by Karen MacRae
Elona crumbled the remains of biscuit in her fingers then and slammed her hands on the table. A jug of fruit juice toppled and spilled its contents all over the floor. The librarian jumped and took a step back as the tall woman walked around the blood red stain towards him, her anger on full show. “I thought this was the best library in the world. I thought that Professor Sifry was someone this library would wish to support in his essential work.”
“It is, mistress, I swear. We do, mistress, with all our hearts. He’s almost a god here,” Leo spluttered.
Elona’s voice dropped an octave. “Then get him what he wants.”
The librarian ran out of the room.
Elona paced up and down as Sifry slept, ignoring the mouse who came in to clean up and then bring new refreshments. Her mind was fully engaged with trying to come up with a way to salvage the situation, but there was no point in her even attempting to find the books if the librarians themselves couldn’t. But Nystrieth would be incensed if they failed; she had to do something. She flung open the door to look for someone in lilac robes. A girl was just coming out of another study room. “You there!” Elona shouted. “Get me Leo. Now!”
She was ready to tear off limbs by the time the boy arrived. “I want everything you’ve got on peristone, especially anything that references black peristone. I am not going to sit here twiddling my thumbs while you get your act together.” He didn’t move quickly enough for her. “Now!” she snapped. He ran off, terrified of this yellow-robed beauty who acted as if she’d as soon eviscerate you as look at you.
Books began arriving within minutes. Within ten, there were one hundred and eleven books on the table and the numbers were still rising.
“Stop!”
The librarian froze halfway out the door.
“Which of these mention black peristone?”
“They all do, mistress.”
“Which of these mention Aura Shaping?”
“All but the two piles on the left, mistress. I was going to explain the way I’ve categorised them when I finished bringing them all in, mistress.”
“Restrict your enthusiasm purely to books that substantially refer to black peristone and aura shaping for now, Leo,” Elona said, a little calmer now she seemed to be getting somewhere. “Carry on.”
She picked up the uppermost book from the furthest pile and looked at the contents page. There was no mention of the rare stone. She flicked through the well-thumbed pages, but nothing jumped out at her. The next book was the same and the book after that. She threw it across the room, utterly frustrated. She needed Leo’s assistance.
“It would be helpful if you could open these books at the appropriate pages for Professor Sifry,” she asked politely when he next appeared.
“Of course, mistress. Anything to help.”
The librarian rushed over, put down the books he carried in a new pile and began to work his way through the piles. Elona was astonished at the young man’s memory. It was one thing to have a gift, but this was extraordinary. “Do you remember everything, Leo?”
“Only books, mistress. I am sadly limited.”
“I’m very passionate about my work, Leo. I’m sorry if I scared you. I’m grateful for your help.”
The librarian looked up and was dazzled. Her eyes were the most beautiful things he’d ever seen in his life. “You’re welcome, mistress.”
Suddenly the light went out of the blue and an icy sheen took over. He felt his stomach quake with anxiety.
“And the two missing books?” she asked in a worryingly calm voice.
He gulped. “They appear to be mistakenly on loan,” he admitted. “We’re having them retrieved.”
“On loan to whom?” she asked, fury in every word.
“Lady Kuri, mistress, the King’s Councillor.”
CHAPTER 18
T hree hours later, Elona was no further forward. Sifry had woken and babbled a load of nonsense to the young librarian who’d smiled uncomfortably and tried to ignore it as he opened the books to the page most relevant to their search. Leo’s dumbfounded response to the old man’s bellowed, “Allegorical truthfulness? Capricious campanological conventionalism!” had given her a silent giggle at least. She’d explained that the professor grew excited when he had a mental breakthrough. The librarian’s face had said it all. The whole thing was completely crazy.
What actually seemed to make the professor excited was needing to empty his bladder. Thankfully Elona had already dismissed the confused Leo before she’d had to drag the old man away from the window and direct him to urinate in a plant pot rather than try to shower the students sitting below. She’d cursed the person who’d thought to install glass that didn’t even open, no doubt to prevent the unscrupulous from flinging precious tomes outside, then chucked the rest of the fruit juice on top of the soaking soil. The combination might kill the plant, but she’d hoped it would make the air a lot more breathable.
