The Burning Page

‘You have a pit of snakes?’

‘Next door,’ Zayanna confirmed. ‘Or I can keep you in chains or something.’

‘Which you also have next door?’ Irene leaned forward, resting her hands on the drinks table, casually sliding her thumbs under its lip. ‘Don’t worry. I do understand that you don’t have a choice in the matter. Being what you are.’

Zayanna looked hurt. ‘Irene darling, that didn’t sound very kind.’

‘It wasn’t meant to be.’ Irene gave up trying to categorize her feelings, and settled for the fact that she could feel both anger and pity for Zayanna without them being mutually exclusive. ‘It really wasn’t.’

‘But we’re friends.’ Zayanna gave her the most human smile she’d given yet that evening. ‘Don’t you remember? We went swimming together in Venice, and you told me about your old school?’

‘And you got drunk and complained about how you always had to milk the serpents, and you never got to seduce any of the heroes,’ Irene agreed. This conversation had reached the point where awkward choices were going to have to be made, and she couldn’t wait for the men any longer. ‘I’m sorry that you lost your patron.’

‘Bah,’ Zayanna said dismissively. ‘I’ve had more fun in the last few months than I did for decades before that! This is what I was meant to be, darling.’

Irene nodded understandingly. And then she thrust the table upwards, bottles and all, dumping them all over Zayanna.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The table went over in a crash of bottles and glasses. Zayanna cried out in anger, shoving it off her, but she was well doused in a spray of vodka, gin and other expensive spirits. The floor was littered with broken glass. Irene sprang to her feet and took advantage of the other woman’s confusion to grab her by the shoulders and drag her off the divan, dropping her on the floor. ‘No pressing any buttons,’ she said. ‘No releasing any snakes or scorpions, or whatever.’

‘Guards!’ Zayanna shrieked. There was an undertone of panic to her voice. ‘Guards! Get in here now!’

The far door swung open. Kai was standing there, with Vale and Singh. ‘I’m afraid they’re not available,’ he said. ‘Will we do?’

Irene was just starting to enjoy the look on Zayanna’s face when a single click sounded. She half-glanced sideways, not taking her attention off Zayanna for a second. A cage door had swung open, and a long green serpent was tentatively wriggling out of its enclosure. More clicks sounded, like a house of cards ever so slowly collapsing, as other cage doors opened.

‘It was a dead man’s switch,’ Zayanna spat. She touched her throat nervously. ‘It was supposed to activate if I took my foot off it. Do you think I’m stupid? Now let me go!’

‘No,’ Irene said firmly. ‘Not an option. You’re going to tell me the truth.’

Zayanna came to her feet in a sudden motion, but instead of charging towards Irene, she bolted away. Irene had been expecting some sort of reaction, but the other woman’s sheer speed took her by surprise. So she ended up rugby-tackling Zayanna, rather than anything more elegant. The two of them went down together, rolling across the alcohol-splattered floor. Little scratching noises of skittering insect feet sounded uncomfortably close.

Irene managed to hold Zayanna down, getting a knee in the small of her back and twisting an arm behind her. ‘You’re not getting away,’ she grunted. ‘Stop wasting time—’

Zayanna started to choke, and she scrabbled at her neck with her free hand as she gasped for breath. A string of words in the Language was appearing around her throat, dark characters rising to the surface of the skin and stamped there like a tattoo. Irene could make out odd words through the coils of Zayanna’s hair as she struggled. Betray. Captive. Die.

That would be bad for me, Zayanna’s voice echoed in Irene’s memory. Permanently bad.

Irene abandoned her grip on the Fae and rolled her over onto her back, tilting her head back to get a better view of the Language. It was tightening like a noose, and the words were growing from thin sketched outlines to full shaded images, stamped as black as bruises on Zayanna’s throat. Zayanna clawed at them, but her fingers found no purchase, and her chest heaved as she struggled for breath.

‘What’s going on?’ Kai demanded from behind Irene’s shoulder.

‘A trap from Alberich to stop her talking. Keep the snakes off us,’ Irene said. She sorted through her mind for words in the Language to block this. She could read the full sentence now, clasped in a deadly circle round Zayanna’s neck. Before I should betray you, or be forced to speak, or be made captive, I shall die.

Irene opened her mouth, but a sudden thought stopped her, before she could try using the Language to break Alberich’s death sentence. Alberich had sent Zayanna – and other Fae – out to kill Librarians. He’d expect Librarians to be trying to question them. He’d expect people to use the Language to save Zayanna.

She ignored the thuds and crashes from behind her and fumbled in her pocket for a spare coin, pulling out a silver shilling. That would do. If she couldn’t break the Language with the Language, then she’d have to find another way to damage that sentence. Running more on instinct than with a plan in mind, she folded her coat cuff around her fingers and grasped the coin.

‘Silver shilling in my hand, rise in temperature to red-hot heat,’ she ordered.