All the books had been incredibly dry documents detailing long histories and laws relating the ridiculously complicated mage society. I now knew more about the state of legal affairs within the wizard system than I’d ever wanted to. Fortunately for myself, I’d had the shifter Way Directives hammered into me from the moment I’d arrived in Cornwall from a young age so I was pretty confident that I could absorb ridiculous rules and regulations without too much bother. The best thing was that there were remarkable similarities between the mages’ system and the shifters’ one. Other than some different terminology relating to specific magic details, the rules could virtually have been written by the same person. Once I started answering the questions, I realised that I was able to block out the pain in my head and fly through the answers.
When I’d finally finished, I put down my pencil and stood up. Looking around, I could see no sign of the little gargoyle. I was tempted for a moment just to leave my answer sheet where it was and let him pick it up when he deigned to reappear from behind whichever pile of books he happened to be hovering next to at this point in time, but I was cognizant enough to recognise that it was possible that if some other mage like Thomas, who was keen for me to fail, came across it, then it would mysteriously disappear into the ether. There was no other choice but to find Slim and put it into his purple paws in person.
The light in library had a different hue now to when I’d arrived, casting softer dapples across the floor and shelves. The growl in my stomach attested equally to the fact that I’d been here for some time, and I started to wonder what time it was and whether I was too late for lunch. There were a few mage-ly looking figures hovering in between some of the stacks, but I didn’t bother asking them for help in locating Slim. I had a pretty good idea by now how helpful I could expect them to be. Instead, I continued to wander up the vast corridor, peeking left and right as I went and breathing in the familiar and comforting smell of old books. My headache had returned with a vengeance now and seemed to be getting worse, throbbing more and more the further into the annals of the library that I went.
I was starting to feel the familiar heat of irritation uncoil itself in my veins when a title crammed tightly onto one of the shelves to the left of me caught my eye. My eyebrows raised in surprise, and I reached over to pull it out. I’d been right. This edition was older than the one I’d used in John’s office all those months ago but it was definitely the same Fae-Human dictionary that I’d used to break the password and hack into his computer. Almost unconsciously, my fingers turned through the pages until I found the entry for Herensuge – the Basque definition for dragon. My chest tightened when I found it, and again I couldn’t help wondering just how much John had really known about my heritage and why he’d never told me. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. I’d never know the truth so it was pointless wondering. Snapping the dictionary closed, I leaned back to the shelf to attempt to slide it back. It was a tight fit and I was struggling to squeeze it in when someone rudely pushed past me, jolting my body against the rows of books. I inadvertently lost my balance and half tumbled to my knees, cursing. Fucking mages. At least shifters had some semblance of manners. Even Anton wouldn’t have been so crude as to get a kick out of a move like that.
I would have gone after the offending mage, promises to the Arch-Mage be damned, but the throbbing in my skull had transformed itself into a searing pain that was making it hard to think straight. The idea that maybe I’d incurred some kind of serious injury at some point, and now had a blood clot or brain tumour invading my body flitted through my mind with the unerring whisper of every hypochondriac’s worst nightmare. Squeezing my eyes tightly shut, I tried to will away the pain then, when that didn’t work, I pushed my palms against the uneven surfaces of the books to try and bring myself back up to my feet. And that was when I felt it.
It was a soft tingle against my fingertips, as if one of the books was almost vibrating. I’d felt that half-buzz before. I half opened one eye and squinted towards where the sensation was coming from. My jaw tightened when I realised that I wasn’t mistaken. Without thinking further, I reached over and pulled out a dusty looking book, the now forgotten Human-Fae dictionary dangling half off the shelf above me where I’d been trying to push it back in. I focused instead on the new tome in my hands, that was continuing to hum against my skin, and moved down and sat on the floor, carefully turning over the first page. The familiarity of the opening image floored me: a stunningly beautiful landscape with undulating emerald green hills in the background, a shining blue river, and what appeared to be a pomegranate tree. I turned the next page, but I knew what I would see before I got there. It was a Fae rune, singly screaming itself at me from the pristine white page. This was exactly the same book that I’d come across in the Clava bookshop, the one that had freaked me out so much and made me really doubt what the old woman had been up to.
I tried to rationalise it to myself. I’d been in a bookshop. What else would you find in a bookshop other than books? Now I was in a library. Hello! And it was a vast library stocked with hundreds of thousands of titles no less. Of course there would be copies of the same book. But in such a large library was it really credible that I’d come across such an unusual and rare book without even looking? I moved my hand up to my scalp to twist my fingers thoughtfully through the hair that I no longer had, and then stopped abruptly in midair and brought my fingers to my nose instead, sniffing. Oh God. There was a definite whiff of stale bonfire clinging to them. I raised the book itself up to my face and sniffed again, even more cautiously this time. The smell was even stronger. As if the book had been in a fire and the pages had been burnt. I flicked quickly through the rest of it, not looking to see what was inscribed within but instead hunting for any signs of damage. There were none.
