‘Ray,’ he said, seeing straight through her mask and blonde wig. His eyes met hers in recognition.

‘My name is Irene,’ she corrected him. It was a small gesture of defiance, but one which gave her courage – and, more importantly, a moment to think.

‘Ray is what your parents named you.’ He smiled, his expression surprisingly rueful, surprisingly friendly. ‘Though I have to approve of any step towards self-development. We talked about that once before, if you remember?’

‘About evolution, and how both Fae and dragons were dead ends?’ Irene remembered that far too well. They had been dancing in a Russian palace. But Kai had been there to save her that time. ‘Yes, I remember. But why are you here now?’

‘For you.’

Her guts cramped with panic. What did one say, when personal nightmares came strolling out of the darkness to tell you how pleased they were to see you? ‘Surely you have more important things to do.’

He took a step towards her. She would have moved back, but the circle around her feet held her fast. ‘On the contrary. You – and your friends – are extremely important.’

Irene ran through various conversational gambits in her head, and finally said, ‘What’s going on?’

Alberich blinked in surprise – another human gesture, but this time it seemed just a little affected, like an actor’s projection for his audience. ‘So blunt? We could play a game of riddles for answers instead. Or dance around the subject, gathering information without giving any away. Wouldn’t that be more . . . fun? Or maybe—’

But she’d been gathering her nerve while he spoke. ‘Floor, break under Alberich!’ she ordered with desperate speed, interrupting him mid-speech.

The circle around her flared, brightening as her voice was suddenly silenced. It was as if she stood inside a cone of perfect quiet. The Language had failed her, and the words she mouthed had no power.

‘Yes, that would have been my next step too,’ Alberich said. He took another step towards her. ‘It’s astonishing how much we think and plan alike. Librarians together, brothers and sisters in the same service . . .’

She’d shut down the generators – that part of her mission had been successful. She couldn’t hear any noise of chaos downstairs as a result, but the floor and walls were thick enough to block that out. Hopefully Kai and Vale would get Catherine to safety, and then come looking for her. But for the moment, she was on her own. ‘What do you want with me?’ she demanded.

Alberich paused as a flicker of darkness ran through his body, like a glitch in a projection. ‘Ah. I have less time than I’d thought. That gets your hopes up, doesn’t it, Ray? You’re thinking that if you keep me talking a bit longer, you may be able to save yourself.’ His grin was pure malice. ‘My scripts were set to react to your use of the Language. But you haven’t worked out what that means.’

The day’s uncertainty crystallized into raw panic. Irene had to work to keep her voice from shaking. ‘You expected me to come here?’

Alberich nodded and made a go on gesture with a hand that seemed to be fraying at the edges, fuzzy with something resembling static.

‘We came here because Doctor Brabasmus would be here tonight. So . . . did you have someone leak that information?’ Singh had said that report was unreliable – and he’d been right. ‘You expected me to use the Language.’ She gestured at the shimmering circle around her feet. ‘You set this up.’

Alberich nodded. ‘The moment you used the Language . . .’ He snapped his fingers. Shadows crackled between them. ‘Activation. And now we really can’t keep your friends waiting any longer, can we?’

Irene’s eyes flicked to the door, but Alberich shook his head. ‘No, it’s simpler than that. Their names are also woven into the circuit I’ve created. They’re coming with you. You’re all useful to me, and I know just how dangerous it is to leave any of you on the loose while the others are prisoners.’

‘Language, release me!’ Irene ordered, putting the whole of her will into the words.

Pain splintered in her temples and she tasted her own blood in her mouth. For a moment the words seemed to hang in the air like an echo – struggling with the force that surrounded her, like desperate fingers scrabbling at a cliff’s edge. The circle around her hummed as her will battled Alberich’s scripted trap, Language against Language, Librarian against Librarian.

For a moment she thought she might succeed.

Then Alberich spoke in the Language, and his words had the strength of centuries behind them: ‘My pattern, complete.’

The circle of light around her feet started to turn, rotating like a whirlpool. A rising hum of power sang in the air, drowning out the echoes of Alberich’s voice. The sound rose until it was louder than the generators had been before, until Irene had to press her hands against her ears to shut it out.

Flickers of fire ran through the darkness of Alberich’s robe. He spread his arms wide, exultantly, and the flames leapt up to the ceiling. They veiled him in a swelling conflagration that flared too brightly for Irene’s eyes to bear.

But Irene would not surrender. She could not let herself break if there was even the smallest chance of escape. She tugged against the circle, trying to pull free, and called out again and again in the Language. Yet she couldn’t hear her own voice above the surrounding noise. Panic swelled in her, and her mind ran in circles – a trapped rat with no way out. If only she could find the right words to use, there had to be something . . . if Alberich could write it then she could rewrite it, she just needed time.

But then the floor dropped out beneath her, and she fell into fire and darkness.

CHAPTER TWENTY

It was a sad commentary on Irene’s life that, on waking up in chains, her first thought was Oh no, not again.

At least she wasn’t dangling from the ceiling. That was always hell on her shoulders.

She was lying on her back, hands outstretched to either side; metal cuffs circled her wrists. She was chained to a cold stone floor. The stillness and dead silence suggested she was in a large open space with nobody else nearby. She could taste the chaos in the air, and the Library brand on her back itched with it. Definitely a high-chaos alternate world, even nearer to the chaos end of the universe than Vale’s world. Where had Alberich taken her?

At least she was still alive, Irene reminded herself firmly. Where there was life, there was hope. She’d escaped from difficult situations before. But, as she looked around, she decided this had to rate pretty highly on the I’m really doomed this time scale.

She was in a church . . . no, a cathedral, and the Sagrada Familia cathedral at that. She recognized it now. Not just from the reports found on Lord Guantes’ laptop, but from images seen over the years. But this interior was far darker than versions of the place on other worlds. Black stone pillars rose like lithe young trees, twisting and branching out above her to support an intricately carved ceiling. Here patterns resembling open flowers bloomed across the stonework, petals spreading out to touch one other. Electrical cables wound around the pillars like vines, silver against their blackness. Some even passed through the pillars, as though the ancient structure had been designed to support them. Where she’d expected to find stained-glass windows were computer screens. They blazed high above, shining with colours that had nothing at all to do with natural daylight. The whole place was a forest of dark stone, its ornamental flowers outlined in bright but poisonous hues. This unnatural light illuminated the aisles and nave with a pale twilight glow. Irene herself lay roughly where the altar should be, if this were really a version of the Sagrada Familia. She didn’t like the symbolism.