The archive keeper moved the key behind his back when I asked for it a second time.
"His Grace's authorization, my lord. For anything in the inner inventory."
I looked past him at the narrow door. A seal ran through the stone around its frame, and the key was tied to his wrist. After yesterday I wasn't eager to find out which precaution mattered more.
I had come for equipment, or training notes, or anything that might let me use this body without ending up on the floor. The Valdrakes had sent children to the academy for generations. Surely one of them had needed help. I had expected the family name to get me as far as a catalogue.
"Then I'll use the outer one."
"Which volume?" He brought his hand forward again, letting the key rest against his cuff.
The shelves were labeled. That helped. I passed over family arms and maintenance accounts, slowing at estate transfers. Something sent ahead to the academy would at least be somewhere I was going.
"Deposits held elsewhere. I'm preparing for the academy."
"Receipts, then." He pulled out a ledger, changed his grip to spare a bandaged finger and carried it to the table. "You can consult these. Descriptions may refer to the restricted catalogue."
I sat with my hands on the table while he opened the book. It had a polished patch at one corner where people held the cover. He put a wooden pointer across the page, carefully clear of the text, and stayed beside me.
For some time I learned nothing useful. The index contained replacement fittings and instruments with names I couldn't have pronounced confidently. A damaged case had taken two pages to come home, with both parties adding remarks about who had been responsible for it. I read those twice. The keeper shifted his weight, and I realized I had spent more time on the quarrel than on the items themselves.
"Is there something in that entry, my lord?"
"The description—" I stopped as he glanced toward the sealed door. "No. Where it went. That's all I need."
He moved the pointer to the right-hand column. "Here. The acknowledgments are beside it."
I started again from the top, following the destinations. The academy appeared several times. One older entry recorded a sealed deposit delivered to a lower repository beneath the campus; a transfer mark identified it, while the description sent me straight back to the restricted catalogue.
There had been locked spaces under the campus in the game. I could remember doors better than I could remember where they led. Even if I had recognized this one, I still wouldn't have known what the Valdrakes had put behind it.
The entries above and below had dates in the return column. This one was blank. I turned the page to look for a continuation, found another set of receipts, and came back. The keeper leaned closer, waiting for me to ask something.
"May I have a sheet of paper?"
He supplied a small one. I copied the transfer mark, the public receipt reference and the destination, leaving out the description. I had almost enough information to picture myself walking up to an academy desk and asking for the deposit.
"Would I present this to collect it?"
"To inquire about it." He tapped the reference in the ledger. "Their clerk can confirm their own receipt. Access is separate."
"Even for—"
The key moved against his cuff as he straightened the pointer. I went back to checking my copy. On the second character he stopped me: "That stroke joins here. Otherwise they'll look under the wrong mark." I corrected it, grateful for something I could correct.
A latch clicked behind him. The inner door opened and a clerk came out carrying a covered box. He saw me and paused, leaving a narrow view of the room beyond his shoulder.
I turned in my chair, ready to tell him to wait. The seal in the frame gave a faint pulse. Pressure caught beneath my ribs, familiar enough that I pushed the chair back before I had decided to move.
"That will do," I said to the keeper, too quickly. I put my hand on the copied reference. "I have what I need."
The clerk took his box past me. I watched the paper until he was gone and the latch had closed again.
"One moment, my lord. The consultation register."
The keeper brought another book. He entered the volume I had read and turned it around, offering the pen. Beside the entry was a space for my signature. I had been careful not to ask about the deposit itself; I couldn't now refuse to put my name against the receipt index without making him remember that too.
My hand started Cedric's signature readily enough. After the first letter I had to slow down, recalling the name from the status screen and trying to keep the same slant. The keeper waited through it. When I finished, he took the pen and dried the ink without remark.
I folded the reference into my notebook before leaving. At the vault vestibule I could still feel where the pressure had been, though it had eased. I passed the closed door and went upstairs with one small sheet of paper. On it, the copied loop was dark from being drawn twice. I would have to show the academy clerk that character carefully.