by The library of Mandridore is to die for.
I mean that almost literally. I’m sure I felt my heart stop when we walked in.
Tall people need a tall library, yes? This one soared up and up and up, to such a height there were wisps of cloud drifting near the ceiling. If there was a ceiling. No word of a lie, there really were, though I don’t suppose they ever took it upon themselves to rain. Every inch of every wall was covered in shelves housing perfectly-ordered rows of books. I looked for the traditional long ladders winding up the bookcases, but of these there was no sign. I did, however, spot a large tome floating at a leisurely pace down from a distant shelf. At Mandridore, one did not travel to the books; the books travelled to you.
I could get used to such a place.
‘When I die,’ I heard Mauf say from inside my satchel, ‘bury me here.’
I hoped he was busy soaking up whatever he could get his filthy book-mitts upon.
A dash of magick kept the light levels on the muted side, the better to protect the collections. This lent the library’s several chambers a peaceful, serene air which could not but please. I’d walked in and felt immediately at ease.
Unfortunately, things did not go nearly so well as this auspicious beginning suggested.
While Jay wandered off to browse, drawn like a magnet to a floor-level shelf crowded with enormous leather-bound volumes, I went with Alban to the grand mahogany desk behind which sat the librarian on duty. A large, handsome woman of middle age, she became flustered at Alban’s approach, and dropped a brief curtsey. Some subtle change to Alban’s expression told me he did not welcome this deference.
‘Dame Hellenna, I wonder if you could help us,’ he said, with an approximation of his usual smile. ‘We are interested in anything you can find on the topic of Torvaston the Second. Periods of particular interest include directly before, and any time after, the fall of Farringale.’
I did not at all see why, but something about this request made Dame Hellenna nervous. She glanced uncertainly at me, then made for the bookshelves with the air of a woman running away.
A slight frown creased Alban’s brow.
The jumpy librarian soon returned. ‘I— I’m afraid there are no books available on those topics, sir,’ she said, not meeting his eye.
‘None?’ repeated Alban blankly.
Dame Hellenna shook her head.
‘How can that be? King Torvaston founded this Court!’
The librarian began to look most unhappy. ‘I quite see your point, sir, but nonetheless…’
‘You’re telling me,’ said Alban with forced calm, ‘that no one has written of Mandridore’s founders in nearly four centuries?’
‘If they have, sir, their books are not kept here.’
‘That is impossible. There must be something.’
I laid a hand on Alban’s arm, for he seemed to be working himself into a froth. ‘Forgive me,’ I said to Dame Hellenna, ‘but were there any books on those topics, at any time in the past?’
Her eyes got a bit shifty. ‘I… couldn’t say, madam.’
Uh huh.
Alban was all over that like a rash. ‘So there aren’t now but that hasn’t always been the case. When were they removed, and by whose order?’
‘They— I don’t— I don’t precisely know, sir, but…’ She glanced about, as though she might be overheard, though no one was nearby save for myself. ‘I know of no specific removal of those books, but there are records of a general purge undertaken some years ago, by order of your highness’s mother’s esteemed father.’
It took me a moment to parse that. The queen’s dad, or Alban’s adoptive grandfather. Got it.
‘The library was overfull, of course, though so it always is…’
‘How many books were taken out?’ said Alban crisply.
‘The records suggest a great many, sir, though few titles are listed by name.’
‘When was this?’
‘More than fifty years ago.’
Well, well. Interesting. A spot of spring-cleaning would make a good cover for the removal of a few inconvenient books, though I failed to see why a former royal would have wanted to. What had he found out about Torvaston?
Did Alban’s mother know?
I could see similar questions echoing through Alban’s thoughts, for he’d developed a grim demeanour, and a note of worry lurked in his eyes.
Dame Hellenna appeared to be suffering some second thoughts. ‘I… beg your highness will not inform the queen of my comments, sir. My job—’
‘I need not mention your name,’ Alban said, in a fractionally softened tone. ‘Thank you for your help, Hellenna.’
Upon which words we turned away, leaving poor Dame Hellenna to recover her poise.
Jay was happily installed at a table with a stack of no fewer than eight gigantic tomes beside him. They were too big for the table, so he’d piled them up on the floor beside him. The heap was half as tall as I was.
‘I’m sorry to interrupt your book party,’ I said, with more sincerity than probably appeared, for he did look happy. ‘We have hit a snag.’ I told him about the Torvaston problem.
Jay regarded Alban thoughtfully. ‘So his highness is off to lay the smack down on her majesty?’
‘Something like that.’
‘While he’s doing that.’ Jay turned a page the size of a small sail, and the word Farringale caught my eye. An exquisitely detailed drawing depicted a block of several rooms, gathered together like a honeycomb. After a moment, the penny dropped: Farringale’s library. This must be where Alban had copied his hand-drawn map from. Jay looked up at me. ‘We could trawl from library to library looking for lost books, but it seems to me there’s only one place we can be sure of discovering the truth.’
‘You want to go back to Farringale?’
‘Don’t you?’
