CHAPTER TEN
After several days—and several nasty encounters with denizens of the Library and its environs—Nefnet announced that she was ready to treat Grunwold.
“I’ll admit,” she said, “my work was considerably accelerated by being able to draw on the full resources of the Library, rather than the limited portion that would have been available to me before. Since I was only a junior researcher, I had no idea what a wealth of knowledge was stored here. Even after the destruction, so much remains!”
Xerak nodded agreement. “I am coming to understand why my master mourned the loss so deeply.”
Vereez was more impatient than Grunwold to move matters along.
Is it because she’s coming to care for him? Teg thought. Or is it because until we speak with Grunwold’s father, we can’t move on to the next phase of our project?
When Nefnet had assembled her medications, Xerak assisted her in creating mingled magical and medical procedures that should not only cure Grunwold, but should enable his body to manufacture the materials that would be at the center of Konnel’s treatment. Vereez acted as a sort of surgical nurse, handing over appropriate tools, tinctures, and decoctions as requested. The three humans supervised.
Though there’s not much we can do if Nefnet opts for treachery, Teg thought. Still, she doesn’t know that. And who knows what Sapphire Wind might be able to detect? I think the Wind would tell Meg if it thought something hinky was going on. I’m still not certain whether Nefnet even wants the Library repaired—given the way she was eyeing some of the books and artifacts, she might prefer to scavenge for herself. But Sapphire Wind’s goals and ours run in harness—at least for now.
“Grunwold will sleep at least until dawn,” Nefnet said, when the last stage of his treatment had been completed. “Every turn of the large sandglass, both his joints and the numb areas should be rubbed with the blue concoction. Every turn of the small glass, someone will need to open his mouth and rub this orange unguent on his gums and tongue.”
She was rocking with fatigue as she spoke. Xerak was yawning so prodigiously that Teg found herself inspecting his fangs with new respect.
“We won’t forget,” Peg said, accepting the varied jars. “Compared to some of the illnesses I’ve had to deal with, this will be easy. I remember when my Tabitha had the chicken pox . . . ”
She rattled on, telling a prosaic tale of cornmeal baths and mittens, even as she hustled Nefnet and Xerak to their respective sleeping places. Vereez settled herself near Grunwold’s head, where she could see both sandglasses.
“I’ll take first watch,” she said. “I used so little magic that I’m wired from the mana I pulled up in case I needed it. It will take time to ebb. If you three want to look around, this would be a good time.”
“I’ll stay here”—Meg indicated the information desk—“and read.”
“I wouldn’t mind poking around a bit more,” Teg admitted sheepishly, “but I’ll stay here in the reception hall. There’s plenty to look at.”
She’d been working her way up through the various sage’s stations. Since on the day of the catastrophe the sages had retired for the evening and had locked away their materials, much remained intact. Teg had to keep reminding herself that, despite the years that had passed, if all went well, the owners would be returning. She supposed that she would need to return the sun spider amulet as well, but since no one had suggested she do so, she would wait until Sapphire Wind was able to awaken its owner.
Grunwold’s recovery took an additional three days, but once she was certain that the numbness was indeed retreating, Nefnet pronounced him cured.
“I suggest you let me check you over whenever you return here,” she said, “just to be certain. Indeed, it might be wise if we arranged for you to come and see me once a year—sooner if any of the symptoms return.”
Grunwold looked more relieved than annoyed at her suggestion. “I will.” He reached up and rubbed one of his antler tips. “And my father? Can I take medication to him?”
Nefnet drew in a deep breath. “Although a part of me has no desire to see Konnel, I would prefer he came here for treatment. Your care was relatively easy. His will be more difficult. I have samples of your blood, hair, spittle, and feces so I can begin to create medication for him, but the medication will work better if I can inject some deeply into muscle groups.”
“And if he won’t come?” Grunwold said.
“If Konnel cannot face one of those who he wronged,” Nefnet replied without pity, “then he has not earned treatment.”
