It was early evening in the Vienna Naschmarkt, and all the food stalls and mini-restaurants along the long street were up and running. Delicious odours tempted the prospective diner – fish and garlic, steak and sausage, curry and mustard and falafel. They all combined into a melange that would have been unthinkable in an actual meal, but which lured the nose and set the salivary glands flowing.
‘How much further does this market go on?’ Kai asked, half glancing at Irene. Things were still a little tense between them. ‘We don’t want to be late.’
He had a point. They were off to deliver the gang’s ‘protection money’ and their instructions had been clear. Show up at seven o’clock on the dot, under the stall with a blue awning at the far end of the Naschmarkt – Vienna’s old night market. While technically Kai and Jerome were the contacts for the gang, Irene had invited herself along. Ernst and Felix were holding the fort with Indigo – ready to evacuate if CENSOR showed up. Tina was circling the Naschmarkt area in a small van, in case emergency pickup was needed.
‘It shouldn’t be much further,’ Irene said. The stalls along the street became more rundown and displayed shorter menus as they continued. The ones where they’d started, near the Ringstrasse – the circular boulevard at the heart of old Vienna – were good quality, tourist traps, or both. But further down, they grew seedier and cheaper. Not so much as to be dangerous – well, Irene reflected, perhaps not a place to be walking alone late at night – but perfect for illicit dealings.
‘There.’ Jerome nodded at a blue awning flapping in the rising wind. ‘That one, I think.’
The three of them perched on rickety stools at the stall’s single bench. It advertised Middle Eastern food, but it neither looked nor smelled appetizing. Irene checked her watch, just as a young woman laid an acquisitive hand on Kai’s arm.
She was strapped into tight Lycra and far too much fake leather. Her hair was a mix of blue and purple which gleamed under the streetlights, and her eyes were generously smudged with eyeshadow. ‘Hey, handsome. You here for the dog racing?’
‘We are,’ Jerome said, before Kai could wrench his arm away. He slid a small-denomination bill across the counter to the owner. ‘For your trouble.’
‘Not a problem,’ the man said, clearly used to that sort of exchange. Tucking the note away, he began serving another customer.
Irene watched the young woman carefully. It didn’t seem as if she could be concealing a weapon; everything fitted too snugly. ‘Straight handover?’ Irene asked.
‘The boss would like a word first,’ the young woman said. Under her bravado and the heavy eyeshadow, she looked more than uneasy; she seemed spooked.
‘And if we don’t want a word?’ Kai asked. He removed her hand from his arm gently but firmly.
‘He said it’d be a good idea – for all of you,’ she said hastily, almost stuttering, ‘that he could do a deal with you.’
‘We’ve already agreed a deal,’ Jerome replied.
‘He said . . .’
Irene had been on the alert while they talked. There was no way anyone would trust this young woman to negotiate on her own. But there was nobody else close enough to jump them if they walked away, the people further down the counter were all busy with their food, and . . .
. . . There was a red dot of light on the counter between her and Kai. It was the laser sight of a rifle.
She glanced behind them, at the row of old houses which edged the street. There was no way of working out the origin of the rifle sight. And there was no way of knowing if this was the only gun trained on them, which ruled out her counting on shielding herself or the others with the Language. They were sitting ducks out here – which was, of course, the idea.
‘I think we should go with the nice lady,’ she said calmly. When Kai turned to frown at her, she indicated the red light on the counter. ‘It seems that her boss wants to talk to us urgently – how can we say no?’
If the building they were led to had been a person, it would have been a criminal leading a double-life. Neighbours would say, ‘But he was such a nice man!’ after the police had finished their investigation and removed the bodies. On the outside it was a cheerful reseller, offering tickets for the latest shows and visits to surrounding attractions. But inside . . .
Past the main door and the front office were dull grey walls and uncarpeted flooring. There were dark stains in the corners, and Irene imagined wash-downs that hadn’t managed to get rid of all the blood. She could almost see people coming in one end . . . who didn’t necessarily come out the other. There were absolutely no cameras. What happened inside the ticket reseller would stay inside the ticket reseller.