Just as she decided to go looking for the librarian to demand an update on the missing books, the Kirklund woman made an appearance.
Her button nose quivered once then Elona saw her aura flush with pity and compassion as her brain deciphered the lingering scent in the room.
Professor Kirklund bestowed a small, understanding smile on Professor Sifry’s assistant then turned to talk directly to the great man, her face showing nothing of her deduction. “I’m afraid we have been unable to find Lady Kuri on campus or at home, Professor Sifry. It appears, therefore, that we have no option but to wait until her ladyship returns and finds our request for the books. It’s such a shame we didn’t have more notice of your arrival. We could have had all this sorted before you got here and not have wasted your valuable time.”
Elona itched to strangle the patronising, squeaky-voiced, head librarian, but Sifry appeared to be in a more conciliatory mood, using a surprisingly apologetic tone to tell her, “Prestidigitation personified.”
Professor Kirkland gave him a small nod of acceptance as if he’d made perfect sense and Elona decided strangling was too good for her.
“Lady Kuri is, of course, a member of the Inner Quorum and will be at tonight’s dinner. I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to return the books to the library when asked by such a remarkable man.”
“Serendipity appreciation curiosity.”
Elona would rather slash the King’s Councillor’s throat than beg her for a couple of books, but she could see no other option. She forced a polite smile on her face and pleaded Professor Sifry’s need to sleep before dinner as an excuse to escape back to Ebdry’s.
As soon as she got back, she ordered the two youngsters to check out Lady Kuri’s house in the Elements’ sector. They returned disheartened. The place was like a fortress. The next two hours were spent trying and failing to come up with fool proof ideas how to steal the books, assuming they were even there.
“Sifry’s credentials are impeccable. Why not just wait until Lady Kuri honours his request?” Ebdry suggested. “Unless she might know he’s Nystrieth’s father?”
Mystrim couldn’t resist the opportunity to boast. “Not a chance. Nystrieth never speaks of his past. Only a select few know who he really is.”
“How delighted his son will be to discover you have shared the information with us all,” Elona interjected, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She didn’t get a reply, but she enjoyed seeing Mystrim’s aura redden with anger and fear. She turned her mind back to the problem at hand. “She knows our master needs those books so she’s not going to give them up unless I can persuade her that Sifry wanting them is a coincidence. We can’t wait indefinitely though. The longer we’re here the greater the risk of that do-gooder Braxton getting rid of the peristones on Shae. Nystrieth can do without the books, but he cannot do without the beads.”
She paced the room, then stopped abruptly, her decision made. “If I can’t persuade her to give up the books tonight, I can’t see we have any option but to leave Sifry here with Ebdry and pick him and
the books up after we’ve been to Shae.”
“What are the chances Kuri will recognise you,” asked Mystrim.
“I’m sure she’ll know of me, mage, but I’ve never met the woman. I’ll be on my best behaviour. She won’t work it out.”
Elona paced the room, her frustration building as she thought of not getting the books, having to almost nurse an old cripple and now having to kowtow to dozens of supercilious academics and a damned King’s Councillor. She picked up a tray of glasses and threw them against the wall, screaming her fury.
Ebdry was halfway out of his seat, his mouth open to remonstrate, when Mystrim shoved him back in his chair and shook his head in warning.
“Trust that imbecile Sesi to get herself captured!” Elona shrieked. “‘It’s such a shame we didn’t have more notice of your arrival, Professor Sifry’ that damned woman said to me in that stupid, squeaky voice. Argh! As if we didn’t think of that. We could have been here and left by now if that moronic, empty-headed, hoity-toity shell of a Channeller had an ounce of sense!”
“It didn’t help that you booked us passage with a load of double-crossers,” shouted Pyteor, his own frustration overflowing at the never-ending rain, how much better the local students were than he at Concealing, how even Sifry seemed to have a better gift than him, at the thought of getting on another boat and, worst of all, that it looked like he might be receiving Nystrieth’s condemnation rather than his praise. He felt like crying but had automatically picked a fight instead. Unfortunately for him, he’d picked the wrong opponent.
