The Lost Plot

by Genevieve Cogman

  “He said he wanted to interview anyone caught wandering around here,” the presumed Rob said. “I reckon that’s a yes.”

  “Right. Don’t try anything stupid, you hear me? Or you’ll both regret it.” The first man gave a quick jerk with his gun towards their left, down a shattered stretch of colonnade. “Walk along there nice and easy, and stop when we tell you. There’s a gentleman who’d like a word.”

  Irene didn’t have to look behind her to know that Kai was tense. She reached out to touch his sleeve. “Let’s do what the gentleman tells us,” she said, putting a quiver in her voice.

  Weighing the alternatives, she decided to run first and answer questions later. They had a job to do. As the men had relaxed at her apparent capitulation, she focused her words. “Dust, rise.”

  As she spoke, she dropped to the ground and rolled sideways, pulling Kai down as well. Dust billowed upwards from the ground, from every nook and crevice, swelling into a choking, eye-burning cloud around them.

  A quick spray of bullets ripped through the air above their heads, and then one of the men yelled, “Stay where you are! Or we’ll shoot!”

  Without needing to exchange a word, Irene and Kai rose and quickly edged sideways. Irene caught Kai’s sleeve so they weren’t separated. A few more seconds and they’d be out of these thugs’ immediate zone of fire.

  It was an absolutely textbook escape, and in an ideal world it wouldn’t have been spoilt by Irene turning her ankle on a loose stone and going down with an audible thud, losing her grip on Kai.

  She tried to pull herself to her feet, but Rob was abruptly on top of her, pointing the gun directly at her. There were no ifs or buts in his reddened eyes. If she tried anything at all, she could tell he’d pull the trigger.

  Irene raised her hands meekly. “You got me,” she said. “My friend’s already out of here.”

  She knew Kai would obey her implicit instruction to make a break for it, no matter how unhappy he felt about leaving. To be fair, Irene wasn’t that happy about it herself.

  The other man loomed out of the dust. “On your feet,” he ordered.

  Irene pulled herself upright, wincing. “I’ve sprained my ankle,” she said pitifully.

  “Hop,” Rob advised. “We’ll walk slow.”

  Irene limped along, exaggerating her difficulty in walking, with the two men a few paces behind her—close enough that she didn’t have a chance of dodging and running for it, but far enough away that she couldn’t try to grab at them. On the whole, she had to rate these two as professionals. She tried to convince herself this was a positive sign. Less chance of being shot by accident.

  She was escorted to a boarded-up side door, where a third gunman was stationed. His eyes widened as he saw her, but he nodded to the other two mobsters.

  “You call the boss, Pete,” Rob said. “We’ve got someone here he’s going to want to talk to.”

  “He might not be around,” Pete whined. “You know he’s been out of town these last couple of days.”

  “Yeah, well, this dame had better hope he is around, or she’s going to be standing on that busted ankle of hers a lot longer. Now get to it before the cops take an interest.”

  Pete muttered, but put down his gun—out of Irene’s reach—and left through the side door. The boards pulled aside easily, taped in place rather than nailed down, more of a visible deterrent than an actual barrier.

  Irene mentally debated whether to signal for Kai, or wait to see if she could get anything out of this boss. The need for information won. “Mind if I sit down?” she asked.

  “No problem, but keep your hands clear and where I can see them,” Rob said. “You want a cigarette?”

  “Not for me, thanks.” Irene eased herself to the ground, rubbing her ankle. The more helpless they thought she was, the better.

  “Suit yourself.”

  She tried to start a conversation a couple of times, with no luck. Finally she gave up, and hoped that Kai was less bored than she was. And neither of them had anything to read this time.

  After about fifteen minutes the barrier swung open again, and Pete poked his head around it. “He’s here,” he said. “The usual car.”

  Rob put down his tommy gun but pulled a revolver from an inner holster. He kept Irene covered while his friend did the same. “We’re going to walk out onto the sidewalk and to the car that’s parked there,” he informed her. “You just keep on behaving yourself.”

