‘For our own good?’ Irene said drily. There was no time for all these damned mysteries. She was the child of two Librarians, an unusual combination - was this supposed to make her better suited to handling dragons? She couldn’t see how.
Coppelia shrugged. ‘We make the best decisions that we can. Do you object to him?’
‘In what sense, object?’ Irene temporized. She knew she was avoiding the question, but she wasn’t sure of Coppelia’s meaning.
‘Has he given you any offence?’ Coppelia fired the question at her like a bullet.
‘He is courtesy itself,’ Irene said. ‘As you know.’
‘Has he done you any harm?’
Irene thought of Kai’s eyes, of his hesitation, his sincerity. He’d wanted to protect her, when it was her responsibility to protect him. ‘No, and you know it. Is it really necessary to get into all this, here and now?’
‘I’m establishing that you have no reason to want to get rid of him yourself.’
‘For pity’s sake!’ Irene exploded. ‘If you don’t trust me, then there’s nothing more to be said. Besides, please give me credit for some intelligence. If I was trying to kidnap him myself, I wouldn’t be in here telling you about it now.’
‘I have to be sure,’ Coppelia said. She shifted in her chair. ‘You have thought about how this may go?’
‘Well, yes,’ Irene said. She was still furious at Coppelia’s dig that she could have been in any way involved in Kai’s disappearance, but she managed to keep her temper. If Kai was in danger, then every second mattered. ‘Quite possibly, messily. As you did just point out, the dragons may be upset - and they might take it out on me.’
‘And the Library may have to allow it,’ Coppelia noted. ‘If it’s decided that you were responsible for him, and the dragons take offence, we might have to strip you of your position.’
A chill ran down Irene’s spine. ‘You wouldn’t,’ she said. But it had the truth of nightmares, of worst-case scenarios. ‘And the Library mark can’t be removed.’
Coppelia’s eyes were regretful, but her face was like stone. ‘My dear Irene, we can’t risk war over one dragon. Or over one Librarian. You’ve done an excellent job as Librarian-in-Residence, but when push comes to shove, someone will have to take the blame.’
‘I’m duly warned,’ Irene said flatly, ignoring the ice in her stomach. ‘Let’s get down to business. How do I contact his family?’
‘The easiest way would be via the world where we recruited him,’ Coppelia said. ‘Did he ever give you its designation?’
‘Only that it was one of the Gammas,’ Irene answered. ‘So high-tech and medium-magic, he said. Will I find his uncle there?’
‘With any luck. Or his uncle’s household, at least. I understand that he maintains an establishment there. The name he goes by is Ryu Gouen.’ She waited for Irene’s nod of comprehension. ‘Our Traverse to that world - it’s G-51, so you know - opens within the remains of the Biblioteca Palatina in Heidelberg. Ryu Gouen was in Europe at the last report a few weeks ago, so with any luck you shouldn’t have too far to travel. I’m told the high-speed rail network in that alternate is very good.’
‘Who’s our Librarian there?’ Irene asked. ‘I’m assuming there is a Librarian-in-Residence?’
Coppelia nodded. ‘Her name is Murasaki. However, I would prefer you to avoid contact with her - the less we all have to explain about Kai, the better.’
‘If I walk out of the Traverse and she’s sitting there, it’s going to be awkward,’ Irene said. She could see Coppelia’s point, but at the same time it would make her life a great deal easier if she could get immediate help with crossing a strange new Europe. And clothing. And money.
‘If you do, then make some sort of excuse.’ Coppelia snorted. ‘Claim you’re on a shopping mission for me, if you can’t think of anything better. Well? Any more questions?’
‘Yes. The Guantes. Do you know anything about him, or them?’
‘Unfortunately not.’ Having to admit to ignorance clearly irritated Coppelia. ‘I’ll enquire further, but it may take time. And I’ll see if anyone knows anything about ongoing Fae power struggles. Anything relevant, that is.’
There was one more thing that Irene wanted to ask. ‘Can Alberich reach me there? In G-51?’