No. Yes. I did, sort of? And at the same time I really didn’t. I’d suspected, since the beginning, that our going there was precisely what Their Majesties had in mind when they’d summoned us to the Court. ‘I don’t want to do it alone,’ I said. ‘Nor can we, really, since we’ll need House’s help if we want the third key back.’
‘Do you think Milady will agree to partnering with the Court on this? She was against our ever going there in the first place.’
‘True,’ I conceded. ‘But since we came out alive, and with some highly interesting books in tow, I’ve some hopes she might have changed her mind.’
‘Right. We can’t take the baron this time, though.’ Jay sat back in his chair, and glanced perfunctorily at Alban. ‘Sorry, I mean the prince.’
Alban’s brow went up.
‘Too dangerous for you,’ said Jay. ‘We could have stayed longer the last time, if we hadn’t had to evacuate you.’
‘There is now a cure,’ Alban pointed out, presumably referring to the condition of ortherex… infestation, or whichever charming term by which one might discuss that disease.
‘Which has never been tested in Farringale,’ I pointed out. ‘As danger zones go, that place is code red. And you’re the crown prince, for heaven’s sake. I can’t believe Their Majesties let you go in the first place.’
Alban busied himself adjusting the cuff of his left sleeve. I received the impression he was avoiding my eye.
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘You didn’t ask them.’
‘I had their authority in the same way that you had Milady’s.’
‘Touché.’
‘You found nothing?’ said Queen Ysurra perhaps half an hour later. Alban had escorted us back to Their Majesties’ manor, but not to the Topaz Parlour. The queen sat, surprisingly, in the kitchen, sorting an array of dried flowers across the top of an aged, much-scrubbed oak table. There was no sign of the king.
‘Not precisely nothing,’ I said placatingly. I was perched atop a stool on the other side of the table, with a glass of clear, cold water before me. I was more disconcerted than encouraged by this peculiar simplicity. I’d only just begun to get used to all the pomp and gilding. ‘The ortherex simply aren’t such a problem in the fifth Britain. They are viewed as pests, like rats. Which means, the conditions which led to their total overrun of old Farringale may well be unique. So. If we can find out precisely what those conditions are, and how the parasites came to proliferate so excessively, then perhaps we can reverse those changes. If we can, the ortherex will die out.’
‘Which they should have, already,’ said Jay. ‘There are no trolls left alive there, and nothing but raw magick for the creatures to eat. That makes no sense. We can’t find an answer to these mysteries in another world; Melmidoc had no idea what we were talking about, and Whitmore’s library had nothing. We need to go deep into Farringale itself, and take a look with our own eyes.’
Queen Ysurra carefully crumbled desiccated lavender into a bowl, wafting pungent aromas everywhere. I took a deep, grateful inhalation. I’ve always found it a relaxing scent, and perhaps so did Her Majesty. ‘I cannot deny that I had hoped for just such a venture in time,’ she said, after a moment’s thought. ‘But not in so ill-prepared a fashion. What do you propose to do?’
‘We would like the Court to partner with the Society,’ I said. ‘Jay and I will spearhead this mission, but we would like our own allies with us. And we’d like to do it with your blessing, and Milady’s — not least because we’ll need every resource either organisation can put at our disposal.’
Queen Ysurra’s gaze went to Alban.
‘We won’t be taking Alban with us,’ I said quickly. ‘Not into such danger.’
That apparently wasn’t what was on her mind. ‘Do you really think my father knew something about this?’ she said in a low voice.
‘It looks that way,’ said Alban softly. ‘It does seem that he was hiding something about Torvaston.’
The queen looked, suddenly, haggard, and I remembered what Alban had said about her health. She sagged over the table top, weary beyond even her advanced years. ‘We had no thought, when we began with this ill-fated idea, that there could be any scandal attached.’
I began to feel afraid that she might refuse us. ‘Our promise, your majesty,’ I said firmly. ‘We are well used to keeping secrets. It is to be hoped we will find nothing to the detriment of your family, but if we do… provided it endangers no one, we undertake to keep it to ourselves. This I can promise on behalf of the Society as a whole.’
I suppose so conditional a promise was not as reassuring as Ysurra might have liked, but she sighed, and gave me a nod. ‘I cannot prevent your going. Not when Naldran and I opened this can of worms ourselves. But I beg you to be… careful.’
A host of different warnings could be read into those words. Careful of what? Everything? Everything. It was, after all, a dangerous place. Ortherex might be dangerous mostly to trolls, but we did not absolutely know that they wouldn’t attack us. There were griffins, too, and that was just scratching the surface. What if we were right, and it was magick-flooded? What else might we find when we lingered in those ruined halls?
My stomach fluttering with a mix of excitement and fear, I stood up and gave Her Majesty my best curtsey. ‘With your leave, majesty, we’ll get going immediately. No time like the present.’
Queen Ysurra just looked at me, and her face was grey. ‘Thank you, Miss Vesper,’ she said. ‘Mr. Patel. Alban will see that you receive everything you need.’
‘A couple of keys to Farringale, for a start,’ I said. ‘The third one’s our problem.’
