When Irene woke, she found herself laid out like an effigy in a church, her hands folded on her chest. But the softness underneath her was a comfortable bed rather than a cold tombstone, and she could hear another person breathing.
For the moment she kept her eyes closed, so as not to alert anyone she was awake. The other person was asleep or meditating, judging from the slowness of their breaths. They were right next to her, too – probably on the same bed. There was a deeper undercurrent of sound in the room; the whisper of an air conditioner. Her shoes were gone and she was barefoot.
All right. So she’d been drugged on the plane. Probably Kai as well. And they were now somewhere else. Somewhere with good air conditioning.
She needed more information than she could get with her eyes shut. Simmering anger pushed out immediate fear. If they’d been abducted and were being held for ransom or sale, she was going to make some very dramatic and valid points about why that was a bad idea.
She sat up, sinking in the deep softness of the bed, and looked around. Kai was indeed fast asleep next to her. He was slumbering so peacefully that he could have been thousands of miles away in his father’s court, with nothing to worry about till scurrying servants brought the morning tea. It was a double bed – an interesting assumption by whoever had put them there – and the counterpane was silk. The bedroom beyond was luxurious, with abstract paintings hanging on the walls, expensive-looking rugs strewn across the floor, and French windows facing out onto the open sea beyond. Closed French windows. There were two subsidiary doors too. One stood half-open and clearly led into a bathroom, while the other could be . . . more interesting. And was probably locked. A big television screen covered a solid six feet of wall, but for the moment it wasn’t on, and there weren’t any obvious controls, remote or otherwise.
The crook of Irene’s right elbow was aching just enough to make itself felt. She rolled up her jacket sleeve and, as she’d suspected, there was the faint red mark of a hypodermic needle. That made sense. Gas her and Kai while they were belted in their seats, then deliver a more specific sedative once they were unconscious.
She reached across and shook Kai by the shoulder. ‘Kai, time to wake up.’
No reaction.
She shook harder. ‘Kai, wake up. We’ve been kidnapped.’
He groaned something, eyelids flickering open for a second before he relaxed back into his doze.
‘Kai! There’s been a palace revolution and the peasants are attacking!’
Kai gave a deep shuddering sigh and finally opened his eyes properly. ‘Execute them all in the public square,’ he mumbled, clearly still half-asleep.
‘Such a pity,’ a male voice said. ‘I must apologize. We have very little information about the proper dosage for dragons.’
Irene spun towards the source of the voice, her heart slowing as she realized it was coming from the television, which had silently turned itself on. Beside her, Kai shook his head as he tried to throw off the last of his sleep, his eyes clearing.
The man on the screen was seated in front of a glass pane which either fronted some huge indoor aquarium or was somehow set into the sea itself. A shoal of red and silver fish passed behind him, swooping past like a flight of birds – but they didn’t distract the eye from the man in the chair. He was heavy-set, with drooping jowls, but his small keen eyes watched her intently. His suit was white linen, and he wore a Panama hat tilted sideways on his bald head. A whiskey tumbler and decanter rested on a small table next to him. Irene suspected that he might be powerful enough to present himself in multiple different shapes, as some Fae could, but they would all display the same keynotes of personal overindulgence and wealth. She might never know his real face – just the image that popular culture associated with manipulators and schemers. ‘Mr Nemo, I presume,’ she said neutrally.
‘And I know your identities, of course. I trust you will forgive this communication by videolink, your highness. I do not wish to meet you in person.’
‘Oh, I have nothing against you,’ Kai said coldly, ‘except for the way you have drugged and kidnapped us.’
‘Yes. I should explain.’ Mr Nemo fished out a red silk handkerchief and mopped his forehead. ‘My situation at the moment is a little awkward. Please believe me when I say that I have absolutely no desire to gain you as an enemy – either of you, or the organizations which you represent. In fact, I hope you will bear in mind how quickly I arranged your visit, as a token of my goodwill.’
Irene wished she had some way of knowing whether this speech was sincere, or the sort of fast talk which went with unmissable bargains and items for sale off the back of a lorry, no questions asked. ‘Why don’t you want to meet Kai in person?’ she enquired instead.
The ice cubes in Mr Nemo’s glass clinked as he picked it up. ‘Miss Winters, I don’t like people to be able to find me. I’m sure you know just as well as I do that dragons can locate people whom they’ve met before. I’d rather not give him that ability. Is that acceptable?’
Irene glanced at Kai. ‘Is it?’ she asked. She had to get the book off Mr Nemo. But if Kai wasn’t prepared to tolerate these conditions, then she’d have to do it without his help.
Kai paused. For a moment Irene thought that he was going to say no, but then he shrugged. ‘While I prefer to meet people face to face, your caution is understandable. For the moment I accept your conditions. But I am still waiting for an explanation for our situation.’
