‘Kai,’ she said very quietly, ‘what am I going to do?’

‘Stop. Think. We’ll find a way.’ He shrugged. His arms were bare: he’d torn off his shirtsleeves to make bandages. ‘You’ve already dealt with the Guantes and checkmated Alberich. This revelation is just the next thing, one more problem to solve.’ He looked up at her and smiled. And in spite of the smoke and blood that matted his hair, the grazes on his alabaster skin and the tiredness in his blue eyes – or perhaps because of them – he was utterly beautiful. ‘I know you, Irene. So do your friends. And if anyone tries to make assumptions, on the basis of blood or family, they will be badly mistaken.’

But what – the thought crossed her mind belatedly – what about her mother?

‘Is your brother all right?’ she asked, trying to focus on something manageable.

Kai shrugged. ‘He’s unhappy. He really wanted that artificial intelligence research. He says he’s going to apply to my father to have me removed from my post – for incompetence.’

Irene sat up straight. ‘Incompetence? He was the one who jumped in uninvited and almost . . .’ She restrained herself from stronger language. ‘. . . made a big mess of things. You did an excellent job.’

‘So did you.’ He finished tying the bandages. ‘And you brought Catherine into the Library. An amazing job. No one else has ever managed such a thing—’

‘Which means an even harder assignment next time,’ Irene said with a sigh. But this was familiar territory.

Catherine chose that moment to poke her head around the door. ‘Are you up for answering questions, Irene?’

‘Possibly,’ Irene said. ‘Probably. What questions?’

‘Mostly, what’s next?’

‘Right this minute? We wait for help to arrive. We have injured. Including me. On a wider scale – I’d say it’s up to you.’ Irene met the Fae’s eyes. ‘What do you actually want, Catherine? Are you still prepared to give up everything to be a librarian – or do you want to be a Librarian?’

Catherine affected a look of deep consideration, but she’d clearly already come to a decision. ‘I may have been a bit hasty before,’ she said with the air of someone making a major concession. ‘I can actually see a number of good points in being a Librarian spy, like you. As long as missions don’t all end up like this. Of course, I need more lessons. More experience. Perhaps some more book-collecting expeditions . . .’

‘We can definitely work on that.’ Irene let Kai help her to her feet, leaning on him, and remembered why she’d become a Librarian in the first place. Whether or not Alberich was her father, her love of books, her pure enthusiasm for the job, had been all her own. It was healing to see it reflected in her apprentice’s face. ‘Yes,’ she said, squeezing Kai’s hand and feeling the pressure returned, ‘we’ll help you become a Librarian.’ She looked around at the Library, her home. ‘Whatever else may come – that journey starts here.’

EPILOGUE

The heavy books were crowded together on their stone shelves. A fanciful bibliophile might imagine them fossilized into strata, forming veins of precious literature running through the rock. There were no artificial lights down here, but glowing translucent forms flickered along the book-lined corridors and illuminated the place, allowing a hypothetical observer to at least read the titles of the volumes they passed. There had been no attempt at organization or classification; this was a black hole of tightly packed fiction.

Subterranean passages wound through the stacks. It was possible to lose oneself among books in multiple directions, up and down and in between, but the walkways finally led to an open space. This seemed incongruous when compared with its cramped surroundings – it was somehow larger than it should have been, with no discernible ceiling. The stonework that supported its sides was ancient, yet well preserved. The river that ran through its centre, before plunging into the hidden depths below, supplied a constant background murmur of sound. Two figures lounged at a table by the river’s side, and a third paced nearby.

‘Well,’ said one seated figure. Shadows trailed behind him in a long serpentine sweep, and yet more shadows crowned his brow with horns. ‘Finally.’

‘It took them long enough.’ The second seated figure was swathed in darkness, its face changing from one moment to the next, as though constantly shifting between a selection of masks. ‘But certain criteria had to be fulfilled for us to move forward. First, we needed peace and stability. Next, Fae needed to be able to get in here. If we’d given them a nudge, prompted someone earlier—’

‘We’ve discussed this matter before.’ A brief thunder echoed in the wake of the first speaker’s voice, rumbling in the impossible sky above. ‘We agreed no interference. They can’t be allowed to suspect anything until we’re ready to move. The traitor showed just how dangerous that could be to us.’

The masked figure made a dismissive gesture; thousands of actors would have died with envy at the sheer perfection of the movement. ‘That was why we installed the failsafe in their brands, remember. Though I still think that “instant death” was overdoing it. Triggering deafness would have been just as effective.’

‘But not as reliable,’ the first said.

The third figure stopped pacing to approach the seated pair. Her robe was plain, her manner deferential, but she spoke with the ease of centuries of acquaintance. Her use of honorifics seemed more of a habit than a genuine courtesy. ‘My lords, we’ve been through this so many times before. Does this mean we’re ready to set things in motion at last?’

‘We’re ready to deploy our agents, on both sides,’ the second figure said. ‘But what about the traitor? When he finds out that a Fae’s accessed the Library, he’ll know we’re ready for our endgame. He’s been a danger throughout, but if he perceives we’re about to move . . .’

‘We could kill two birds with one stone?’ the third suggested. ‘The other Librarian’s uncomfortably well informed. I still don’t know why she was directed to the Egyptian document, as it told her far too much. If we have her dispose of the traitor, neither might survive the encounter. But even if she makes it and he doesn’t, we still come out ahead.’

‘There’s the risk of the traitor converting her,’ the second said. ‘If he can tell her his story . . .’

The first snorted. ‘No risk now. He’s put himself beyond forgiveness. Very well, I concur. And if we send her after him, she won’t be investigating what we’re doing with the treaty. She’s the Library’s official representative, so there’s a good chance she’d be drawn into that otherwise. We need the treaty and the stability it brings – but we don’t need her.’

The second slowly nodded. ‘Agreed, then. But tell me – why was the Egyptian document marked for Library acquisition in the first place? We agreed centuries ago that nothing relating to our history should be brought here.’

The first turned his head to look at the third figure. ‘You’re the one with the closest relationship to the living mortals who work here. Why was it permitted?’