Evastany

29 IV-1

29 IV

I now find myself with the same problem as Llandry, in that it becomes extremely difficult to keep track of time out in a Library like this. I have tried to organise my account chronologically, as she did; it is the only system that makes any sense. But how do you write by date, when it is impossible to know what day it is at home? I feel like a day or two has passed since my last update, so that is what I have written down.

If I return to the Seven to find myself, ultimately, weeks off the actual date — which I imagine very likely — then I apologise in advance.

Having smoothly excused myself from all possible reproach on that score, I shall move on.

We had (as I have said) approximately two days of time with nothing to do. Tren and I amused ourselves by playing games — sometimes in person, sometimes by way of tapping upon our adjoining door with various parts of our anatomy.

Don’t ask. It is amazing what one can find entertaining, if one is only bored enough.

We speculated wildly as to what they were doing with all this time, though without drawing any useful conclusions. I will spare you the details. We were fed, which briefly alleviated our boredom but not by much. The food was not delivered by a person; instead, a kind of hatch-thing (forgive my imprecision — engineering is not my talent) opened in the floor and a little platform-thing rose into view, bearing plates and dishes and cups all full of good things. Once I had finished eating, it was all taken away again. Lovely. I couldn’t decide whether that meant these apartments were always used for captives — indeed, had been especially designed for the purpose — or whether this function had been originally intended for the convenience of more voluntary occupants. That question occupied many a dull hour, I can tell you.

My torment was briefly lifted by the appearance of Gio. Under the circumstances I felt rather like kissing him again, but I wisely kept that fact to myself this time.

I saluted him instead, from my comfortably recumbent posture upon the bed. ‘Hurrah, the cavalry!’

Gio surveyed me. I called myself comfortably recumbent but it might be fairer to say hopelessly inert or dejectedly unmoving. ‘You look bored,’ said he.

‘Yes. So I hope you have brought some exciting news.’

‘Actually…’ he looked apologetic. ‘I was hoping you might have some.’

I sighed deeply and flopped back into the blankets. ‘Ylona strikes me as an insufferably dull person. Does she do nothing of note or interest?’

Gio shrugged. ‘I begin to think that her plan for winning the leadership largely consists of dishing enough dirt on my grandmother. She does not appear to have a great deal of competition, otherwise.’

‘It’s a time-honoured tradition, I suppose.’

‘Yes. So. Any dirt to dish?’

‘Not much yet, but Gio…’ I sat up and regarded him with earnest concern. ‘What have you done with Ori?’

‘What have I done with him? He’s with me.’

‘Do people know what he is?’

‘A draykon, you mean? No, we’ve kept his identity quiet. As far as Ylona knows, he is a summoner from Glinnery and my lover and that’s it.’

‘Are you sure?’ I told him about the blue-garbed woman and her reference to a draykon.

Gio’s eyes narrowed. ‘Short hair, fond of blue? That sounds like Lania. She’s a cousin, of sorts. I didn’t realise she was back.’

‘Threat or not?’

‘I don’t know. She has always behaved like grandmother can do no wrong, but then, so did I, once. One tends to know what’s good for one’s health.’ He frowned, and thought, and shook his head. ‘I am pretty sure it’s not Ori she’s talking about. He’s been careful to do nothing that would give him away, and I don’t think they have any way to sense a draykon soul the way the draykoni can amongst themselves.’

‘All right. Good.’

‘I haven’t heard of a draykon up here, but I’ll ask around. Ylona might be interested to hear about that, anyway.’

He took his leave soon afterwards, looking cheered. It occurred to me that he had probably buttered up Ylona by promising her information about Dwinal — and subsequently allowed her to believe that he was collecting that information himself. It was much more comfortable for him to keep his distance from his grandmother, however, and use me as a source. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

At length, they came for us. I was stretched out upon my bed at the time, comfortably clad in my nightgown, wearing all the blankets, and staring at the ceiling with (most likely) that expression that says: just kill me, I would enjoy it more. When the knock came upon my door, I almost died of fright. I shot out of bed, heart furiously a-pound, and ran for the door.

Only to conclude, of course, that I couldn’t open it anyway. What was I doing? Why were they knocking?

‘Come in?’ I said, rather doubtfully.

The door opened, and it was Limbane again. That surprised me. Considering my two-day incarceration, I had expected the masquerade would have been abandoned. Why bother, when we must realise ourselves to be captive? (At least in theory — I do not anticipate that they know of my implant, yet).

‘Lady Glostrum,’ he said, with a scrupulously polite inclination of his head.

I merely eyed him, and did not reply.

This show of rudeness did not faze him. He offered me his arm. ‘We are ready to begin discussions, with my apologies for the delay. If I may escort you?’

‘The delay?’ I repeated in high disgust. I was not disposed to let him off so easily. ‘Was it really necessary to leave me waiting for two days together, and with no means of egress from this room?’

He hesitated, and I watched as his gaze travelled to the door and back to me. How would he explain the captivity?

Apparently he wouldn’t try. ‘My apologies,’ he said again. ‘Arrangements took longer than I had anticipated.’

I narrowed my eyes at that. Surely he could not imagine that I would be satisfied with such slippery language, such a total lack of explanation?

‘Will Mr. Dalsy be allowed out?’ I prompted. ‘What explanation do you have for his incarceration either?’

I realised at once that I had erred, for if I had been locked in this room alone for two days, how could I know that Dalsy had been imprisoned likewise? ‘That connecting door is rather thin,’ I added smoothly. ‘We have striven to entertain each other, by such means as we have available.’

‘I apologise.’

Really, that was it? He had nothing to offer but repeated apologies? I lost patience with the charade on the spot.

