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‘I may be a novice in the Library, Irene, but I was raised in my father’s court.’ Kai didn’t even sound angry. He just sounded depressed. ‘As Bradamant said, she knows the political landscape. But I know how these things work, too. In times of war, anyone might rise to power.’
‘We should be going,’ Irene said, trying to steer the conversation back to safer grounds. ‘Priorities, remember? Collecting a book? Before we were sidetracked by . . .’
‘By Bradamant, who wanted to suggest that your superiors were incompetent and you should take independent action,’ Kai said, showing no sign of being steered.
‘You’re not helping.’
‘I’m not trying to help. You’re bending over backwards to be fair to someone whom you have no reason to trust.’ Kai set his jaw stubbornly.
‘She’s another Librarian, and I trust her.’ Irene rethought that statement. ‘That is, I trust her not to be working with Alberich. Look, Kai, do you want me to run to Coppelia and tell her Bradamant was questioning her authority? Especially when Bradamant can perfectly well deny that she said it, or claim that I misinterpreted her?’
Kai tapped his chest. ‘You have an independent witness.’
‘Bradamant would say that you’d lie to support me.’ She saw Kai’s face darken at the insult. ‘Don’t lose your temper at me – it’s what she’d say, and it’s what enough people would believe.’
‘Then what can we actually do?’ Kai demanded.
‘Keep our eyes open and pay attention. And, in the meantime, go and get our book.’ She opened the door. ‘Coming?’
Kai muttered to himself, but let the subject drop. As they were crowding into the transfer cabinet, he asked, ‘Are you going to check the status of any other Librarians? If people have been killed . . .’
‘I checked on my parents,’ Irene said. ‘They haven’t reported any problems.’ And she could hardly go running off to check on them in person. At least Alberich would have no idea who they were or how to find them.
‘And your other friends?’
There was a pause as Kai worked out that Irene wasn’t going to give him a list of other friends. ‘Surely you know other Librarians,’ he said, sounding disappointed.
‘Of course I do,’ Irene replied. ‘That doesn’t mean I’m going to throw a panic fit and run round looking for a list of casualties. What are you getting at here, Kai?’
He shrugged. ‘Your sisters and brothers in arms are in danger. Irene, you went into danger to save me. Wouldn’t you do that for them too?’
This was getting more emotionally fraught than Irene enjoyed. The cramped quarters didn’t help, as they were now standing extremely close. ‘Well, yes, of course I would, but what exactly do you expect me to do here and now? Should I be panicking because there’s a chance that someone I know is . . .’ Dead. She knew a lot of other Librarians as casual acquaintances, even if she didn’t know them well. Coppelia and Kostchei had said that people had died. She didn’t want to speculate. It would be too hard to stop. ‘. . . in danger,’ she substituted. ‘I – we – have a job to do. Gate of B-1165.’
The transfer cabinet jolted into motion, sliding sideways through darkness and cutting off any rejoinder Kai might have made. As it dropped like a lift, Irene was forced to recognize the thing that annoyed her most about Bradamant’s proposal. It was that Irene desperately wanted to do it. She wanted to strike back against Alberich, to save the Library. Putting herself in danger to get the job done was hardly new. But her common sense revolted against the idea of putting herself in danger if it wasn’t actually going to accomplish anything. Bradamant didn’t have a plan beyond using themselves as bait. She just had wishful thinking.
If only they had some way of locating Alberich . . .
The cabinet slammed to a stop, and Irene and Kai staggered out into a windowless room, with barely enough light to avoid tripping over piles of books. There were no warning signs here about current dangers, no threatening posters, and no special seals on the door out of the Library.
‘Ready?’ she said.
‘Ready,’ Kai agreed, adjusting his cuffs.
Irene took hold of the heavy brass handle and shoved the door open, then stepped through into another world. She had to push aside a plush red rope cordoning off their door. There was an Out of order sign in Polish dangling from its handle. Beyond, the room was full of display cases and tapestries. Another place that had once been a true library and now was nothing but a museum. Kai grabbed her wrist, his grip hard enough to hurt. ‘Irene,’ he said, his voice shocked. ‘Some of my kindred are in this world.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Irene stared at Kai in surprise, and was about to ask for more details when the door at the other end of the room boomed open, thudding against the wall. She and Kai both turned to see who it was.
The man standing in the doorway was presumably a museum guard, though the cudgel hanging from his belt looked too well-used for Irene’s peace of mind. His clothing was stark black with red accents, with a high-necked jacket over breeches and boots. A brutal scar marred one side of his face. Two other guards filled the space behind him: the bulk of their shoulders made Irene seriously wonder about their normal duties. Museum guards weren’t usually this well organized, beefy, or clearly ready for violence.
‘Who are you and what are you doing here?’ the lead guard demanded.
It was a reasonable question, and it was one that Irene had been asked quite a number of times in her career. Unfortunately, I’m Irene and I’m here to steal books was rarely the answer that interrogators wanted to hear. More immediately, she couldn’t think of any good answer that would adequately explain her presence in an apparently heavily guarded area. She might as well go directly to the next usual step.
‘You perceive that I and this man are people who have a right to be here and who should be allowed to leave,’ she said firmly in the Language. The effort took her by surprise. It felt as if she was having to push the words uphill. The universe didn’t seem to want to accept the Language’s effect. Was this how it felt to work in such high-order worlds? She’d generally been employed in more middle-of-the-road ones before, or even chaotic ones.
Nevertheless, the Language worked. The guards all looked a bit confused, but the arrogant intimidation drained from their posture. ‘Apologies,’ the first one said, saluting. ‘We hadn’t realized, ma’am.’
