Kai sniffed. ‘I can smell food,’ he murmured.
‘The kitchens are down here, in the basements,’ Irene replied. It was a narrow staircase, and she had to pull in her skirts so that they wouldn’t brush the walls. ‘They should be over, um—’ She consulted her mental map. ‘West and north-west-ish. Thataway. We need to go north-east from here, heading under the church.’
As they hurried down the dark corridor, Irene pondered the likelihood of them getting stopped by guards. She was astonished they’d come as far as they had. True, the Winter Palace must be afflicted by the usual security blind spot, as in ‘the outer walls are well guarded, so anyone inside must belong there’. But even so, given the rumours of rebellion and secession, and the government crackdowns, shouldn’t there be a bit more security inside the palace? The further they went, the more nervous she became. She started to worry that they were actually being lured into some vast trap, and were being drawn well inside so that they’d have no chance of escape . . .
‘Stop right there!’ came an order.
It was almost a relief. Irene obediently stayed where she was, one hand on Kai’s sleeve. Only three guards defended the archive’s doorway, their ultimate goal – good heavens, what on earth were they thinking? Though to be fair, the door behind them did look heavily locked and barred.
‘Approach and identify yourself!’ came the next order.
Perfect. Irene walked forward. Even better, she could see which of the guards was clearly in command. She slipped a hand into her bodice, then withdrew it and showed it to the lead guard, as though she’d just pulled something out that only he should see. ‘You perceive that this is full identification, and that we are authorized to view the contents of this archive,’ she said.
The guard snapped into a terrified salute, his back straight with the rigidity of panic. The other two guards followed suit a moment later. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said quickly. ‘Absolutely, ma’am!’
‘You may open the door and assist me,’ Irene said briskly, wondering exactly who he thought she was. Probably Oprichniki. Only secret police get that sort of reaction. ‘Your men will remain outside. There’s no need for them to hear this.’
He nodded and pulled a key from his belt, which he quickly turned in the lock. There was a small noise, almost a sigh, from the door as he pulled it open. Irene suspected there had been some sort of magic alarm on it. Now, just so long as the guard stayed confused until they were inside . . .
They were into the next room, and Kai had closed the door behind them, before the guard shook his head and frowned. But Kai had been expecting that, and had him in a chokehold before he could raise the alarm. Irene left him to throttle the fellow into unconsciousness – there was no need to kill him, after all – and looked around. They were in a small anteroom, with another heavily barred door on the far side. All right, so the security wasn’t that laughable. There were rows of ledgers in bookshelves to one side, presumably with lists of items held in the repository beyond. And there was a little desk, with a woman in heavy robes trying to hide under it.
Irene walked over and leaned on the desk. ‘That’s not actually working, you know,’ she said gently.
The woman pulled herself upright, flinching back against the wall. ‘I won’t help you. I will defend this place with my life!’
Irene nodded understandingly. ‘That’s quite understandable,’ she agreed. ‘But you now perceive that I am someone who has a right to be here, and a right to be given the location of a particular item.’ Her head was starting to ache.
‘Oh.’ The woman stayed pressed against the wall. But she looked a little calmer now, as if Irene was a known and understandable threat, rather than something completely unpredictable. ‘Ah, what item would your excellency wish to see?’
‘A book,’ Irene said, daring to hope. ‘It’s called The Manuscript Found in Saragossa, and it’s by Jan Potocki. Where is it?’
The woman edged from behind her desk, staying on the opposite side to Irene, and hurried over to the ledgers. She pulled one out and leafed through it, muttering to herself. Her heavy embroidered sleeves swung as she turned the pages. She finally came to a stop and rested her finger on an entry. ‘Here it is – wait, who did you say you were again?’
Kai rapped her on the back of her neck and caught her before she could hit the ground, while Irene bent to look at the ledger. It was indeed an entry for the book they wanted, but as Irene read it she blinked in shock. ‘I don’t believe it,’ she said out loud. ‘It was released to the Empress herself two days ago, for personal bedtime reading!’
