The Invisible Library (24 page)

‘I would appreciate that explanation, Miss Winters,’ Vale said as he refilled their teacups.

There had been hot baths and bandaging of injuries. Even Kai, untouched by the dirty water of the Thames, needed to clean himself after the exertions of the reception and its accompanying
alligator blood. As for Vale and Irene, they were soaked and filthy. The driver had been muttering audibly about getting his carriage cleaned, even after a very generous tip from Vale.

Irene would gladly have soaked for a few more hours, but she hadn’t felt it safe to leave Vale and Kai alone to talk for too long. Kai’s temper was still touchy, and Vale might ask a
question that was more dangerous than he realized. With a virtuous feeling of self-sacrifice, she’d dragged herself out of the hip-bath that she’d been allotted, wrapped herself up in
the heavy flannel dressing-gown Vale had lent her, turbaned her hair in a towel, and gone out to join the others in Vale’s study for tea and interrogation.

(She hadn’t asked why Vale had a spare woman’s dressing-gown in his wardrobe. Presumably specifically for female victims of crime who’d had a drenching. However, she
didn’t think it belonged to any close female associate of Vale’s. For one thing, it clearly hadn’t been used for months, and for another, any female trying to be flirtatious would
not choose a dressing-gown made of heavy flannel. For a third thing, Vale hadn’t offered her any
other
female clothing. And Vale hadn’t given her the sort of attention that even
the politest of men might give a soaked wet woman in dripping clothing. He’d bustled her off towards the hot tub as briskly as the matron from her old boarding school. Not that she wanted him
to give her that sort of attention, anyhow . . .)

Irene sipped her tea. Milk. Two lumps of sugar – suitable for people suffering from shock. ‘I should warn you that it is a little, ah, far-fetched,’ she said, trying to think
how best to explain it, or failing all else, lie about it.

Vale shrugged.
His
dressing-gown was red and black silk. His hair was still damp, combed into position and gleaming darkly in the light from the lamps. ‘I can hardly object until I
have heard it.’ Somewhere amidst the confusion he had found time to rearrange his books, after the disorder which Irene had inflicted on them, and neat piles of half-sorted literature sat
around his chair like patient children.

Kai sipped his own tea (no milk, no sugar, black and brooding) and watched the two of them. There was still that feeling of distance about him. He was wearing what was obviously Vale’s
second-best dressing-gown – the same colours and design, but more worn on the elbows, and with small burn holes marring the embroidery of the cuffs. His mouth was pinched in stubborn
lines.

‘Mr Strongrock and I are agents of a library,’ Irene started. ‘It is often known as the Invisible Library among those who have heard of it, as it’s hidden from
most.’

‘A reasonable enough name,’ Vale granted. ‘Where is it based? I would hardly think that it could be London.’
Since I have never heard of it
, he didn’t bother
to add.

‘Ah. Now this would be the implausible bit,’ Irene said. ‘Are you familiar with the concept of alternate worlds?’

Vale put down his cup, his regard assessing rather than outright disbelieving. ‘The theory has been mooted by some of the more metaphysically inclined philosophers and scientists. While I
do not necessarily
believe
in it, I must admit that it has a certain quality of inherent satisfaction. That is, to coin a phrase – it “makes sense” that possible fulcrum
points in history have created alternate worlds where things might have been different.’

Irene nodded. That way of looking at it would do for the moment. ‘I and Mr Strongrock are agents of a library which exists between the alternate worlds. Our task is to collect books for
the Library from all those worlds, to preserve them.’ She glanced meaningfully at his crowded bookshelves. ‘You must admit that to a keen reader – like yourself, or like me
– that also would “make sense”.’

‘Mm. Your argument would appeal to any bibliophile, Miss Winters. Should I take it that you are here in pursuit of a particular book?’

Irene nodded again. ‘The copy of Grimm that Lord Wyndham had before his death. But it seems that we aren’t the only people after it.’

Vale hesitated for a long moment. ‘Very well. I can postulate an interdimensional library hunting down rare books. I can accept the agents of that library having unusual powers.’ He
glanced at Kai. ‘Once one accepts the basic concept as possible, today’s events become – well, not entirely inexplicable. I have a great many questions, but one query in
particular intrigues me, and I trust that you can give me a solid answer to it. Why should you be looking for Grimm’s Fairy Tales? Why not the latest scientific advances?’

