Adamat examined Uskan. His friend did indeed look young, far younger than forty-five years. He had the pinched face of a man who squints a lot, reading by too little light. “It’s the spectacle of the century,” Adamat said.
“Of the millennia,” Uskan said. He returned to his desk and offered Adamat the only other chair in the room. “Never in the history of the Nine, since their founding by Kresimir and his brothers, has a king been dethroned. Not once. I don’t even… I don’t even know what to say.” He brushed the worried look from his face like a mote of unwanted dust. “How is Faye?”
“Out of town with the children, thankfully.”
“A stroke of luck.”
“Yes.”
Uskan perked up. “How’s the printing press working? I’ve been knee-deep in work for so long I haven’t even thought to send you a letter. Must be exciting to see it work. The first steam-powered press in all of Adro!”
“You hadn’t heard?” Adamat grimaced.
Uskan shook his head.
“It exploded.”
Uskan’s mouth fell open. “No.”
“Killed an apprentice and destroyed half the building. I’d stepped out for a cup of tea and when I came back…” Adamat mimicked an explosion with his hands. “No more Adamat and Friends Publishing.”
“Surely you were insured.”
“Of course. They refused to pay. I sued for damages. They found it cheaper to bribe the magistrate than to cover all my expenses.”
Uskan’s mouth kept working silently. “I can’t believe it. That had all the makings of fame and fortune. You’d be a wealthy man now if that had succeeded. Why, I’ve just read in the papers that eleven bookstores have opened in Adopest alone in the last six months. Reading is becoming very fashionable. Poetry, novels, history. The industry is booming!”
“Don’t rub it in.”
Uskan cringed. “Adamat. I’m so sorry.”
Adamat waved a hand. “Things happen. It was nearly a year ago. Besides, I’m not here to talk about my troubles. I’m working.”
“An investigation? At least you have that to fall back on.”
“Yes.”
“Anything I can do to help,” Uskan said.
“I hope it won’t be a bother. I need to know about something called ‘Kresimir’s Broken Promise,’ or ‘Kresimir’s Promise.’”
Uskan leaned back and frowned at the ceiling. “It sounds…” he said after a few moments. “Something on the edge of my memory. But I do not recall. Not everyone has your gift.” He stood up. “Let’s go look.”
They left the administration building and crossed to the library. Someone had thought to lock the ancient doors of the big building, but Uskan had his keys.
The vestibule was little more than a place to hang coats and wipe your shoes. Beyond that was one wide, open room with three tiered levels. Staircases and ladders seemed to be everywhere, with tables for research haphazardly placed at the end of bookshelves or beneath windows.
“I hope you have some idea of where to start,” Adamat said. It was easy to forget how big the library really was—Adamat hadn’t been there for decades. “Else this will take all day.”
Uskan headed confidently to their right and up the nearest flight of stairs. “I think I do,” he said. “Though it might take a while. We’ve had some major additions to our collection lately and I’ve not spent as much time in the library as I want. Still, can’t complain about new books. The industry is booming, but books are still expensive.” He glanced at Adamat. “A steam-powered printing press would have begun to change that.”
Adamat rolled his eyes. Uskan meant well, but he spoke as if the explosion had been Adamat’s fault.
Uskan counted rows of shelves before turning down one with purpose. He grabbed a sliding ladder and pushed it along in front of him. His voice echoed in the empty space above them. “It used to be Jileman University got all the good library grants. In fact, the Public Archives in Adopest is twice the size of our collection. Why didn’t you go there first?”
Adamat paused to run his fingers along a leather book spine. He liked libraries. They were dry and dusty, with the smell of papers, the smell he associated most with knowledge. To an inspector, knowledge was paramount. “Because the city center is a zoo right now. Execution, remember?”
Uskan turned to blink at him. “Oh, right.” He resumed pushing the ladder. “If we don’t have luck here, go to the Archives. They’re quite well organized. Some very talented librarians down there. Cross-reference ‘theology’ and ‘history.’ At least, that’s where I’m going to look first.”