When Grunwold looked as if he might argue further, Vereez turned on him. “Don’t! Just don’t! You have your cure and hope for your father. Xerak and me, we’re still waiting. Besides, I hate to say it, but the possibility of a cure gives us leverage.”
Grunwold bent his head as if he’d planned to go for her with his antlers, but Vereez grabbed him under the chin and forced his head up.
“Idiot! I’m not saying you should withhold the cure. I’m saying that you can open the discussion of past events in, well, a positive way. Show you came here to find a treatment for him. Neither Xerak or I have that option. If we try to get information from our parents, there’ll always be the underlying element that we’re threatening exposure if they don’t comply.”
Teg remembered that Vereez had already confided her willingness to threaten her parents if needed, and admired the young woman’s cunning.
Grunwold pushed her hand away, but didn’t resume his attack stance.
“I’m sorry Vereez, Xerak . . . You’re right. I’m stalling. I’m not looking forward to this heart to heart with my dad, but it can’t be avoided. Sapphire Wind needs a second piece of that artifact, and it’s likely that my father has some idea where it is. We can set sail as soon as Slicewind is readied.”
“Then we can go as soon as we get to the ship,” Peg said cheerfully. “While you’ve been recovering from Nefnet’s treatments, we’ve been filling the water casks and laying in fresh supplies.”
Grunwold looked astonished. “Where did you get supplies?”
Xerak shrugged. “The gardens had some good foraging, and we set snares. Peg’s been cooking steadily.”
Peg smiled. “And I’ve set aside some food to leave for Nefnet-va as well.”
The researcher wrinkled her nose in a smile. “Thank you. In reviewing the artifacts in the repository, I located some that provide nourishment. Magical food may sustain the body, but is not usually very tasty.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Teg asked. “Emsehu and maybe Sapphire Wind will be some company, but I’d think you’ll get lonely.”
Nefnet shook her head. “I have been suspended for decades. Many of the older people I knew and loved will have died. Those who still live believe me dead and have had a long time to mourn me. I need time to adjust, to consider how I will deal with this.”
“That reminds me,” Vereez said, “we have one piece of unfinished business. Sapphire Wind said that when it had one piece of the artifact, Ba Djed of the Weaver, it could use it to divine where the others might be. Well?”
For lack of someone to look at, she looked at Meg. As if preparing for a long discussion, Meg carefully seated herself. Then, between one breath and the next, Sapphire Wind spoke.
“I had not forgotten my claim. I will admit to an unwillingness to confess to failure.”
“Then you can’t find it?” Vereez’s tone was heavy with disbelief. “I thought you wanted the thing.”
“I do. However, I cannot pinpoint its location. I am only certain that it has not been completely destroyed. If it had been, I think the piece we have would have lost its virtue.”
“Maybe we should take the one piece we’ve found with us,” Vereez suggested. “Maybe if we were closer, it would move like a compass needle, point the right direction.”
Meg’s face went blank and she grew very still. Then right about the point where Teg was going to start checking her vital signs, Sapphire Wind spoke.
“I am reluctant to let the Spindle out of my care, but you may be right. Even if you learn who took the rest, they might deny the truth if you lack evidence. Then where would you be? Xerak, do you know spells for seeking?”
Xerak looked grim. “I absolutely do. Over this last year, I’ve become a specialist. You might say I’ve done a crash course in them.”
“Then take the Spindle, but be careful. Its aura is very potent. If you handle it over much, you may suffer unpleasant consequences.”
Nefnet opened her mouth as if she might protest, then closed it. Again, Teg felt a flicker of distrust for the wizard. What did Nefnet intend to do, alone here among this wealth of magical resources? Teg wished she could warn Sapphire Wind to be careful, but would it even listen? After all, Nefnet belonged to the library. Teg and her friends did not.
They said their goodbyes soon after, and hiked back to Slicewind, escorted by Emsehu, whose presence assured that any local horrors would keep a good distance.
