The Burning Page

by Genevieve Cogman

  The explosion shattered the remaining glass in the windows and seared the air with a wave of scorching heat. Everyone in the room ducked, even Li Ming. Then there was silence, except for the clinking of broken glass falling to the ground.

  Muffled shouting started outside, with the thumps of people throwing open their own windows and leaning out to see what was going on, to complain, or both.

  Irene shook her hand, trying to work the vibration out of it. ‘I’m very sorry about your papers,’ she said inadequately to Li Ming. ‘I hope there was nothing too significant in there?’

  Li Ming looked wistfully in the direction of his attaché case, then shrugged. ‘Nothing too important,’ he said, and Irene couldn’t work out if he was being ironic or not. He continued, ‘Only some possible drafts for a treaty, in the event that the Library might wish to petition my lord and his brothers for protection. I take it that was Alberich’s interference just now?’

  ‘It was, yes,’ Irene agreed, part of her responding automatically while the rest of her mind registered that they had hit dangerous political waters. Throwing themselves on the mercy of the dragon kings was certainly an option for the Library, in terms of sheer survival. But it would mean they’d lose their all-important neutrality. However nicely the dragon kings might put it, from that point onwards the Library would be their dependant. And however much autonomy might be promised in those treaties, at some point the Library would end up taking orders.

  She glanced across and saw Kai frowning, clearly going through the same mental calculations. She couldn’t really blame the dragon kings for taking advantage of the situation. It was the practical, politically sensible thing to do. That was how rulers reacted when they saw an opportunity. But that also put limits on what she could expect from Li Ming, here and now, in terms of help against Alberich . . .

  Also, how much had Alberich seen just now? She didn’t know how much the person on the far end of this sort of connection – whether it was the Library or Alberich – could pick up from the other side. Maybe Alberich could merely sense she was present, and his actions were the metaphysical equivalent of tossing a grenade into the room. Or maybe Alberich could actually see who else was present. Such as Zayanna. In which case . . .

  Irene swore, ignoring the looks of shock from all the men in the room, who apparently either considered her to be above such things or refused to admit such words existed. Then she grabbed Zayanna’s shoulder. ‘Zayanna. Can you get me to Alberich’s sphere? Right this minute?’

  Zayanna blinked in confusion. ‘Well, possibly, yes, darling, but why the hurry?’

  ‘Because I don’t know whether or not Alberich could tell you’re here. He targeted that effect on me.’ Irene pointed at the window through which she’d thrown the papers. ‘If he knows you’re here as well, if he realizes you’re sharing his plans—’

  ‘But I had to, you threatened to kill me . . .’ Zayanna protested.

  ‘Whatever. You did tell us, and he won’t care why. Now we know what’s going on; and if he finds out, he’ll find some way to stop us. And your life will probably be short and interesting, but mostly very, very short.’ Irene turned to the others. ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t think we have a choice. Zayanna’s going to have to take us here and now.’

  ‘Irene,’ Zayanna said quietly. ‘I think this is an absolutely thrilling idea, darling. And you’re absolutely right that Alberich will kill me horribly, if he realizes I’ve talked – or even that I might tell you anything at all, once he realizes I’m not already dead. But there is one tiny little problem with your plan.’

  ‘Which is?’ Irene said through gritted teeth.

  ‘It’s the us idea. I can get to Alberich’s sphere, and I can probably take one person with me, but that’s all.’ She spread her hands in apology. ‘Darling, I’m not Lord Guantes or Lord Silver, or anything like that powerful.’ If I was, I wouldn’t be in this situation went unsaid but understood.

  ‘Then you take me,’ Kai said, stepping forward.

  Li Ming’s, ‘No, your highness!’ clashed with Irene’s, ‘Certainly not!’ and Zayanna’s own, ‘Impossible.’

  Irene gestured at Kai to stop him protesting, and said to Zayanna, ‘Why impossible?’

  ‘He’s a dragon,’ Zayanna said. ‘He’s harder to move. I don’t even know if I could take him at all. And I don’t think he’d like the level of chaos there, anyhow.’ Her smile wasn’t pleasant.