I rocked back. Okay, so it could be a coincidence that I’d come across the same book. Coincidences happen all the time; in fact it would be a coincidence if there were no coincidences (I struggled mentally with that one although I think I got it). But could it really be a coincidence that a copy of the book that I last saw burning in the debris of Mrs. Alcoon’s shop now turned up here with the definite and distinctive odour of burnt paper? I wasn’t completely stupid. Something was going on here. I glanced down at my blue robes and realised that they would actually have some use after all. Taking a quick glance around to make sure that no-one was within eye shot, I hiked up the robes and shoved the book under one of my arms. The robes would drape over my body well enough to conceal its shape and I’d be able to sneak it out of the library and examine it in more detail later. Assuming I didn’t have to move my arms very much of course, that was. Another thought struck me, and I reached up and scooped out the dictionary that was still half hanging off the shelf above me and did the same, only this time shoving it under my other armpit. Hopefully I wouldn’t sweat too much into the books.
I stood up and smoothed the blue material down, trying to crane my neck around my body to see if the corners of the books were suspiciously poking out. They seemed to be hidden well enough from what I could judge. Carefully squatting down so as not to disturb their positions, I grabbed my test answer sheet from the floor where it had fallen when I had initially been shoved against the shelves. I tried not to think about whether that was a coincidence or not as well, and instead stiffly got myself back to standing position and walked back out into the main area of the library, keeping my arms firmly at my sides to hold the books in place. I realised that the headache that had been bothering me so very much had now completely vanished. It must have been psychosomatic, I told myself. If not, then it had been a tension headache from the stress of having to take the stupid test in the first place. It wasn’t that the book itself had given me the pain to alert me to its presence. No. That would be impossible because it was an inert object. Not alive. Nor could it have been reincarnated from a fire on the other side of the country. Definitely not.
“Now what the feck are you doing?” came a familiarly gruff voice from behind me.
I turned slowly, attempting to look natural. “I was looking for you. Here,” I said, uncomfortably bending my elbow at the joint in order to pass over my answer sheet to the librarian, without the books dropping from their precarious position under my robes, “these are my answers. I think you’ll find they’re all in order.”
Slim snatched them from me and scanned down the sheet, huffing as he did so. He pursed his lips. “Very well. I suppose you’ve passed.” He looked up from the sheet and stared at me, the wings at his back continuing to flap. “Can’t say I think much of your fecking penmanship though.”
I inclined my head slightly and muttered that I would work on it. The floating gargoyle stared at me for a moment, and I could feel myself starting to sweat uncomfortably. Then he blinked with what seemed to be some kind of dismissal and turned, flapping off in the other direction.
I exhaled slowly. I might just have made it. Making an odd shuffling turn that would have looked bizarre to anyone who was watching, I maneuvered myself towards the library doors and stiffly walked out.
Chapter Five
I felt considerably more confident once I’d left the library and began the hike back to my little attic garret. Both books were tight under my arms and, although I had to take care to grip them tightly, I passed several mages who didn’t seem to notice anything peculiar. Of course, they all veered considerably far out of my way when they saw me coming and averted their eyes to avoid meeting my gaze, and I knew that once I’d passed them they were all staring at me in wide-eyed fascination, safe in the knowledge that I wouldn’t then be able to catch their eyes. So far, however, no-one was shouting anything about the crazy bitch who wasn’t really a mage trying to steal things and hide them about her person though.
I was particularly glad that the thumping headache was showing no signs of returning, despite my muffled alarm that it really had been caused by the Fae book alerting me to its presence. I kept whispering in my head that I was being ridiculous, but I didn’t really manage to fully convince myself. However, I did feel a sense of churning nausea that resembled an odd sensation of oily seasickness at the thought that my thievery would be discovered. I was pretty sure that I’d pushed the Ministry of Mages to the limits of its patience with me. I didn’t have much of an idea about what they would do if all this training stuff didn’t work out, and truthfully I didn’t really care all that much about what happened to me. Other than Mrs. Alcoon, there was no-one anymore who depended on my existence or who would probably even miss me that much if I was gone. Imagining a tiny violin playing in my ear, I scowled. I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself, I really wasn’t. I was just facing reality. Solus was a Fae, therefore notoriously fickle, and would forget me in a heartbeat. Alex would probably be thrilled that he’d no longer be held accountable for my actions. Betsy and Tom had each other and would do fine while Julia was far too capable on her own, even crippled as she was, to need me underfoot causing the problems that I repeatedly seemed to involve myself in. And Corrigan…well, I didn’t really know what he’d think. Regardless of all of them though, if I didn’t make it through this training then Mrs. Alcoon was finished. That was completely unacceptable. Therefore, it was imperative that I kept my nose clean and didn’t do anything else stupid. Like getting caught sneaking books out of the library.
