Irene tuned out the next item, rising to her feet. Kai handed his tray to one of the waiters and picked up their carpet-bag, following her as she headed over to the payment desk. She kept a weather eye on Melancourt, but he was slumped in his seat, not trying anything dramatic. Men and women nodded to her with respect as she walked past, and she returned the gesture politely.

‘Your payment, ma’am?’ the man at the desk asked neutrally. He had several large, well-muscled men behind him to help reluctant customers cover their purchases. But they wouldn’t be needed this time.

Irene kept her smile faint as the desk clerk examined her synthetic diamonds with a jeweller’s glass, before closing the transaction and handing over the book. She’d obtained the gems from a Librarian working in a much more technologically advanced alternate, and they paid the bills nicely. Diamond production there was comparatively cheap, and all her colleague had wanted in exchange was a complete set of first-edition Voltaires from her world.

They made it to the door before Melancourt caught up with them. ‘I can make a deal,’ he said, his voice low but desperate. ‘If you would put me in touch with your principal—’

‘I’m afraid that’s impossible,’ Irene said. ‘I’m sorry, but the matter is closed. You will have to excuse me.’ She remembered she had a deadline - and it was ten-thirty already.

Melancourt’s lips drew into a thin line under his mask. ‘Don’t hold me responsible for what may happen,’ he spat. ‘And you will have to excuse me as well. I should be getting on my way.’ He barged ahead of the two of them, calling to a waiter for his coat and hat.

It was quarter to eleven by the time they were clear of the venue and no longer wearing their masks. The night was comparatively clear, and the ether-lamps showed every imperfection of the Soho streets. A few women loitered on street corners, but most of them were in the pubs or operating from indoors, and none of them tried approaching Kai and Irene. Melancourt was already out of sight.

‘Do you think he’ll try something?’ Kai asked, keeping his voice low.

‘Probably. Let’s head for Oxford Street. We should be safe enough, once we’re on the main road.’

As they headed in that direction, Irene considered how her life had changed in the last few months. Previously she’d been a roaming Librarian on assignment, hopping from one alternate world to another in order to collect books for the interdimensional Library she served. Now she had a steady base here as Librarian-in-Residence, an apprentice she respected, and even friends. World-travelling wasn’t the best way to keep friendships, especially when she had to spend half her time in disguise. But now she even had people on this world, like Vale, who knew what she was and accepted it.

And, to be honest about it, she was enjoying her work. It was rewarding to fulfil requests from the Library, and to do so promptly and efficiently. Providing unique books for the Library from a particular world helped stabilize the world itself too, balancing it between order and chaos by strengthening its link to the Library. But it was also, for want of a better word, exciting. Last month they’d had to sneak into an automaton-filled labyrinth under Edinburgh to rescue a copy of Elzsbeth Bathory’s lost Regina Rosae narrative. Today they’d slipped in and out of the auction without any trouble. (One little attempted poisoning was a minor detail.) Irene wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but it promised to be interesting.

‘Ah,’ Kai said in a tone of mild satisfaction as they turned the corner past a pub and onto a dark stretch of road. ‘Thought so. We’re being followed.’

Irene turned her head and caught a glimpse of two men behind them, at the turn of the street. ‘Good catch. Is it just those two?’

‘At least one more. I think they’re cutting round to intercept us, if we go through Berwick Street.’ Kai frowned. ‘What shall we do?’

‘Go through Berwick Street, of course,’ Irene said definitely. ‘How else are we going to find out what’s going on?’

Kai glanced sidelong at her, the ether-lamps forcing his profile into a sharp marble carving. His eyes were narrowed and dark in contrast. ‘You’ll let me handle it?’

‘I’ll let you take point,’ Irene said. ‘You distract them, I’ll tidy up.’

He gave a nod, accepting the order. She wasn’t going to demand to fight side by side with him in a street fight. He was a dragon, after all, and even in human form he could jump in the air and kick people in the head. And this London’s ankle-length skirts weren’t designed with jumping and kicking in mind.

Kai being a dragon was complicated. It made him a useful apprentice, with capabilities beyond the human norm, but it also meant that he came with his own share of attitudes and prejudices. He outright loathed the Fae as forces of chaos, which was awkward, given that they had a major presence on this world. And he carried himself with the hauteur of a dragon of royal blood, though he refused to go into details about his parentage. Irene was experienced enough to know that this could - no, probably would - mean trouble. But right here and now, he was excellent backup.

At this time of night Berwick Street’s market and fabric shops were closed and the street was dark apart from the ether-lamps. Now would be a good time for their pursuers to make their move.

As if on cue, the two men began closing in, as a third man stepped round the corner ahead of them. He was scruffily dressed, his ragged-cuffed coat hanging open to reveal a loosely knotted cravat at his throat, over a partially unbuttoned shirt. His cap was pulled down low over his face, shadowing his eyes. ‘Hold it right there,’ he snarled.