‘Nicely put,’ he agreed. ‘Very well. I’m prepared to discuss the matter, in exchange for allowing you to live.’
Irene found it hard not to roll her eyes at that offer. Allowing you to live still left open so many unpleasant possibilities. ‘In the interests of bargaining in good faith,’ she said, ‘I’d like you to let the hostages go.’
He considered a moment, then smiled. It wasn’t reassuring. ‘Of course. Joseph, Peter, release Miss Winters. And see these good people to the door and let them out. I’m sure they’ll be happy to head home to relax.’
The two men who’d been holding Irene let her go. Irene rubbed her arms, frowning slightly. She hadn’t expected Lord Guantes to give in so easily.
Lord Guantes waited until the library employees were safely out of the door, still bemused and smiling, before he turned back to Irene. ‘It just struck me, my dear, that I have a whole building full of hostages here. If you don’t cooperate, I’ll start burning some of these books. Or should I cut them to pieces? Do tell me which would be more spiritually painful to you.’
Irene didn’t need to feign her expression of chagrin at his words. ‘You’ve made your point, Lord Guantes. I’ll cooperate.’ Still, she’d achieved a partial victory: the innocents were out of range. Now she just had to, somehow, deal with him and all his henchmen.
Something about that thought nagged at her. She glanced around as innocently as she could, getting a good look at her surroundings and the enemy forces. Yes, all the minions were of the same type: anonymous, muscular and male. Which meant that she and Catherine were now the only women in this library.
‘If I may check one point before we begin,’ she said. ‘Am I correct in thinking that you’re the mysterious Professor, London’s new emperor of crime, puller of a thousand strings and master of its underworld?’
As she’d expected, his vanity made him preen under her praise. ‘I’d ask how you found out, but I suspect I know. Your detective friend.’
‘And you’re behind the recent assassination attempts on us?’
‘Define us.’
‘Myself. Prince Kai. Vale. Sterrington.’
He smirked again, and her hand twitched at the urge to slap that expression off his face. ‘Miss Winters, I assure you that I haven’t attempted to assassinate you. Now let’s get down to business. You will provide information – even if you don’t reveal everything now – if you want to see these books left in one piece. I will judge if it is of sufficient quality to stay my hand.’
So if he hadn’t attempted to assassinate her, ‘just’ the others, then what did he have in mind for her? That was useful information – if somewhat unsettling.
‘I don’t know how much you know about the Language,’ Irene began, trying to sound as didactic as possible. ‘You’re aware that it’s only usable by Librarians?’
‘To an extent,’ Lord Guantes said thoughtfully. ‘After all, it’s possible for you Librarians to write something down using the Language, and then give it to someone else to use.’
‘How do you know that?’
His smile was positively edged. ‘Now how do you think I tracked you?’
For a moment Irene froze, her blood turned to ice. That meant a Librarian had betrayed her. As she saw Lord Guantes’ smirk widen at her reaction – visible, however much she tried to conceal it – she fought down her fear. He could just be lying, trying to break her morale. He hadn’t sworn to tell the truth, after all.
But if it was true . . .
She swallowed and forced herself to continue. ‘Very well, then. This is why I’m here – and it concerns the Language. I’ve found a way to use it to modify an existing door to the Library, to allow Fae passage.’ She chose her words carefully, to imply there was a permanent door to the Library inside this very building.
‘And you did that today?’
Irene simply nodded. He seemed to be buying it.
‘Is this why you think you’re bargaining from a position of power? Are you going to threaten to bring Librarian reinforcements out through this door, to attack me?’ He looked quite serious, to her surprise – and relief.
Irene didn’t need to feign her snort of laughter. ‘Oh, come on, Lord Guantes. You must know Librarians by now. Can you really see us doing that? I’m not in any sort of position of strength. I’m surrounded by armed men and you’re in front of me.’ Yet so long as he believed in her lie, so long as he thought she had something he wanted, she might not have strength but she had control.
‘One point in your story puzzles me,’ he said slowly, and Irene’s throat tightened. She’d thought he’d accepted her story. ‘If you took Catherine into the Library, why did you bother to come back here? You knew that I was hunting you. Why put yourself at risk?’
Irene sought frantically for a good answer. Then it came to her. ‘It’s Kai,’ she said, feigning reluctance. ‘Prince Kai. He went to get help. If he returns and I’m not here to get him into the Library too . . .’
‘Ah, of course. You’re quite right about the danger he faces – he’s on my list. But it’s just you and me now. And just think of how good it will feel to tell me everything. I expect you are tired of all this running . . .’ He took a step towards her, meeting her eyes. She felt the swell of his power, like the shadow of a tidal wave massing above her.
Once before, he’d twisted her will and nearly broken it. But she was stronger now. She just had to keep this charade going a little longer, to find out which Librarian he’d subverted to track her, what was behind all this, and how much further its roots went . . .
A heavy book tumbled down from above, crashing into Lord Guantes. It struck him on the head, and he didn’t stand a chance; he collapsed to the floor, out like a light. It wasn’t just the weight, it was the impact as well – force equalling mass multiplied by acceleration, and all delivered without a whisper of warning.
Without his active guidance his men all reacted on instinct, turning towards this new threat. Irene saw them raising their guns towards the balcony and could only pray that Catherine – for who else could that have been? – had the sense to stay down.
Time for her own plan. ‘Books, hit the men!’ she shouted at the top of her voice in tones intended to carry through the building. She dropped to the floor, covering her head with her arms.
She might not be able to see, but she could hear the crashing and shouts as every book within range of her voice threw itself at a man. The crossfire on the ground floor was particularly heavy, and several volumes ricocheted painfully off her. It was only when the noise stopped that she lowered her arms and looked around.
Nobody was moving. Well, nobody except for her. Good. Irene headed for Lord Guantes, who lay sprawled motionless, and rolled him over onto his front. She used his elegant silk scarf to tie his hands behind his back. ‘Catherine, come on down!’ she called.
She heard the girl’s footsteps on the stairs as she went through Lord Guantes’ pockets. He had a bulging wallet, which she tucked into her coat for later investigation. More interestingly, he also carried a highly ornate pocket watch which made her fingers tingle when she touched it.