Kai propped the woman up against her desk. ‘Please tell me you’re joking,’ he said.
‘I wish I were.’ Irene weighed steal book from palace’s underground sanctuary against steal book from imperial bedroom. An imperial bedroom was probably even more heavily guarded than an underground sanctuary. Marvellous. ‘Well, we can’t just stand around here,’ she said with a sigh. ‘Let’s go and try again.’
‘How do you know it was for bedtime reading?’ Kai asked.
‘The lady in question signed it out herself. Apparently she has a sense of humour.’ Not that that was likely to save Kai or Irene’s necks, if they were caught mid-theft. ‘I almost regret accepting the mission now.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’m quite happy to steal a book from storage where nobody’s ever going to read it,’ Irene explained. ‘But I do feel a bit guilty about snatching it mid-read from someone’s bedside table.’
The guards on the door were only too happy to wave them past, after being told that their commanding officer was checking the security inside. Irene led the way back in the direction from which they’d come. ‘Back up the stairs,’ she murmured, ‘up to the first floor, then we take a run at the bedroom.’
‘That’s not a very detailed plan.’ But Kai wasn’t complaining, simply resigned.
‘There have been times when I had detailed plans,’ Irene said wistfully. ‘I look back at them and wonder why I never realized how lucky I was.’
They’d reached the ground floor and were heading for the stairway they’d descended earlier, when the same servant as before caught them. This time he had several other guests in his wake and was clearly chivvying them along. ‘Sir!’ he expostulated in Kai’s direction. ‘Her Imperial Majesty is about to give her address. You should be in the Great Hall.’
Kai glanced at Irene, and she read the same thought in his eyes. Better to go along and blend in with the crowd than make a scene. They could edge out later and get back to the search. And it really would be suspicious to be caught elsewhere in the Winter Palace while the Empress was giving a speech. ‘Thank you,’ he said to the man. ‘I was just heading in that direction. I take it this is the quickest way?’
The servant refrained from rolling his eyes at the boundless idiocy of the aristocracy and quickly led Irene, Kai and the rest of his flock down a succession of corridors, each more luxurious than the last. They accumulated more bystanders on the way, and Irene was grateful that she and Kai could hide in the middle of the growing crowd.
The Great Hall itself was vast: the floor consisted of inlaid marble mosaics, but the walls and ceiling were white and gold, as perfect as snow and sunlight. Huge blazing chandeliers hung from above, the candlelight glaring off the gilt so brightly that they were a challenge to behold. At the far end of the chamber, over fifty yards away, a throne on a raised dais was canopied and draped in scarlet. The silver dress of its occupant seemed to gleam with its own light.
Between them and her, the crowd shifted and jostled for position. Young maidens in their first season at court were in plain white, with ostrich feathers and flowers pinned into their hair, and huge masses of silk skirts. Older women like Irene, or married ones, wore pastels or deeper shades – and jewellery rather than flowers. Most of the men present were in military uniform, often with a dress sword hanging at one hip and a short staff at the other. A few were either in well-cut civ
ilian clothing, like Kai, or in robes that were somewhere between academic and ecclesiastical. Some older women wore those robes too, and Irene noticed that they generally stood apart from others of their gender. Around the edges scurried servants in the palace livery, but nobody was looking at them: all attention was on Her Imperial Majesty.
As the last group was shooed into the Great Hall, the Empress rose to her feet. Everyone went down on one knee, from the advisors surrounding her dais to the guards by the entrance. And it wasn’t just overdone obeisance, or the effect of magic. The Undying Empress, to give her the full title, had genuine presence and charisma. The loyalty that the crowd offered her wasn’t feigned. Irene had been in the presence of dragon kings and Fae lords, and while she wouldn’t rank this Catherine the Great’s authority on quite that level, she was still extremely impressive.
