by Lisa Shearin
I picked up both books and considered the available space in my jerkin. There wasn’t as much room as I would have liked. “I’d like to see him try tacking me to the ceiling,” I muttered.
Vegard’s chuckle was downright evil. “I want to see him try.”
Nelek came back in record time, but he wasn’t alone. The two assistants who had brought the books stood behind him.
“We’re here for the books, ma’am,” he said, brisk and professional. Then he gave me a quick wink. “Marten and Cecil, if you would take the history volumes, I’ll take care of the other two.”
After the assistants collected the two goblin histories, Nelek held out his hand. I hesitated and then gave him the journals, never taking my eyes from his. He got the message loud and clear. If he tried to go anywhere with those books other than the front desk, I was going to tackle him.
“The chief librarian requested that I escort you to the front desk,” Nelek said, watching the two librarians walk around the corner and into the stacks. His mouth curled in a tiny, conspiratorial smile. “If you’ll follow me, we’ll take care of your request.”
Vegard and I traded a look. You gotta love friends in high places.
A tall figure stepped out of the stacks, blocking our way.
His hair was the color of winter frost, eyes the pale blue of arctic ice, an alabaster complexion, a cold, sharp beauty. Pure-blooded high elf. His black and silver robes were understated and elegant, and clearly cost a small fortune.
Nelek instinctively clutched the books to his chest. “Magus Silvanus, always a pleasure to see you.” The librarian didn’t sound pleased in the least; he sounded terrified.
So this was Carnades Silvanus, senior mage on the Seat of Twelve, Ailia Aurillac’s faculty advisor, and parental brownnoser.
I sensed Vegard and Riston come to reluctant attention behind me. They had to. The Guardians’ main duty was the protection of the archmagus and the mages of the Seat of Twelve.
Silvanus was as tall as Mychael, which put the top of my head level with his jaw. He looked down on me—in more ways than one. I’ve always made it a point not to dislike someone on first sight, but I was willing to make an exception for this one. Gleaming against the black silk of his robes, a mirrored disk dangled at the end of a silver chain. A high elf and a mirror mage—no wonder I didn’t like him.
“You must be Raine Benares, the seeker we’ve heard so much about.” Silvanus smiled, revealing perfect teeth. The smile was as fake as the charm he tried to put into his voice. “I’m Carnades Silvanus.”
He extended his hand for mine, palm up, his long fingers slightly curled. He was going for a hand kiss, not a handshake. I was brought up to believe that it’s rude not to shake someone’s hand. I was also brought up to trust my instincts. The touch of a hand was all it took for some mages to assess another’s magical strengths or weaknesses. I didn’t want Carnades Silvanus knowing either of mine.
I inclined my head; I tried for gracious. “Magus Silvanus.”
He left his hand out a moment longer, then slowly lowered it, never taking those arctic eyes from mine. “I understand you’re assisting the city watch in their investigation of Ailia Aurillac’s disappearance.”
“I understand it’s a kidnapping.”
“So it appears. Have you made any progress in your investigation?” he asked politely.
“The paladin and chief watcher are aware of my findings. Since the investigation is ongoing, I can’t discuss them publicly.”
His smile was back. “But you are a private consultant— and I’m hardly the public.”
“The paladin or chief watcher will have to determine who knows my findings.” I tried a fake smile of my own. “That decision’s not mine to make. I’m only a consultant on this case and a guest on this island.”
“My apologies, Mistress Benares. I meant no offense. I merely asked out of concern for Miss Aurillac’s safe return.”
“We’re all concerned about that. I understand you’re her faculty advisor.”
“I am. Miss Aurillac is a splendid young lady and one of our top scholars.”
I glanced at his mirror pendant. “So her specialty is mirror magic?”
“Ailia is gifted in many areas and has yet to choose a specific area of study. But yes, one of them is mirror magic.”
“And the others?”
“She has an interest in spellsinging and alchemy.”
