‘Then where in Venice are they?’
‘If I knew, my lady Winters, then I would tell you, but unfortunately I don’t know. The Ten consider it, shall we say, inappropriate to share that sort of information, and I have to say that I see their point. But all my sources do agree that you can only reach the Carceri from somewhere here in Venice.’
In that case there was little point wasting her time questioning him further. ‘So, Lord Silver, to summarize: Kai is somewhere here, in a prison that can only be reached from this city, but you don’t know where the entrance is, or how to get in, or what the conditions inside may be - except in terms that a pseudo-Gothic melodramatic author would consider overblown. And you are, I presume, unwilling to be of any further assistance, in case it is traced back to you. Though if I am caught, we both know Lord and Lady Guantes will assume that you were to blame in any case.’
‘Accurate on the whole,’ Silver agreed. ‘Except for that comment on my prose style.’
‘Well, in that case, Lord Silver …’ Irene considered her immediate needs. ‘I need a pair of shoes, a cloak or shawl, some money, a knife and directions to the nearest large collection of books. Given all that, I will do my best to avoid contacting you again.’
Silver frowned. ‘Is that bribery, my lady?’
Irene rose to her feet. ‘Merely pointing out our mutual advantage, Lord Silver. You will no doubt be watched, if the Guantes suspect you. If I stay well away from you, it’s safer for both of us.’
Silver considered, toying with the collar of his dressing gown. Finally he said, ‘You may be right, my lady. Johnson! See to all of that, if you please. And one more thing.’ He took a step closer. ‘I wasn’t speaking in jest when I said the airs of this place will be antithetical to your dragon. As a Librarian, you are neutral to it, and you’re wearing the tokens I gave you, which shield you a little. The dragon is purely antagonistic to this world. Once you release him, you had best make plans to remove him from this sphere as fast as possible. And yourself, too.’
‘I don’t intend to stay,’ Irene said flatly. ‘This place may be your ideal holiday destination, sir, but it is hardly mine.’
Silver shook his head sadly. ‘Some day, my lady, some day.’ He gestured towards Johnson, who promptly filled Irene’s arms with a bundle of fabric. ‘Johnson, is that … ?’
‘The requested items, sir,’ Johnson said tonelessly. ‘And the most appropriate library for this person’s wishes will probably be the Biblioteca Marciana - that is, the Library of St Mark.’ He rattled off a list of directions, and Irene frowned as she committed them to memory. It was close - well, fairly close - to the Piazza San Marco, and if she remembered correctly, that was the main city square. This could be good or it could be bad. At least it should mean large crowds.
‘That will do,’ Silver said as Johnson fell silent. ‘My lady, kindly excuse me. I have a full morning ahead of me, and you have roused me early, so I may as well take advantage of it.’ His smile contained nothing specific to which she could take offence, but it managed to imply a dozen things, all of them sensual.
‘I’ll be on my way then,’ she said, as silence filled the room.
‘If you truly need me,’ Silver said, ‘I will be at the opera later today, at the performance that precedes the auction. Look for me there.’
‘Let’s hope I don’t have to,’ Irene said bluntly. She turned away from him, striding towards the door.
Johnson held it open for her. He leaned in towards her. ‘Get him in trouble,’ he hissed, his tone suddenly sharp, suddenly human, ‘and I’ll kill you.’
He slammed the door behind her.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The first thing Irene did was get some food and a cup of coffee.
Well, that was her initial objective. First she had to pad her new shoes until they fitted, wrap her new shawl round her head and shoulders, hide her new knife (small but sharp) and her purse, then make her way to the Piazza San Marco. She’d find a hoard of cafes there, and she needed to scope out the area near the Biblioteca Marciana.