  ‘So I go there myself—’ Kai started, then came to a stop. Irene remembered how he’d travelled between worlds. It was entirely different from the way they’d travelled with the Fae before, and he knew it. How would his method of travel mesh with Zayanna’s own technique – and how would he know where to go, without her leading the way?

  Kai and Vale exchanged glances. Singh saw it and said, ‘Mr Vale, surely you can’t be considering—’

  ‘He won’t,’ Irene said. ‘Vale, I value your abilities, but if only one of us can get to Alberich’s sphere, then I’ll be able to do more there than you will. I’m the one who’s going.’ She offered Zayanna her hand. ‘And we’d better be going now, rather than standing around talking.’

  Kai stood there fuming, obviously considering the idea of simply knocking Irene over the head or holding her down, rather than letting her waltz off on such a suicidal proposition. ‘This is quite possibly a trick, so that she can lure you out there and claim credit for your capture,’ he said, with surprising control.

  ‘Is it?’ Irene asked Zayanna.

  ‘I won’t deny that I thought about it,’ Zayanna said. ‘But would Alberich actually believe it, or would he simply kill us both on general principles? Darling – darlings—’ Her gesture took in the whole room. ‘I swear that I’ll just take Irene here to Alberich’s sphere and I’m not planning to sell her off to him, or anything.’

  The word sell drew a twitch from Kai. No surprise, given how it had nearly once happened to him. ‘And are you telling the truth about only being able to take one person?’ he demanded.

  Zayanna put one hand on her heart, and took Irene’s hand in the other. ‘I am. I swear it.’

  While the two of them were glaring at each other, Irene had formulated a plan. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it would have to do. ‘Kai, there is something I specifically need you to do.’

  ‘What?’ Kai asked suspiciously.

  ‘This isn’t just me trying to get you out of the way so I can run off into danger,’ Irene said. The way he avoided her eyes told her that he’d been imagining exactly that. ‘I need to get this information to other Librarians. You can do that for me.’

  ‘But I can’t reach the Library,’ he pointed out. ‘You’ll need to get me in there.’

  ‘Kai, you’re being deliberately obtuse.’ Irene could hear the edge to her voice and made herself calm down. It wasn’t easy. Panic at what she was about to do was nibbling at the edges of her control. ‘You said you could find me in different alternate worlds, a few days back. Well, you know Coppelia, and Bradamant told us she was out on assignment. Go find her. Go and find all the Librarians possible, whether they’re students or full Librarians.’

  ‘I know you better than them, so you’re easier to find,’ Kai said flatly. ‘You are deliberately trying to get me out of the way. I won’t accept this.’

  ‘Do you have a better idea?’

  ‘I’m sure she can work out some way of taking me along.’ Kai’s glance at Zayanna was almost as unfriendly as the look she gave him in return. ‘Just because she says I’m harder to move doesn’t make it impossible. The important thing is to reach Alberich’s sphere.’

  ‘Which is high-chaos by its nature,’ Irene burst out in exasperation. ‘Weren’t you listening? Kai, you’re a dragon, that is the last place you can go.’

  ‘Miss Winters is quite correct.’ Li Ming had come up to flank her supportively. ‘Your highness, surely you must see how it would look if Miss Winters took you into a high-chaos world. You’d barely be able to mainta
in your true form there, let alone help her. Worse still, she’d be doing it purely in order to support her own faction. Your uncle would disapprove. Your father would condemn it.’

  Kai opened his mouth, then shut it again. Vale and Singh were talking in the corner, their voices lowered, and even though she couldn’t make out what they were saying, it was fairly obvious that Singh was doing his best to talk Vale out of a proposition, and it wasn’t hard to guess what.

  Sorry, Vale. This is one trip that you can’t secretly infiltrate in disguise.

  ‘We have to go,’ Irene said. She was trying not to think about the main reason she was hurrying: the longer she delayed, the more reasons she’d find why this was a bad idea. All the words she’d thrown at Bradamant earlier came back to echo at her now. Reckless. Foolish. Dangerous. Running off solo with a Fae whom she knew was untrustworthy, all the way into the private turf of the Library’s worst enemy, who already had a grudge against her . . . Possibly two grudges, depending on how Alberich felt about that business at the Winter Palace. It could hardly be worse.

