But there was no choice. Leaving Daphne behind in the reading room, she stepped into the office and through the hanging mirror on the wall. Like most magical buildings, the Great Library had a reflection within the mirrors, an alternate dimension that could only be accessed by its staff. Elaine felt her head swim as she entered the mirror world and looked around. Great stacks of books lay everywhere, some covered with dust that suggested they hadn’t been touched for a thousand years. There were some books, Elaine knew, that hadn’t been opened even during the worst days of the Necromantic Wars. Miss Prim had told her that the sorcerers of those days had feared the secrets within the books far more than they’d feared the Witch-King and his armies of undead servants.
Where the mundane world had the reading rooms and other compartments for the staff, the mirrored world had endless rooms of books. Elaine picked up the list, selected the first title, and concentrated, allowing the magic in the Great Library to guide her to the book. It had been stuffed into a nearby room and buried under a pile of other dusty tomes, as if the last user had taken care to hide it from casual view. Only the staff – and the senior wizards – were permitted access to the mirrored dimension, and the magic in the Library made it impossible to hide anything permanently, but someone had definitely tried to conceal it. Elaine glanced at the title as she pulled it out from its hiding place, shaking her head. A tome on ways to boost one’s own power reserves by uniting with other magicians was the last thing Millicent should have needed. Elaine knew, to her everlasting regret, that Millicent had power to spare. And why would her aunt have given her permission to read the books anyway?
She mulled over the question as she found the other books on the list. One of them was on transfiguration, ways to maintain a change long enough for reality to catch up with the spell, while another was on ways to brew complicated potions. Two of the books were written in a language that had been dead and gone for a thousand years, although a simple translation spell would allow Millicent to read them. And one of them talked about bargains that could be made with the gods. Elaine smiled savagely as she added that one to the growing pile of books. There were enough cautionary tales about magicians who tried to bargain with the gods to make her hope that was what Millicent had in mind. But then, Millicent was good at avoiding blame for her actions. Maybe she’d manage to charm the gods too.
One of the books was out already, according to the Library. It was a strange book, one that discussed ways to tame magical creatures like werewolves and mermaids, at least according to Millicent’s notes. Elaine suspected that it was actually something far darker. They’d learned about potions that could be made by someone with access to werewolf fur, or mermaid scales, potions that were quite definitely on the forbidden list. But Millicent would have to wait for it, she told herself as she walked back towards the mirror. There were strict rules against disturbing one patron because another wanted a book.
The mirror flickered around her as she stepped back into the normal world, carrying the books with her. Millicent had said that she would be in Room Fourteen, naturally. Room Fourteen was normally reserved for senior wizards and while Millicent didn’t count as a senior wizard, no one was likely to argue with Lady Light Spinner’s favourite niece. The door opened as Elaine approached, spying Millicent seated on one of the comfortable chairs and reading through one of the older catalogues. They dated back to the time before one of the first librarians had designed the spells that automatically updated the catalogues when a book was added to the Library’s stock. No book was ever allowed to
leave
the Great Library, even one that had been thoroughly disproved by later research. The very thought was blasphemous.
“There’s an article in
Alchemical Monthly
about a new version of Luminous Potion,” Millicent said, in an almost friendly tone. And then she reverted to form. “But you wouldn’t care about that, would you? Your potion skills were non-existent.”
Elaine ignored her as best she could. Millicent was right, of course. Elaine hadn’t had great success with potions, although surprisingly few students became Potion Masters. It required skill, patience and innate talent, all traits that Elaine lacked. But she’d managed to master enough potions to pass her exams, even if she hadn’t made any of them since she’d left the Peerless School. Even the potions designed to help with female issues were easier – and safer – to buy from a local apothecary.
But she
was
a good librarian. “Your books,” she said, shortly. “I’m afraid that one of them is currently out on loan to one of the other readers, but I’ll pick it up for you when it is returned.”