As they were tramping along, Grunwold said, “Just when I start fooling myself that what our parents did wasn’t all that terrible—that Sapphire Wind’s intervention saved the day by ‘archiving’ all those people—I get a sharp kick under my tail. I hadn’t thought about what Nefnet-va and all the others will face after they’re unarchived. Even those who were lucky enough to have their families with them, still . . . ”
“I know,” Vereez said. “Every one of them will know someone who has died and maybe even been reborn. Over twenty-five years is a long time.”
“More than we’ve been alive,” Xerak said morosely.
“Please!” Meg interjected tartly. “Introspection is useful only to the point that it grants perspective. The three of us came to help you inquisitors to find answers to the problems that have held you back. We have managed to possibly find a cure for Konnel, but the price for that—as well as for using the Library’s resources to solve the others—is that we have acquired two additional problems to solve. We have a great deal to do, and cannot spare energy for self-indulgence.”
“Arrgh, maties,” Peg said in a theatrical pirate accent. “Hoist the sails and pull in the gangplank. We’ve some fast sailing to do.”
The winds were with them, and they didn’t make any stops on the way back, enabling Slicewind to cover the distance back to Grunwold’s family estate at a speed that rendered the forests and waters beneath into an impressionistic blur. Nonetheless, the journey seemed to go on forever. Grunwold was edgy, which he covered by being grumpy—or rather, grumpier than usual. Vereez was doing a poor job of hiding her excitement, while Xerak had begun to fret about the fate of his master. That meant he started drinking more heavily again, something he’d backed off on after they had landed near the library and he had his first brush with the spike wolves.
More than once, Teg contemplated using her bracelet to return to her apartment and check on Thought and Memory, but she knew that she’d be running away, and that didn’t seem fair. It didn’t help her resolve to stay aboard that she was running low on the pipe weed (as Peg had dubbed it in honor of hobbits) that Xerak had bought her when he’d bought her the pipe. No one—human or inquisitor—liked her cigarettes.
Grunwold had spent the entire voyage agonizing what time of day would be best to arrive at KonSef Estate, vacillating between sneaking in and making a bold return. In the end, he opted for the bold return, not because he felt any braver, but because the weather was turning nasty, and he didn’t want to risk Slicewind.
“We may not be able to keep using her,” he kept reminding them. “Slicewind is my parents’ ship, not mine.”
Another debate had been about whether or not to tell Grunwold’s parents the truth about the humans. The humans put an end to this as soon as they realized the matter was being discussed.
“We’re going in,” Peg said. “We’re your best proof to your parents that you’ve done something big.”
“And we are your mentors,” Meg added. “We must be present to provide support and advice, or we are not living up to our responsibilities.”
On a stormy midmorning, Grunwold brought Slicewind down on the broad paved plaza in front of his parents’ sprawling manse. The humans had conceded to the inquisitors’ request that they wear their disguises.
“I’d never tell the kids,” Peg said, settling her pronghorn antelope mask in place, “but I actually am glad to have something to hide behind. I’m more nervous about this than I was when I had a chance to sing at the Monterey Pop Festival.”
“You never did,” Teg protested, taking a final drag on her cigarette before putting on her mask. “I don’t remember seeing you on any of the videos.”
“I said I had a chance,” Peg replied tartly. “I didn’t say I took it.”
Meg poked her badger-masked face around the door of their cabin. “Hurry. The inquisitors are debarking. Grunwold’s mother just came out of the house.”
Predictably, Grunwold hadn’t been home five minutes and he was already involved in an argument. This time he wasn’t the only one doing the yelling. A matronly woman with the head of a camel was in the midst of a full-scale rant.
“. . . and then, knowing full well how ill your father was, you not only left home, you stole Slicewind, then lured Xerak and Vereez off . . . ”
Vereez tried to interrupt, probably to say she didn’t need to be lured anywhere, but the camel-woman—presumably Grunwold’s mother—didn’t pause.