  “I just wish you’d tell me what’s going on,” Irene tried.

  “Sorry,” Rob said. “That ain’t what they’re paying me for.”

  Rob took Irene’s arm, pressing the revolver unobtrusively into her side, and walked her onto the street, towards a car parked by the curb. The other man was just a few paces behind.

  The street was busy, with yellow cabs shooting by and people walking past. It was almost strange to see so many people without the scarves or veils that Irene had grown used to in Vale’s world—a combination of local fashion and local pollution. Instead hats were worn jauntily, both male fedoras and female cloche hats. Clothing blazed out in vigorous colours, with all the advantages of cheap machine-made dyes. The whole street scene buzzed with an energy completely different from the quiet drive of Vale’s world, with people hailing each other or talking loudly as they strolled past, rather than moving through the fogs and murmuring politely so as not to disturb other pedestrians. But nobody looked twice at Irene and her escorts. If anything, they were rather obviously not looking at them, which gave Irene a good idea of how freely organized crime was operating in this city.

  The windows of the car were darkened glass. She couldn’t see inside. If she was going to make a run for it, she needed to do it now.

  Then she realized the car wasn’t idling at the curb: the engine was dead. She’d have at least a few seconds of warning before being driven away anywhere, long enough to do something. She’d play along.

  “Get in,” Rob ordered. The other man was already opening the rear car door, muttering something to whoever was inside. Still exaggerating her limp, Irene stepped up on the running-board, ducking her head to enter the car.

  There was another man sitting inside. It took a moment for Irene’s eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness and see him clearly, but one thing was very evident from her first glimpse. He was a dragon.

  He was wearing the same basic type of three-piece suit as the two men who’d escorted her to the car, but it was more expensive by an order of magnitude. No surprise there; Irene had yet to meet a dragon (admittedly she’d only met five so far, that she knew of) who didn’t prefer high-quality clothing. His skin was pale enough to be almost luminescent in the enclosed darkness of the car. He was handsome, with the sort of profile that begged to be sculpted in marble. But he didn’t possess quite the same dangerous degree of perfection as Kai or Li Ming. Irene wondered if she’d managed to walk into Qing Song during her first hour on this world. That would be remarkably unhelpful.

  “Would you mind identifying yourself?” he said gently. “It must be a shock to see a library in ruins.” Perhaps he thought he was dealing with a novice, or a Librarian who’d never interacted with dragons before.

  That settled it. This wasn’t Qing Song. A dragon with the same rank as Jin Zhi would have felt more powerful to Irene’s senses, and would never have been this polite to a total stranger. But in that case, Irene had even less idea who this was, and no choice but to go with the flow and appear harmless. He’d clearly been waiting for incoming Librarians. If this wasn’t connected with the whole Evariste business, then she would eat her hat without mustard.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” she gushed. “I was afraid this was some sort of Fae kidnapping. I can’t tell you how relieved I am.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Relieved?” But Irene thought she could sense a slight relaxation of tension on his side. She was being st
upid, obvious, and predictable, and it was what he wanted to hear.

  “To meet a dragon, of course. I mean, not that I’ve really met many dragons before, to be honest . . .” She put her fingers to her lips, like a nervous teenager confronted with a pop idol. “I’m so sorry, I think I’m babbling. My name’s Marguerite. And you are?”

  “Hu,” he said. Now that she was more accustomed to the light, she could see that his hair was light copper. His suit was a pale reddish brown, but his tie and cuff links were dark green. “And you’re a Librarian, I take it.”

  One of the few fragments of cultural information that Irene had dragged out of Kai concerned the colours that dragons wore. Most dragons preferred to wear clothing in the same shades as their natural colouration, where the local culture allowed it, but accented with the colours of their direct superior. The dragon for whom Hu worked was probably dark green—as a dragon, not a human, of course. She filed that information away for later.