Irene smiled. This part had always warmed her somewhere deep inside. She leaned forward in turn, putting her cup down. ‘Mr Vale, while all the alternate worlds exist, and while they may
have different
metaphysical
laws, their
physical
laws are the same. Iron is iron, radium is radium, gunpowder is gunpowder, and if you drop an object, it will fall according to the
law of gravity. Scientific discoveries are the same across the alternates, and while they are no doubt important, we don’t value them as we do creative work. There may be a hundred brothers
Jakob and Wilhelm Grimm in a hundred different worlds, and each time they may have written a different set of fairy tales. That’s where our interest lies.’

Vale blinked. ‘But in that case, you could import the discoveries from other worlds! You could bring more than simply fiction – new technologies, new wonders of science. Have you no
concept of the good you could do for these – ’ he remembered himself – ‘hypothetical alternate worlds.’

‘Wouldn’t work,’ Kai said, staring at his tea.

‘What my colleague is trying to say,’ Irene said patiently, ‘is that, while it has been tried, firstly, the Library does not care to make itself public. Secondly, we cannot
introduce material for which there is no support infrastructure. This is what would happen if we tried to bring in discoveries that your current science didn’t support, and as a result the
discovery wouldn’t take root. It would probably be written off as a fake in short order. Also, please consider. What would be the dangers facing a person attempting to introduce entirely new
scientific knowledge to this world? To this country?’

Vale nodded slowly, his expression bitter. ‘I take your point,’ he said. He didn’t sound convinced, though.

‘And lastly,’ Irene said, a little embarrassed that she had to point it out, ‘all of us who are sealed to the Library are people who have chosen this way of life because we
loved books. None of us wanted to save worlds. I mean, not that we object to saving worlds . . .’ She shrugged, picking up her teacup again. ‘We want books. We love books. We live with
books. Someone who joined the Library just so that they could try to use the Library to benefit their own world . . . well, I suppose it would be ethical, but it isn’t the purpose of the
Library.’

‘Then what is the purpose of the Library?’ Vale asked.

‘To save books,’ Irene said firmly. The words were so automatic that she didn’t even need to think about them. She’d spent all her life with the idea. But they had never
sounded hollow to her before. She made herself focus on the familiar justification. ‘To save created works. In time, if their original alternate loses them, we can give them back copies, so
that they aren’t lost. And in the meantime, the Library exists and endures.’

‘So why did Alberich leave?’ Vale asked.

Irene swallowed. She hadn’t expected him to get to that point quite that fast. The little that she knew about Alberich was bad enough that she had been
happy
to write him off as a
myth. She didn’t really want to think of him as a real person with potentially terrifying motivations. Then she blinked. ‘Wait. How did you know that?’

Vale waved a hand dismissively. ‘Simple enough. The fellow is clearly a deserter from your own organization. Given what I know about it from you, his possible motives are either personal
advantage, or he has overarching principles that conflict with your own stated mission – which is to save books and not interfere in the workings of other worlds. But if it were a question of
personal advantage, why bother to hunt down and assassinate other Librarians? If he wanted money, fame or adventure, presumably other Librarians wouldn’t get in his way, as long as he
didn’t obstruct your searches for specific books. And what specific book would be that important to him, if he were pursuing personal gain? So perhaps he has a larger plan, one that requires
your non-interference. This would require him to be motivated by personal power or have some goal which he believes is more important than your Library’s search for books. Your own response
confirms this – why else would Library agents feel such a sense of dread towards a mere rogue agent?’

Irene reminded herself bitterly not to underestimate Vale again. She also ignored Kai, who was twiddling his fingers in his lap with an air of smug unconcern.
Fine. I suppose I should be glad
his mood’s improving.
‘Alberich left the Library a while ago,’ she said reluctantly. ‘I lack the clearance for full information on why.’
Or any information
beyond the bare minimum.

‘So – this Alberich is a continual threat. Has he crossed your path before?’

Irene shook her head. ‘No. Thank heavens. I had heard about him, of course, everyone hears about him—’

‘Even I’d heard about him,’ Kai put in, not very helpfully.