Her fingers brushed the jade pendant again. She only had until midnight. The sense of urgency that goaded her on made any wasted time feel criminal, even stopping for food. But, unlike the Fae, she was still human, and had human needs
The Piazza San Marco was only a few hundred yards from the Gritti Palace. Irene confirmed her status as a new arrival by standing still the moment she entered it, nearly being run over by the people behind her. It was … it was so full of light. The huge public square had what must be the Basilica at one end, topped with bulbous domes and covered with marbles and mosaics. It was imposing and glorious and, yes, utterly beautiful. The light flowed around it as if it had risen from the waves, and it blazed with gold and colour. To the right of and joined to the Basilica there was another huge building. It was rectangular, more prosaic, despite its pastel colouring. It was built from marble in shades of pink and white, which would have looked trite or washed-out under English sunlight - but in the Venetian morning light it glowed, triumphant and powerful. Other buildings lined the sides of the Piazza, and a high bell tower stood in the middle, constructed from fluted red brick, topped with marble and bronze. It was also at least a hundred yards tall. Well, it might have been a little shorter, but it looked at least a hundred yards tall. Last night it had felt as if she was drowning in the omnipresent water and mists. Today, in the sunlight, it felt as if she was floating on them - as if all Venice was floating.
The square was full of people. And with this many people, what were the odds on someone spotting her as an impostor? Too high for comfort, she thought.
Her destination was just off the main Piazza, with the Doge’s Palace on one side, and the building that should be the Biblioteca Marciana on the other side. There were also plenty of small cafes there, which gave her an excuse to sit down with a cup of coffee and a roll, and think.
Irene could see out onto the lagoon from her table: the wide space of open water bordered by Venice itself on one side, and the Lido islands on the other. The Train was a dark stationary streak in the distance, lying across the water on its impossible track, gleaming like a midnight-black centipede in the brilliant sunlight.
She watched the crowd, and the people using the Biblioteca Marciana. She listened to the conversations around her, planned and scoped out escape routes. She couldn’t expect anything more from Silver. But, with any luck, she wouldn’t need anything more from him. The Biblioteca Marciana should give her access to the Library. She then needed to find these Carceri where Kai was being held, then somehow get him out and make a run for it.
She stared into her nearly empty cup, letting herself settle into the ebb and flow of Italian around her. It wasn’t one of her best languages, but full immersion was helping. She could already distinguish a discussion about the scandalous goings-on at a local convent, even if the precise meaning of certain nouns was a little vague.
Looking up, she surveyed the Biblioteca Marciana. It wasn’t as tall as some of the other buildings and she could count a ground floor, a first floor and a gently slanted roof that might hold a second floor, or at least an attic - all of it in smooth pink-and-white marble picked out with gilding. A pillared arcade surrounded the building and she could see a balcony featuring yet more pillars on the first floor, these connected by arches. Friezes were carved into the gleaming marble, showing heraldic beasts or heads with swags of foliage beneath them. Any attempt to get in through the windows or over the roof would be painfully obvious, which meant using the main door. But, given the crowds doing the same, she shouldn’t stand out.
As she walked towards the entrance she couldn’t banish the image of herself as a tiny beetle walking across a human’s exposed skin. Learning how far the Ten’s power extended throughout the city had given her an extra sense of paranoia. And indeed, as greater Fae, they might perceive her through the very pavements of the city. How sensitive are the Ten anyway, and can they sense me? Would th
ey care about me, or am I instant anathema to them? Do I itch, and would they scratch?
Irene shuffled up a huge staircase of gilt and stucco, just behind a group of young scholars loudly discussing Petrarch. She walked past marble pillars and windows that looked out onto the Piazza below.
Here and there people sat at desks, carefully turning the pages of manuscripts, or unrolling scrolls and making notes. It comforted her. This is a place built to store books, by people who wanted to preserve books, and used by people who want to read those books. I am not alone.
She finally stepped out into a large reading room. The sudden sensation of space and emptiness made her pause, and she looked up to see the ceiling more than two floors above. On the two higher floors, open galleries surrounded the space, fronted with balustrades. But behind these she could see bookshelves and doors leading further into the depths of the building. That was what she wanted.
