The Invisible Library (The Invisible Library Novel)

by Genevieve Cogman

  “And that’s all you think?” Coppelia pushed. The dry twist at the corner of her mouth showed tacit agreement with Irene’s last statement.

  “That’s all I can be sure of.” There was a spike of pain in Irene’s temple, and she raised a bandaged hand to rub at it. “I can’t see why Alberich would have gone to so much trouble to find the book, if it had just been some kind of diversionary tactic to distract from some larger plot. And he’d gone to such efforts merely for some scheme relating to that alternate—but hunting the book seemed so very personal to him . . . But if Kai hadn’t been with me, I’d have died.” She did her best to give Coppelia a reproachful glance. “You knew about Kai.”

  “What you can work out in a few days, I have at least a sporting chance of noticing over several years,” Coppelia said smugly. But there was still that edge of caution behind her eyes. “Does he know I’m aware of his nature?”

  “I don’t know,” Irene said. “He knows I know.”

  “Well, clearly,” Coppelia said. “And does he know that you’ll tell me what you know?”

  “He’d find it astonishing if I didn’t,” Irene said, after a moment’s thought. “His views on loyalty are very definite.” She noticed that Coppelia wasn’t asking whether she liked Kai. And seeing that she did, she felt it was best kept to herself. If they were looking for an excuse to assign him elsewhere, which was the last thing she wanted, acknowledging that she was less than objective about him would certainly do it. Which would be bad. So she would avoid subjectivity, or at least being caught at it.

  “Well, he is a dragon.” Coppelia nodded. “Kindly don’t speculate too much to him about how much we already comprehend about him, unless the situation requires it. You’ll know when. For the moment, we’ll have to assume he understands that we know all.”

  “All?”

  “We are the Library,” Coppelia pointed out. “What we don’t know, we research. Now tell me the rest.”

  Irene gave a brief, factual report of the details . . . and then there was Alberich. Alberich took up a great deal of the report. Even then, Irene found it not only easier, but essential to her sanity, to be minimalist in her descriptions.

  Probably her current urge to grab everyone she met and check that they weren’t Alberich in disguise would eventually go away. She hoped so.

  Finally she trailed off. It seemed that they had slipped back into the casual banter of previous assignments. Everything had been simpler then, and arrogance had made it easy for Irene to talk glibly about secrets, about how elder Librarians could use her as a pawn. Now that that had probably happened, it was much less intriguing. It was like a splinter in her mind, which ached when she considered it.

  “Could you have given me more information?” she finally asked.

  “You were warned about Alberich as soon as we were certain he was within that alternate,” Coppelia said gently. “Before that, you might have been able to complete the mission on the information given. Do you actually feel any safer, with your current knowledge, understanding he suspects that you have it?”

  She was about to reply, No, not really, but there was more to the question than that. “I feel better able to handle matters now I’ve an idea about what’s going on,” she said. “People having nervous breakdowns due to knowledge that man isn’t meant to know—that happens in horror literature. Not real life.”

  “Yes.” Coppelia sighed. “And yes, I know you prefer crime literature.”

  “Detective stories,” Irene corrected her.

  Coppelia raised an eyebrow. “And is there anything else?”

  Irene tried to guess her meaning, then gave up. “Like what?”

  “This from someone who claims to be an investigator.”

  “But I didn’t ever claim—,” Irene tried to put in.

  “I must say that I think you could have done a better job as an undercover agent.”

  “But it was a very complex scenario, with limited information,” Irene blurted out. This was like an examination from her nightmares. She could feel herself cringing back against the couch.

  “Oh?” Coppelia folded her arms in a manner that practically telegraphed stern judgement. “Young woman, even though you’re my student, you have overstepped a number of lines on this occasion. You’ve revealed facts about the Library to at least two uninvolved parties.”

  Irene decided to just give up.

  “You encouraged the manifestation of a dragon in public.”

  “Excuse me.” That was a bit too much. “I wasn’t aware that was an offence against Library rules, and the Library sent him with me in the first place!”

  “Your comments have been noted,” Coppelia said. She was sounding almost bored, but there was a spark of amusement in her eyes. “Naturally I shall give them full consideration. I will also try to present them in a proper and reasonable light to the elder Librarians, should I need to justify your actions. Rather than treating them as a pitiful string of excuses.”

  Irene glared at her. This was beyond unfair. This was outright unreasonable.

  “I had expected better. Such a pity.” Coppelia tapped her fingers against each other. They clicked like death watch beetles. “Fortunately, as your mentor, I am competent to deal with this matter, and there is no need to refer it up higher.” Now the message in her eyes was clearer. It was a warning. Irene just wished she had a better idea what it meant. “As I said earlier, we are Librarians. What we don’t know, we research. And you, my dear Irene, have a great deal to research.”

  “I do?” Irene said, feeling her way carefully. “I suppose that perhaps I do.”

  Coppelia nodded. “Yes. Exactly. In fact, I believe I am within my rights to place you on location duty in that alternate. That is, until you’ve cleared up a few loose ends in the investigation. Your apprentice will stay with you, of course.”

