The Burning Page

Singh frowned. He was in ordinary civilian clothing rather than his usual police uniform, and his tie-pin, Irene noticed with the precision of fatigue, was a little sword. ‘He’s not good, not good at all. May I speak frankly, Miss Winters?’

‘Of course,’ Irene said, mentally resigning herself. Anything that started off with May I speak frankly never ended well.

‘I’ve seen Mr Vale under stress before. I’ve seen him caught up in a case before.’ Singh folded his arms. ‘I have even, I must admit, seen him dosing himself with substances that I would prefer not to notice legally. But I have never seen him in quite this driven a state. And given that you know all about it, Miss Winters – you and your friend Strongrock here – I would be grateful if you could tell me exactly what’s going on.’

‘Where is Vale at the moment?’ Irene glanced at the closed bedroom door. ‘Is he . . .’ She trailed off, not wanting to actually say hitting the morphine again out loud.

Singh shifted his weight from foot to foot. ‘I confess that I put a little something in his tea to help him sleep. When I arrived earlier this evening he was pacing the room, throwing out theories with one hand and digging himself deeper into depression with the other. Mr Vale’s a man of moods, and they’ve been getting worse over this last month. But in all the time I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him this bad.’

Singh’s words in all the time I’ve known him hung in the air like an accusation. He was a long-term friend of Vale. They’d worked together for years before Irene and Kai had shown up. From Singh’s point of view, Irene was the interloper who’d swept in bringing trouble, and who’d then brought this down on Vale.

And it was all entirely true. Her guilt was a sour taste in her mouth.

‘It’s my fault,’ Kai said. Irene began to protest, but he brought up his hand to cut her off. ‘Let’s be honest about this, Irene. I was the one who was kidnapped, and when Vale tried to help, he was exposed to a toxic environment. That’s why he’s in trouble now. There isn’t anything I can say except that I’m sorry, Inspector Singh, and I will do my best to make amends.’

‘You can claim responsibility all you like, Mr Strongrock,’ Singh said. ‘And I’m not denying that you may well be responsible. But even though I’m only a police inspector, and not up to Mr Vale’s standards of detecting, it’s still very obvious that Miss Winters is in charge. She brought you here. And her friend was visiting earlier today. I think I’d like my answers from Miss Winters.’

Irene didn’t bother asking how Singh knew that Bradamant had visited. Vale might have told him, or the housekeeper, or anyone. It didn’t matter. What did matter was that, several months ago, Bradamant had sold Singh a whole pack of lies while they’d been hunting for the Grimm book. Singh wasn’t inclined to trust any Librarian after that.

‘May we sit down?’ she said. ‘This may take a little while.’

At least there was brandy. All three of them knew where Vale kept it.

Irene knew that Singh was aware of the Library, and the concept of multiple alternate worlds, though he wasn’t as well-informed as Vale. They’d had to tell him the basics when Alberich had previously interfered in this world. And even though Irene herself hadn’t gone into further detail, she was sure Vale had passed on a lot more information. Probably including Irene’s own rap sheet. So she luckily didn’t have to start right from the very beginning. She ran through Alberich’s new threat to the Library, Vale’s contamination by chaos and their current need for Vale’s services. ‘We stopped off at the hotel address Zayanna gave us on our way here,’ she finished. ‘The hotel clerk said that Zayanna had taken a room, but she hadn’t been staying there, just using it as an address to collect mail. I know it wasn’t likely, but we had to check.’

‘I’m more interested in what you’ve said about helping Mr Vale.’ Singh hadn’t taken any of the brandy for himself, and had made do with a glass of water – more to keep Irene and Kai company than out of any actual need for a drink, Irene suspected. ‘If Mr Strongrock takes him to another world,’ he pronounced those words with scepticism, but managed to get them out, ‘then that will help him get back to his normal self?’

Irene looked down at her hands, which were throbbing painfully. She wouldn’t be getting to sleep any time soon. No problem, she didn’t have time to sleep anyhow.

She had to find Zayanna, and the fastest method was to get Vale to do it. No question about it, he could find anyone hiding out in London. But if she did ask Vale, he would be in danger of going over the edge. And if she tried to save Vale instead, by getting Kai to take him to a high-order world, her chances of locating Zayanna dropped significantly.

Bradamant wouldn’t have hesitated. Bradamant would have known that the Library was her highest priority, just as it should be Irene’s. Saving the Library justified putting one human in danger. And Irene herself put people in danger all the time when she was stealing books. So why was she hesitating, simply because this one person was a friend and she’d got him into this in the first place?

Next to her, Kai was looking deeply concerned, but he didn’t seem as stressed as Irene herself felt. With a nasty shock, she realized that he was gazing at her as though she could wave her hand and sort everything out. As if she knew how to fix things. She’d done a dreadful job of mentoring him, she reflected bleakly: he shouldn’t be relying on her like this.