‘It isn’t a camp, it is a village.’ That was Meriall, standing arms-folded a couple of feet away from Gio and scowling mightily upon him. ‘Camp sounds haphazard, disorganised and temporary, none of which we are.’
Gio sighed. ‘Apologies. I translocated into the centre of your lovely village.’
‘Most of us have never met Lokants before, Gio,’ I told him. ‘You shouldn’t take my familiarity as characteristic of everyone.’
‘So I have learned.’ He fixed his pretty eyes upon me with a beseeching expression. ‘May I please be introduced to your fine friends? And if you would be so kind as to reassure them so they won’t kill me, that would be wonderful.’ He gave me a big, hopeful smile.
‘Gio,’ I said in an unfriendly voice. ‘Are you trying to charm me into charming my friends for you?’
His smile disappeared. ‘Well, I… yes, actually.’
I glared at him. He had kicked up a ruckus and the upshot of it was that Sigwide was awake. His first deep, proper sleep in days, and Gio had ruined it with his carelessness! I clutched Siggy closer, stroking his fur, and wrapped a section of my loose shirt around him.
I glanced at Meriall, who could have vouched for Gio as well as I could. But the closed expression of her face told me she had no such intention.
It would have to be my job, then. So be it.
‘Everybody, this is Gio. We’ve met before. He’s a Lokant and they do weird things like that all the time. He probably isn’t here to kill any of us.’ Probably. I was still by no means certain that he wasn’t the author of all our troubles, utilising some shifty, nasty Lokant art (or machine) to wipe out our draykon fellows. But in fairness to him, he had never given me any solid reason to imagine him guilty of the crime, either.
With these words I strode past him, on my way to fetch some more food for Siggy. Which was much more important.
‘Um,’ Gio said as I passed him. ‘What do you mean, probably?’
‘I mean you are still an unknown quantity and a highly suspicious figure and I cannot say for certain that you’re safe to be near.’ I let him trail after me, unwilling to pause to talk to him. ‘I am also well aware that translocation requires prior preparation, by the way. When did you mark yourself a travel-point in the middle of Nuwelin?’
He hesitated. He was probably wondering how much of a lie he could get away with, I thought sourly.
‘Um, before I met you the first time,’ he admitted at last. ‘I just, um, wanted to be able to return easily.’
‘Before you even spoke to me?’ I stopped then, aghast, and stared at him. ‘What if I had told you to get lost, the way I wanted to?’
‘Er. I was hoping you wouldn’t.’ He gave me those damned beseeching eyes again. If anything, they’d actually grown bigger and twice as soulful in the last couple of minutes.
‘Setting that aside for a moment,’ I said. ‘Why the middle of my village? Wouldn’t you more reasonably have chosen a spot a more discreet distance away?’
He looked down, shamefaced. ‘It’s hard to explain.’
I took a deep breath to control myself. ‘I have just vouched for you before my entire village. Grudgingly, perhaps, but I did it. That means you now have access to our tiny community and they will, in time, accept you. If I have done that only to find that you are a traitor after all…’
I didn’t know how to finish that sentence. I wanted to remind him that Nuwelin looked peaceful enough as a small gaggle of humans, but we were draykoni to a man (and woman) and more than ferocious enough to defend ourselves when roused. But it immediately struck me how futile a threat that was. How could we pose any meaningful menace to somebody who could disappear with a stray thought?
‘It’s… comforting,’ said Gio, eyes still fixed upon the floor.
‘What.’
‘Your village. Nuwelin. It is a comforting place and I like being here.’ He looked up and met my eyes at last, and this time I saw more sincerity there than I ever had before. I think it cost him something to say those words. ‘My home is… isn’t… it’s not like this.’
I hated the way my heart thawed on the spot, for what if he was lying? He could be. Easily.
But I couldn’t help responding to the vulnerability he’d shown, and the admission of such a simple and essentially endearing need. Nor could I help being touched by the implied compliment to Nuwelin. We have a hard task, here, but we are doing it with as much trust for each other and compassion and hope as we can muster between us, and I love to hear that it shows.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on Gio.