He had donned his political, courtly persona, and Irene felt a flash of pride that he was able to behave so politely to a Fae. Of course, he was probably daydreaming about dropping Mr Nemo into the sea from a height of several thousand feet, but that was fair enough. She was having similar thoughts herself.
‘Perhaps we could discuss the reasons for your visit first?’ Mr Nemo suggested. ‘There might even be a minor discount arranged, for the inconvenience you’ve been caused.’
Kai gestured to Irene. ‘Miss Winters here is the negotiator. I am simply her escort.’
Irene donned her own best poker face. ‘The Library is interested in obtaining a particular book and I’ve been sent to open negotiations.’ She knew she mustn’t make her request look too urgent – even if it was. If Mr Nemo realized just how desperate the situation was, and how far she’d go to get her hands on that book, then he’d charge an unthinkably high price. And she’d have to pay it. There were some people, some places, which she would not lose to chaos.
Mr Nemo’s eyes glinted, the only sign of animation on his heavy-fleshed face. ‘I’m always delighted to oblige the Library. What are you seeking?’
‘The Tale of the Shipwrecked Sailor, an Egyptian text, Middle Kingdom period,’ Irene said. ‘From the world that we classify as Gamma-017. It’s in your catalogue.’
‘Excuse me just a moment.’ Mr Nemo turned to his left and an unobtrusive young man stepped forward, offering him a brochure similar to the one which Coppelia had shown Irene.
Mr Nemo flicked through the pages, frowning slightly, then his mouth widened into a smile. It wasn’t an encouraging smile – or rather, it wasn’t encouraging if one hoped to negotiate a good deal. It was the sort of expression which went with the poetic tag, And welcomes little fishes in, With gently smiling jaws. ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘That one. May I congratulate you on your excellent taste?’
‘You’re far too kind,’ Irene said guardedly. So far this hadn’t gone beyond the normal boundaries of bargaining. In fact, it was refreshingly familiar. She warned herself to be careful. ‘Have you read it yourself?’
‘I’m afraid not. I really don’t have time for that sort of thing. I find it far more interesting to negotiate prices for them.’
Irene felt herself judging him for his slight to her beloved books. But she reminded herself that he was Fae, and that his archetype as a fixer would be shaping his personal tastes and hobbies – along with the rest of his life. Why would he care about a single story, even if it was unique? ‘While I don’t wish to seem rude, the whole kidnapping and drugging business has cut into my schedule. If we could discuss the price?’
‘I’m sure that a well-known and well-respected Librarian like yourself has a great many resources,’ Mr Nemo suggested. ‘I’d be glad to sign a contract for some future services or assistance on your part, to be specified at a later date . . .’
‘While that does sound very tempting,’ Irene lied, ‘I’ve been given specific instructions to only engage in quid pro quo bargains – an object for an object, or an object for a specifically defined service. In fact, I’ve been told that all previous bargains by the Library were made strictly on that basis.’
Mr Nemo chuckled. ‘Ah well, you can’t blame a man for trying.’
‘I wouldn’t expect any less from a businessman like yourself,’ Irene flattered.
‘I hope you’ll understand that I can’t give you an immediate answer,’ Mr Nemo continued. ‘I need to consider what the Library could give me.’
‘Of course,’ Irene said. She suppressed her disappointment. This was never going to be resolved in two minutes of conversation, she reminded herself. But she was so close . . .
‘I’m certainly not going to ask you to stay shut up in that suite while I’m reviewing my collection for possible gaps. It could take a few hours,’ Mr Nemo said affably. ‘Do take a stroll! Look at my aquariums!’ He gestured at the wall of glass behind him, where an octopus waved distant tentacles, as if in wiggly semaphore warning. ‘Have a snack. My servants will be glad to bring you any food or drink you’d like. Take a swim, even! I have some excellent indoor pools. I understand that you had to leave your luggage behind at the airport, so please feel free to use the wardrobes that I’ve supplied. I guarantee absolutely no obligation on your part. Call it some small compensation for the inconvenience that you suffered earlier.’
‘Yes, about that – you did say that you were going to explain.’
‘I’m hosting a small dinner party tonight,’ Mr Nemo said. ‘A very exclusive one. Unfortunately word’s got out, and a great many people want to invite themselves . . . You must understand, I’m sure. We have similar problems in that respect. There are many who’d try to access the Library, if they thought they had the slightest chance of succeeding.’ His gaze moved to Kai, though he had the tact not to say, Even dragons. ‘My usual arrangements for guests have been somewhat compromised, so I’m having to take more precautions than usual.’
‘I see.’ Irene was sure that there was more to it than that, but Mr Nemo seemed in no mood to share. ‘Oh, there is one more thing . . .’
‘Yes?’
