The Burning Page (The Invisible Library 3)

‘It’s obvious that the man’s mad,’ Kostchei said. ‘He’s also a megalomaniac.’

‘Doesn’t that count as mad in any case?’ someone muttered in the seats behind Irene, then fell silent as Kostchei stared in his direction.

‘He believes the Library should take a more active role in influencing and controlling other worlds,’ Kostchei went on. ‘You all know that is not our role. We aren’t here to make moral judgements about the Fae, the dragons, or anywhere in between. We’re here to keep the balance, and let the worlds in between stay free. What Alberich wants is completely against our principles.’ His voice lowered to a growl, and he pulled at his beard as if it was a hangman’s rope. ‘We stand for preservation. We are not rulers. We are Librarians.’

‘Yes, but surely we can handle this in a more balanced way,’ Penemue said firmly. Her words came out with the smoothness of a prepared speech. ‘This is just one more case of a lack of communication, which has become far too common lately. The Library isn’t served by having the people who are supposed to be running it ignoring the input of a large number of the people who actually do the work. There have been plenty of previous cases of this. I know I’m not the only person here who—’

Irene wished, again, that she was sitting on the other side of the room. She didn’t want to seem associated with this faction. Which was no doubt why Penemue had arranged for them to sit together. She hated internal politics. Low-voiced conversations were breaking out among the listeners. Kostchei was lowering his head like a bull about to charge. The whole situation was about to degenerate into a list of complaints – and an argument between the elder Librarians and anyone who thought Penemue had a point. There wasn’t time for that. This was an emergency.

Irene desperately thrust her hand in the air.

‘The table recognizes Irene,’ Coppelia said.

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘I have some new information, which I haven’t had a chance to tell anyone else yet,’ Irene said. ‘This morning I received an urgent in-world message in the usual Library manner, but it was tainted with chaos. It said – in the Language – that the Library would be destroyed, and that I would be destroyed with it. That Alberich was coming. I’m guessing it was a message from Alberich himself.’

The gasps and muffled exclamations would no doubt have pleased Zayanna greatly. Irene gritted her teeth and focused on looking professional. ‘I was coming to report it, when I saw the message to attend this meeting.’

Kostchei tugged on his beard again. ‘The table recognizes Irene, Librarian-in-Residence on probation to alternate B-395. You are sure that this message was delivered in the Language?’ ‘Yes,’ Irene said. ‘Though it had a chaos aftertaste to it.’ She was conscious that the words on probation had affected the rest of the room. She was now officially unreliable.

‘Did it name you personally?’

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.’ o;Yes,’ Irene said. ‘Though it had a chaos aftertaste to it.’ She was conscious that the words on probation had affected the rest of the room. She was now officially unreliable.

‘Did it name you personally?’