Perhaps now wasn’t the time for private fears, but she had to know. Alberich was a nightmare figure, the Library’s most powerful traitor - also a murderer and an abomination. And a few months back she’d confronted him and won. He’d been barred from Vale’s world as a result, and he couldn’t access the Library, but the thought of going somewhere that he could find her chilled Irene to the core. And the scars across her hands ached in response. It was bad enough that he killed people, but what he did to them first was worse.
Coppelia regarded her thoughtfully, and Irene wondered if she was going to get a comforting lie to keep her on-mission. Finally Coppelia said, ‘It would be physically possible for him to enter that world. But he has no way to track you, no reason to assume you will be there—’
‘Unless he’s behind Kai’s kidnapping,’ Irene suggested.
‘If he were,’ Coppelia stressed the word, ‘then he would probably have kidnapped you as well. Eight out of ten for raising the hypothesis, but four out of ten for failing Occam’s Razor and multiplying the possibilities too far. Now as I was saying, Alberich has no reason to assume you’ll be there. It’s also a high-law, low-chaos world, so it’s anathema to the likes of Alberich, who’s tied in with the Fae. Though that is probably why the order-loving dragons frequent it. Nowhere except the Library is entirely safe, but it’s probably on the safer side of things.’
Irene nodded, but a shadow of dread remained. ‘That makes sense,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’ However, she knew Alberich would haunt her dreams for a long time to come.
‘For the moment I think that’s one trouble you can leave out of things,’ Coppelia said briskly. A clock chimed the hour from a hidden shelf, and both she and Irene glanced towards it. Time was moving on. Coppelia turned back to Irene. ‘What do you propose to do after contacting Kai’s family?’
‘Whatever the situation demands,’ Irene said firmly. She took a deep breath. ‘I’ll contact you, if it seems appropriate.’
‘And your desire to make your own decisions wouldn’t be relevant here?’ Coppelia grinned coldly. It showed her age. Her normally serene face, an example of growing old gracefully, was for a moment a mocking, judgemental skull.
‘Kai’s safety comes first. And my wish to do things “my own way” will never get in the way of that,’ Irene said. She took a step forward. ‘You put him in my care, so I’m responsible for him. Just let me go and do my job.’
The study seemed very quiet after her outburst. Coppelia sat back in her chair, still grinning. ‘So you’re going to fetch him back out of duty,’ she said. ‘Rather than for any other reason.’
‘Is this really necessary?’ Irene snapped. ‘I need to get to G-51.’
‘What would you say if I told you to answer in the Language?’ Coppelia asked. Darkness pooled around both of them as the lights flickered, and the night sky outside was covered in clouds.
‘That in this time and this place, it makes no difference why I am going to fetch him back, or leave him with his family,’ Irene said. Because it didn’t. ‘Now what would you say if I asked you why you are so determined to test me?’
The question hung in the air between them, unanswered. Then Coppelia leaned forward again, and tapped a quick command into her monitor. ‘Use the shift-transfer cupboard again,’ she said. ‘It’ll take you to the G-51 Traverse door. The transfer word is Responsibility. And one last thing.’
‘Yes?’
‘You have reminded me that you’re responsible for Kai, and everything that goes with it. I would remind you that I’m responsible for you. We both know that you’re putting yourself in danger. Please be careful.’
FIRST INTERLUDE - KAI IMPRISONED
&nbs
p; Kai came back to consciousness slowly and painfully, his whole body aching in a way that felt actively wrong. It wasn’t the pain of stretched muscles and joints, or the throb of an injury. It felt more as if the very air was toxic to him, and this was his body’s response.
His position didn’t help matters. He was lying face down over the back of a horse, his hands still shackled behind his back, breathing fresh horse-sweat with every nauseating gulp of air. The collar around his throat bound his power, restricting him to this human shape. He also had no idea where he was, or what was happening. But he could tell that he was in a high-chaos world, one far more repellent to one of his kind than any he had visited before.
His head swam dizzily, and he fought the urge to shut his eyes. He wondered how Irene would handle the situation if she was the prisoner. She would feign unconsciousness, he decided, till she had learned everything that she could, and then she would escape.