  Irene had an extraordinary sense of being on a lift in free fall. “But—I—Alberich—”

  “Him at least you don’t need to worry about,” Coppelia said. “Quite without any sort of proper training, you’ve actually managed to banish him from that alternate. I’m impressed. Nine out of ten for inductive reasoning. What you have done will have set up a resonance in the inter-world barriers which will stop him from entering it again via chaos-linked magic. And of course he can’t use the Library itself. It will also cause serious inconvenience to local Fae, but I don’t consider that particularly important. At least, not to the Library.”

  “You’re wanting me to go back?” Irene squeaked. She took a deep breath and forced her voice lower. “That is, you want me to go back there on detached duty?”

  “Precisely,” Coppelia said. She smiled warmly, in much the same way that an alligator, cyborg or otherwise, might smile after a full meal of whatever alligators ate. Librarians, maybe. “I think that, at this moment, it’s the best possible place for you. There is also a Librarian-in-Residence position vacant, and you are familiar with the world.”

  “That could almost sound as if you think it safer than the Library,” Irene said tentatively.

  “You might very well think so,” Coppelia said. “I couldn’t possibly comment.”

  Free fall had given way to an enormous vertiginous drop, but it wasn’t actually that frightening anymore. It was even exciting. “I’ll need an expense account to support myself and Kai, of course, and identity papers.”

  “Irene,” Coppelia said severely, “I expect you to manage your own identity papers. Really. Here.” She reached for a small leather briefcase and offered it to Irene. “This contains Dominic Aubrey’s full particulars, including his bank accounts. See about getting the money transferred. Have Kai pose as his long-lost cousin or something. I’m sure your friend Vale will be glad to help.”

  Irene flushed. “You think so?”

  “He sounds a practical man. I think he’ll prefer to have you o
n his side.” She paused for thought. “You probably won’t get Aubrey’s office, so you must notify us once you have lodgings. That way any future visitors to the alternate will know where to find you. You will be the Librarian-in-Residence, after all.”

  “I will?” Irene said, and blushed again, this time out of genuine humility rather than simple embarrassment. Librarian-in-Residence was a post of some responsibility. It was something she hadn’t even thought about handling for decades yet. Excitement began to give way to panic. “I don’t know what to say—”

  “Thank you and goodbye should cover it,” Coppelia said briskly. “Come now. Here you are, sitting around, with Kai fretting over you and worrying himself. A word of advice. Don’t get yourself hurt if there’s a possibility of him throwing himself in the way. He’ll be far more upset about it than you will.”

  “Coppelia.” Irene took a deep breath. “Why?”

  The old woman closed her eyes for a moment. She was frail, even for the Library, and her wooden arm and legs were the only solid things about her. The rest was all fragile flesh, spider-web white hair, and eyes as cold as black stars.

  “Don’t ask,” she said, her voice tired. “Don’t say anything; then I won’t need to reply. And then later on, we can both answer truthfully that nothing was shared. You’ve always avoided asking questions in the past, but we’ve run out of time for that. It’s true that we need to know more. You know the questions. Go and find answers, and let me report back that I sent you to investigate. It’s true that you’ll be safe there from Alberich. He’s got bigger fish to hunt, that one. Let him do it. Let the rest of us throw ourselves in the way this time. Go and play detective, Irene, and do a good job of it. Make me proud of you.”

  There was a rustle at the door, then a brisk rapping.

  “That will be Kai,” Coppelia said. She opened her eyes again. “You’d better be going. He knows the way from here to the alternate’s entrance.”

  Irene swung her feet down from the couch and stood up. “Thank you,” she said. It came out grudgingly, and she tried again. “Thank you, Coppelia. I do appreciate it. That is, I am grateful.”

  “You don’t, but you will,” Coppelia said. She sighed again. “Your hands have been pieced together—I dragged old Wormius away from his runes to reattach all the bits and pieces. Another reason for you to be out in real time. They’re not going to heal here in the Library.”

  Irene realized that was true. Her hands might be stitched up and bandaged, but unless she left the Library, they’d never actually heal. “Thank you again.”

  Coppelia waited until Irene was almost at the door before saying, “Your shoes are under the couch.”

  “Couldn’t you have said that earlier?” Irene snapped, losing a lot of her gratitude. “Just a moment!” she called to the door, then trotted back to the couch to sit down and put the shoes on.

  “I’ll be expecting regular reports,” Coppelia said, watching Irene fumble at the boot-laces with her bandaged fingers. “And don’t get too involved. Remember who you are.”

  “I’m not likely to forget that,” Irene said. She finished knotting the laces and sat back. “I’m a Librarian.”

  “So you are,” Coppelia said. She didn’t speak again but nodded in dismissal, and Irene could feel her eyes on her with every step that she took towards the door.

  Kai was waiting on the other side.

  Irene managed a few confident paces down the corridor once the door had been shut safely between them and Coppelia, before her purposeful walk slowed to a halting stumble. Kai frowned and offered her his arm. Maybe he really thought she was that badly injured. Or possibly possessiveness was a characteristic of draconic affection. They were supposed to be hoarders, after all. Not so different from Librarians.

