It would have been nice to sit up here above the clouds for a while longer, discussing metaphysics and dragons and other interesting topics, but there was simply too much on her schedule. ‘Let’s do it,’ Irene said.
They came down with a rush, slicing through the clouds and leaving streamers of mist behind them, with a speed that would have left Irene prostrate if it had been natural flight – well, as far as any flight on the back of a giant supernatural pseudo-reptile could be termed natural. She realized, with the technical part of her mind that wasn’t occupied with Oh my god please slow down, that Kai must be going as fast as possible to make it less likely that people would see him. Even in London, a dragon might attract attention and would be hard to mistake for an airship.
She could see the British Library below, and the glass pyramid on top of it. There was a small zeppelin tethered to the roof, floating there ready for action, and Kai had to adjust his flight path to avoid it. Two guards had seen him incoming and came running to intercept him, hands on truncheons.
Plus several points for duty, minus a lot more points for intelligence, for running towards an approaching dragon rather than running away from an approaching dragon. Irene waited till Kai had settled to the ground, then slid off his back. Ideally she would have walked towards the guards, but for some reason her legs didn’t want to work, and she leaned against Kai instead. ‘Good afternoon,’ she said, trying to sound charming.
The guards looked her up and down. Admittedly her National Guard costume, her harshly braided hair and the fact that she’d been gently smoked (or lightly kippered) didn’t make her look like the most trustworthy person. Time for the other option.
She pushed away from Kai, standing upright, and took a deep breath. Light flared behind her. That must be Kai turning back into a human. Good, it’d make the phrasing easier. ‘You perceive that I and the person behind me are normal but unimportant people, who have a right to be here on the roof, but are not worth your time and interest.’
The use of the Language to affect someone’s perceptions always took energy. She swayed as she felt the drain on her reserves. But it worked. The guards developed the vaguely puzzled look of men trying to remember exactly what had been so important. One of them waved her and Kai towards the door into the main building, with a mumbled, ‘Please enjoy your visit to the British Library.’
Of course the problem with using the Language that way was that it might wear off at any moment. It was only useful up to a point. Kai knew that just as well as Irene, so the moment they were inside the building, he led the way in a rapid trot down the book-lined storage corridor, and they didn’t stop till they were a few turnings away.
‘Are you going to open a direct portal to the Library from one of these rooms, or do you want to go down to the fixed entrance?’ he asked.
Irene ran her hands over her hair and grimaced at the amount of ash that came away. ‘I think we’ll use the fixed entrance,’ she said. ‘I know we’ll probably run into people on the way down there, but at least we know where we’ll come out in the Library, that way. Besides, after last time I stashed a couple of overcoats in the room next to it. It’ll do to cover up these outfits till we can get back to our lodgings.’
‘We could just change clothing in the Library,’ Kai said hopefully. He had much better taste in clothing than Irene did, and frequently exercised it.
‘Time,’ Irene said. ‘I’d rather get back here as soon as we can. We can collect any mail in the Library, but other than that . . .’ She shrugged. ‘We’ve been away from here for nearly a fortnight. As Librarian-in-Residence, it’s my duty to make sure nothing’s happened in our absence.’
‘Li Ming and Vale will both be glad to know we have returned, too,’ Kai agreed. ‘As you say, then.’
Irene led the way down the stairs and passageways at a fast walk, ignoring the looks of surprise, shock and sheer horror. Ladies in this world did not wear trousers. Zeppelin pilots and engineers did, but they weren’t generally ladies, and they wouldn’t go wandering around the British Library in them.
The room containing the permanent entrance to the Library was cordoned off with ropes and signs, declaring hopefully REPAIRS IN PROGRESS. Irene had to admit to a certain responsibility there, involving a small fire and a pack of werewolves, but on the positive side, it did make it easy for the two of them to march in while looking like workmen. Once inside the room and with the door safely shut, Irene looked around guiltily. This had once been a well-kept office, with glass cases full of interesting things, or at least antique ones, and cupboards and shelves properly full of books. Now – after the silverfish infestation, her duel with Alberich and the fire – it was a wreck. The few remaining display cases were empty and shabby, and the scorched floor and singed walls stood bare and unattractive.
It wasn’t her fault. Not directly, anyway. But she still felt guilty.
With a shake of her head, she stepped forward to put her hand against the far door. In practical terms, it was a simple storage cupboard. But in metaphysical terms, it was a permanent link to the Library, just like the one that had gone up in flames, and only needed a Librarian’s use of the Language to activate it. ‘Open to the Library,’ she said. A queasy worm of nervousness twisted in her stomach at the unwanted but inescapable image of the same thing happening here.
As if to quiet her worries, the door swung open at once, without the slightest hindrance. She took a deep breath, not wanting to sigh in relief too audibly, and ushered Kai through, before stepping through herself and shutting the door behind her.
The room in the Library was familiar to them by now – one of the conveniences of using a fixed transfer point from an alternate world to the Library, rather than forcing a passage through and possibly ending up anywhere at all in the Library. The walls were thick with books, so much so that the black-letter posters warning Moderate Chaos Level, enter with care had to hang in front of them, for lack of clear wall space. As did the promised overcoats. Someone had installed a computer on the central table.
‘That’s new,’ Kai said, pointing at it.
‘Convenient, though,’ Irene said. She sat down in front of it as she turned it on, and removed the book from her coat. ‘Could you just check down the corridor? There’s a delivery point there, and you can drop this in and get it off our hands, while I’m sending an urgent notification about the gate. Coppelia or one of the other elders might want to speak to us personally.’
Kai nodded, taking the book. ‘Of course. Irene—’
‘Yes?’
‘What do you think that reaction was?’
‘I don’t know,’ Irene had to admit. ‘It wasn’t some sort of linked-chaos trap. At least, I don’t see how it can have been. There wasn’t anything linked to it that I could see – did you see anything?’
Kai shook his head. He paced thoughtfully, in a way that Irene suspected he’d subconsciously copied from Vale. ‘I saw nothing, and I felt nothing out of the ordinary. If I had done, I would have warned you. It didn’t even feel like a normal intrusion of chaos into that world – forgive my vocabulary, please, it’s the best way I have to describe it. If I were to guess—’
‘Which is an appalling habit, and destructive to the logical faculty – yes, I know,’ Irene couldn’t stop herself from saying.
The corner of Kai’s mouth twitched. On him, the streaks of ash looked merely like artistic dishevelment, the sort of thing a model would wear in a particularly outré fashion show. And on him, the National Guard uniform could have started a fashion. ‘If I were to hypothesize, then, I’d say that the problem was somewhere at the Library end, or between the two points. But I don’t know if that’s actually possible.’
Irene nodded, logging on and starting to draft an email report to her mentor Coppelia. ‘We didn’t come in through that gate, because it would have meant dropping into the middle of hostile territory and an unknown situation. That was why Baudolino brought us in via Sicily, and we had to go overland from there.’ Baudolino was that world’s Librarian-in-Residence, a frail man in his seventies and definitely not up to dodging revolutionary informers and handling a police state. Irene personally thought it was past time for him to retire to the Library, but it would have been tactless to say so. ‘And Baudolino himself can’t have checked up on it recently, or he would have fallen into the same trap – if we can call it that. So . . . I don’t know. I’ll just have to report it and see how that goes. And about delivering the book itself . . .’
‘Going, going, gone,’ Kai said, and the door closed behind him.