Several large men had taken custody of them as they walked through the front door. They’d been searched, and Jerome’s gun removed. The girl had been sent away with a packet of something pharmaceutical. If this had been a high-chaos world, it couldn’t have conformed to archetypes more perfectly. And it had all been done with the bare minimum of speech.
Irene hadn’t tried resisting, and the others had followed her example. She was very curious about what was going on. If the gang had simply wanted them dead, they could easily have shot them from a distance, or put explosives under their office, or . . . really, it was rather depressing how simple it was to kill someone. So what did they want?
They were bustled into an office, where the man behind the desk was best described as grey: grey hair, grey suit, grey eyes, grey teeth. He even had a grey slimline laptop, and his grey coffee mug was resting on its discreetly closed surface. He looked over them, an insultingly slow assessment. ‘So you’re the new boys in town,’ he finally said.
Irene decided this was not the moment to stand up for female representation. ‘You wanted a word?’
‘I’m looking for some new hackers and coders. I thought I’d offer you the job.’
Irene, Kai and Jerome exchanged glances. ‘Oh, we wouldn’t want to step on the toes of your current people,’ Kai said.
‘That won’t be an issue.’
Which suggested that said toes had been turned up, and said people would never be heard from again. ‘Why us?’ Irene asked. ‘We’re new here.’
‘Right. Which is why I know you haven’t got any local connections.’
‘We’re just blockchain entrepreneurs—’ Irene tried.
‘Shut it.’ He pointed a split-nailed finger at her. ‘I had people at the Nonpareil last night. You and that guy were there when it all went down.’ His finger shifted to Jerome. ‘Then afterwards, you weren’t on the police or casino records. No names, no photos – nothing. Someone cleaned up after you real good. Well, I want that someone on my payroll.’
Wonderful. We’ve shot ourselves in the foot by being too good at our jobs.
‘So who’s in charge?’ he demanded.
‘Her,’ Kai said, before Irene could suggest anyone else.
‘Is that so?’ The grey man sat back in his chair.
‘I can talk a machine into anything,’ Irene bluffed. She could guess why Kai had chosen her. As long as the grey man wanted a computer expert, he’d keep her alive.
‘Helpful attitude. I like it. All right. I’m going to want you to get into police records. I’m also going to want a – what do they call it? – bitcoin thing. And we handle a lot of file distribution. You’ll be doing that too. Don’t worry, you’ll get paid. But your team’s working for me now.’
‘We’ve got commitments elsewhere,’ Jerome put in. ‘You can’t expect us to drop out on jobs that we’ve already agreed to.’
‘So you work overtime. I’ll buy you coffee. They do good coffee here in Vienna.’
‘And for that you pay us a lot of money . . .’ Kai said, ‘and you don’t report us to CENSOR.’
‘Yeah, that’d be nasty. For you. Glad you’re getting the idea.’
Irene’s back itched with the knowledge that four men with guns were standing behind her and the other two. This was the sort of situation where the wrong word could result in gunfire and casualties. None of them were immune to being killed by a stupid gunshot from a stupid thug, in a situation which had absolutely nothing to do with their real job. ‘Just give us our priorities,’ she said.
‘The police records come first,’ the boss said. ‘As for CENSOR – you could say we have a certain understanding with them. We do them favours, they make it worth our while. If you cross me, my sources would be very interested in suspicious individuals like you.’
A very risky idea suddenly struck her. If she tried it and this gang turned out to be loyal foot-soldiers, she and her group would be finished. On the other hand, if she was right and they survived the gamble, they could gain invaluable intelligence from what was almost an inside source. The possible information justified the risk. ‘CENSOR really seems to rule in these parts. You wouldn’t want us to hack them, would you, to gain an edge? Just say the word.’ Irene mentally crossed her fingers.
The grey man narrowed his eyes, his expression indicating Irene had managed to suggest something that was both completely unthinkable and extremely tempting. She breathed a sigh of relief. It was the sort of reaction that she’d have, if someone simply offered up a copy of Shakespeare’s First Folio.
‘You think you really could?’ he finally said.
‘Yes,’ Irene said confidently, wishing she had Jerome’s poker face.