‘Permit me to make a guess,’ I said to him. ‘You are… Hyarn?’

His eyes widened, and I had the satisfaction of observing that I had temporarily robbed him of the power of speech. At length he gave a slight cough, backed away a step, and eyed me with a new wariness which afforded me great satisfaction. ‘Hyarn?’ he repeated.

‘Hyarn. A close associate of Dwinal, who is the current Master Lokantor of this Library. You met some of my friends, not long ago: Llandry and Pense, of Nuwelin, and Orillin Vance of Glinnery.’ I could have added, And you murdered Galywis, but I decided such a comment would be both dangerous and rather useless at that moment.

His lips curved in a faint, rueful smile. Then the vision of Limbane faded, and before me stood a stranger: a man much younger than Limbane, with close-cropped hair and an air of energy. ‘I had not thought that relations between you and Miss Sanfaer were so close.’

‘We communicate,’ I assured him.

‘Clearly.’

‘The masquerade was entirely purposeless, I assure you. I knew immediately that you were not Limbane. What can you have meant by it?’

‘Ah — we thought you would be more comfortable with a familiar face in charge.’

I snorted. It was spectacularly unladylike, but I couldn’t help it. ‘You thought I would be more comfortable with Limbane? Your information is sorely lacking.’

His eyebrows went up and he waited, perhaps hoping I would elaborate. But I have learned my lesson. With these people, never give away anything that you don’t have to, for they certainly will not. Why put oneself at a disadvantage?

He was not wrong to imagine that I might have felt more comfortable with someone else in charge, however. He killed Galywis. He had defended his own motives in doing so, not wholly without success; Galy had been mad beyond recall, and had done some terrible things himself. Still, entering into negotiations with a man who has recently proved himself capable of committing murder in cold blood was not a circumstance best calculated to inspire confidence in the proceedings.

Then again, Dwinal was hardly any better.

‘It would have been preferable,’ I informed him severely, ‘if you had approached me in better faith, without the deception you appear to have thought necessary.’

‘My apologies,’ he said for the third — or fourth? — time, and I gritted my teeth.

‘It would also have been nice if you had not abducted me.’

Hyarn tilted his head. ‘There was no abduction. You came willingly.’

‘Under false pretences.’

‘Not at all. I told you where we were going, and I did not lie to you about our reasons for seeking counsel with you.’

‘At the same time, you pretended to be somebody else.’

‘But you knew I was not Limbane.’

‘Yes.’

‘It did not deter you.’

‘I had reasons.’

He blinked. ‘Which were?’

‘I came in search of my students, who you absolutely have abducted.’

‘Not at all,’ said he serenely. ‘They were invited to train their Lokant abilities, and we provided them with the means.’

‘You pretended to be me! You, or one of your people.’

His faint smile returned. ‘As I implied. People feel more comfortable with familiar faces.’

And it was easier. I could extract Susa from Angstrun’s academy with the greatest of ease; but imagine the paperwork if Dwinal had sought to do so openly, on behalf of her Library!

‘Your behaviour throughout has been highly suspect,’ I informed him. ‘You have been deceitful, manipulative, high-handed and dishonest. Why should I or my organisation have anything to do with you?’

‘Because there is much we may do to assist one another. Your organisation will benefit enormously from our help, as you must realise.’

I did, of course. I have already discussed the many problems we have faced, particularly our lack of suitable tutors. ‘And how will it benefit you? I am nowhere near naive enough to imagine you would assist us out of the goodness of your hearts.’

He smiled. ‘All this shall be discussed, if you will come with me.’

I did not trust him, of course, but what could I do? I needed to hear whatever he had to say, even if I knew he would lie and dissemble all the way through it.

‘Archivere Dalsy comes along with us,’ I said.

‘May I ask why?’

‘Because he is not Archivere Dalsy at all. That’s my husband and I want him with me.’

That earned me a narrow, somewhat displeased look, which only exasperated me further.

‘What? If you treat us with deceitfulness, expect the same in return. I had to get your attention somehow, as you had apparently decided against approaching my organisation openly.’

He sighed, and his lips tightened with annoyance. Oddly, I did not receive the impression that it was directed at me, and I wondered what troubled him.

It was soon gone, and replaced by… calculation. ‘Tren Warvel,’ he said.

‘Yes.’

‘A sorcerer?’

That made me wary. ‘Yes.’

‘One of the best, I understand.’

I did not like the direction his thoughts were tending in, at all. ‘Let him out, please.’

Hyarn smiled radiantly, and bowed. ‘By all means.’

Oh, dear.

‘Hello, darling,’ I said when Tren joined us moments later. ‘You can take off the wig.’

Tren did so with obvious relief, and I did not blame him. Those things are mighty uncomfortable, so I hear. ‘I take it the game is up?’

‘Or rather, abandoned,’ I replied. ‘I have been trying to explain to Hyarn that his typical Lokant attitude of deceit first, dissimulation afterwards and a healthy pack of lies in between is somewhat counter-productive.’

Tren’s eyebrows rose. ‘Any luck with that?’

‘Not a great deal.’

Hyarn had the grace to look faintly embarrassed. ‘May I suggest we proceed?’

Tren took my arm, with perhaps a hint of protectiveness. ‘Lead on,’ he invited, but without his customary smile.

Once outside of our various prisons, Hyarn simply translocated us to another part of the Library. I surreptitiously checked the Map, afterwards, but it availed me little: we were near nothing that I recognised.

He led us into a spacious room, handsomely fitted up with wood and crystal and enlivened with more colour than was customary. It was a pleasant room, and since my approving nose detected the aroma of cayluch the moment we arrived, I was immediately rendered more comfortable.