‘All right,’ I said, a little reluctantly but the words came out intact. ‘We’ll let it go. Did you come here with news for me?’
He smiled and held up something that looked like a badge. It had a symbol on it that I did not recognise: some kind of stylised plant bearing a single orange fruit. ‘I did.’
‘What’s that?’
‘It’s a pass! To Estinor Library.’
‘To where…?’
‘To my, uh, grandfather’s Library. Limbane’s.’
I squinted at the badge. It didn’t look very official. ‘Are you sure?’
‘No, well, this isn’t official. It’s just something I put together, I… thought it might be fun.’ He put the badge back in his pocket, looking abashed. ‘Um, an official pass would hurt more.’
‘Oh?’
‘It would have to be implanted.’
‘Let’s… not do that.’
Gio nodded agreement. ‘I can get you there. And straight back, with my handy travel-point right here.’ That winsome smile emerged again, with perhaps a hint of smugness around the edges. He knew he’d got me on that one. ‘When would you like to go? I would advise soon, because Limbane’s absent for a bit and it’s quiet out there.’
‘We’d like to go at once!’ I enthused. I had been afraid that Gio would fail on his promises, and felt elated that he had come through. It was a shame that Limbane wasn’t around, as I still wanted to interrogate him. But then again... perhaps it wasn’t.
Here is how my projected conversation with Limbane goes in my head:
Me: Hello Limbane! Do you happen to know how to kill a draykon? Permanently?
Limbane: Why yes, I do. Let me tell you all about it.
Me: Super! And, er, have any of you been using it a lot lately?
Limbane: How did you guess? Let me tell you all about that, too!
Here is how it would probably go in reality:
Me: Hello Limbane! Do you happen to know how to permanently kill a draykon?
Limbane: I have never heard of any such thing.
Me: Really? But you said—
Limbane: Really. Now get out of my Library.
Maybe a bit of exploratory investigation in his absence is a good place to start.
‘We?’ said Gio, blinking.
‘Me and Pense and Ori. Meri might like to come, I don’t know about Ny—’
‘Wait, hold on.’ Gio held up his hands in a stop gesture. ‘There is only me to take us, so I’ll have to drag everybody along all by myself. Mighty as I am, I cannot hope to carry more than three there and back.’
‘Oh. Of course.’ I should have remembered that, for I had seen Eva travel that way many times and never with more than two or three passengers. ‘Me, Pense and Ori, then.’
‘Great. Fetch the team, and we’ll go.’
I beamed at him, and ran.
We assembled back at my house. I had not had to search far for Pense, because he had been following me — discreetly. Keeping an eye on Gio, of course. Ori, though, had given up on the dramatics outside and gone back to his books. I found him sprawled once more upon the floor, reorganising his bookmarks into some new, presumably more useful, configuration.
‘Adventure time,’ I told him, and hauled him up off the floor.
He bounced smartly to his feet, adjusted his rumpled shirt, attempted and mostly failed to arrange his hair, and nodded at me. ‘What’s it
to be? Exploration and espionage? Breaking and entry? Stealth and surveillance?
‘Dire peril in the pursuit of exciting heroics,’ said Pense.
Ori smiled, a trifle uncertainly. ‘Ah... really?’
‘No.’
I patted Ori on the back. ‘Dire peril in the pursuit of academic research, actually.’
Ori brightened at once. ‘Oh, that’s much better.’
Gio appeared at the door, somehow looking both smoothly composed and diffidently unsure of himself at the same time. ‘Are we ready?’
Ori surveyed Gio with interest, then raised an eyebrow at me. ‘Is this our tour guide?’
‘He’s taking us to Limbane’s Library.’
‘Mmm, there are lots of books there. Lead on, Gio my friend!’
