Right. The girl had written library. He could do that. He could find a library in this place. He would find that library!
Salazar closed the journal and stared unseeingly at the wall. They had done it. They had founded that school and people remembered them hundreds of years later. He felt his knees go weak at the thought. "Right," Salazar muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "You'll do something for which you're remembered for a damn long time. Everybody knows your name. So no pressure." Bloody hell.
It was then, that a knock on the door distracted him, to be followed only shortly by a greeting. Salazar froze in mid-movement, his hand a hair's breadth from his sword. Or where his sword should be if he were still wearing normal clothes. Bloody brilliant, he thought dryly. He was without magic and without weapons. Thank Merlin that attackers usually weren't in the habit of announcing themselves, Salazar thought and turned around, suddenly curious himself.
He opened the door that led into the hallway and almost stumbled into the intruder. "Uhm...hello."