‘I hope this suite you’ve arranged isn’t being monitored.’ She waved vaguely at the walls and the microphones almost certainly hidden behind them. ‘I wouldn’t want to destroy your property while insisting on our right to privacy.’
Mr Nemo pursed his lips. ‘But imagine my feelings if you had a heart attack and were unable to call for help. Any supervision is purely for the benefit of my guests. If you really want a private conversation, there are plenty of places on my island where you can have one.’
Irene suppressed an image of dolphins with microphones, swimming closer to aquarium windows to pick up conversations. ‘I’m afraid this is non-negotiable,’ she said. ‘The alternative is that I use my abilities to destroy your monitoring systems – wherever I go here.’
‘Oh, very well.’ He sighed. ‘I give you my word that the suite you are currently occupying will not be monitored. I reserve the right to openly communicate with you while you’re in there – as we’re doing now.’
Irene knew that Fae promises were binding, but that he’d stick to the letter of the promise rather than the spirit. Which meant that everywhere else in this island was probably monitored. But it was better than nothing. ‘I appreciate your generosity,’ she said.
‘Excellent. And I’ll hope to have an answer for you soon. Possibly even before supper.’
‘Surely not that long . . .’ Irene started. Then she realized, with a cold uncertainty, that she wasn’t sure what time of day it was, or how long she and Kai had been asleep. All she knew was that the sun was shining outside. She glanced at the watch on her wrist; it was half past three in the afternoon. They’d lost most of a day.
‘Oh, I dine early,’ Mr Nemo said. ‘Any further questions? Are you looking for something from me, Prince Kai?’
‘I am not,’ Kai said, in the most austerely icy tone Irene had ever heard him use.
‘Of course, of course. Very proper. And you, Miss Winters?’
‘I’m sure I’ll think of half a dozen requests once we’ve finished this conversation,’ Irene admitted, ‘but I have nothing right now.’
‘Very good. There’s a phone by the bed if you need anything brought to your rooms. I’ll see you later.’
He raised his glass in a salute, and the screen dissolved into darkness.
‘Well.’ Irene took a deep breath. ‘This is probably the only place in the entire island where we can talk freely. Do you have any idea where we are?’
‘Give me a moment.’ A flickering pattern of scales washed across Kai’s skin, like fractal images, then dissolved again. For a moment Irene thought she could smell the sea inside the room, even with the air conditioning on and the windows closed. ‘We are still within the same waters that we were yesterday. The same chain of islands, I think, the same ocean that washes them. Other than that . . . no. Sorry.’
Irene shrugged. ‘It was worth a try. Don’t worry. I don’t think it makes much difference that we don’t know where we are.’
Kai’s eyebrows rose. ‘That’s a reason not to worry?’
‘I’m not saying that our situation is exactly good.’ Irene swung her legs round and stood up, testing her balance. ‘After all, we’re in the territory of a powerful Fae, we don’t know exactly where we are, we’ve lost our luggage, anything that we say outside this room is probably going to be overheard – and we’re on a deadline.’
Kai lay back and folded his arms behind his head. ‘I do enjoy it when you get optimistically fatalistic,’ he said. ‘So what do you see as the good points?’
‘Well, this place isn’t too high-chaos, or I’d be sensing it more and you’d be complaining.’ She waited for a nod from Kai before she continued. ‘And let’s be reasonable in our threat assessment: while this is a gilded cage, we can escape from it. From that balcony out there, or maybe this island’s beaches: I imagine you could take dragon form and leave that way.’
‘I’d need to be sufficiently far away from the centre of this island,’ Kai said thoughtfully. ‘Here in the middle of it, I’m not sure I could assume my proper form. It may not be very high-chaos . . . but it is high-chaos.’
‘But Mr Nemo doesn’t necessarily know that,’ Irene pointed out.
Weighing up the situation helped to calm her nerves. Her stomach wanted to tie itself into knots with urgency – she felt she should be getting hold of the book now, or the world where she’d been to school might be lost past saving – even if common sense told her that she had at least a week. Mr Nemo had never been going to hand the book over on the spot. However, she still didn’t like being at anyone’s mercy, least of all someone who might trade in people and promises just as often as he traded in items.
‘He’s interested in what we can offer, too – which might keep us safe,’ she added. ‘And he knows we’re under the protection of the Library.’
‘Well, he knows you are,’ Kai interjected. ‘I just tagged along.’
‘But you’re a political figure now,’ Irene said, trying to reclaim the point she’d been making. ‘You’re formally accompanying me. And . . .’
‘Yes?’
‘What do you want to bet that dragons have dealt with him in the past?’
‘Considering the protocols he’s put in place for not meeting me in person, I’d say it’s almost certain.’ Kai’s tone was resigned rather than offended.
Irene nodded. ‘All good points. As someone once said, “After being struck on the head with an axe, it is a positive pleasure to be beaten about the body with a wooden club.”’