I was amused by Ori’s enthusiastic acceptance of Gio. If he had felt any doubts in that direction before, they were all borne away by the promise of books. Ori would love anybody with access to a good library.
Gio looked startled by the word “friend”, and directed a hesitant smile at Ori.
Ori beamed back. ‘Books?’ he prompted.
‘Yes. Come with me.’ Gio held out his hands.
I took one of them, and Ori gripped the other. Siggy was installed in his carry pack and lay sleeping against my chest, a willing comrade due to being blissfully oblivious.
Pense, though, was slow to join us. Are you sure about this, Minchu? he said privately.
Hard to be sure, isn’t it?
He could be taking us anywhere at all. It could be a trap.
I know. But how else are we going to get the information we need? Nobody else can take us to any of the Lokant Libraries, not now that Eva’s given up her access.
He was silent. I watched his face, feeling torn myself. I wanted to trust Gio, not just because we needed him but because... I was starting to like him, a little bit. I hadn’t wanted to. His story was thin and I still hadn’t figured out what he really wanted from us. And he was a Lokant, which didn’t help, for they had never proved to be trustworthy. But his aloof composure seemed to hide the kind of vulnerabilities I could only sympathise with, and I found his uncertainty disarming. He never presumed, only… hoped. It was getting harder to maintain my suspicion, and most of my irritation with him had faded. I wanted him to be everything he said he was.
Are you coming with me? I said to Pense.
He joined me, reluctant but at least he came. He wrapped one strong arm around my waist, attaching himself to me. Always.
Gio nodded. His grip tightened upon my hand, the world shifted sideways, and we disappeared from Nuwelin in a nauseating rush.
We ended up in a dark, windowless box.
‘What is this?’ whispered Ori in disgust.
‘It is a maintenance closet,’ replied Gio.
‘A bit of warning would have been nice,’ Ori muttered. ‘You never know. Some of us might suffer from claustrophobia.’ His tone was sarcastic, but I suspect he spoke the truth, for I have never heard Ori sound so grouchy before.
‘Sorry,’ Gio replied as we strove to avoid jostling each other in the enclosed space. ‘It was the only place I could think of to bring you that wouldn’t attract notice.’
‘Is this really necessary?’ I said. Limbane might not be best pleased to find us wandering around in his Library, but was such extreme caution warranted? He wasn’t even home.
‘It would be better if we could complete this errand unobserved.’
I chose not to argue with him about his approach. After all, he must know Limbane better than we did. ‘Where is the door?’ I said. It was too dark in there to see anything.
‘Um.’ There came a hastily-suppressed clattering sound as Gio, presumably, embarked upon a hunt for the exit. The rest of us opted to stay where we were. The potential for disaster was far too high; knock one thing over in the crowded cupboard and everything else could topple with it, creating a terrific racket.
Then a set of hinges creaked and a thin line of light pierced the darkness. ‘Here it is!’ said Gio proudly.
Nobody answered him. We were too busy holding our collective breath, waiting to see if anybody was around to notice the closet door’s opening itself.
‘We can proceed,’ he said, throwing the door wide and stepping out into the corridor beyond.
We followed. Siggy shifted in his carry-pack and I soothed him, anxious to keep him calm. I couldn’t have him growing alarmed and trying to jump out. What if I lost him in this mystifying place?
I was immediately reminded of how disappointing the Libraries could sometimes be. They are some of the most remarkable structures in the known worlds; wonders untold emerge from their laboratories, and they possess caches of knowledge beyond imagination. Not to mention their curious ability to float just on the edge of time, barely touched by it, everything inside preserved far beyond any natural lifespan.
In spite of all this, parts of them resemble public and government buildings at home in the Seven: bland, featureless corridors with identical doors set into them and no features of interest whatsoever. We looked up and down the length of a particularly boring example, nonplussed.
‘Lead on,’ I said to Gio.
He nodded, but looked uncertain as he glanced about. I saw him visibly square his shoulders and then set off, his steps purposeful.
‘It is the chart room you want, yes?’ he threw back over his shoulder.
