‘A-21, Italian giallo novels, late twentieth century,’ Kai reported.
A-21 Italian giallo novels late twentieth century, or entrance to Vale’s world, which is easier? Irene sent to Bradamant.
Entrance Vale’s world, see you there ASAP, the message came back.
‘We should hurry,’ Kai said, pacing up and down and ignoring the spare chair. ‘If she has something urgent to tell us . . .’
‘Give me a moment,’ Irene said. She was checking current announcements on the network. Unfortunately there weren’t any along the lines of Alberich is dead, everything’s been sorted out, you can all relax and go back to normal. But there were lists of worlds whose gates had been destroyed – a longer list than she’d hoped to see – and there was a list of dead Librarians. She scanned down it, her heart cramping in her chest at the thought that she might recognize a name. And she did recognize a couple.
Kai had stopped pacing and was staring over her shoulder again. ‘I knew Hypatia,’ he said.
It was one of the names on the list. ‘I don’t think I ever met her,’ Irene said.
‘She was a bit older than you. She used to say: It isn’t your job to die for the Library, it’s your job to make other people die for your Library—’ He cut himself off, straightening, and his next words were cold and polished. ‘She gave her life honourably in service to the Library. I shouldn’t demean her sacrifice.’
Irene closed the window, logging out of the computer. ‘I don’t think there’s anything shameful in repeating a joke she liked. At least you’re remembering her. Isn’t that better than not remembering her at all?’
The Library’s shadows hung around her, a silent promise of the future. After all, when Irene herself died, what would be left of her? A handful of unread books in an unused bedroom. A footnote in the memories of a few other Librarians.
And vital books on the shelves of the Library, which wouldn’t have been there without her.
‘Come on,’ she said, ‘the transfer cabinet’s this way.’
‘Irene, your parents—’ Kai broke off, his tone uncertain.
‘Not on that list,’ Irene said. ‘Still safe. As much as anywhere’s safe at the moment.’
Bradamant was waiting for them outside the room containing the portal to Vale’s world. She was leaning against the wall under one of the lamps and was scribbling in a notebook. The dim light threw her into shadow, making her look like a slender pen-and-ink sketch in a dark pencil-skirt and jacket. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of them. ‘What happened?’
Irene looked down at herself. She was mostly dry, but her dip in the river had left her gown and stolen robe hopelessly crumpled. And the marks from her nosebleed all down her bodice proved that cold water didn’t always get rid of bloodstains. ‘The mission went wrong and we ran into Alberich,’ she reported succinctly. ‘We got away.’
‘Well, of course you got away, or you wouldn’t be here now,’ Bradamant said impatiently. ‘What about Alberich?’
‘He escaped too.’ Irene reminded herself that she was actively trying to be on better terms with Bradamant these days; plus Bradamant had a right to know, plus professional courtesy, et cetera. So she described recent events.
Bradamant nodded calmly as she listened, but her knuckles were white on the edge of her notebook. But when Irene described her recognition of Alberich, Bradamant nearly bent the book in half. ‘Why didn’t you just kill him?’ she demanded.
‘I did think about it,’ Irene admitted. ‘I just didn’t have the opportunity.’
‘Surely you could have tried a bit harder.’ Even in the dim light, Bradamant was white with fury. ‘Grabbed a crossbow off a guard, used a gun or dropped the ceiling on him.’
‘You tried shooting him in the head before. Remember?’ Irene recalled it perfectly well, and from the expression on Bradamant’s face, so did she. ‘Three shots. In the forehead. And all it did was stagger him for a moment. As it was, I provoked the most powerful mages in the empire to do their best, and all that did was make him retreat. I’m not sure what would kill him.’
‘Dragons?’ Bradamant suggested. This time she was looking at Kai.
‘There wasn’t time to call for assistance,’ Kai objected.
‘Let’s leave the blame till later,’ Irene said wearily. Was Kai now regretting that he’d wanted to avoid the local dragons? She might ask him later, but not in front of Bradamant. ‘This next bit’s more urgent.’ She ran through their conversation, and her deductions.
Bradamant was nodding by the end of it. ‘It makes sense. It has to be one of the people in that room. Someone in the Library could have found out where you were going . . .’ She had the grace to blush a little, perhaps remembering her past actions. ‘But in that case, they’d have known what book you were after. And as you’ve pointed out, that brings us down to the people in Vale’s rooms who saw the folder.’
‘And it’s the Fae, obviously,’ Kai said. ‘I don’t understand why the two of you are even considering anyone else.’
‘Simple logic makes Zayanna the most likely,’ Irene said, ‘but there’s the possibility that someone else was being manipulated. Or that we were being observed.’
‘Vale’s room being spied upon?’ Kai snorted. ‘You just don’t want to admit that the Fae—’
‘Excuse me,’ Bradamant cut in. She stared at Kai until he fell silent. ‘Thank you. Look, Irene, you need to do something about your friend Vale. When you have a spare minute, which admittedly isn’t now. I went to see him.’