Fifteen minutes later she had finally managed to find a way up to a quiet section amongst those stacks. And to a storeroom. That would do nicely. This was a library, that was a door - all she needed, to open an entrance to the Library proper.
She took a relieved breath, forced herself to relax and focus and said in the Language, ‘Open to the Library.’
And nothing happened.
Her first reaction was the basic annoyance that accompanies something as simple as sauce not coming out of a bottle, or a website not loading on the first attempt.
‘Open to the Library,’ she said again, focusing on each individual word.
Her voice fell into nothingness. There was no feeling of change, of connection.
This time panic curdled in her stomach. She’d never been in an alternate where she couldn’t reach the Library. She hadn’t thought it possible to be in an alternate where she couldn’t reach the Library.
Except that she’d never ventured so far into chaos before. And in the Library itself, she belatedly recalled, doorways to high-chaos alternates were sectioned off and chained. Access was barred because these were simply too dangerous. And if they were blocked at the Library end, did that mean they were inaccessible from this side too?
‘Open to the Library!’ Irene snapped, her voice sharp with terror.
There was no answer.
She clung to one of the shelves on her right and her fingers bit into the wood hard enough to hurt. I’m trapped here, she thought. This wasn’t a fear that she’d even considered before. It was new and horrifying, an abyss suddenly opening right in front of her feet.
Someone coughed from behind her. ‘This is an astonishing place,’ a woman’s voice said, ‘but I do think that you’re neglecting the more interesting parts.’
Irene’s fingers dug even harder into the shelf as she turned to see who had spoken.
Lady Guantes was standing there, serene in a deep-green gown, her hands gloved in white. She had Irene covered with a pistol. Like most guns that had been pointed at her, it looked far too large. It was turning out to be one of those days, after all. Lady Guantes was holding it in what looked unpromisingly like a professional grip, with both hands on the stock.
Should I pretend to be an innocent local? It might be worth a try.
‘I should point out that I said that in English,’ Lady Guantes said. ‘Any attempt to convince me that you’re an innocent local should take that into account, Miss Winters.’
Irene had always felt that one of the most important strategic virtues was knowing when to concede a loss. ‘I just can’t stay away from a good library,’ she said, keeping to English. ‘It’s an addiction with me. Do you have the same problem?’
‘Please don’t try to be funny. It was only logical that you’d come to the biggest local library to look for help.’ The gun didn’t waver. ‘And if you try to say anything that sounds peculiar, rest assured that I will shoot.’
Which meant that using the word ‘gun’ in any context would probably result in immediate injury. A pity. Saying something along the lines of May your gun explode in your hand sorted out so many of life’s little problems.
There was a pause.
‘It’s difficult for me to speak freely when you might shoot me at any moment,’ Irene pointed out. ‘But I assume you don’t want to shoot me, or you would have done so already.’
‘You’re very casual about your safety,’ Lady Guantes said. She still had that gracious air of approachability and common sense that Irene remembered from the railway station, but there was something new. Nervousness? Could she be nervous? Of me?
‘There are degrees of danger,’ Irene said. If she kept talking, perhaps she could figure a way out. Silver had described Lady Guantes as weaker than Lord Guantes. How did that stack up against a Librarian? ‘There’s immediate peril of death, which is one thing, and then there’s immediate peril of a fate worse than death, which is something else again. And then there’s the less immediate fear of potential death. And all scenarios should be handled on a case-by-case basis. I’d rather talk than do something irretrievable. Do you feel the same way?’
‘You’re a Librarian.’ Lady Guantes put the same delicate disgust into the word that someone else might have used for mercenaries, colonoscopy or mad dogs and Englishmen. ‘Letting you do so much as talk is dangerous.’
‘You might at least explain what you want, then,’ Irene suggested. If the other woman was talking, then she wasn’t shooting.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Well, I’m sure you have a motive for being here.’ Was Lady Guantes keeping Irene covered until backup arrived to take her into custody? Or was she simply opportunistic, with a pistol in one hand and an enemy in front of her, and no idea what to do next? ‘In my place, wouldn’t you be curious?’