Surprisingly, Millicent didn’t choose to make an issue of it. “Leave them here, Frogeye,” she said, taking the first book from the stack and blowing off the dust. “And here’s the next list.”
Elaine sighed. “I’ll go find them for you,” she said, wearily.
“Hop to it,” Millicent said. She chuckled, as if she hadn’t been making the same joke for three years. “I’ll let you know when I need you.”
She kept Elaine busy for nearly an hour before Miss Prim finally arrived and ordered Elaine to deal with someone else. Elaine, relieved, spent the rest of the morning in a different part of the Library, dealing with customers who all seemed to want to brush up on their spells and studies of ancient magic. Maybe it did make a certain kind of sense, she resolved, after finding yet another pile of books. The Grand Sorcerer was dying, after all. Millicent had mentioned that her aunt would be the next Grand Sorceress, suggesting that Lady Light Spinner definitely intended to try to compete herself. Elaine couldn’t think of that as anything other than bad news. If Millicent was unbearable now, what would she be like if her aunt became the Grand Sorceress?
The question nagged at her mind as she took a break and then walked down to the workroom below the main Library. Miss Prim kept her staff moving from position to position, ensuring that they had the experience to take on any role at a moment’s notice. Elaine had been told to start examining a new consignment of books that had been left to the Library, but she hadn’t had time to start on it for several days. It was a relief to finally have a chance to get to work on the boxes. This was
real
librarianship.
Every magician in the world – and everyone who fancied themselves a magician – collected books on magic. There were thousands of copies of some common spellbooks, along with books on theory and books on creatures that had been touched by magic. None of
them
were on the prohibited index, although it wasn’t unknown for a long-lost copy of a prohibited book to emerge when a dead would-be magician’s collection was examined. Some of the books had been very dangerous, only prevented from causing harm by the fact that their owner barely had enough magic to light a candle. According to Miss Prim, several copies of
Shade’s Darkest Shadow
had only been found when the boxes of books had been opened in the Great Library. Elaine knew better than to doubt her.
She’d run through the standard curse and hex detection spells when the boxes had arrived in the Great Library, but she ran through them again before she picked up the first box and deposited it on her worktable. Nothing showed up as dangerous, which didn’t mean anything; it was easy enough to conceal a hex from most of the detection spells. Elaine braced herself and muttered an incantation under her breath. The spells that bound the box together came apart, allowing her to remove the wood and stack it up neatly in one corner. Inside, a small pile of books awaited her attention. She paused, long enough to enjoy the thrill of not knowing what she’d find inside the box, and then picked up the first book. It was disappointing.
Common Magic
was a standard reference work for students, but even Elaine had long since surpassed it.
Shaking her head, she reached for the notes that recorded where the books had come from and skimmed through them. Duke Gama, the younger brother of King Hildebrand, had fancied himself a magician, like many of the younger nobility. No real power, according to the notes, but that hadn’t stopped him buying up every magical book he could lay his hands on. Some of the less scrupulous traders had probably enriched themselves at his expense, Elaine realised, as she pulled up a pair of books that were known hoaxes. Duke Gama hadn’t had the experience or magic to tell when someone was trying to con him into buying worthless parchment. Elaine put the two books to one side, marked for disposal. The Great Library’s laws against not throwing out books didn’t apply to books of false spells and non-existent powers. No wonder Duke Gama hadn’t achieved anything when he’d tried to work magic.
The next book was much more interesting – and, like Millicent’s reading list, one step short of prohibited.
Naming of Demons
should have been on the prohibited list, but there were so many copies out in the world that even the Inquisition regarded attempting to track them all down as futile. There were no instructions on how one could
summon
demons, yet merely knowing their names and natures could give a lucky amateur a chance at calling them up from the darkness. Elaine glanced at two of the pages, shook her head at some of the illustrations, and then placed it on the trolley. Miss Prim would have to inspect the copy, determine if it was identical to the others stored within the Great Library, and then decide what to do with it. She’d undoubtedly end up adding it to the Library’s collection. Duke Gama’s ghost would probably be pleased at the thought.
