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“Mm,” hummed Gohvis with his low double-voice. He pushed the chair on the other side of the small table out of his way and sat down on the floor instead. He was tall enough that he was still slightly above Emiliana’s eye level. “And the fact that it was written by your own ancestor has no bearing on your interest in it.”

She eyed Agam Elroy’s name on the binding another time. “I didn’t say that.”

“What do you hope to glean from that book?”

That question made her hesitate. “I don’t know...”

Gohvis merely sat there, waiting for her to elaborate.

“What, um...” She felt like she might be treading on thin ice with this next question, but she just couldn’t get it out her mind. “What was Agam like? You knew him, didn’t you?”

The Monster took his time answering. “He was unique.”

It was her turn to wait. That couldn’t have been all Gohvis was going to say about him, surely.

“But he was not someone you should look up to, if that is what you are hoping for,” said Gohvis.

That irked her for some reason, and she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “And you are?”

And for a long moment, the Monster of the East merely looked at her.

Emiliana met his gaze steadily, but she could feel her heart in her throat, and her whole body seemed to become a statue, too scared to even twitch. In her mind, though, she was sure that Gohvis wasn’t going to hurt her.

Mostly sure.

“Agam was more mystic than scientist,” Gohvis finally said. “He was brilliant, to be sure, but superstitious did not even begin to describe him.”

Emiliana breathed again. Then her eyes went to the book in her hands.

“Perhaps it is for the best that you do not understand,” said Gohvis. “His words have a way of seeding irrational thoughts into impressionable minds.”