Mystrim and Nijel gasped at the Concealer’s stupidity. Elona pirouetted on the spot and began to advance on Pyteor, daggers appearing almost miraculously in both hands. He ran behind the large sofa. “I didn’t mean it, Elona. I’m sorry. It was just frustration speaking, I swear. The boat wasn’t your fault. It was that damned Cleish, the coward.”
Elona wasn’t listening. “You pathetic, good for nothing, blabbermouth wimp. I’ve had enough of your whining. I’m going to peel your skin and wrap you in your own intestines.”
“We need him, Elona,” Mystrim warned, deliberately cooling the air around the warrior in an attempt to break through her red mist. There was no stopping her. Pyteor desperately fumbled for his own dagger. He knew it was pointless, but he had to at least try to put up a fight.
“Putrefying monosyllabic codswallop!” shouted Sifry at the top of his voice. Elona and Pyteor instantly froze in place, their mouths opening and closing like fish. “Developmental,” the old man said at a more normal pitch and with great satisfaction. He clambered out of his chair, stumbled across to his favourite cupboard, opened the door with his right thumb and peed all over the still sodden contents.
Professor Ebdry sighed. “Mystrim, it has been delightful to see you after all these years, but do me a favour? Next time, please don’t bring your friends.”
Mystrim had the grace to look embarrassed. Nystrieth would kill the lot of them for their ineptitude if He heard of this shameful last few days. Best He didn’t. In which case, they had to get the peristones and both books. Unless he could lay the blame solidly on Elona’s shoulders, it was the only way he’d survive the debrief.
“Nijel, get some help to get Elona up to her room and do whatever’s necessary to improve her mood,” the weather mage ordered. “Be aware of the time though, she has to leave in two hours. Pyteor can stay put until Sifry’s order has worn off. It never lasts for long.”
Ten minutes later, Pyteor finished the grovelling sentence he’d been mid-way through then stopped in confusion. He looked around and realised with enormous relief that Elona was nowhere to be seen. His legs gave way and he caught the back of the sofa to stop himself falling. To his eternal shame, he realised he had tears in his eyes.
“You owe Sifry your life, Concealer. Best not forget it,” Mystrim told him, his voice reproving.
Pyteor looked over towards the crackling fireplace where Mystrim and his old friend were sitting comfortably next to a snoring Sifry. Pyteor could think of nothing to say. He nodded, but the friends ignored him, returning instead to discussion of the supporters Edbry had been quietly recruiting since he’d been persuaded of the enormous power he’d be granted in Nystrieth’s new merit-based society. Pyteor took a seat then listened in amazement as Edbry droned on about how much the Emperor would benefit from his sage advice and how He would be forever grateful to Mystrim for introducing Him to such a great mind. Pyteor knew for certain that Nystrieth would lose patience with the man after mere seconds. Rather than irreplaceable, wise counsel, Edbry was going to be cat food. The thought cheered him up immensely.
The Concealer’s improved mood began to falter as dinner time approached, but the ever-mercurial Elona actually smiled at him when she came into the room, ready to escort Professor Sifry to the Inner Quorum offices. His relief was soon replaced by anger when Nijel came in behind her and made a point of grinning right at him. The Healer’s expression made it quite clear who he had to thank for cheering the woman up. He scowled and mentally added another reason to get even with the arrogant teenager one day.
Sifry, Ebdry and Elona left in a carriage shortly afterwards, Mystrim, Pyteor and Nijel following a little way behind. Sifry waved out the window despite the absence of adoring fans. Elona considered pulling the crippled hand inside, but decided it wasn’t worth the risk of being immobilised again, or worse. As the chair neared the Hub, she slipped the small vial of undiluted crimwort from her pocket and dribbled a few drops onto Sifry’s lips. He licked away the sweet fluid quite happily.
The trio was escorted into a luxurious dining room filled with ornate flower arrangements, clinking glasses of bubbling wine and an assortment of esteemed guests mingling and chatting loudly over a group of Musicians who played in the far corner. Sifry stopped as if dumbstruck and began to shuffle across to them. Elona tried to pull him back towards the still open-armed Vice Chancellor Douglas and open-mouthed Ebdry, but the old man began to sit down right there on the floor in the middle of the entrance. She let him go and directed a charming smile at the Vice Chancellor. “Professor Sifry finds music very distracting, milord. It fills his mind to the exclusion of all else.”