‘That doesn’t sound like Confucius.’
‘No, I think it’s actually Kai Lung. Come on. Let’s get cleaned up and go for a stroll.’
The corridors outside were empty. There were no people. There was no dust. There were tactfully unobtrusive monitoring cameras, and occasional television screens set into the wall. But apart from that they were alone in a maze that combined the motifs of expensive hotel and secret villain base. The place didn’t feel deserted or barren, but Irene felt like an ant walking through it, a prisoner in someone’s vivarium.
There were stairs up. There were stairs down. There were glass doorways – closed and impenetrable – looking out onto the beaches outside. There were a lot of aquariums. After an hour of wandering round and failing to get her bearings, Irene found the fishes a welcome distraction, even if they weren’t a useful landmark.
As they came to the latest set of locked French windows, giving them another beach view, she turned to Kai. ‘Why do you think we aren’t being allowed to go outside? To make sure you can’t identify the location?’
‘Without a doubt,’ Kai agreed. He looked out at the sea beyond, his eyes yearning. ‘There’s nothing like the living water. That time in Venice, the water was polluted by chaos. And in Vale’s world, it’s polluted by . . . well, pollutants. But here I’m sure it would be better. Mr Nemo couldn’t taint the entire ocean. It would wake me from a thousand years of sleep to have the water touch my skin.’
‘I wish I could appreciate it the way you do.’ There were no planes visible in the sky, no boats on the water: as far as Irene could tell, they could be anywhere in the entire Caribbean, in any world. For dragons, she knew, it was different. Especially to one whose element was water, and who could command it to obey his will. ‘But I’m glad that there might be something you could enjoy. I feel a bit guilty about having brought you here.’
He gave her a sidelong glance. ‘I thought that we’d agreed that we were equals now. You didn’t order me to come.’
‘No,’ Irene admitted, ‘but you’re only here because I am.’ That wouldn’t count as ‘intelligence’, to anyone who knew who they were, yet they both automatically glanced around for hidden cameras.
‘Let’s talk about something non-sensitive,’ Kai said. A school of fish flashed through an aquarium at the end of the corridor, their long draping fins like fireworks in shades of orange and blue. They wandered closer to watch. ‘Tell me about your schooldays.’
Irene suppressed her immediate reaction to bristle. That was so unfair. She’d never – well, hardly ever – asked him about his past. About his father. About why he’d been living with his uncle instead. About his mysterious ‘low-born’ mother. About anything particularly personal – unless there was no other choice. ‘Must we?’ she said drily.
‘I thought friendships were supposed to be built on honesty,’ Kai said, a little plaintively.
‘Maybe,’ Irene conceded, ‘but not necessarily full disclosure.’
He shrugged. ‘I assumed it was just, well, school.’
Irene reflected for a moment on how sensitive his question really was, in the light of their mission to save that world. After all, everything they said could be overheard. And this was a chapter of her life that she had never really discussed with other Librarians either. The fish beyond the glass circled in aimless patterns, and she wondered if they were aware that they were trapped in a glass tank, or if they assumed that there were always walls and that was simply how life was. ‘Kai,’ she said, ‘I will try to be honest with you.’
About some things, at least, she thought.
‘The problem is that my parents are – were – very good Librarians, which means that they were excellent spies and thieves, and they brought me up to be like them. They needed to have absolute control of information, because of their training, too. They had that need to know everything that was going on around them, in case it could be a danger. They were constantly on their guard. Always watching, always studying, always working, because that’s what they were. And they were absolutely certain that whatever they did was for the best reasons – and that those reasons justified anything at all.’
Kai was silent, listening to her, but she knew he understood she was also describing herself at her worst. She couldn’t entirely blame her parents if she was just as careful, just as paranoid – even if she’d learned it from them.
Irene swallowed. Her throat was dry. ‘When they sent me to boarding school, at first I was furious. I wasn’t good enough to go with them! I had a whole lot of complicated feelings which didn’t make me a very pleasant little girl. But the school was good for me. Living full-time with people who weren’t Librarians – who didn’t revel in secrecy and have a need to control everything around them . . . It taught me some things which aren’t in the Library code of conduct.’
She remembered something Melusine had said, a detail from Irene’s permanent record: You were educated at boarding school due to parents having growing problems with your behaviour. Had living together with her been as difficult for her parents as it had been for her?
‘So, now you know.’ She made herself look at him. ‘That school gave me something I badly needed. Which is why . . .’ Which is why I’ll do whatever’s necessary to save it. ‘. . . I sometimes find it difficult to talk about it.’
Before Kai could respond, there was a call from further down the corridor. Irene would have sworn there hadn’t been a door there a moment ago. A woman in a floral bikini was waving at them. ‘Honoured guests! Mr Nemo requests that you attend for drinks and dinner.’