The Burning Page

He paused.

‘Since then, we’ve received reports that a number of permanent gates to the Library have been destroyed. We’ve also received reports of assaults on Librarians who were stationed in those worlds, or in others. There have been several deaths. Confirmed deaths, that is. We have not yet checked on all Librarians who haven’t been in contact with the Library for a while.’

One Librarian started to raise her hand to ask a question. Kostchei stared at her silently until she lowered it again.

In the silence, the whole situation rearranged itself in Irene’s mind. This wasn’t just something directed at her and Kai: it was a threat to the whole Library. She felt as Kai had done when confronted with Vale’s drugs – faced with something that couldn’t be happening, that was a challenge to the very way she viewed the universe. She hadn’t thought it was possible that the Library could be threatened. She’d always thought she might not survive, that Librarians might die, but the Library would surely continue . . .

But Coppelia was somehow down there, with other senior Librarians, confirming that all of this was true.

Irene wasn’t sure now if the spiders were linked to Alberich. Would it be better or worse if they weren’t? If they were his doing, that meant he had some way of reaching inside Vale’s world, perhaps via an agent. And if they weren’t his doing, then yet another person was out to kill her. Or Kai. Or both of them together.

She remembered a conversation with Kai’s uncle Ao Shun, when Kai had been kidnapped. Ao Shun had said in tones of iron, ‘This is not to be tolerated. This will not be tolerated.’

Anger crystallized in Irene’s stomach. Indeed. She refused to tolerate this.

Kostchei waited another five seconds before continuing. ‘We haven’t yet established whether the gate-malfunctions are triggered by attempts to use the gates, or whether the gates are already destroyed and we only find out when we attempt to use them. Library Security has nothing to report, and we don’t believe it to be an internal matter.’ In other words, there weren’t any traitors inside the Library’s walls. So the problem lay outside. ‘We have made enquiries from various sources, and the dragons don’t appear to be involved in this. We’re not sure about the Fae. Under no circumstances will we accept Alberich’s terms. You may now ask questions.’

Hands shot up. The pink-haired woman received the first nod from Kostchei and fired off her question. ‘How many gates have been hit by this so far? And are they to law-slanted worlds or chaos ones?’

‘The table recognizes Ananke. So far, twenty-five gates are known to be affected. The proportions of chaos and order worlds are roughly equal, and there is no clear evidence of more breakdowns on either side of the theoretical balance.’

The man in blue silk was next. ‘Have there been any previous occurrences like this in the past? Could it be somehow cyclical?’

‘Wishful thinking,’ Penemue muttered, but Kallimachos raised a finger to his lips to hush her.

‘The table recognizes Sotunde.’ Kostchei tugged on his beard. It looked solid enough to be used as a weapon. ‘While it is a matter of Library record that gates may shift their positions inside a world, we have no previous reports of any going up in flames. We realize that this in itself doesn’t prove that they can’t go up in flames every few thousand years. Your comment is taken under advisement. Next!’

‘Did Alberich give any means to locate him?’ This was from a middle-aged woman in a neat grey linen kimono and geta sandals, her face painted to bland immobility. Circuit-embossed metal bracers encircled her wrists and forearms.

‘The table recognizes Murasaki.’ Irene blinked. That was the name of the woman who’d recruited Kai as a trainee Librarian, but hadn’t noticed the fact that he was a dragon. It would be interesting to speak with her later, if there was a chance. ‘Alberich said if we were to surrender, we were to publicly announce it on the media in several specific alternates, and then have some of the elders leave the Library and wait for him to contact them. While we have agents checking those worlds, as yet they have nothing to report.’

Interesting how little detail he’s giving on where, how or when Alberich made his announcement, Irene thought. Could it be that Kostchei wants to make sure nobody actually follows those instructions? Are they afraid that some people would try and surrender, if they knew how?

‘Brief was the mention of sources of enquiry.’ Gwydion had wedged his way into a pause in the dialogue, without waiting for Kostchei to signal him, and was frowning. ‘While none of us would dally untowardly with our enemies, should our ears not remain open in the service of the Library? If aught can be learned, then surely we should ask for information wherever we can find it.’

Kostchei started to speak, then paused when the woman in the wheelchair raised her hand. ‘The table recognizes Gwydion. I yield to Melusine.’

Melusine had dirty blonde hair, trimmed close to her head, and she was in a plain checked shirt and jeans, rather than the more dramatic robes or dresses that some of the other elder Librarians wore. Her voice was light and cool: Irene couldn’t identify any traces of a national accent. ‘To cut aside the circumlocutions: yes, we have some contacts among the dragons and among the Fae. Yes, we have spoken with them. No, the ones we’ve spoken to don’t know anything about this. However, the information we have access to is far from exhaustive. If you have an inappropriate friend out there, don’t be shy. Get them to talk. Just be careful. There have been rumours that Alberich has Fae contacts . . .’