The Burning Page

Silver spread his hands. ‘That’s pretty much all I’ve heard.’

‘Was Lady Guantes one of these Fae?’

‘I wouldn’t know,’ Silver said. ‘The lady has vanished from sight – and good riddance. I’m sure we’ll have trouble with her again, but it’ll take her a while to build up her power base.’ He was remarkably casual about the subject, Vale felt. ‘But the epilogue to the Alberich business is that some of those who were taking an interest in his offers have since dropped out of circulation. Or so I’m told. Which leads me to wonder why you’re here and asking after him.’

‘But what was he wanting collaborators for?’ Vale asked. ‘Surely there must have been some talk about his ultimate plans? Offers of potential rewards? Even speculation would be useful.’

‘Yes. Yes, you have a very good point there.’ Silver frowned thoughtfully. ‘There has been significantly little detail available. My best guess would be that his offers were vague enough that only the desperate were attracted. Sadly, there are enough of those – people who’ve lost their patrons, who’ve come out as losers in intrigues, and so on. Poor fools.’

‘You’re surprisingly sympathetic.’

‘Not sympathy so much as pity,’ Silver said. ‘Sympathy would imply I might even try to help them. Pity is much safer. It can be delivered from on high without getting involved. I pity them. I sympathize with you, detective.’

‘Me?’ Vale said, surprised.

‘I warned you not to go to Venice.’ Silver’s gaze was very direct now, and there was an odd intimacy to his tone, a suggestion that the two of them shared some sort of connection. ‘I know what sort of effect a high-chaos world has on an unprepared human. I didn’t want to lose you, detective. And I’m still not sure whether I will or not.’

Vale drew back, affronted by Silver’s manner. But if he was to be honest with himself, what truly repelled him was that he somehow understood what Silver meant. It was as if Silver was talking to another of his own kind – another Fae – and the thought of that revolted every atom of his being. The brief enjoyment he’d taken from sparring with Silver faded, and his earlier ennui threatened to sweep over him again. He’d been able to hold it off, convincing himself that his actions would somehow be worthwhile and make a difference. But now it all seemed so shallow once more, and ultimately irrelevant. He hungered for the sheer fire of their earlier conversation, the keen delight of matching wits with Silver. And at the same time he found that desire disturbing.

‘So all you know is that Alberich had a plan in mind,’ he finally said, trying to get back to the subject at hand. Winters needed his help. That much was important. ‘And while some of your kind may be involved, they are currently incommunicado.’

‘Succinct and accurate,’ Silver said, and yawned again. ‘If anything else has happened within the last few days, then I haven’t yet heard. But you must agree that you now know more than you did. My debt is paid.’

Vale was forced to nod in agreement. ‘I accept this. I could only wish, for once, that you knew a little more than you do.’

‘But, my dear Vale, we’re hardly finished.’ Silver leaned forward, his face avid and hungry for information. ‘You haven’t yet told me what you know, or why you came here to ask all these questions. Obviously Alberich’s making his move. Is there nothing I can say or do that would persuade you to share information?’

It was an interesting quandary. Silver would pay dearly for news on Alberich’s attack on the Library, but telling him might put Winters and Strongrock in danger. ‘I’m not sure what you have that I might want . . .’ Vale said.

‘My turn to play detective!’ Silver said gleefully. His lips curved in a smile, much as they usually did when appraising a woman. ‘The fact that you won’t tell me is information in itself. I deduce that Alberich has caused, or is causing, some danger to the Library, which explains Miss Winters’ absence. Naturally you don’t want to tell me that. You’d be far too afraid of what I might do with the information.’

‘You’d be taking quite a gamble if you tried to sell that to other Fae as reliable intelligence,’ Vale said blandly. But he felt his stomach sink. Silver’s speculation was far too accurate, and there was no convenient way to turn aside his guesses without an outright lie.

‘You aren’t denying it,’ Silver pointed out.

‘Our deal doesn’t involve me giving you any further details,’ Vale said. ‘By agreement or by denial.’

Yet . . . was news of the attack really that significant? It seemed to be generally known that Alberich took an interest in the Library. And there was one thing Vale very much wanted to know, and Silver might just be able to tell him. ‘On the other hand . . .’ he said thoughtfully.

Silver’s eyes glittered. ‘Yes?’

‘Have any Fae of moderate power entered London recently? The sort of person whom Alberich was recruiting? Or Lady Guantes herself?’

‘Really, my dear Vale, how do you expect me to know something like that?’ But the smirk on Silver’s lips suggested that he had the answer.

‘You are the spider in the local web,’ Vale said. ‘Any flies entering it would catch your attention. My question stands.’

‘Reasonable. And in return, my question would be: what precisely is going on?’ Silver inspected his fingernails. ‘Do take your time. I’m sure we’re not in a hurry.’