missing the nights he spent amongst the
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