Lisa Shearin - Raine Benares 02 (13 page)

“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.

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.”

Mychael
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.

Mychael
just looked at me. “You asked them not to? They’re bodyguards, Raine, not armed
accessories.”

If my
hands had been free, they would have been planted indignantly on my hips.
“Carnades raked through my memories. I take that personally. If I take
something personally, I settle it the same way.”

Mychael
glanced at the retreating fire bloom in the sky that was Kalinpar. If the
dragon had been closer, Mychael probably would have called them back, and I’d
end up tossed over the saddle.

I
could only see his face in profile, but there was no missing the clenched jaw.
“What about the books?”

I
told him what they were and who they were both written by.

Mychael
stopped. So did our escort. “Are you certain?” he asked.

“Positive.
Though I didn’t have time to do more than flip through the one in modern
Goblin.” I lowered my voice. “Rudra Muralin used spellsinging to wake the
Saghred, use it, and then put it back to sleep. And he was probably not much
older than Piaras when he and the Saghred did their worst damage. It might explain
why the stone responded to Piaras and not to you and Ronan Cayle.”