Douglas looked alarmed at the sight of Sifry’s shuffling slowly away from them and clapped his hands loudly. “Take a break,” he ordered the Musicians loudly.
Sifry stopped shuffling and Elona grabbed his arm. He looked bereft. “Perhaps we could sit, Vice Chancellor? Professor Sifry’s legs are somewhat frail.”
“But of course!” replied Douglas, dismissing Ebdry with a condescending nod then leading the pair to the nearest chairs. He talked the whole way and didn’t stop when they sat. “Eduin, my dear fellow, what a delight it is to see you again after all these years! The Chancellor will be devastated to learn he missed your visit. But I must tell you all about my latest work. It’s called Lessons from Munagra so I know you will be fascinated to read it.” Much to Elona’s relief, the man didn’t pause for breath, instead providing Sifry with a blow by blow account of his sources, key findings and all sorts of other stuff Elona didn’t understand. Sifry, doped up on crimwort, happily nodded along without following a word.
An elderly, red-robed woman in a shiny black dress interrupted. “Vice Chancellor, you must not monopolise our guest!” she rebuked Douglas. “I’m sure you must have told Professor Sifry all about your book in your frequent correspondence with him.” She gave a small smile when she spotted a tint of pink in Douglas’ cheeks, the supposed closeness of his relationship with Sifry neatly exposed as a lie. The Vice Chancellor gave up his seat, internally cursing the mathematics professor.
“Ah, Eduin, it has been such a long time. Do you remember my voice if not my aged face?”
Elona was astonished to see lust flush through Sifry’s aura. Somehow through the crimwort fog, this woman had prodded a memory of yesteryear. It certainly couldn’t be a response to her now wrinkled and drooping face and body even if liberally sprinkled with a
musky, ‘come hither’ perfume.
“Do you think you could give us a minute, my dear?” the woman asked Elona.
“I’m sorry, milady, but the professor has lost the power of sensible speech. I’ve learned to interpret for him, however, and am sworn to secrecy.”
“Oh, Eduin, I am so sorry to hear you have been so afflicted.”
“Becoming pontification,” said the professor with a yearning tone in his voice.
“He remembers you well, milady, and with great… em, fondness,” Elona told the woman.
The red-robed professor cackled quietly. “It was an extraordinary year. We’d spend the whole day working and then dive into bed. How we survived with so little sleep, I have no idea. We’re both rather too old for it now, though, eh, Eduin? Such a shame, it’d be nice to shock this boring congregation. If only they knew, eh? We always did like to stir things up, didn’t we, darling?” She gave a surprisingly sultry laugh and Sifry’s lust went off the scale.
“Transportation,” nodded the old man before leaning in to put his arms around her neck and pulling her into a deep kiss.
Elona wondered how much Sifry had actually understood, but there was no doubting either party’s enthusiasm. Elona noticed all conversation had stopped. She looked away from the extraordinary sight to see a sea of stunned faces staring openly at the couple.
The two aged lovers reluctantly parted and the mathematics professor cupped her old admirer’s face with her hand. “Ah, Eduin. Thank you. You’ve made an old woman very happy.” She turned to look at Elona. “In those days, his body was every bit as brilliant as his mind, you know. He was quite the catch. But I mustn’t hog his time. Others are waiting.” And with that, she gave Sifry a quick peck on the cheek and walked away. The gawking onlookers closed their mouths and made way for her in something close to awe.
Elona saw a couple of arms reach out to pull the woman over to no doubt begin an interrogation, but she avoided them neatly. The crowd closed behind her and Elona realised someone else had taken the chair next to Sifry. Not that the accountant was listening to the man’s monologue. He seemed to be in a reverie, lost somewhere in his past. Complicated ripples and waves of colour ran through his aura in a series of baffling calculations. It was way beyond her Reading ability. Thankfully, he seemed quite content.