  But for the moment she was supposed to be a total innocent, and a nitwit on top of that. She nodded. “I should have said I was a Librarian, but you seemed to know already. Did your men say that I behaved strangely?”

  “They said that you dropped a smoke-bomb, actually. And two oddly dressed strangers came out of a library, when no one went in . . .” He spread his hands. “A reasonable guess.”

  Irene nodded. “Oh, that makes sense. And ordinary people wouldn’t have known you were a dragon. I hope it isn’t awfully rude of me to say so.”

  Was she overdoing the cute inexperience? She leaned forward. “But why did you have your men bring me over here with a gun in my ribs? The Library and dragons are on good terms.”

  “This world is disputed,” Hu said, drawing back a little. “We’re on the alert for any signs of Fae intrusion.”

  Yes, which totally fails to explain why you have armed guards watching a ruined library. You don’t do that because you’re worried about Fae—you do that because you’re worried about Librarians.

  But Irene nodded, putting as much sincerity into her eyes as she could manage. She pointed in the direction of the library. “You think they did that, then?”

  “Exactly. We were hoping to find some trace of them. I’ll be reporting to my own lord later. I’m sorry that you walked into the wrong end of my investigation, but under the circumstances . . .” He shrugged elegantly.

  “No, please don’t apologize! I’ve learned so much because I ran into you.” That was absolutely sincere. Irene wasn’t sure what Hu was up to, but she was sure it was worth pursuing. “So if it was the local Fae, do you know where they’re based, or if they have any particular leaders?”

  “My men are investigating,” Hu said. “This . . .” He gestured towards the ruins of the library. “It only happened a couple of days ago. I’m still trying to get the full details. The police are patrolling regularly, so we’d better not stay here too long. By the way, my men also said that you were accompanied—another Librarian?”

  Irene nodded. “He’s my supervisor on this mission. Of course we both took cover when your men tried to capture us, but he managed to get away. I’ll meet up with him later . . .”

  “And the mission?” Hu said, a little too casually.

  At this point, Irene decided, even an overwhelmed novice Librarian would be starting to worry that she was saying too much. “I—that is . . .” she faltered. “Of course, it doesn’t involve the dragons at all, quite the opposite. And now that you’ve confirmed the Fae were behind blowing up the library, we know what to watch for. So we won’t need to bother you any further.”

  For a long moment he was silent.

  Irene’s heart was in her mouth as she waited to see if he’d swallow it.

  And then he smiled. “Of course we’ll do our best to help you,” he said, reaching across to touch her wrist reassuringly. “We’ve worked with the Library before, after all. You might know some of the Librarians we’ve collaborated with? Petronia, Julian, Evariste . . .”

  Irene was reasonably sure that her face didn’t give anything away as he dropped those names, but she couldn’t be sure about her pulse. If you can’t hide a reaction, then cover it up with something else, she thought. She dropped her gaze to his hand, and worked on recalling every single moment of holding on to Kai in the lift. She could feel a blush coming to her cheeks. “Ah, no, I don’t think so,” she whispered.

  He patted her hand and released it. It wasn’t the sort of I’ll seduce you later, I’m just too busy right now gesture that Lord Silver (the most notorious Fae rake in Vale’s London) would have bestowed. It conveyed more of a There, there, you poor humans simply can’t help yourselves attitude. Which was what Irene had been hoping for. She kept her expression timid and awed. And she wondered if he realized that he’d just betrayed himself by mentioning those names.

  “I should go and meet my colleague before he gets too worried,” Irene suggested. She considered clasping her wrist where Hu had touched it, but decided that would be overkill. “Is there some way we could contact you again?”

  He reached into a pocket, flipped out a card-case, and offered her a card. It had only a phone number on it. “Ring this and leave a message for me. I’ll be glad to talk to you and your supervisor. With any luck, we’ll be able to dispose of the Fae who did this. Can I drop you anywhere?”