Jerome chose this moment to say, ‘You can’t turn us into CENSOR now, can you? They’d ask us questions, and now we can give them certain answers – about you.’
‘We would have just paid up and left,’ Kai chipped in in support. ‘You can’t blame us now, for protecting our interests.’
‘Are the two of you collaborating to say the worst possible thing?’ Irene demanded in disbelief. She’d get nothing on CENSOR at this rate.
‘I feel attacked,’ Jerome said.
‘I definitely feel attacked,’ Kai answered.
They were bonding, which was good – how often did a Fae and a dragon manage cheerful banter? – but Irene really wished that they’d chosen some other time and place to do it. She sighed and turned to the grey man. ‘We’re going to cooperate.’
‘You two are lucky you’ve got one sensible woman on the team. You, kid.’ He was talking to Irene again. ‘You find out one thing for me from CENSOR, and I’ll let you off your first fortnight’s fees.’
‘What do you want to know?’ Irene asked. If it seemed useful, maybe Indigo could pluck it from CENSOR’s databanks – not that they’d bother to hand the information over.
‘Something happened yesterday. CENSOR raided the University Library, then the Spanish Riding School right after. They are all stirred up and my sources tell me something bad’s going down. Find out what it is.’
Irene felt her heart skip a beat. What if CENSOR really had been following their trail at the library and at the riding school? It could risk the job – in which case, Indigo really needed to do more digging. If the grey man had sources inside CENSOR, then he could tell her more about it. But this back and forth was simply too slow. She had to know. Time for a better lever.
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ she said, holding his gaze. ‘In the meantime, you perceive I’m trustworthy, and you need to tell me everything you know about CENSOR.’
There was a sudden babble from the room as all the thugs tried to speak at the same time. Pain spiked inside Irene’s head – the penalty of using the Language on so many.
‘Shut up, the lot of you!’ the grey man ordered, and his flunkies went quiet. ‘I guess you need to know, if you’re going to do the job right,’ he continued. Self-rationalization based on a Language-induced shift of perception was a wonderful thing. ‘It’s like this. CENSOR pays us for information. We pass on anything weird that we pick up, and they tell us what to listen out for too. If we slip them a few extra names to “deal with”, that’s just how we do business. But since the university and riding school raids, we haven’t heard from them – and that’s really unusual. Maybe someone’s been badmouthing us. If so, I need to know who. But if it’s because something huge is going down – I want in.’
‘Thank you, that’s very helpful.’ So CENSOR had connections on both sides of the law – within the police and organized crime. Their task was looking harder by the minute. Irene gave the grey man her most appreciative smile. ‘Did CENSOR mention any keywords or other data? Something I could use in my search of their records?’
The grey man shrugged. ‘They said to listen out for anything about libraries or librarians. Maybe someone at the University Library’s implicated.’
Pure dread clutched at Irene’s throat. That was one explanation, but the other possibility had dire implications for their mission. On first contact, the thugs had threatened to turn Kai and Jerome over to CENSOR if they didn’t pay up. Their list of fake accusations had included ‘hiding books of magic’. Was the Library really on CENSOR’s watch list – or was this just an uncomfortable coincidence? Who was actually behind them?
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘I’ll do my best.’
Perhaps he’d sensed that she was giving in too easily, for his eyes narrowed. ‘I’ll send someone to check on you.’
Well, that would be unfortunate for whoever the someone was.
‘Piet, show them out,’ he said. ‘And get me more coffee.’
Mercifully, Jerome and Kai hadn’t made any further attempts to interfere. Irene quietly thanked any nearby deities as she headed for the door. They’d need all the time they could get to evacuate their base.
Then one of the quieter thugs frowned. ‘Boss?’ he said. ‘Why did you just tell her all that?’
‘What?’ the grey man said.
Irene bit back a curse. The you perceive Language trick only lasted for a short amount of time, but it didn’t usually wear off this fast. She felt Kai go tense next to her and nudged him towards the door. ‘You perceive that there’s nothing to worry about,’ she tried again.
The sudden headache made her stumble, and Kai caught her elbow. Jerome ushered them out of the room, before closing the door. ‘Lock it,’ he barked.
