Vera picked an intentionally ambiguous criss-crossing route through the stacks until the duke, still intent on following her, at last fell behind. She couldn't even scold herself for being so rash with him; he was a unique form of irritating. So clearly used to getting what he wanted through intimidation. This did not bode well for their future journey. Once they were beyond the walls of the Archive, she doubted she could get away with speaking so freely.
No matter. There was no journey to be had if she couldn't obtain the time off and correct equipment. Even a single day of unauthorized missed work would spell a world of hell for her. Corvin would probably drag her straight to the chained section and summon a demon with the explicit instruction to punish her. All while denoting it as "standard corrective action" on all of the forms while her soul ended up trapped in the hells until he deemed her ready for more overtime.
Vera shook her head. She was hardly exaggerating. It would almost be as foul of a result as admitting that she misplaced the tome in the first place.
Once she was certain that the duke was no longer trailing her, she descended back to the ground floor and made her way to the edge of the atrium where Corvin stooped over the same trainee as before, piling book after book onto the reception desk.
"I want you to make copies of all three of these by tomorrow," Corvin was saying.
The trainee, a red-haired teenaged boy, gaped up at him helplessly. "Tomorrow? I can't––"
"You'll find the replicating ink in the drawer there."
"Can I use––"
"No stamps," Corvin said, "and no printing press. Your calligraphy needs the practice."
The trainee shook his head in disbelief, and Vera couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Corvin had assigned him easily a hundred pages.
"I can't––"
"Corvin," Vera said. The man glanced up, expression souring when he caught sight of her. "––Sir. May I speak to you about scheduling?"
"Unless you're offering to take over this lesson, I'd rather not hear it," Corvin said.
"It's important."
The supervisor studied her for a moment, nose scrunched as if the mere notion of standing her ground was an offense to him. When she refused to budge, he sighed.
"Fine. Come find me at dinner later.'
Vera shook her head. "It can't wait until then."
Corvin huffed. "Can't you see I'm busy?"
Busy tormenting that poor kid, she thought.
"Of course," she said, plastering a fake smile to her face, "you're booked up all day, I'm sure. I promise it won't be more than a few minutes."
Corvin examined her for a moment longer, then huffed. "This better be good."
He stalked away from his trainee to a nearby table where three researchers sat. Corvin glowered at them. After a heartbeat, they all lurched from their seats, gathered their quills and papers, and scampered away. Corvin claimed one of the empty seats and gestured for Vera to join him.
"Now, what could be so important?"
Vera slid into the chair across from him, steeling herself. "I apologize for the short notice, but I need to request some time off."
"Hmm." Corvin tapped his chin. "Starting when?"
Vera tried not to flinch. "Tomorrow."
"Request denied."
"But––"
Corvin waved a dismissive hand. "You said it yourself. That's much too short of notice."
Vera released a breath. She knew Corvin would be resistant, but not so readily. After all, she'd never requested this before.
"I've been saving up my time off for ages," she retorted. "I'm permitted to take off the rest of the year, starting today, if I wished. All I want is a month."
Corvin blinked slowly. "For what reason?"
"Does it matter? I'm allowed the time regardless."
"Yes," Corvin said, frowning. "I'd like to know why you believe you have the right to burden the archival department like this."
I'm a burden to the department? Vera wanted to scream. All I've ever done is take over the work you're meant to be doing!
She fought to keep her voice steady. "I've worked overtime nearly every day since this promotion. I'd like to take some time off to recharge and explore the island a bit."
Corvin barked a dry, humorless laugh. "Oh, so you're an adventurer now? I don't think so. I need you here."
Vera laced her hands together to keep them from shaking. "Corvin, please. I never ask you for anything."
"And all I ask is to do your job." He shook his head. "Is that so difficult?"
"This is a violation of my archivist contract," Vera said, her throat tightening.
Corvin crossed his arms. "If you think so, go take it up with Idonea. Until then, I expect to see you out on the shelves at dawn tomorrow. You wouldn't want me to write you up for insubordination, would you?"
Vera gritted her teeth. "Of course not."
Corvin rose from his seat, throwing her an indignant glare. "I'll be returning to my trainee now."
Vera fought to keep herself from throwing a spare inkpot at him. She shouldn't have been surprised. Corvin had never been reasonable to work with. But he now left her with the option she'd been trying to avoid: asking Idonea directly.
As he strode away, she weighed her options once more. Embarrass herself in front of the Head Librarian or face the wrath of the Duke of Ruin when she went back on her promise. Neither were appealing. Her fingers were beginning to numb with the anxiety of it all. She cradled her face in her hands and took a long, slow breath.
Logically, Idonea was the more reasonable of the parties. More cordial than Corvin, at least, although that was a low bar to clear. Vera had always admired her for her practicality and fairness. When she was younger, she used to look up to her like a god.
It was such admiration, however, that made her request all the more painful to make.
There was no other choice. Suppressing a groan, Vera rose from the table and trudged up to the third floor where the Head Librarian's office lay. Her hand hovered above the the dark wood as she prepared to knock. It hadn't been long since she'd accidentally led the duke inside. What would Idonea think of her asking for time off so soon? Nothing good, she supposed.
Vera clenched her teeth and knocked. Shuffling sounded from within, then the lock unlatched and the door swung open. Idonea stood in its frame with the same straight-backed poise she always wore. She looked like everything that Vera was not.
"Ah, Verena," Idonea said. "Did you need something else?"