Fortunately the Empress wasn’t in the mood for a long speech. After a few firmly delivered statements about the unity of her empire, the loyalty of her subjects and her maternal love for said subjects, she resumed her seat. Everyone promptly rose to their feet, conversation broke out like wildfire, and the small orchestra in a corner of the room started playing.
‘Irene . . .’ Kai said hopefully.
The only way out of the hall was the way they’d come in. Well, there was another exit behind the Empress, but that wasn’t an option. And it would be too obvious if they tried to get away immediately. ‘We just circulate,’ Irene said firmly. ‘I’m not dancing unless we have to.’
Kai sighed and offered her his arm as they began to drift round the edge of the hall, catching snippets of conversation. While this included topics normal for any state occasion – upcoming wars, family history, possible betrothals, big-game hunting in Mongolia – there was a nervous edge to the talk. People weren’t precisely paranoid, but every so often spontaneous praise for the Undying Empress and her glorious empire would get thrown into the talk, as though it would grease the rest of the conversation and slip it past any listeners.
There was a noticeable gap in the crowd ahead of them. At the centre of it stood a man in formal clothing like Kai’s, having a casual conversation with some of the robed men and women. At least, it looked casual on his part. From their attitudes and posture, one might think it was a matter of life and death.
‘What do you think?’ Kai murmured. ‘High authority, definitely, but which area?’
‘Secret police,’ Irene answered. ‘Think nice innocent thoughts—’
She broke off as the man turned to sweep his gaze across the ballroom. He was nobody she’d ever met before. His flaxen-pale hair was cropped short and he was clean-shaven. And though he was middle-aged, he showed no signs of belly or jowls. His eyes were a clear grey, as cold as marble, and they looked out over the crowd with a glitter of absolute hunger: for power, for answers, for domination. But there was something about those eyes that she recognized, and she added it to the man’s posture, the way he tilted his head, the way he looked at her . . .
‘Alberich,’ she breathed, her throat dry with terror.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
He had stolen a new body, looked quite at home here and knew exactly who they were. Surely this was positive, Irene tried to convince herself, as she tried not to panic. It was an unparalleled opportunity to get information – maybe even to end the whole threat, here and now. She should think optimistically.
But cold dread ran the opposite way in her veins and spread ice round her heart. This was also an unparalleled opportunity to get killed, or worse. Alberich was as much above her as she was above the thugs they’d dodged in Poland, when they first entered this world. He was hundreds of years old. He’d betrayed the Library and learned the Fae’s darkest secrets. He skinned Librarians for fun and profit, and then wore their skins as disguises. He wasn’t careless. And if Irene had recognized him, then the odds were ten to one that he was prepared for that.
‘Irene,’ Kai murmured, reminding her of his presence. His muscles were tense under her arm. ‘Shall I take him down? If I reached him before he could react . . .’
‘Too obvious,’ Irene said regretfully. ‘He knows you’re a dragon, Kai. He’s not stupid.’
‘Oh yes, you did say he sold information about me to the Fae – and caused my kidnapping.’ Kai’s eyes were like dark ice. ‘But he might be overconfident. Shall I test that?’
Irene weighed the possibilities. An open assault on Alberich, against all his defences and in the middle of a hall full of soldiers and wizards, might well be suicidal. And she didn’t want to get herself killed. On the other hand, if it disposed of him and ended his threat to the Library, then it might be worth it. She’d refused Bradamant’s suggestion that they act as bait, because they didn’t have a good way to reach Alberich. Well, here he was, right in front of her. What was she going to do now?
She reached out and caught the arm of an older woman, a gaudy battleship in violet satin and diamonds. ‘Excuse me, madam,’ she said hastily, before the other woman could shake her off, and nodded towards Alberich. ‘Who is that gentleman over there?’
The woman went so pale that the rouge stood out on her cheeks in two scarlet spots. ‘You must mean Count Nicolai Ilyich,’ she said, trying and failing to sound casual. ‘I thought everyone knew who he was.’
‘We’ve just arrived from Paris. I don’t know anyone. Except the Empress, of course.’ Irene forced a laugh. ‘Is he someone important?’