Lady Guantes raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you suggesting you’re open to an alliance?’
Irene shrugged. ‘I want to know what the stakes are, and what’s in play. You’ve heard of us, you know we’re usually neutrals and only interested in books. Why did you set your thugs on me?’
‘On which occasion?’
Irene blinked. ‘There was more than one?’
‘Two, actually. The first time was after the book auction you attended. I wanted to see how you and the dragon would handle an assault. It convinced me that I needed to separate you, before kidnapping him. The second time was a bit more off-the-cuff, I admit.’
At least that explained why those hired thugs had been so inefficient. ‘More casual? It felt quite serious at the time.’
Lady Guantes sighed. ‘That was your own fault. You and the detective moved too quickly. If things had worked out as I’d planned, you and Mr Vale would still have been trying to find out where the dragon was by the time the auction had taken place here. His family would have arrived to investigate the world from which he was kidnapped, and you, as his superior, would have ended up taking the immediate blame for his disappearance. That would have embarrassed the Library, and kept them off-balance and on the defensive when the war started. Of course the dragons would have known we were ultimately responsible, but my husband and I would have been well out of their reach by then - and they’d have welcomed a scapegoat or two. As it was, I had to hire some muscle in quite a hurry. It isn’t the way I like to operate. If I’d known I was going to have to kill you eventually, I could have hired a sniper well in advance. It would have been so much tidier.’
‘If the dragon’s family had come to investigate, that world being his last known location, it would have had very serious consequences for that world - not just for Vale and me,’ Irene pointed out.
‘I wasn’t planning to visit it again.’
A little trickle of cold fear worked its way down Irene’s spine. But it mingled with a growing anger at the implications of the woman’s words. Ao Shun had made it clear that they would destroy Vale’s world, if they held it to blame for Kai’s disappearance. And Lady Guantes clearly knew it. Irene could almost admire the woman’s thoroughness in covering her trail, but at the same tim
e was revolted by her sheer cold-bloodedness.
And now she had absolute confirmation from the woman’s own mouth that she was involved in Kai’s kidnapping. I’m not here for vengeance, Irene considered. But I certainly wouldn’t mind making sure she never tries such a thing again. ‘So you don’t want to kill me now,’ she said, keeping her voice even and biting back her fury.
‘Well, obviously not, now that I’ve got you here,’ Lady Guantes said. ‘You’re much more valuable alive.’
‘As an ally?’ Irene said hopefully.
‘It’s not impossible.’
‘Or … ?’ She let the sentence trail off, to see if it would get a response.
‘As a Librarian, certain people would find you interesting. As yourself, Miss Winters, certain other people would find you even more interesting.’ She smiled in a way that suggested the whole question was far too unpleasant for nice people such as them to discuss.
Irene blinked. ‘I’m astonished,’ she said. ‘I had no idea I had such a reputation. In fact, I had no idea I had any reputation at all.’ There had been a few encounters with Fae, and there had of course been the whole business with banishing Alberich - who was indeed a dangerous and notable traitor. But she hadn’t thought it was the subject of casual gossip. It made her feel rather exposed.
Lady Guantes looked a little embarrassed. ‘Well, “notorious” might be more accurate. But please don’t take it the wrong way. It’s a compliment.’
‘I’m flattered.’
‘And it does make me wonder why you’re doing this.’ She turned that serene, understanding gaze on Irene again. ‘Self-defence is one thing, but this spontaneous expedition deep into our territory isn’t what I would call sensible. And you do seem a sensible woman, Miss Winters.’
Irene shifted her weight a little. It didn’t draw any reaction from the levelled gun. Good, she isn’t going to shoot me for twitching. ‘So if we both appreciate common sense - what is your motivation in this?’
The Masked City Page 19
