Rhys scratched out his most recent line of writing with an anger that tore through the page. He’d promised Dar he could help, said he’d have something for him tonight, but the layers of riddles in the runes were confounding him. Despite working on the bloody thing all day, he’d hardly made any more progress since last night. Now there was a cat and a shadow…or smoke. That was the sum total of a day's work. He closed his notebook and flung it away in disgust, drawing a baleful glare from the only other person occupying the table in the library. Rhys returned her glare with a scowl. Then his anger dissipated, and his shoulders rounded as his back slumped. Taking off his glasses, he rubbed his bleary eyes.