Lambert isn't asking any questions at the moment as he's mostly trying not to explode. Fortunately, Syrlya's got a cooler head than he does (really most of the reason he brought him in the first place) and as he asks the Athenaeum's guardians his questions, the witcher's gaze drops to the book the Scribe is writing on.

And he frowns, anger ebbing as something occurs to him.

Do they have to be near a book, or do they just have to have seen it? He reaches into a pocket, tucking out a slightly-crumpled Polaroid picture he'd taken of the Silver Mirror that Zangetsu found. He squints at the faded sketch to refresh his memory -- he's been terrible at playing along with this shit, and mostly gotten by because all it requires is him acting like a witcher. Is it really as simple as holding out his hand and willing something to be there?

He looks up, about to ask, when the Scribe keeps speaking ... does ... that. Turns out it's super unsettling to see a copy of yourself, and Lambert's jaw just drops open as the scribe goes on, color steadily rising in his face but he doesn't manage words until the Scribe finishes their bit and he finally snaps back to himself.

"Enough! We get the point!" Just ... put it away!