The Burning Page

Irene tucked the pouch of gold sovereigns into an inner pocket. ‘It’s a plausible idea,’ she admitted. ‘If Kostchei and Coppelia, or whoever, agree to it, then I’ll help with it. But I’m not going to go running off solo with you now. Or even if we take Kai with us.’

Kai opened his mouth, then shut it again, apparently mollified by the idea that he’d be invited along too.

But Bradamant frowned. ‘If you think this is a good idea, then I can’t see why you’re not more enthusiastic.’

‘I don’t see that it’s being unenthusiastic to wait for our superiors’ opinion first,’ Irene said. ‘Actually, I don’t see why you want me to be enthusiastic anyhow. Even if this is a good idea, it’s not going to be remotely safe or easy.’

‘Always such a cynic,’ Bradamant said. Her smile was a little brittle. ‘Irene, tell me . . .’

‘Yes?’

‘Do you think our superiors actually have the right idea here?’

‘Right idea in what sense?’ Irene asked cautiously.

‘In the sense that they’re fighting a strictly defensive strategy,’ Bradamant said. She was picking her words just as carefully as Irene. Neither of us wants to be the first one to say something that could be reported and held against us. ‘I’m . . . concerned.’

‘We don’t necessarily know everything they’re planning,’ Irene said, but the words rang hollow in her own ears, and she remembered her earlier complaint to Coppelia.

‘And you know what the corollary to that is.’

‘That what they’re planning is too horrendously dangerous to tell us?’ Irene suggested.

‘No,’ Bradamant said. She lowered her voice. ‘That there are spies among us.’

‘That doesn’t work,’ Kai said firmly, cutting through the sudden silence. ‘Seriously, it doesn’t work. If there were Librarians who were working for Alberich and who could access the Library, then couldn’t they just open a door for him and invite him in? Even if he can’t enter because he’s chaos-contaminated, they could be actively sabotaging the Library, passing him information – whatever. There wouldn’t be any need for all these threats and ultimatums.’

If Irene had been the praying type, she would have said a prayer of thanks for that simple common-sense point. It short-circuited her paranoia. ‘Right,’ she agreed.

‘I’m sure there are other things that spies could be doing for him,’ Bradamant suggested. But that line of argument was clearly weak, even to her own ears, and she gave up with a shrug, looking disappointed.

‘And what do you actually want us to do, anyhow? You and me, that is. Are we supposed to stand around and yell, “Alberich, we’re here, come and get us?” until something happens?’

‘There’s no need to be like that about it,’ Bradamant snapped. ‘I was only putting forward a suggestion. And there’s something you aren’t taking into consideration.’

‘What?’

‘I saw you talking with Penemue.’

‘Then you probably saw her cutting me dead, once she realized I wasn’t going to be immediately useful to her,’ Irene answered. ‘Has she been talking to you, too?’

‘She’s tried.’ Bradamant looked smug. ‘Give me some credit here, Irene. I probably know more about what’s going on in the political landscape here than you do. I knew more about it even before I got stuck here for the last few months. And to give Penemue credit, she isn’t just doing this because she sees herself as the new representative of the working classes. She honestly thinks some reform is needed.’

‘Fair’s fair,’ Irene said. ‘I accept that she’s not wholly selfish. But I have the impression that you’ve got reservations about her too.’

‘Her current timing isn’t impressing me.’ Bradamant folded her arms. ‘I’m not going to argue the Library’s power structure with you, because we’d probably end up debating aristocracy versus oligarchy versus democracy. And, frankly, we both have more urgent things to do. But I think we can both agree that long-term change is at least worth discussing?’

‘Possibly,’ Irene agreed cautiously. ‘But the Penemue thing – I get that she’s looking to rock the boat, and going on the attack makes sense from her point of view, as a counter to official policy. Are you suggesting that if we don’t consider this option of us playing bait, then she’ll bring it up herself?’

‘It could happen,’ Bradamant said. ‘So I’m wondering if the two of us should be proactive about it and take that political option out of her hands.’

Irene considered, then shook her head. ‘No. Our superiors know about our previous encounter with Alberich. If we’ve had the idea of playing bait, they’ve certainly had the idea of using us as bait.’ It wasn’t a comforting thought, but it had the feeling of truth to it. ‘Us trying to run off and do this on our own isn’t going to help anyone’s political position. It might even make it worse for the authorities, if Penemue tries to push the idea that they’re losing control of their own juniors.’

Bradamant nodded slowly. ‘You might have a point there. All right, I’ll leave it for the moment.’

Little tendrils of paranoia wove themselves together at the back of Irene’s mind. Bradamant was perfectly capable of using Irene as bait, with or without Irene’s permission, if she could get support for it. Or, on a darker note, who was to say that the mysterious woman behind Irene’s kidnapping had been Lady Guantes? What if it had been someone much closer to the Library . . .