‘Kai is my junior,’ Irene said before Vale could ask for clarification of that statement. ‘And I know that the idea of an evil rogue Librarian must sound like some kind of
rumour. The sort of rumour which gets passed down through the years to frighten the novices. But there were stories about things happening to people one actually knew.’

‘Things?’ Vale asked.

‘People dying,’ Irene said bluntly. ‘With pieces of them being sent back.’

Kai started. ‘Was that why Dominic—’ he began, then stopped a fraction too late.

‘I don’t know,’ Irene said. She turned to Vale again. ‘What Kai is trying to say is that the Librarian who was supposed to be stationed locally, in this alternate world,
has apparently been killed and mutilated. We found out just before I triggered the trap I mentioned – a trap set using chaos forces. These – forces – are something that Alberich
uses.’ She couldn’t keep the distaste out of her voice.

Vale nodded. ‘So
chaos
. . . Is that what we would term “magic”?’

Irene tried to think how to explain it. She’d been planning to sidestep this part as much as possible, given Vale’s apparent dislike of magic. ‘Not exactly. According to our
cosmological model – ’ there, that was tactful and avoided saying,
this is how things really work
– ‘there are lawful and chaotic forces active in all worlds.
Sometimes they take on a physical form, appearing as entities – or personifications of law or disorder if you like. The lawful forces support reason and natural laws. The chaotic forces
support impossibility, and things that are blatantly irrational or disorderly. For example, dragons are lawful forces and the Fae support chaos. Fact versus fiction, if you like.’

Vale stiffened like a hound catching the scent. ‘So Lord Silver is a supporter of chaos itself?’

Irene nodded. ‘This alternate is strongly affected by chaos. Silver is certainly at least one of the lesser Fae, who are usually confined inside a single alternate. I don’t know if
he is one of the greater ones, but I sincerely hope not. Such creatures even have the power to move between worlds. But they have nothing to do with the Library.’ She wanted to make this
extremely clear. ‘We do not associate with them.’

‘Except when obtaining party invitations,’ Vale said drily.

‘I want that book,’ Irene said flatly. ‘So does he, it seems. And so does Alberich. I need to know who has it. If Silver or Alberich already had it, they wouldn’t be
looking for it. Once I have it, Mr Strongrock and I will be out of this alternate and won’t need to bother you again.’

Vale nodded. ‘Very well.’ Again there was the feeling of a confrontation being postponed until he had sufficient ammunition. Perhaps he wanted to bring her to justice as well. Or
perhaps he simply wanted to visit the Library. ‘So, tell me,’ he went on, ‘when was the Librarian stationed here murdered, where, and how?’

Irene glanced at Kai. ‘Well, it must have been somewhere between yesterday afternoon and this morning, because we first met him yesterday afternoon when we came through from the Library
proper. The entrance is in the British Library,’ she added, a little reluctantly.

‘Really,’ Vale said thoughtfully.

‘And when we came back this morning to speak with him . . .’ Irene trailed off, wishing she didn’t have to go into the next bit. ‘Ah, we have reason to assume that he was
dead by that point, possibly for several hours.’

‘Why?’ Vale demanded. ‘You found his body?’

‘We found his skin,’ Irene said. ‘In a jar of vinegar.’

Kai reached across and touched her wrist. She knew that it was inappropriate for her to show weakness, but she found it comforting.

Vale sat back in his chair. ‘I see,’ he said. ‘That must have been a great shock for you, Miss Winters.’

Irene remembered the pungent smell. Her stomach twisted. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It was. I am sorry, I’m afraid I find it difficult to be as detached as I should be.’
He’d been friendly, helpful, kind, just simply
nice
. . .

‘And you are quite sure that it was your contact?’ Vale prompted.

Irene nodded reluctantly. She hadn’t wanted to admit this bit if she could have avoided it. ‘All Librarians have a mark on their body,’ she said. ‘It looks like a tattoo
done in black ink. It cannot be removed.’

Vale was quite clearly considering asking whether he could see hers, but after a moment’s hesitation he nodded. Possibly the fact that she hadn’t offered to show it was hint enough.
‘And – if I may be frank – would the trap that had been set possibly have killed you?’