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For me, it was very heavy lifting. We'd already been at it for an hour, and my eyes ached. So did my back. I went back to the stiff pages of the book I'd been examining-I wouldn't say reading, really. The words were strangely formed, much more vertical than I was used to seeing. It wasn't even typeset. Someone had actually written this out by hand. A copy of a book back in those days was just that: copied. By hand. With a pen.
Talk about carpal tunnel.
And then, to my shock, I focused in on a word.
The word. "Uh, I think I have something."
"Good," Naomi said, and was around the table in a flash, reading where I pointed. "That is not what I am looking for, but it does pertain to the draug. Keep searching."
Draug, draug, draug. I was honestly sick of thinking about them. I wanted a day without a crisis. Just one. As I leafed through the book in front of me and watched the dust swirl in the air, I wondered if maybe there was some evil dormant virus in the pages that would infect me, like the mummy dust that used to kill archaeologists. Death by research. That was not a glorious end.
It was another hour and a half before I got another hit. A spiky splash of letters on the page caught my eye just as I turned another leaf, and I flipped back. Yeah, that said draug, again. I held up my hand. Naomi glanced at what it was, then leaned forward and smoothed her fingers over the old ink.
She took the book from me and sank down in the chair beside mine. Even tired, even rumpled, she was beautiful, and I had a revival of the Jealousy Parade for a second or two, even though I knew Michael wasn't interested in her ... and even if he had been, Naomi was an iceberg. I knew that now.
"Yes," she whispered. Her eyes had grown wider, and a bit of color bled into her ivory-pale cheeks. "Yes!" She stood up, pacing with the book held in both hands as she read aloud: " 'The draug are creatures of the hive. The workers die, but the master draug survives to found his hive anew.' "
"Yeah, we kind of knew that already," I said. "He's here. The hive's breeding, it's awful, et cetera. What does it say about stopping him?"
"That he cannot be killed," she said softly. "Silver will not destroy him." She put the book down and closed it, then rested her head on the palm of her hand as if she had a pounding headache. A really human gesture, for really human distress. Around us, the library was silent-deep carpets, big shelves, solid books. The dry smell of ancient paper. Books that the vampires had spent thousands of years gathering ... I'm not Claire-I don't get overwhelmed by that kind of stuff, but all of a sudden it seemed like I was standing in a tomb, or a museum, a building that was nothing but a memory of something long gone by.
The vampires were fighting their last fight here. The very last one, out of too many to ever count.
And Naomi, I realized, thought they were going to lose, big time, for all her talk of politics and future games.
"What about Claire?" I asked. "She can see him. How does that matter? Why does he care, if he can't be killed?"
"That is what I have you here to learn. So keep reading. It may be our only real hope."
Naomi threw the book in her hands violently. It hit a shelf and rocked the shelf back and forth in an arc that slowly settled back into stillness. The book flopped down onto the carpet, broken and dejected.
Like Naomi herself.
"Keep looking," she ordered, and stalked off into the shelves again. "I don't care how long it takes. Just find something I can use. If you don't, I'll have your brother for breakfast and make him mine. I promise you that."
"I can't find something that isn't here!" I shouted after her. I felt short of breath, ready to cry. This was such a bad deal. And honestly, what did it matter? Some part of me wondered that. My brother wanted it, right? He endured the bites because he wanted to have the power. He wanted to make himself into something else. Something new, and probably terrifying.
No. It mattered not just for him, but for all the people he would hurt if he grew fangs and had virtual immunity from justice. I was doing it for them as much as him.
So I kept working. My eyes felt as if they were bleeding, and my back ached so badly I was sure it was broken in a few places. Naomi only appeared to harass me and dismiss the few things I located that might be of use. I had no idea what she was doing now, but it couldn't be good.
And then ... Then I found it. This time, since Naomi wasn't there, I tried to puzzle out what it said myself. This wasn't even Middle English. I had no idea whether it was High or Low or just plain bizarre, but it took me half an hour to make sense of it enough to realize what I held in my hands.
The answer. And an answer I couldn't give Naomi. No way in hell. I shivered, staring at the paper, at the dry, ancient words.
"Well?" I raised my head with a startled gasp, and found Naomi leaning over the table, inches away. She smiled slowly. "I heard your heart rate increase. You've found something."
"No," I said, and turned the page. "I didn't. False alarm."
I didn't expect that would work. It didn't. Naomi grabbed the book from me and flipped the leaf, found the passage, and began to read. Her brow furrowed, and she sent me a dark look. "What is this?" She put the book down and spun it toward me, tapping the image inked on the fragile page. "Does the girl have this?"
"Not anymore," I said, very reluctantly. "But she used to." The drawing on the page of that book was of a gold filigree bracelet. Amelie had given it to Claire as part of her Protection agreement. She'd taken it back later, but Claire had worn it for a while. And she hadn't been able to remove it. Not at all. "It's not like it was magic or anything." Except that it wouldn't come off, which would kind of argue ... magic. Oops.
Naomi read the paragraph below the image again. "Amelie hasn't given a human a Protection agreement since she founded Morganville," she said, "save those she put in Founder Houses. Each had to be made for the person, and could not be used again. They were made with ..." Her eyes widened. "With a drop of draug blood in the metal. And when the last of it was used up, she could make no more. Claire's was the last."
"But she doesn't have it!" I protested. "Really! Claire hasn't worn it for-for almost a year!"
"And yet she can see Magnus, separate him out from his reflections and shadows." Naomi's smile took on sharp edges. And teeth. "The bracelet infected her with just a tiny inoculation of draug blood, as it had all of those in the Founder Houses who wore them when the vampires first came here. They were Amelie's eyes. Amelie's early warning. And that is why Claire continues to see him, and why Magnus wants her dead, very badly."
"Then why didn't Amelie use her to find him?"
"Because she didn't realize the charm still worked, of course. Not until it was too late. The girl no longer wore the bracelet; it was reasonable to assume that she no longer had the ability."
Oh, I didn't like this. I didn't like it at all. "You're not going to hurt Claire."
"Of course not. Good work, Eve. Very satisfactory work indeed. Your brother's agreement has been canceled. I won't touch him again. I make you that solemn pledge."
I didn't believe that first part at all. I stood up in a rush, hands in fists. "What are you going to do to Claire?"
"Nothing," she said. "Nothing at all. She's a good pet to keep, for the future. I'm sure we can make great use of her, Eve." She gave me that sweet, charming smile again, the expression of a marble angel. "And of you, of course. All will be well. You must trust me. When I am queen, you will do very well indeed."
"Queen of what?"
"Morganville. Of course." Naomi seemed way too complacent now. "Now that you've found this volume, we can construct more of these bracelets, whether Myrnin cooperates or not. And draug blood will surely not be in short supply when Oliver is finished. He will win, of course. I have every confidence in him as a military leader. Just not as a ruler."
I was in over my head. Way, way over, and I knew it. "Amelie's the ruler of Morganville," I said. "And I have the feeling she'll never let you near that title."
"My sister is dying," Naomi said. For a moment there was a flash of sadness in her eyes-almost real. Almost. "Come with me."
"Where?"
That earned me a look that was back to cool, calm remoteness. "I don't answer your questions," she said. "You haven't yet earned those rights from me. Careful how you address your queen, Eve. You are not married to Michael just yet. Now come."