She bit her lip, focusing. ‘Door, lock. Lock, jam.’
The woman standing guard in the front office looked at them suspiciously. ‘Something wrong?’
‘Not a problem,’ Jerome said cheerfully, but her hand was now resting on her gun. ‘We’ve got our orders—’
The guard collapsed as Kai delivered a swift blow to the back of her neck.
‘I hope that was worth it,’ Kai said, dragging the unconscious woman behind the counter. ‘The moment the Language wears off again, they’ll be after us.’
‘They’re looking for a Librarian,’ Irene said, and dry-swallowed a couple of aspirin.
‘So?’
‘Who else knows about Librarians, besides dragons and Fae?’
Jerome had flipped his phone open, but he paused mid-text. ‘So that’s why CENSOR gave Hao Chen a pass at the casino. Of course the dragons are in with them.’ His gaze shifted to Kai. ‘Your sister’s got a point.’
‘About?’ Kai queried, bristling.
‘About what happens when dragons are in charge.’
The door crashed open, and thugs spilled out. Behind them, the grey man yelled in a tone of genuine panic, ‘Shoot the witch!’
All that liaison with CENSOR, and you never expected to run into a real witch? Irene ducked behind the counter. ‘Guns, jam!’ she shouted.
Jerome and Kai were dealing with the thugs. She slipped past them into the room they’d just left. As she expected, the boss was shaking his phone and cursing.
‘No phone signal in here, right?’ she asked.
He flinched, looking at her as if she was an abomination out of an X-rated horror film poster. It took him a moment to remember his gun, and he pointed it at her with a shaking hand. ‘Stay away from me, witch!’
‘You’ve put me in an unfortunate position,’ Irene said. ‘I don’t suppose I can persuade you to keep your mouth shut about all this?’
‘Stay back or I’ll shoot!’
‘Your gun’s jammed,’ she reminded him. He’d been within earshot when she’d used the Language. ‘Work with me here. I don’t want to have to kill you.’
He pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. His nerve broke, and he made a bolt for the other door.
She grabbed his flimsy chair and threw it. It hit him in the back; he stumbled, giving her time to close in. He dropped the gun and pulled a knife from an inner pocket. She dodged sideways, avoiding his slicing blow, and kicked him in the knee. He sank to the ground, the knife skittering away.
‘Finished playing with your prey yet, madam witch?’ Kai enquired from the doorway.
The grey man made a wavering reach for his knife, so Irene stepped on his hand. She turned to Kai. ‘You’ve got all the others?’
‘Down and unconscious.’
‘All right. We’ve got work to do.’
Ten minutes later, the thugs, guard and boss alike were tied up in the interview chamber. Irene sealed the doors with the Language, bonding them to their frames. They wouldn’t hold against significant exterior assault, and the rooms weren’t airtight – the prisoners wouldn’t suffocate – but it would keep them all usefully out of the way for the next few hours.
‘So we’re blown,’ Jerome said, his tone cheerful rather than depressed. ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’
‘Maybe,’ Irene said. ‘I’m thinking that we’ve been very lucky.’
Kai frowned. ‘I don’t follow. As far as I can see, we’ve been massively unlucky to have those idiots try to blackmail us, unlucky that they spotted us in the first place—’
‘And unlucky that dragons are involved with CENSOR?’ Jerome asked, with mock-innocence.
Kai levelled an icy glance at him, a glint of dragon-red in his eyes. ‘CENSOR could have captured a Librarian in the past. That could well be why they know “Library” and “Librarian” mean something.’
‘You don’t believe that, and neither do I,’ Jerome said.
Irene took a deep breath, focusing herself. She didn’t believe it either, though she could understand why Kai wouldn’t admit the obvious. ‘We’re lucky,’ she said, interrupting their exchange, ‘because the grey man thought he could extort money from us, so he hadn’t reported us to CENSOR yet. We still have the advantage.’
‘But the moment they get out of there, they’ll tell CENSOR – and everyone else.’
‘Then we move up the timetable.’ Irene flexed her fingers. ‘We don’t have time to wait. We’ll make the run tonight.’