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‘Ibai,’ said Chergoa with the cadence of a disapproving mother. ‘You can’t be best friends with a building. Especially one that wants you dead.’

Ibai, however, seemed oblivious to her tone. “How come?”

‘Because--that--it just makes no sense.’

“Why?”

‘You--’ Chergoa paused. ‘Y’know what? You’re right. You can be best friends with a rock, for all I care.’

Emiliana squinted and glanced at the reaper. ‘Are you getting jealous of a building?’

‘No,’ she said privately. ‘Shut up.’

Ibai was looking inquisitively towards Gohvis. “How can I get on the Library’s good side?”

A beat passed, and the Monster gave a hulking shrug.

“Well, dang.”

Surprising herself, Emiliana had an idea. “Um, maybe you could try writing a book of your own and then give it to the Library as a gift.”

Ibai stopped. And then his face lit up. “That’s brilliant! Ooh! What should it be about?! Wait, no, don’t tell me! It would be better if I figured that on my own, wouldn’t it?! Hmm! Interesting!” He turned around and started back in the direction that he’d just come from. “A book, a book! Fiction or non-fiction? Pictures or no pictures? Hmm!”

‘And there he goes,’ said Chergoa.

“I wonder how long that will keep him occupied for,” said Emiliana.

‘No telling,’ said Chergoa. ‘I could see it being ten minutes or ten months, depending entirely on how interested it keeps him.’

“Mm,” hummed Gohvis. “I’m more curious about what manner of creation might arise from that brain. I am reasonably certain than no aberration-written book currently exists.”

Chergoa’s next words had the echo of privacy to them. ‘You alright, Em?’

The question caught her off guard, but after a moment, Emiliana understood why the reaper was posing it. There hadn’t been many occasions thus far where Emiliana had been alone with Gohvis. ‘Yes, I am fine.’

Gohvis was still looking off in the direction that Ibai had gone. “Increasingly, he reminds me of someone.”