The Burning Page

‘Which is high-chaos by its nature,’ Irene burst out in exasperation. ‘Weren’t you listening? Kai, you’re a dragon, that is the last place you can go.’

‘Miss Winters is quite correct.’ Li Ming had come up to flank her supportively. ‘Your highness, surely you must see how it would look if Miss Winters took you into a high-chaos world. You’d barely be able to maintain your true form there, let alone help her. Worse still, she’d be doing it purely in order to support her own faction. Your uncle would disapprove. Your father would condemn it.’

Kai opened his mouth, then shut it again. Vale and Singh were talking in the corner, their voices lowered, and even though she couldn’t make out what they were saying, it was fairly obvious that Singh was doing his best to talk Vale out of a proposition, and it wasn’t hard to guess what.

Sorry, Vale. This is one trip that you can’t secretly infiltrate in disguise.

‘We have to go,’ Irene said. She was trying not to think about the main reason she was hurrying: the longer she delayed, the more reasons she’d find why this was a bad idea. All the words she’d thrown at Bradamant earlier came back to echo at her now. Reckless. Foolish. Dangerous. Running off solo with a Fae whom she knew was untrustworthy, all the way into the private turf of the Library’s worst enemy, who already had a grudge against her . . . Possibly two grudges, depending on how Alberich felt about that business at the Winter Palace. It could hardly be worse.

No, that needed rephrasing. It could be worse. This was a chance, an opportunity, but only if Irene took it now. She reached out to take Kai’s hand and squeeze it. ‘I trust you. Warn Coppelia, warn the others. When I get to Alberich’s sphere I’ll either force a passage to the Library so that we can bring in reinforcements, or I’ll find some other way to mark it and bring people back.’ She was aware that it might be impossible to reach the Library from high-chaos worlds, but that was just one more of the things she was trying not to think about. Another was whether she’d be able to function there herself. She’d soon find out.

He returned the clasp. ‘Irene, do one thing for me.’

‘What?’

‘Tell me in the Language that you’ll come back.’

Oh, unkind. She glared at him, but he wouldn’t release her hand. ‘Is this really necessary?’

‘It’d make me feel better.’

‘When did you get so manipulative?’

‘No doubt from watching his teacher,’ Vale commented. ‘Winters, this is a foolhardy enterprise, but I appreciate that you don’t have a choice. Telling us that you intend to return seems to be the least you can do to reassure us.’

‘I fully intend to come back to you. There, are you satisfied?’ Her words in the Language were a promise to herself as much as to them. She would have liked to complain that she didn’t know why they were so annoyed, for she was the one who was going into danger. But honesty compelled her to recognize that if they’d been the ones going, then she would have done her utmost to follow them. Honesty was most unhelpful: it got in the way of a satisfying whine of complaint at their overprotectiveness and made her feel like the one at fault.

‘Not remotely satisfied.’ Kai pulled her into a hug, his grasp almost tight enough to hurt. ‘I know I can’t talk you out of this,’ he murmured in her ear. ‘But when you get back, we are going to discuss the future.’

Irene sighed, returning the embrace, trying to convince herself that she was only doing it from habit and not because she actually needed the comfort. ‘Just make sure there’s brandy,’ she murmured back.

Kai released her. But Li Ming was stepping forward, his face set in unusually stern lines. Ordinarily he was content – or at least seemed content – to be a figure in the background, merely offering Kai his advice. Maybe he had some vital suggestion to offer?

‘This is quite unthinkable, Miss Winters,’ he said. The room was abruptly colder, and the ether-lamps whined in their sockets like dying flies as they flared bright and translucent. ‘You cannot possibly go.’

That was not a helpful suggestion. ‘It seems the best option,’ Irene began.

Li Ming made a brief cutting gesture with one hand. It would have suited a judge’s pronouncement of a guilty verdict. ‘The Fae’s untrustworthy. Even if she swears she’s telling the truth, she’s not reliable. You’re risking yourself and all those who depend on you. My lord would not approve of your taking this step. I don’t approve of it.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Irene said. ‘I appreciate your opinion, but—’

‘This is no longer a time for courtesy.’ The familiar scale-patterns flowed across Li Ming’s skin like ice on the surface of a river. The windows rattled as the wind rose outside. He was beautiful, remote, untouchable and utterly certain of what he was doing. ‘I will not permit this folly to take place.’

‘That’s not your decision to make,’ Irene snapped.

‘Any rational being has a right and a duty to stop you committing suicide.’ The cold wind had a biting edge now, harsh with the taste of oncoming winter and frozen streams. Irene had never really wondered how powerful Li Ming might be. He’d always been acting the servant or the counsellor, staying in the shadows. That might have been a serious mistake on her part. ‘You are a junior servant of the Library. This duty should be left to others. My lord would forbid you to take this action. Your highness, help me restrain her.’