  “No, thank you, it’s within walking distance,” Irene said, tucking the card into a pocket. “I’m so very grateful. Thank you again.” She’d have liked to ask more questions—who his superior was, for a start. She regretfully decided that she’d settle for getting out of this car alive and with a little more information.

  “Think nothing of it,” Hu said. “It’s the least I can do.”

  If you had anything to do with this library being blown up, then it’s definitely the very least you can do, Irene thought venomously. She murmured further thanks and let Hu wave her out of the car. The mobster Rob, who’d been standing next to the car door in a position of casual readiness, nodded to her as she walked away.

  There was no immediate sign of Kai, but Irene was sure he’d be in a position where he could watch the car and could see her. She spread her right hand casually in one of their pre-arranged signals—five minutes—and began walking down the street.

  A part of her unwillingly fizzed with the buzz of excitement that any Librarian had on entering a new alternate world. Even though they had a mission to complete, she could still appreciate the thrill of new surroundings and different—well, different everything. The wide streets, broader and straighter than most of London’s, were well lit by street lamps and glaring shop windows. Rather than the plain black or navy or grey of many of London’s inhabitants, bright colours surrounded Irene as she jostled through the early-evening crowds—fur collars, silk and rayon jackets, wide-shouldered suits on the men. Tight cloche hats clung to female heads, ornamented with ribbons in particular styles as if to convey the wearer’s intentions, while male fedoras were tilted in such a wide variety of angles that Irene was surprised they didn’t fall off. Even the perfumes were different. Artificial violet and rose odours warred with cigarette-smoke from all the smokers—both men and women. Semaphore signals flapped on a traffic light at the intersection nearby, and long-bodied cars prowled down the street like wolves amidst the urban jungle, overshadowed by the tall buildings rearing a dozen storeys above her head.

  She pulled herself back to focus on the job. There was a lot to do: get to the bank for cash and documents, obtain some new clothing to blend better into this world, and, most important, work on locating Evariste. But the first item on her list was losing her pursuers. Even if she’d managed to convince Hu that she was an utter novice, he would certainly be having her followed.

  And right now Hu was the last person she wanted to know about her whereabouts. She had too many unanswered questions about him.

  CHAPTER 7

 
It was past midnight before Irene and Kai could stop running.

  They’d met up outside the Northern Bank just before it closed. Irene had been aware of the men following her: they’d been getting closer and taking an interest anytime she stopped to talk to someone, even if it was just to ask for directions. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Hu hadn’t so much let her go as let her run on a long leash with the intention of picking up her contact—the presumed other Librarian—as well. She did her best to make it look as if she and Kai just happened to be entering the Northern Bank at the same time, but she wasn’t sure the watchers were fooled.

  On the positive side, requesting a private interview with a bank clerk did mean that she and Kai were escorted into a private room, out of public view. And after using the Language to convince the poor clerk that she’d showed full identification, Irene now had an extremely large amount of local currency. She also secured the unfortunately out-of-date identity papers that the previous Librarian had left in the cache. They’d left through a backdoor, after some lies about avoiding newspaper reporters, and hadn’t stopped since.

  Admittedly the men following them hadn’t been overtly flashing guns, or making suggestions such as “Stop or we’ll shoot you.” But they were the same breed as those who’d captured her earlier—calm, professional, and definitely armed. Other people saw them coming and moved out of the way, or answered questions (such as “Did you see where that man and woman just went?”) with respectful terror. Irene would have bet money that in the event of a police line-up, nobody would have admitted to recognizing these men, even if they were standing in a row of potato sacks. It wouldn’t be good for the health.

  So after a busy evening full of banks, shops, and nightclubs—frequented only to try to lose their pursuers—they’d finally paused. Right now they were holed up in a department store that was closed for the night. The security guard was far more interested in a quiet life than in catching burglars. He made his rounds noisily, flashing his torch in a way that could be seen from the other end of the building. That gave Irene and Kai time to sit down and plan their next step.