Vera twisted her fingers together as she debated her next words. "Um. I wanted to apologize for earlier. I didn't mean for the duke to follow me in here. I was just looking for one of the backlog ledgers."
Idonea gave a single, curt nod, but her expression softened. "I understand. It's not the first time I've had a noble feel entitled to stick their nose where it's not wanted."
Vera's knotted stomach loosened, if only a touch. Yes, Idonea was indeed her more reasonable superior.
"Thank you." She swallowed. "There was also something else. I hate to ask you, but I put in a time off request with Corvin, and he seems to have… misunderstood my holiday permissions. I have enough days saved up through the end of the year, but I'm only looking to take off the next month. I'm hoping to verify the request with you."
"Let me take a look."
Idonea retreated further into the office and headed to the desk where she flitted through several drawers. After a moment, she pulled out a crisp scroll, unrolled it, and skimmed through it. Vera held her breath as Idonea began to nod.
"Ah, yes, I see. Combining your banked nightshifts with overtime, you have three months saved up. There's no reason to deny your request."
Vera released a puff of air. "Thank you."
Idonea set the scroll aside, facing Vera with a steady look. "You've worked harder than most, Verena, and you deserve a break. I only worry that you're overextending yourself."
I have to, Vera wanted to say. No one will look at me otherwise. Not even you.
She couldn't, though. Not after all that Idonea had done for her.
"It's all right," Vera said, waving a hand. "I promise. I enjoy the work."
Idonea's age-lined mouth twitched up into a slight smile. "That's good to hear. I'll let Head Archivist Corvin know of your holiday. Please get some rest."
Vera returned her smile. "I will. Thank you again."
She left the Head Librarian's office and closed the door softly behind her. One task down. The next should be simpler so long as she could expedite the request.
As she headed down one floor to the Conservatory, she tried to make a list of equipment in her mind. She'd never spent more than a few hours outside of the Archive and wasn't sure what exactly she'd need. Tents, bedrolls, travel rations, and campfire charms, surely. The Conservatory would likely have pre-ordained lists of equipment for guardians and researchers who made more frequent trips beyond Witherstone Isle.
More complicated would be protection against beasts. In the likely event that the duke left her for dead after recovering the Blackfire Codex, she needed to ensure her ability to return to the Archive in one piece. Surely she could loan herself one magical weapon or other for self-defense.
When she arrived at the Conservatory's reception area, her hopes were dashed against the wall. Manning the desk was Thierry, a face she dreaded nearly as much as Corvin's. It was just her luck. Of the dozens of workers in the support department of the Archive, he had to be the one on duty.
He scowled as he spotted her. "Need something?"
"I'm going on holiday," Vera said. "I need equipment to get to Witherstone's docks."
Thierry's frown shifted into a fox-like sneer. "A holiday, is it? Off to the swamps of Rotwater? Maybe you'll reunite with your family there."
Vera released a breath. "Just give me the request form."
Thierry narrowed his eyes, but to Vera's relief, hauled himself from his seat to retrieve the scroll. He wasn't quick about it, though, and he pulled out a quill and inkpot at the pace of a snail. Vera tapped her foot as the minutes dragged on. When he at last presented her with the parchment, she made haste to scrawl her request.
Name of Requester: Verena
Purpose of Outing: Recreation; Approved Leave
Destination: Southern Docks, Witherstone Shoreline
Duration of Absence: 30 days (standard leave period)
Requested Provisions: 2 standard-issue canvas tents, weatherproofed; 2 bedrolls, padded; 30 days' supply of archived travel rations (sealed packets); 1 satchel of campfire glyphs, pre-inscribed for instant use.
Additional Request: 1 unit Arcane Defense Implement, Warding Lantern.
Expedited Fulfillment: Departure at dawn tomorrow.
When she handed it back to Thierry, he made an exaggerated point of looking it over. Vera tried not to groan, especially when he raised his brows in obvious interest.
"Woah there," he said, "that's quite the list."
Vera rolled her eyes, fighting to keep her voice even. "Have you seen the swarms of scarbeaks out there lately? I need a backup tent in case they trash the first one."
Thierry scoffed. "Please, the tents should be the least of your concerns. You think you can make it to the southern docks without requesting a guardian? I'd like to see you make it past the gatehouse."
"That's what the warding lantern is for," she retorted. "I'm not taking a guardian with me."
"You're going alone? You're stupider than I thought."
"Call it soul searching in solitude. It shouldn't matter to you. I just need this request expedited."
Thierry gave the form another dramatic once-over, then slammed it down on the desk and emphatically shook his head.
"Yeah, I don't think so."
Vera bit her tongue and narrowed her eyes. "And here I was thinking you'd want to get rid of me as soon as possible. I didn't know you cared so much for my presence."
Thierry frowned. "That's not––"
"We might be in different departments, but I still outrank you. I'll find your supervisor if you don't file the request."
Thierry blinked at her for several moments, likely trying to call her bluff. When she held his stare, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
"Fine," he spat.
Vera didn't take her eyes off of him until she was certain he placed her form in the appropriate shelf. When he was done, she forced a smile.
"Thanks."
Thierry huffed. "Feel free never to come back."
Vera turned away. "Don't hold your breath."
She tried to keep her feet steady as she walked away, but once she was out of his sight, she slowed. A part of her had been hoping that she would fail somewhere during this process, that she could blame the Archive's bureaucracy for backing out of her deal with the duke. Now, though, the preparations were set. It seemed she would be braving the wild with a power-hungry tyrant after all.