  But just for the moment—just for this single moment, on their way back to this alternate that was now her home—she could relax and appreciate what she’d been given. It was all hers. Her territory, her open treasure-box of new books to read. A new world of great detectives, zeppelins, Fae, and dragons. She wasn’t going to complain.

  And she certainly wasn’t going to run away. She had questions to ask and answers to find. She just hoped she lived long enough to enjoy it.

  Read on for an excerpt from the next Invisible Library Novel,

  THE

  MASKED

  CITY

  Coming from Roc in September 2016

  THE STUDENT LIBRARIAN’S HANDBOOK

  Excerpt from

  “Briefing Document on Orientation Amongst Various Worlds”

  Section 2.1, version 4.13

  Author: Coppelia

  Editor: Kostchei

  Reviewers: Gervase and Ntikuma

  For authorised personnel only

  Introduction

  By now you will have passed basic training and will either be working in the field with a more experienced Librarian or be preparing to do so. This confidential document is a more in-depth examination of the Library’s position towards both Fae and dragons. It will help you understand why we remain unaffiliated with either side.

  The Fae—Their Orientation Towards Chaos and Their Powers

  You will be aware of the dangers that the Fae present to humanity. They receive their nourishment from emotional interactions with humans, feeding off us in this way. And they perceive everyone other than themselves, both humans and indeed other Fae, as mere participants—fulfilling background roles—in their own personal stories. And here we have an interesting feedback loop. The more dramatic they can make their personal stories—for example, playing the role of villain, rogue, or hero—the more power a Fae can gain. And the more powerful they are, the more stereotypical this role-playing behaviour becomes. As a result of all this, a Fae’s viewpoint will grow correspondingly more sociopathic* over time.

  In terms of other dangers, the Fae display powers ranging from the ability to clothe themselves in a basic glamour (the ability to affect human perceptions of them) to the capacity to emotionally manipulate those around them. In addition, powerful Fae occasionally display specific magical or physical powers depending on the personal archetype or stereotype they have chosen to adopt.

  The Fae—Their Worlds

  The known worlds are ranged on a spectrum from order to chaos. And the further we journey into the worlds affected by chaos, the more Fae can be found there. In chaos-affected worlds, there is of course the risk of humans being open to chaos contamination. This may affect a Librarian’s powers or even prevent a Librarian from re-entering the Library. In such worlds where Fae dominate, humanity forms a background cast. Their roles range from pets to food, and they are seen as props for the psychodramas, romances, or vendettas indulged in by the Fae around them—these Fae being contaminated with chaos, body and soul. Individual or weaker Fae may be able to interact with single Librarians on a relatively “human” level. The more powerful ones either won’t want to or won’t be capable of doing this. Beware of forming alliances if apparently friendly overtures are made, as they will still have very Fae motivations.

  Fae or Dragons—Pros and Cons

  So, you might ask, why don’t we ally ourselves outright with the dragons? They stand for order, just as the Fae stand for chaos. They represent reality, in the same way that the Fae embrace and are empowered by concepts of fiction and unreality. As such, the dragons esteem the “real” and the physical world above all else, having little patience with matters of the imagination. So why shouldn’t we want to embrace* physical reality? The answer is that, in their own way, the dragons are just as biased and non-human in their viewpoint as the Fae.

  Dragons—Their Orientation Towards Order and Their Powers

  Dragons may represent the physical world—the world we can touch, if you like—but physical reality is not kind.* It is raw, brutal, and merciless. Dragons’ powers are grounded in the physical realm: they can
control the weather, the tides, the earth, and so on. Dragons are also highly practical in their thinking and see little need for discussions about democracy, human self-determination, or other such fantasies—when they consider themselves as demonstrably the most powerful creatures around. They consider they automatically have the right to rule by this token. So in the worlds where a high degree of order is present, the dragons do rule, either openly or behind the scenes.

  The Library—How It Maintains Balance

  By means of connections through its doors to multiple alternate worlds—connections forged by harvesting key books from these worlds—the Library helps maintain the balance. Its links with worlds prevent them from drifting too fast in the direction of chaos or order, and a reasonably stable environment for humans is possible somewhere in the middle.* Junior Librarians may be heavily penalised if seen to be making unauthorised pacts with the Fae. This is especially true if these are seen to undermine the Library’s all-important neutrality—which must be preserved at all costs. It should be stressed that we aren’t here in order to make judgements about what is “best for humanity.” Humanity should be left to make its own decisions. The purpose of the Library is to preserve humanity from either absolute reality or absolute unreality.

  And you will do this by collecting nominated books, to maintain the balance.

  PROLOGUE

  The London air was full of smog and filth. Kai’s senses were better than those of a human, though he tried not to be too self-indulgent about it. But even he couldn’t see down a dark alley any better than the average Londoner. And even native Londoners walked carefully in the narrow streets behind King’s Cross station.

  But where crime flourished, so, too, did detectives. And he was here to meet Peregrine Vale, friend and fighter of crime.