Monastery Library

Ribs of whitewashed plaster vault the cloister's whole upper floor, and beneath them oak lecterns stand in two rows, chains hanging from each rail. Deep wooden pigeonholes rise up both walls by the hundred, packed with tightly tied rolls and ranked by century from floor to vault. Dust lies thickest on the highest of them, where no hand has reached in a long while. Candle gold warms the near end of the room, while the far end fades into cold blue shadow around a locked, iron-banded press of dark wood. Opposite it a scriptorium of plain desks sits beneath one tall window, and through the glass the green valley spreads far below. Ink, wax, old leather and cold stone scent an air so still that the candle flames stand upright and nothing in it moves.