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Rook knocked on his door, her heart pounding. Foolish to be nervous. She had bought gifts for the others, too, wanting to help them all settle in, to let them know how she valued them. Why was Emmrich so different?

But she was nervous, and he was different, which had made his gift so much harder to select. Not too much … not too little … not too obvious … not too plain. She hefted the statue against her shoulder. Maybe it was a bit much, after all.

"Enter!"

He was bent over his desk as she came in, and immediately she felt guilty for disturbing him. "Hi, Emmrich. Um … I can come back, if you want?"

"Rook! Hello. No, please stay. I'm just composing a few letters. The other Watchers have been most interested in our adventures."

Manfred came and took the statue from her, hissing quietly, and Rook stood there, feeling awkward, not wanting to leave, but not entirely sure what she had come for. She asked the first question that came to mind. "What's the Grand Necropolis like?" Not that she hadn't been there, but she had only scratched the surface of what it contained, she suspected.

And it proved to be the right question, because Emmrich smiled eagerly and began to sing its praises. "Its majesty has stilled the tongues of kings and queens. It is a haven for spirits and the dead, a vast well of history. The duty and shelter of every Watcher. We who serve it are pledged to an eternal vigil."

He was so eager; clearly he loved it. "You miss it very much, don't you?"

"Oh, no, I'm fine. Completely absorbed in our venture. But if I were home, I'd be preparing for new students. Or requests to speak to the dead."

He'd had such a full life before she met him, done so many things. Rook felt vaguely guilty for pulling him away from that life. "You didn't stop teaching just to be with us, did you?"

Emmrich shook his head. "I was long overdue for a sabbatical. Besides, do you know how many pupils the faculty wanted me to take on this semester? Ten! How is one meant to tailor lessons for ten pupils at a time?"

Rook had a hard enough time picturing tailoring lessons for one. "I can't imagine. And your corpse whispering? Do people just ask you to show up and talk to their dead?"

"Not officially, no. There are very few of us, and it's not widely known. But we help, here and there. Questioning a victim of murder, clearing up disputed wills … And sometimes, fetching back last words from a loved one." His voice softened. He did love his work, pouring all his passion into it.

"You can get anything out of the dead, and yet they just let you leave Nevarra?"

"My gift has limitations," he explained. "The dead only know what they did in life. What was clear under the sun is sometimes blurred when I revive them." He smiled. "Honestly, some conversations aren't worth the trouble. Death encourages obstinacy."

Rook nodded, smiling back. "I expect to be quite the stubborn corpse."

Emmrich shivered at that. "Not for a very long time, I hope."

"Me, too." She shifted her weight, not sure where to go from there. "I should, um …"

"You came in with something, didn't you?" Emmrich got to his feet and went to the table where Manfred had set the statue, a raven perched atop a skull, its wings spread. "It's quite lovely. Where did you find it?"

"I was in a shop, and … I thought of you." She had said something similar when she gave Bellara the frog, and somehow managed to do so without blushing, and now here she was.

"Well. Thank you, Rook." He was so tall, and he was standing so close to her …

Before she did something they would both regret, she cleared her throat and stepped back. "I'll, um, let you get back to your letter."

"Rook! Wait." She turned back, and Emmrich stepped toward her, his voice low and soft. "Before you go, I wanted to thank you for your company in the Memorial Gardens. There's … another ceremony I have to perform there, if you'd like to visit again. Not yet, but … soon."

Rook's breath caught in her chest, and a smile spread irrepressibly across her face. "You know I can't turn down spending more time with you."

"Do I?" His voice was even softer still, and lower, and he seemed suddenly so close again. "How lovely to hear you say so. I'll always be glad to show you around the tombs, my dear. At your pleasure."

"I'll take you up on that."

"Wonderful."

She was looking into his dark eyes, leaning forward, her head lifted. But … this was hardly the time for such things, was it? The world was ending, the gods were spreading blight around, and here she was, hoping to be kissed? Grow up, Rook, she told herself. She forced herself to step back. "Until then."

"Until then."