The next five books were cheap trash from a basement printer, a series of hopelessly unrealistic novels about a wizard who seemed to have so much power that it was hard to see how he ever had any problems at all. Elaine remembered reading a couple of them while she’d been in school, only to marvel at how many inaccuracies the unknown writer had managed to stuff into a handful of slim volumes. Even the Grand Sorcerer would have had problems matching the hero’s spell-casting ability, although maybe he would have had as many girls throwing themselves at him as the hero. Magical talents bred true; everyone knew that. She felt herself flush as she recalled an offer made to her by one of Millicent’s peers, a magician with more magic in his little finger than Elaine had in her entire body. He’d thought that she would jump at the chance to have his baby.
She added the novels to the pile for disposal and then picked up the next book – and found herself flushing again.
A Guide To Sex Magic
wasn’t anywhere near the prohibited list, even though it was one of the more dangerous books ever written – if used by someone who didn’t know what they were doing. It was possible to use sex to generate magical power – the illustrations left absolutely nothing to the imagination – but it required intense concentration and a dedication that surpassed even the most sour-faced of Potion Masters. Her generation of magical students had preferred to pass dog-eared copies around and use them as props when trying to pick up the opposite sex. Memories of the days when some of the boys had discovered copies and tried to talk the girls into bed – for research purposes, naturally – left her flushing darker. Why did some people, like Millicent, manage to glide their way through life when others, like Elaine, just kept stumbling?
The final book caught her eye and she picked it up, puzzled. There was no title on the front, not even one of the glyphs that some wizards used to represent their names. It was a small book, almost the size of the diary she’d tried to keep at the orphanage before two of the older girls had stolen it and put it down the toilet. She turned it over and over in her hand, trying to see how to release the pages from the spell holding them together. Had Duke Gama stumbled upon one of the spells that writers used to keep their works secure? Or had someone else done the spell for him? Every kingdom was supposed to have a Court Wizard representing the Grand Sorcerer – and making sure that none of the local rulers harboured dreams of rebelling against the magical order. Surely Duke Gama could have convinced the Court Wizard to cast the spell for him.
She muttered an incantation under her breath and was surprised when the book refused to open. A second spell produced no other effect, nor did a third. That
was
a surprise; it suggested that the spell on the book was personalised, perhaps complex enough to be the work of a senior wizard. Elaine knew that some wizards used similar spells to keep their work from being read by their peers, but she’d never heard of a non-wizard being able to use such a spell. Surely...
The book seemed to flicker with magic. Elaine felt it, a sudden sense of something
uncurling
from within the book. She wanted to drop it as the magic field suddenly spiked, but her hand refused to let go of the pages. There was a brilliant flash of light, a sense that something was being pushed into her head, and then she crashed down into darkness.
Chapter Three
...There was fire...and ice...and someone was calling her name...and she wanted to call back, but her voice was tiny against the roaring that filled the air...and strange memories that weren’t hers were raging through her mind...and...and...and...
“Elaine!”
Elaine’s eyes snapped open. She was lying in bed, her head spinning as if someone had slapped her several times. Her mind felt thick and congested, her thoughts moving slowly through her brain. It took her what felt like hours to recognise the face bending over her and then it seemed to take hours more before she could reply.
“Dar...Daria?”
“You’re awake,” Daria said. Her friend leaned down and gave her a hug. “What happened to you?”
Elaine found herself struggling to recall. She’d been at the Library, she’d served Millicent and a dozen others, and then she’d opened Duke Gama’s box...and then nothing. But her mind felt as if she’d spent years cramming for a single exam, yet could no longer remember even what she’d been cramming for. She felt faint, even as she struggled to sit upright. Where was she? And what had happened to her?