‘He’s the head of the Oprichniki, and if you have any sense you’ll stay well out of his way.’ The woman shook Irene’s hand off her arm and sailed away, as fast as was commensurate with dignity.
Alberich was still watching, though he didn’t try to approach. A growing space was forming around Irene and Kai as well, probably because people could follow Alberich’s gaze and didn’t care to be associated with its target.
Irene took a deep breath. ‘Kai, I’m about to do something reckless,’ she said, ‘and I need you to be standing by as backup.’
‘No,’ Kai said flatly. ‘That is not going to happen. I will not let you do this.’
‘I’m not particularly wild about it either.’ That was the understatement of the decade. She’d rather walk up a volcano that was emitting little pre-eruption burps. ‘But he can use the Language as well as I can, if not better. And you know what I can do . . .’
Kai scowled, not even trying to hide his anger. ‘So you want me to stay out of range of his voice.’
‘I may need you to rescue me.’ She squeezed his arm. ‘I don’t trust just anyone to rescue me, you know.’
‘Besides, he can’t do anything dramatic to you without exposing himself, in a public place such as this,’ Kai said, coming to the same conclusion as Irene.
‘Yes, that’s rather what I’m hoping,’ she agreed. ‘And if you hear him yelling something like Guard, arrest these rebel spies! – then that’s the cue to run.’
Before Kai could delay her any further, she turned and walked towards Alberich.
Her curtsey was the polite dip and ruffle of skirts appropriate for a young woman when approaching a man of superior rank. There was certainly no genuine respect behind it. Alberich knew that, and Irene knew that he knew it. But she couldn’t risk being noticed as unusual. Yet.
‘As polite as ever,’ Alberich said. His voice had a different timbre from their last encounter, but of course he’d been wearing someone else’s skin that time. Some other victim who’d died so that he could disguise himself and use their identity. ‘I was afraid that you’d try and lose yourself in the crowd, Ray.’
Irene smiled sweetly, not wanting him to see how much his use of her birth name annoyed her. ‘But then I might have lost sight of you, Alberich. You’re far too dangerous for that.’
‘And you didn’t even bring me a glass of champagne.’
‘Oh, come now. You know I’d poison it.’
‘You must have so many questions.’ His thin-lipped smile cut across his face like a scar. ‘Why don’t y
ou ask some of them?’
‘Let’s be frank, shall we?’ There was no way of knowing whether or not he’d tell the truth. He might even be playing for time, simply keeping her busy until a trap closed on her. But possibly – just possibly – he was vain enough to boast, or careless enough to give something away. ‘Why are you here?’
‘To speak to you, of course.’ He spread his hands in mock confession. ‘All this way, just to talk to one little Librarian. I hope you aren’t going to waste my time.’
Irene ignored the threat. She was ignoring so many other possible dangers, so it was comparatively easy to add one more to the pile of Deliberately Burying Head in Sand and Hoping They’ll Go Away. ‘What I don’t understand, to be entirely honest—’
‘Oh, please be honest,’ Alberich cut in.
Irene smiled again, because it was that or glare back at him. Her fear hadn’t disappeared: it was a constant whisper at the back of her mind. But her anger let her keep her composure and snipe back at him, looking for an opening. It was the best argument she’d come across yet for the deliberate cultivation of certain deadly sins. ‘I’m not sure how you knew to be here,’ she finished.
Alberich looked pleased. ‘Now that is an intelligent question. You’re trying to find out how much I know, before deciding on a course of action.’
‘Well, wouldn’t anyone?’
He shook his head sadly. ‘You’d be painfully surprised. But in return for my answer . . .’ He glanced towards the couples currently occupying the central area, moving in pairs through the steps of a polonaise. ‘I believe I’d like a dance.’
Irene was momentarily taken aback. ‘Why?’ she demanded.
‘Mostly because it’ll put you off-balance and annoy your associate,’ Alberich replied. ‘You’re only irritated because you didn’t think of suggesting it first.’
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