  No, that needed rephrasing. It could be worse. This was a chance, an opportunity, but only if Irene took it now. She reached out to take Kai’s hand and squeeze it. ‘I trust you. Warn Coppelia, warn the others. When I get to Alberich’s sphere I’ll either force a passage to the Library so that we can bring in reinforcements, or I’ll find some other way to mark it and bring people back.’ She was aware that it might be impossible to reach the Library from high-chaos worlds, but that was just one more of the things she was trying not to think about. Another was whether she’d be able to function there herself. She’d soon find out.

  He returned the clasp. ‘Irene, do one thing for me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Tell me in the Language that you’ll come back.’

  Oh, unkind. She glared at him, but he wouldn’t release her hand. ‘Is this really necessary?’

  ‘It’d make me feel better.’

  ‘When did you get so manipulative?’

  ‘No doubt from watching his teacher,’ Vale commented. ‘Winters, this is a foolhardy enterprise, but I appreciate that you don’t have a choice. Telling us that you intend to return seems to be the least you can do to reassure us.’

  ‘I fully intend to come back to you. There, are you satisfied?’ Her words in the Language were a promise to herself as much as to them. She would have liked to complain that she didn’t know why they were so annoyed, for she was the one who was going into danger. But honesty compelled her to recognize that if they’d been the ones going, then she would have done her utmost to follow them. Honesty was most unhelpful: it got in the way of a satisfying whine of complaint at their overprotectiveness and made her feel like the one at fault.

  ‘Not remotely satisfied.’ Kai pulled her into a hug, his grasp almost tight enough to hurt. ‘I know I can’t talk you out of this,’ he murmured in her ear. ‘But when you get back, we are going to discuss the future.’

  Irene sighed, returning the embrace, trying to convince herself that she was only doing it from habit and not because she actually needed the comfort. ‘Just make sure there’s brandy,’ she murmured back.

  Kai released her. But Li Ming was stepping forward, his face set in unusually stern lines. Ordinarily he was content – or at least seemed content – to be a figure in the background, merely offering Kai his advice. Maybe he had some vital suggestion to offer?

  ‘This is quite unthinkable, Miss Winters,’ he said. The room was abruptly colder, and the ether-lamps whined in their sockets like dying flies as they flared bright and translucent. ‘You cannot possibly go.’

  That was not a helpful suggestion. ‘It seems the best option,’ Irene began.

  Li Ming made a brief cutting gesture with one hand. It would have suited a judge’s pronouncement of a guilty verdict. ‘The Fae’s untrustworthy. Even if she swears she’s telling the truth, she’s not reliable. You’re risking yourself and all those who depend on you. My lord would not approve of your taking this step. I don’t approve of it.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Irene said. ‘I appreciate your opinion, but—’

  ‘This is no longer a time for courtesy.’ The familiar scale-patterns flowed across Li Ming’s skin like ice on the surface of a river. The windows rattled as the wind rose outside. He was beautiful, remote, untouchable and utterly certain of what he was doing. ‘I will not permit this folly to take place.’

  ‘That’s not your decision to make,’ Irene snapped.

  ‘Any rational being has a right and a duty to stop you committing suicide.’ The cold wind had a biting edge now, harsh with the taste of oncoming winter and frozen streams. Irene had never really wondered how powerful Li Ming might be. He’d always been acting the servant or the counsellor, staying in the shadows. That might have been a serious mistake on her part. ‘You are a junior servant of the Library. This duty should be left to others. My lord would forbid you to take this action. Your highness, help me restrain her.’

  Zayanna was shivering, folding her arms around herself. Rage warmed Irene: she looked sideways to Kai, letting him respond.

  But Kai hesitated.

  Irene realized how clear it must seem in his eyes. The logic would be beautifully tempting. Irene was endangering herself: her judgement was faulty, her assessment of the situation incorrect. He should stop her for her own good. He would be serving the Library by keeping her safe. It all made sense, and it was still the most profound sort of betrayal that he should even be thinking it, that he could look at her and entertain those thoughts and not be ashamed.