I snorted to myself. Like her daddy’s coffers didn’t have enough gold. I’ll bet I knew what he wanted her to major in.
“I want to thank you for what you did in the square yesterday,” Silvanus said. “I was on that stage. Your skills are very impressive—your strength even more so.”
“You’re welcome.” Thanks was the last thing I expected from him. It’s been my experience that if one hand is extending an olive branch, the other hand is about to stab you in the back. “I’m glad I was there to help.”
Carnades saw the books in Nelek’s hands. “Ah, Rudra Muralin’s journal. I understand you’ve been studying all afternoon, Mistress Benares. Study is admirable.”
One of my hands curled into a fist, ready to fight for that journal if I had to. “You’re familiar with Muralin’s works?”
“I have a keen interest in goblin history. It’s a hobby of mine.”
“An elf studying goblin history. That’s unusual.”
“Understanding your enemy is the first step to defeating him. Education is the key to that, not ignorance. We bury our past at our peril.”
I could add bigot to the list of reasons why I didn’t like Carnades Silvanus.
“My interest is academic,” Silvanus said. “What is your interest?”
“The same as yours,” I shot back smoothly. “Education.”
A boom shattered the silence and I almost jumped out of my skin. A black-robed librarian quickly bent and scooped up the massive book that had landed flat on the marble floor.
I felt the barest touch on my wrist. Silvanus.
My memories of the past week flashed through my mind in an instant.
I reacted instinctively, which meant in the next instant Silvanus’s hand was twisted at what I knew to be a painful angle. Any hand that touched me without permission got treated the same way; it didn’t matter if he was man or mage. No means no.
Vegard and Riston weren’t at attention anymore, and I think Nelek was about to faint. I held up my other hand indicating that they should not interfere. To my surprise, they stayed put.
“I’m not that kind of girl,” I told Silvanus quietly. “If you have a question for me, ask it.”
The mage’s breath came in a pained hiss. “You’re infected with that filthy goblin rock.”
I leaned in close. “And you’re rude. You don’t touch anyone with a questing spell. If I wanted you to know my memories, I’d tell you.”
Silvanus thought a word. It wasn’t a very nice word. I’d also been called worse before.
Neither one of us moved or blinked. After another moment or two, I released Silvanus’s hand and took a step back. I liked Vegard and Riston, and I didn’t want them to magically bite off more than they could chew. Carnades Silvanus was the senior mage on the Seat of Twelve, and if the power I’d felt coming off him was any indication, my two Guardians would be in way over their heads. I didn’t want a fight. I wanted to take my books and get out of there.
Silvanus’s pale eyes glittered. “You are a danger to everyone on this island. You should be locked up—and I’m going to see to it that you are.”
With that, he turned and left, the heels of his boots echoing sharply on the marble floor.
Vegard stepped up beside me. “Are you all right, ma’am?”
I never took my eyes off of Silvanus’s retreating back. “Never been better.”
The big Guardian shifted uneasily. “If anything happens to Justinius Valerian, he’s in charge.”
That was one more scary thought.
“We try
to take really good care of the old man,” he assured me.
Silvanus’s silk robes swept around the corner. I kept my eyes on the spot. “Let me know if I can help.”
Lucan Kalta’s meeting must have ended early. He was waiting for us at the front desk. Nelek’s good friend must have been the sick-looking librarian standing behind Kalta.
Crap.
On the upside, Carnades Silvanus couldn’t lock me up until Lucan Kalta unpeeled me from the ceiling. I glanced up. The student wasn’t on the ceiling anymore, which left plenty of room for me, my inner pessimist chimed in.
I turned to Nelek. “Give me the books. I’ll take it from here.”
His eyes went enormous under his spectacles. He presented the books to me like I was condemned and the books were my last meal.
I sighed. “Yeah, I know. It’s not going to be pretty.”
I turned and stepped up to the desk and Lucan Kalta. “I would like to check out these two books for the paladin.”
Kalta smiled. I’d never thought of Death as the smiling sort, but give this guy a scythe, set him at the gates of the lower hells, and no one would know the difference.