There was water nearby, all around this place, and even though it was polluted by chaos and he couldn’t touch it, he could sense its presence. Right. First fact gathered. There were people walking past. They were wearing bright clothing. Another observation. He could hear people talking in Italian. Italian and water: that should mean something, but at the moment he couldn’t work out what. He managed to lift his head enough to see what was happening ahead. Another horse, with a rider seated on it - the man who had kidnapped him.
Anger tightened in his belly. He would not endure this. He would - he would …
The world began to spin again and he lowered his head, trying to breathe steadily. The horses stopped, and voices came from ahead.
‘My lord Guantes, you are earlier than expected. May we enquire if there has been a problem of some sort?’
‘Nothing significant.’ It was the voice of his kidnapper. Kai’s lips peeled back in a snarl. ‘We had to accelerate the plan a little. My wife will be following on the Train. Is the Prison prepared?’
‘My lord, it is. We will be glad to take your captive.’
‘I think not.’ There was a firm arrogance to his kidnapper’s voice. ‘The dragon remains in my custody until he’s in the cell, and I keep the key to his collar.’
‘Do you doubt the Ten, my lord?’
Kai bit down hard on his tongue, trying to concentrate. There had to be something here he could use. He managed to lift his head again to get another look at his kidnapper. The Fae looked travel-stained, his grey fur mantle marked with dust and rain, but he still held himself with the hauteur of an aristocrat and a leader.
‘I doubt everyone,’ Lord Guantes said. ‘There is one person in all the worlds that I trust, and she is not here. Of course I have the greatest of respect for your Ten. But in the circles we inhabit, it is only natural for great men to suspect one another.’ His voice deepened, and Kai was conscious that other people were stopping to listen, swept along by the Fae’s presence and words. ‘My friend, we move towards a new and greater future, one where we shall march side by side until ever more worlds rest beneath our dominion. I do not speak of some far-off mystic vision. I am offering you - offering all of the Ten that rule this realm - a firm and concrete land of opportunity.’ He gestured widely, pointing to a metaphorical distant horizon. ‘We shall move forward. We shall wage open war against the dragons. The spheres will fall before the Fae and our allies, like wheat before the scythe. Our current scheme is the first of many victories. Those who obey me shall be exalted, shall be gods!’
He sounded utterly convincing. Even tied up as he was, bound, helpless and a prisoner, Kai could feel the urge to nod and accept what this man was saying - even to volunteer. This wasn’t the seductive glamour that Lord Silver practised. It was something that went direct to the command/obey root of the brainstem. Kai understood obedience to his elders and superiors, and this speech tried to play on the same urges. A dragon could resist it. Humans would be far less capable of fighting back.
The admiring chorus of murmurs that had been rising in the background broke off as an earthquake shuddered beneath them, fuelled by a wave of chaotic power. It shoved Kai back towards unconsciousness as the horses neighed, tossing their heads and stamping. The waters trembled in response, lapping up against their boundaries.
‘I do apologize,’ Lord Guantes said, not sounding at all apologetic. ‘I get a little carried away sometimes. I hope that your masters appreciate my enthusiasm.’
‘Of course, my lord,’ the other man said. ‘But I think they would prefer you to save your eloquence for its proper targets, rather than wasting it on their common citizens.’
‘Of course, of course,’ Lord Guantes said soothingly, that commanding tone back in his voice again.
Kai couldn’t breathe properly. The air was thick with chaos, clogging his lungs, and he was trapped in this weak human body. He fought against it, against Guantes’ voice, against the chaos permeating this world, which burned him like radiation sickness. But there was no firm place for him to stand, nothing that he could do.
He sank into the darkness again. Father. Uncle. He shaped the thoughts like a prayer as he tried to hold on to consciousness. Where are you?
Vale.
Irene.