  Irene turned to Li Ming. ‘You may try to restrain me,’ she said, her voice as cold as the rising wind. ‘You will not succeed. I must be on my way. Zayanna.’ She grabbed the Fae’s wrist.

  Li Ming nodded, as if he wasn’t surprised, and extended a hand to grasp Irene’s shoulder.

  Kai caught his wrist a moment before Li Ming touched her. The chill that sheathed Li Ming’s hand brushed Irene’s skin like fresh snow, and she pulled away, dragging Zayanna with her.

  ‘Wait,’ Kai said, and all the subtones of hierarchy and command were suddenly in his voice. But he was saying it to Li Ming, not to her. ‘She has my permission to do this.’

  ‘Your highness, this is folly . . .’ Li Ming protested. Irene glanced over her shoulder as she and Zayanna hurried to the door and saw that even though neither dragon moved, they were locked in position as they struggled against each other. This wasn’t mere courtesy. It was two forces of nature, both looking less human by the second, as scales marked their skin and their eyes gleamed draconic red. The wind outside howled, denied its target.

  Irene didn’t waste any more time. With a nod of farewell to Vale and Singh, she was out of the room and rattling down the stairs, Zayanna right behind her.

  The street outside was full of wind: it rolled through like a physical thing, rattling windows and slamming shutters, ripping the fog away to show the lightening sky. Irene hadn’t let go of Zayanna, for fear that she might vanish around a corner and never come back. ‘So how do we get there?’ she asked.

  Zayanna sighed. ‘You take my hand and we walk, darling. Or perhaps we just keep on running. I can’t manage a horse, much less a carriage. I’m afraid it’s going to be tedious.’

  ‘You can tell me about Alberich’s sphere as we go,’ Irene suggested. They turned left down a dark side alley. It was the sort of place that Irene would normally avoid, but Zayanna sprinted down it without a moment’s hesitation.

  ‘It looks mostly like a library,’ Zayanna gasped. ‘I’m not sure whether it originally looked that way, if he made it look that way, or if it’s getting to look that way because it’s moving into the place of your Library. I told you that metaphysics really isn’t my thing. So confusing.’ She turned left, into another side street. This had slick grey concrete walls that reached further above their heads than should have been possible in that area of London. The wind had gone, and the air was still and
hot, stinking of oil.

  ‘Well, does Alberich have guards?’ Irene asked.

  ‘I didn’t see any.’ Zayanna frowned a little, a thin line between her elegant brows. She’d slowed her pace from a run to a fast walk. ‘I mean, there were a few people there, but they were just people. You know – or have you never been that far into chaos before? When you go too far in, normal humans don’t have very much real personality. They’re awfully responsive when they’re needed for background parts, but they don’t have much staying power, if you take my meaning. They’re not as meaningful to work with as other Fae, or even dragons or Librarians like you.’

  Irene mentally shuddered at the thought. People with no genuine personality of their own, simply walk-on scenery or character parts for Fae psychodramas. ‘You should be careful,’ she said sardonically. ‘At this rate you’ll be convincing yourself that if the Fae did win, and chaos took over all the worlds, you’d still ultimately have lost – by missing out on all those interesting interactions with other people. It sounds rather self-defeating.’

  ‘Maybe, darling, but we’re hardly the only contradictory ones.’ Zayanna turned left again, her frown deeper. They were walking between grey stone walls, the cobbles beneath their feet damp with the morning dew. Lilac overhung the walls, its scent sweet in the morning air. ‘What was Li Ming saying about places which are so orderly and mechanical that even dragons or humans can’t exist? People do keep on talking about wanting a war, so that their side will win. But ultimately all they really want is for their side to be a bit better off. Nobody wishes for their side to triumph completely.’ She paused, considering that statement, and clarified it. ‘Nobody sane, that is.’

  ‘Ay, there’s the rub,’ Irene muttered. She tried to remember where in Shakespeare that was from. Hopefully not one of the tragedies. ‘I wish I was simply back amongst the books again.’

  ‘We could go hunting books after this,’ Zayanna suggested. ‘We’ll steal them from that silver dragon’s private library—’