“I understand checking out books for the paladin is done quite often,” I said reasonably. “As I’m sure you know, the paladin is a busy man.”
Kalta’s smile broadened and he held up two sheets of paper. I recognized them.
The chief librarian leisurely glanced at one, then the other. “Let’s see, Mistress Benares. The first is a letter from the paladin granting you access to the Scriptorium. The second is the list of the books the paladin requested that you see.” He carefully folded both pages and put them in the envelope we’d brought them in. His black eyes narrowed gleefully. “Neither page mentions allowing you to remove any book from this Scriptorium.” He held out a skeletal hand. “The books, if you please.”
I made no move to hand them over. Kalta’s smile turned from satisfaction to anticipation. My smile told him to bring it on.
“An oversight on my part,” Mychael said from behind Lucan Kalta. “As Mistress Benares said, I am a busy man.”
Kalta’s breath came out on a hiss. I think I might have growled. When I started a fight, I wanted to finish it. I know; it’s not one of my better qualities. I hesitated, then took one step back from Kalta. I had to take the civilized high road sometime. Kalta’s professional mask slid back into place.
“Are there checkout forms prepared for my signature?” Mychael asked mildly.
Nelek’s librarian friend held out two pieces of paper. His hands were shaking.
Mychael took them, and looked around the desk. “Does anyone have a pen?”
Chaos ensued as all of the librarians on duty scrambled to get the paladin a pen. Their cooperation warmed my heart. Kalta shot a withering look at Nelek. The little librarian quickly looked down at his shoes and then resolutely met his boss’s eyes. He didn’t look away again. Someone had just grown himself a backbone. I resisted the urge to wink at him. I didn’t want to get him in any more trouble than he already was.
Mychael signed the checkout forms, and gave them to an expressionless Lucan Kalta. I walked through the opening in the counter with my two books, Vegard and Riston right behind me. The books didn’t vanish, and I didn’t float up to the ceiling.
“Thank you for your assistance, Lucan,” Mychael said. “I will have these returned as soon as I’ve finished with them.”
He fell into step next to me.
“Your timing is impeccable,” I whispered as we walked toward the doors and freedom.
Mychael’s voice was next to my ear. “Timing had nothing to do with it. Though I was hardly surprised to find you nose to nose with Lucan Kalta.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just what I said. You are who you are; he is who he is. I was not surprised. As to my timing, I received a report that Carnades Silvanus was seen hurrying into the Scriptorium; you weren’t seen coming out. The Seat of Twelve knew about the Saghred even before we docked with it. And knowing how Carnades feels about anything goblin…”
I felt a little smile coming on. “So you came after me.”
“I came after you.”
My little smile widened to a grin. “I hope you left your white charger outside.”
Mychael’s blue eyes lit with boyish humor. “I did. I didn’t think our chief librarian would approve of the mess he’d make.”
“The chief librarian doesn’t approve of me, either.” Mychael chuckled. “So I saw.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. Lucan Kalta’s a fine librarian, but he can be a pompous ass. What books did I go to all that trouble to check out?”
“Highly restricted books. I’ll tell you more when we’re out of here.”
Mychael sighed. “Lucan doesn’t let go of those lightly.”
“Especially to people like me. That’s why I was glad a person like you came along to check them out for me. It kept Lucan Kalta from trying to tack me to the ceiling. It would have gotten ugly. No one tacks me anywhere.”
“If you had crossed through that counter with restricted books, Lucan would be well within his legal rights to tack you to the ceiling—or since you’re not a student or faculty, he could have had you arrested.”
I grinned. “Would you be the one doing the arresting?”
“Not under normal circumstances. But since I was there, my duty would call on me to be the arresting officer.” There was a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
My grin broadened. “Would there be cuffs involved?”
“Only if you resisted arrest.”
“Oh, I can guarantee you I’d resist arrest. You’d have your hands full.”
“I already do,” he muttered.