Help me …
CHAPTER SEVEN
It was no surprise that Kai had quickly acclimatized to Vale’s alternate, Irene decided ruefully. It was just as polluted there as it was here. The main difference here was that people didn’t go around with scarves covering their faces. Either they were rich, and spent their lives inside private air-conditioned buildings, cars, heli-shuttles and estates, or they were poor and simply breathed the air - and presumably developed lung disorders. Flashing holographic advertisements offered transplanted lungs, force-grown from your own genetic stock. None of the advertisements mentioned magic, which Irene found interesting. Possibly there was no way to combine magic with technology here, or magic was illegal. She wished she actually knew a little about this world. Even two minutes with a public information pamphlet would have been educational, although she had been in similar worlds before. She’d have to assume the standard problems with this level of technology: too much public surveillance, and everything done electronically.
There hadn’t been anyone on the far side of the Traverse, which had made things easier. The library was old, and full of dust, antique furniture, tiled floors and wooden arches. It wasn’t the glorious bibliophile’s delight that it had presumably once been. But this was a hazard of old Traverses, which might have started off as an important library or collection of books, but then dwindled - leaving the Traverse still lodged in place. And as royalties and aristocracies rose and fell, what might once have been a ruler’s showpiece eventually became a faded public library or museum. Like this one. There were enough red velvet ropes and helpful signs to make it clear that this building was open to the public. But there was no sign of any Librarian-in-Residence, and Irene was grateful for that. She wouldn’t have to waste time explaining herself.
She followed a convenient group of tourists out of the place, her incongruously too-long-for-this-world skirts fluttering round her ankles. She felt exposed, but tried to look as if she was simply unfashionable. And then someone tried to mug her, the moment she stepped into a nearby alley. It put the final seal on her mood, and she glared at the young man in gang colours confronting her. He was pointing a small electrically sparking device - some sort of Hey, I’m a dangerous Taser gadget - directly at her.
‘Kindly put that thing away,’ she said in icy German. ‘Or I will make you seriously regret it. I’m in a hurry and don’t have time for this.’
‘Naah, you’ve got lots of time for this,’ the man replied. He looked her up and down. ‘Let’s start with your ID and credits, if you can find them under that dress.’
Irene took a deep breath. She could just blow up his electronic weapon, but she didn’t know its exact name in the Language. There might be other electronic devices within earshot, which would be dangerously affected if she used ge
neric nouns - and it might possibly be overreacting. A hand-to-hand fight would also be fast and efficient, but there was the chance she might lose.
As for the third option … using the Language in this way was extremely hazardous and very temporary, but five minutes might be long enough. ‘Young man,’ she said in the Language, regretting that she didn’t have anything more specific to call him, ‘you now perceive that I am someone whom you recognize as incredibly dangerous.’
Irene felt the universe strain around her as it tried to come to terms, within the microcosm of the boy’s head, with the way that she’d changed reality. The Library brand across her back smarted like a painful sunburn, and a headache tightened her temples. Blood ran from her right nostril, and she raised a hand to blot it away.
For a single self-indulgent moment, it was so very satisfying to watch the man’s eyes widen in terror. She also saw a dark stain appear on the artfully tight crotch of his jeans. ‘Drop your weapon, your ID and your credits,’ Irene ordered, returning to German again. ‘Then run.’
He dropped the weapon as if it had burned his fingers, then pulled out a wallet from his mesh jacket with a trembling hand and bent to lay it on the ground. Then he backed away several paces, apparently unwilling to take his eyes off her, before turning to sprint down the alley with the speed of pure terror.
It was easy enough to manipulate physical things using the Language. But sentient minds fought back, and always eventually snapped back to their previous awareness, with the knowledge that they had been changed. As soon as the boy realized that he’d been duped, he’d be after her for vengeance. Irene kicked the weapon to one side. Then she picked up the wallet, flicking it open as she stepped out of the alley again. She ignored the glances of passers-by and wished again for native clothing. This wasn’t part of the plan, but she could use it.
After that, it was fairly standard work, made easier by the fact that she didn’t need to maintain a long-term identity here. It had been years since she needed to operate in a high-tech world, but she remembered the basic principles. Use the Language to adjust computer surveillance and banking as necessary - and keep moving, before the computer backups reset themselves and noticed that something was wrong.
The Masked City Page 7