‘Yes!’ I had a mixture of feelings at that moment: some uncertainty on Gio’s account, and some trepidation, because there were a number of exciting ways in which the venture could go wrong. But at Gio’s words those doubtful emotions gave way to a surge of excitement. The chart room had fascinated me before, and I was delighted at the prospect of visiting it again.
I also had high hopes that we would, at last, discover something useful. I was beginning to feel that it would not take much to begin to make sense of the mess. We had assembled many pieces of a muddling puzzle, and perhaps we needed only a few more significant clues to resolve it into a coherent picture.
Gio led us with confidence and caution, a combination I approved of. We traversed several of those dull corridors, twisting and turning through a labyrinth I could not hope to comprehend. I wondered how Gio could find his way, familiar though he must be with the place.
We met no one at all, which began to trouble me as much as it reassured me. Was it usual for such a place to be so empty?
‘Almost there,’ said Gio after a while, which confused me still more, for I had seen nothing I recognised. Pense caught my eye, and I read a similar doubt in his face.
But then Gio stopped and opened a door, and there was the chart room, exactly as I remembered it. Gigantic, circular and distantly domed, its size was hard to fathom; I felt dwarfed the moment I stepped through the door. The walls were pale, and made of something I cannot name. If you think of the bulletin boards across the Seven and the way they change to display the latest news, you might be able to picture the chart room well enough. I have no idea if they are made of the same thing — in fact, I have no idea what the bulletin boards are made of in the first place, nor how they operate — but they strike me as similar. Flat, smooth and faintly shimmering, displaying information in constant flux.
That information is names. Thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands of names, all arranged in neat genealogical timelines. I presume it dates all the way back to the first draykoni, and presumably the first humans too.
Somewhere in there is my name, coloured in gold because I am draykoni. Eva’s and Tren’s names are up there too, in blue and purple and silver — all coded to indicate the different kinds of heritage they possess and the powers it bestows. I imagine that all the residents of Nuwelin are represented somewhere upon the walls. Of course, it would take about three weeks to find them all.
That wasn’t why we were there.
Gio shut the door behind us after we had all filed in, pausing to check the corridor once more before he did so.<
br />
‘Quickly, I suggest,’ he said, taking up a guard position near the door.
Quickly? I stared at those endless walls, feeling dizzy just looking at them. ‘All right, our objective,’ I said, forcing myself to think clearly. ‘We have the identities of three of the murdered draykoni: Pense’s friends Ludino and Myir, and Eterna’s mother. We need to find them all, and look for links between them. They are all Elders, so presumably we will find them nearer the top of the walls.’
This was broadly accepted, and we spread out. I pressed Gio into service as well, for there was little point to his standing guard. The best he could offer us would be a few seconds’ advance warning of somebody’s approach, and the room was far too big for that to be of any use. We could not hope to reconvene in time to escape before anybody approaching could open the door. Better to complete our errand as quickly as possible and get out.
One of the amazing things about the chart room is how you can manipulate the display. It responds to certain gestures, which Limbane taught us in days past. If I hold out my hands towards the walls and pull them downwards, the names will begin to scroll. The more sharply I do this, the greater the effect. By this means, I was able to access the beginnings of the timeline fairly rapidly, though it still took a minute or two to run through so many generations.
The names thin out very quickly at a certain point, and gold names crop up more and more frequently. Gold means that the person possesses enough draykon blood to shift. I noticed that the shades of gold altered, too, becoming brighter and purer the farther back I went.
At last, the scrolling stopped at a very sparse display: one pure gold name, with two others descending from it. It was not a name I recognised, but I had hit the beginning and found one of the very first draykoni — made, I suppose, in the Library of Orlind.
I ran the display sideways, more slowly this time, reading each name in hopes of encountering something familiar. But it was Ori who reported the first result.
‘Myir!’ he crowed. ‘Here she is. Golden as a sunny afternoon and splendidly alone up here.’
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