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Irene shook her head. ‘It just said “you”.’
‘Then it could have been addressed to any Librarian in the area?’
‘It could,’ Irene agreed. She tried to guess what Kostchei was suggesting here. Did he want to imply that any Librarian was in danger from Alberich? She let her eyes slide sideways to Coppelia, and saw that the other woman had her lips pressed firmly together and was frowning. I’ll take that as a hint. ‘I do have reason to believe that Alberich has contacts with the Fae, too,’ she added. ‘It’s in an earlier report of mine, concerning a claim by one of the Fae. A few months back.’
Kostchei nodded. His face was impenetrable, a stone mask with beard and eyebrows. ‘This appears to be another example of Alberich’s threats. If there are any further such direct messages to other Librarians, they’ll be examined for a possible triangulation on his location. Kindly speak to your supervisor after this meeting.’ He glanced across to Coppelia, who nodded.
‘And someone tried to kill me just last night,’ Irene added, aware that it sounded a bit weak, tagged on the end like that. ‘Though that could have been a coincidence.’
Kostchei looked at her, his eyes liquid ice, and Irene found herself stuttering to a halt and closing her mouth. He had more presence in that glare than some Fae lords she’d faced down. It wasn’t psychic powers, as some people would have described them. It was simply Alpha Teacher, channelled with a side order of extra ice and public humiliation, and it worked far too well.
Nobody else raised any questions. Penemue’s drive appeared to have fizzled out with that interruption, and she was now pointedly not looking at Irene. I’m guessing that the post-meeting coffee has been cancelled, now that I’m not quite so useful.
Kostchei swept his gaze across the group of Librarians. ‘For the moment, the policy is to strengthen the Library’s ties to the alternate worlds. As usual, this will be accomplished by gathering books important to those worlds and bringing them here. This means that you will all be getting urgent assignments, now or in the near future. Do the job, get the book, bring it back as fast as possible.’
‘What of our more prolonged missions?’ Gwydion asked. ‘Several books have I now sought for years, and I would not set those tasks aside and waste my effort.’
Irene resisted the urge to cover her eyes and sigh. Had she ever been that stupid? Possibly, but she liked to think that even when she was younger, she would have known better than to ask a question like that.
Kostchei glared at Gwydion. ‘Get your priorities right, boy,’ he growled. ‘This is not some sort of casual diversion. This is an emergency. The Library is in danger. Forget the damn long-term projects. What we are doing, right this minute, is shoring up our defences and making certain that our gates and links stay solid.’
Irene glanced at the other Librarians out of the corner of her eye. Nobody was actually raising their hand to ask the ten-million-dollar question, namely: Isn’t this a very short-term approach? Aren’t we just treating the symptoms, rather than the underlying problem? Shouldn’t we be thinking about a long-term strategy, or attack, not simply defence? What if this doesn’t work?
Kostchei took a deep breath, visibly composing himself. ‘Any further developments or information should be reported immediately. Take all due precautions. Bear in mind that you are valuable resources and that the Library prefers you to stay alive. Get out there and do your job.’ He rapped on the table with his knuckles. ‘You are dismissed.’
Irene had to push past a few other Librarians on her way down towards Coppelia. A couple of them gave her semi-friendly nods or sympathetic glances, and both Gwydion and Ananke muttered something about staying in contact. Irene made a mental note that she should probably make the effort. Assuming they all survived this. Penemue and Kallimachos both looked right through her, the sort of deliberate ignorance of her presence that would have been called the cut direct in certain times and places. Well, fine, she thought. Thanks for making it so very clear why you were interested in me, and why you aren’t now. It saves time. A background murmur of debate rose behind her, far more tense than the earlier chat before the meeting.
She let Coppelia lead her into a small side office. Coppelia was in her usual dark blue, with a white lacy shawl round her shoulders, and her wooden hand was newly polished till it almost glowed. But she looked tired. There was a hollowness around her eyes, and a sense of strain to the way she moved. Irene was reminded that senior Librarians became like this because they’d worked out in the field until they were old, and then finally retired to the Library – where nobody aged and no bodily time passed – to become positively ancient. At this precise moment, Coppelia looked ancient too, and weary.
The office was sparsely furnished. Coppelia settled into one of the flimsy-looking glass chairs with a sigh, and gestured Irene into the other. ‘Briefly, who’s trying to kill you, and why?’
Irene gave a rundown of the last couple of days’ events, trying not to imagine her chair collapsing beneath her. ‘I don’t know who is responsible,’ she finished. ‘But Lady Guantes has an obvious motive. So does Alberich, but I don’t think he can reach me in my current posting. Not after he was banished from there previously.’ The mere thought that he might be able to left a sour taste in her mouth. ‘And even if he did, he wouldn’t just leave poisonous spiders in my bedroom.’ ‘Venomous,’ Coppelia corrected her absently. ‘A spider is venomous: it creates the poison and delivers it by biting. Minus a point for incorrect terminology.’
‘Is this really the time to—’ Irene started angrily.
‘Yes,’ Coppelia snapped. ‘Yes, it is and it always will be. You use the Language, child. You have to be absolutely precise or you will get hurt. I have not invested all this time and effort into you to lose you now.’
Irene took a deep breath. ‘How nice that I matter to you.’
‘Don’t be silly, Irene. I haven’t time for you to be juvenile. Can you behave like an adult, or should I have you wait outside while we take the next briefing?’
This was the second time inside half an hour that she’d been scolded as if she was still a teenager. It hit nerves already frayed from assassination attempts and threats from Alberich. ‘People are trying to kill me,’ she said, controlling herself with an effort. ‘The Library’s been threatened by Alberich. Gates are being destroyed. Alberich sent me a personal message. I haven’t time for you to treat me like a child. Is this really the moment for power games?’
Coppelia tapped a wooden finger on the table. ‘Just because you’ve stayed out of Library power games in the past doesn’t mean that you’ll always be able to do so. Do you have any relevant questions?’
‘Yes. What should I do if Alberich tries to contact me again?’
Coppelia hesitated. ‘I would like to tell you not to bother answering him. But we desperately need further information. If you think you can get anything out of him, try it.’
‘Answer him?’ Irene hadn’t thought it was possible to respond to that sort of message. It was yet one more thing that junior Librarians didn’t ‘need to know’. The thought rankled, another brick on top of a growing construction of annoyance. Just think, if she’d been able to respond before, after receiving other emergency messages . . . ‘How?’
Coppelia pursed her lips as if she was considering reproving Irene for her tone, but her answer was mild. ‘You need to overwrite the written material with your own message, using the Language. The person who sent the first message should still be focused on the link to your general area and will perceive it. The link doesn’t last long, so you’ll only have a chance to exchange a few lines.’
‘How safe is this?’ Irene asked.
‘Nothing’s totally safe. What sort of guarantee are you looking for?’
Irene spread her hands. ‘Well, are we talking about me being led into sedition by his hypnotic messages unsafe, or Alberich using this theoretical link to drop a rain of fire on my head unsafe?’