Chapter 9
It was dark when we left the Scriptorium. I guess time flies when you’re not having fun. Yesterday I’d been inside the Saghred and pissed off Sarad Nukpana. Today I’d been inside the Conclave Scriptorium and pissed off its chief librarian and one of the Seat of Twelve. Not exactly the ending I had in mind for my second day on the island.
I heard a snort and smelled sulfur. There was a Guardian holding a pair of reins. The reins weren’t attached to Mychael’s white charger—or maybe they had been and the dragon had eaten him. The insides of the dragon’s nostrils glowed orange with restrained flame. If he sneezed, the Guardian holding his reins was toast.
Mychael saw my look. “His name is Kalinpar.”
“That’s not a white charger.”
Mychael smiled. “No, he’s not, but he is the quickest way to get around the city.”
“You came here on that?”
“Like I said, the quickest way.”
I didn’t doubt that. Kalinpar was about twice the size of the biggest horse I’d ever seen. I’d never seen a sentry dragon this close, but I’d heard they were nimble and quick enough to fly and land pretty much anywhere they wanted to. They were popular with law enforcement in the bigger cities. Looking at this big brute, I understood why.
Kalinpar looked pissed, too. Though he hadn’t met me yet, so it couldn’t have been my fault. Or maybe it was. He’d had to wait out here on account of me. Or maybe that was just his normal expression. Either way, I was in no hurry to share the saddle that was strapped to his scaled back. I’d had enough close calls for one day.
“Can’t we just walk back to the citadel?” I asked Mychael. In addition to Vegard and Riston, there were at least a dozen armed Guardians with us. “I don’t think anyone’s going to try anything. I’m safe.”
Mychael raised one brow and didn’t say a word.
I stared back at him. “I’m not going to try anything, either.” I sighed and raised the hand that wasn’t holding the books. “I promise not to attack anyone, steal anything, or break any more of your laws.” I stopped and thought for a moment. “Tonight. The way things have been going I can’t make any guarantees about tomorrow.”
Myc
hael regarded me for a moment, then turned to the Guardian holding the dragon’s reins. “Allyn, would you take Kalinpar back to the stables? We’ll be escorting Miss Benares back to the citadel on foot.”
“Yes, sir.” The Guardian hesitated. “When I land, would you like me to send reinforcements?”
“Only if we’re not back within the hour.”
I looked from one to the other. I think they were joking. Vegard chuckled from behind me. I resisted the urge to punch him and Mychael. Too bad I’d just promised not to attack anyone.
The Guardian swung into the saddle, strapped down his leg restraints, and with two strong wingbeats the dragon had cleared the tops of the surrounding buildings. With a parting plume of flame, he and his rider were gone.
Mychael took my hand and linked my arm through his. It could have been a gallant gesture of a gentleman walking a lady home, or it could have been Mychael making sure I stayed out of trouble. He had one of my hands; my other hand clutched the books. Regardless of his reasons, it was nice and cozy—even if we were surrounded by heavily armed Guardians. The night was cool; Mychael was warm. My night was starting to look much better than my day.
Mychael glanced down at me. “Tell me about Carnades.”
So much for nice and cozy.
I hit the high points. Mychael’s frown became more pronounced with each point. I didn’t know if that look of stern disapproval was for Carnades Silvanus or me.
“I just had his hand in a vise,” I protested indignantly. “It wasn’t like I had a dagger in his ribs. ‘Hand in a vise’ is simple assault or, in my case, self-defense. ‘Dagger in the ribs’ is attempted murder. My family did teach me the difference.”
“Do you want to press charges?” Mychael asked.
I blinked in surprise. Apparently the disapproving look was for Carnades Silvanus.
“Me press charges?” That’d be a first for a Benares.
“Yes, you press charges. A questing spell is considered assault. Do you want to press charges?”
“I think he knows not to do it anymore.”
“Did it ever occur to you to let Vegard and Riston handle it?”
“She asked us not to, sir,” Vegard said from behind us.
