Fairest by Gail Carson Levine

where I might learn something of magic mirrors or the meaning of the word Skulni . I found a manservant to lead me there.
    Inside, the birdsong paused and then took up again. Perhaps birds could read, because there seemed to be at least as many in the library as in the rest of the castle. And birds’ nests! The top shelf of every bookcase had a nest, and some of the lower shelves did, too. Frying Pan could find enough eggs here to feed the entire court.
    Even so, there were more books than birds. I had never seen so many. I wondered if the king spent much time here. I wondered if he liked books. I wondered if he would ever read again.
    Bookcases blocked the windows. I walked through the aisles and squinted at a book title: Tooth, Tongue, and Trilling . I pulled out the book and opened it. On the recto was an illustration of a portion of the tongue and several teeth. The vantage point was of a tiny person, standing on a huge expanse of tongue ringed by a wall of towering teeth.
    The verso was dense with words. I read a sentence: “Tooth preservation must be the primary object of the conscientious singer.”
    I replaced the book and read a title across the aisle: The Singer’s Hiss . A bookcase in the next aisle was filled with time-of-day songbooks. The opposite bookcase held nothing but songbooks about food and eating: Muffin Songs , Soup Songs , Songs to Chew On , and the like.
    Areida would revel in the songbooks. She adored old songs and odd songs, and she remembered every word after a single hearing.
    I looked at another title: Maudlin Ostumo Love Songs. Marvelous!
    But so far I hadn’t seen anything about magic or mirrors. I wondered if this was the songs-and-singing library and if there was a second library for other works.
    No. The shelves in the next aisle were full of volumes about Ayorthaian history.
    In the aisle after that, I discovered I wasn’t alone.
    At the end of the aisle a man slumped over a desk, his head resting on his forearms, his tangled gray hair spilling to one side. I backed away quietly. He was probably the library keeper. If I woke him, he might direct me to a book about magic mirrors.
    But he’d know exactly why a blemish like me wanted it.
    I decided to look awhile longer on my own.
    In the next aisle I spotted a book called Court Life: Habits, Rules, and Manners . Not spells, but something else I could use. I opened it to the index and found—
    Lady-in-waiting, 7, 89, 248–251
    compensation to, 251
    duties of, 249–250
    in household hierarchy, 27
    origins of, 7, 34
    privileges, 250
    selection of, 248
    I turned to page 249, but just as I found it, I heard the scraping sound of a chair being pushed back. I returned the book to its shelf. A hoarse but tuneful voice sang,
    â€œIs Anyone Here?
    Â Â  A book of lonesome songs.
    Â Â Is Anyone Here?
    Â Â  A good title, not overused.
    Â Â Is Anyone Here?
    Â Â  Aisle twelve, second shelf west.
    Â Â Is Anyone Here?
    Â Â  Just next to Where Were You?
    Â Â Is Anyone Here?
    Â Â  I’m truly asking,
    Â Â Is anyone here?”
    â€œI’m here,” I sang without leaving my aisle. Maybe he could help me without seeing me. “I’m looking for a book about magic mirrors.”
    He limped into my aisle, a stoop-shouldered man with one leg shorter than the other. He said, “You have a fine voice, Milady, the finest I’ve heard, reminds me of—” He sang:
    â€œQueen Amba, Voice of Ayortha,
    Â Â  A noisy title, but not overused,
    Â Â  Aisle four, center, top.
    Â Â  She hated ostumo, so they say.
    Â Â  Great-granddaughter to an ogre,
    Â Â  Or so they say.
    â€œNot a full book about magic mirrors.” He sang, “ Magic Artichoke Pitters and Other Curious Objects , a good title—” He broke off and said, “I’ll show you. It’s with the spell books.”
    He limped down the aisle and led me to the shelves