Night Reconnaissance

Night brought silence to the lower floor. Using the vertical grooves along the bookshelf uprights, I scaled upward in measured increments, securing handholds between bound spines. At the summit, forty centimeters above the rug, an iron bookmark shaped like a tethered anchor lay flat against the grain. Its linked chain hung slightly over the precipice. I crouched, testing the weight of each oval link against my gauntlet. The metal was cool, unyielding, and evenly cast. From this height, the entire dim expanse of the room rests under steady observation.