“. . . to whatever madcap hijinks. I don’t want to imagine what you’ve been up to . . . ”
She took a deep breath and Grunwold managed to get a few words in.
“Finding medicine for Dad.”
“. . . but no doubt it will bring scandal.” She stopped and took a ragged breath. “What?”
“While the rest of you were content to sit around and let him die,” Grunwold began, his voice rising, “I went seeking a cure.”
This raised a murmur through the crowd that had gathered. Teg still had some trouble reading expressions on the animal faces, but ears were another matter, and she thought that what she was seeing was positive. Whatever he’d done in the past, Konnel was popular with those who lived and worked on his estate.
Grunwold lowered his voice. “It’s a complex matter. If you’re done humiliating me, Mother, perhaps we could go inside.”
Grunwold’s mother put out a hand and touched her son lightly on one cheek. Now that she wasn’t yelling, Teg could tell she was quite lovely, with huge dark eyes and amazing eyelashes.
“I . . . I . . . Yes. Come inside. Your friends, too.” She stopped, noticing Meg, Peg, and Teg for the first time, taking in their masks. “I know Xerak and Vereez, of course, but these are?”
“Part of my story,” Grunwold said firmly. “Meg, Peg, and Teg, this is my mother, Sefit. Mother, these are our mentors—how we acquired them is a long story.”
Sefit looked dazed. “Yes. I imagine so. Let us go inside.”
Grunwold scanned the crowd and singled out a pair of burly farmhands—only as an afterthought did Teg note one had the head of a wildebeest, the other of a beaver. “Abeh, Tenneh, get Slicewind under cover before this storm hits. I’m leaving Heru with the ship, so don’t get too curious about our cargo. Got it?”
“Absolutely, young master.”
Grunwold managed a tight smile. “Thanks, guys. I’ll remember.” Then he turned to Sefit. “Mother, after you . . . ”
The room to which the mistress of the estate took them was in a tower that commanded a good view of the surrounding grounds. It also, Teg realized, was relatively secure from eavesdroppers. A desk heaped with paperwork stood near one window. A long conference table surrounded by ornately carved chairs dominated the center of the room.
By the time Sefit took a seat at the table’s head, she had clearly regained much of her bad mood. “Sit down, all of you.” Then she turned to Grunwold, who had placed himself at her right. “So you went seeking a cure for Konnel. I notice you didn’t say you’d found one. If you came up with that just so . . . ”
“I didn’t,” Grunwold cut her off. “I didn’t find a cure, but I did find a possible treatment. Much will depend on Father. Or, if he’s not able to make decisions, then on you.”
“Tell me first,” Sefit said, “and I’ll judge if Konnel is well enough to see you.”
For a wonder, Grunwold didn’t argue. Instead, he launched into his tale, beginning with the visit to Hettua Shrine. This, in turn, necessitated Meg, Peg, and Teg unmasking. Teg thought it was some measure of how worried Sefit was about her husband that, after she accepted the humans’ reality, she did not ask further questions, but pressed Grunwold to continue.
He made short work of their journey and the difficulties involved in finding an entrance to the Library. Only when he came to the point where Sapphire Wind insisted they view the vision in the Font of Sight, did he slow.
“Mother, how much do you know about Dad’s past?”
Sefit’s wide camel lips pursed in what was clearly a frown. “Not enough. He told me he was ashamed of much of what he had done, said he’d rather die than have the truth be known.”
Grunwold winced. “That may be what he’s been doing—I mean, why he hasn’t tried harder to seek a cure. So, I’ll give you a choice. I can tell you what we learned from the Font of Sight, or move to what we learned in the end.”
Sefit closed her eyes, clearly torn. When she finally spoke, her voice was much gentler than it had been. “I told him I was willing to live with his secret. I can’t violate that now. Tell me what you can about the treatment without mentioning his past.”
Teg was impressed. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stop from prying. Prying, after all, was what she did for a living. Grunwold reached out and squeezed his mother’s hand, the first affectionate gesture between them since his return home. Then he launched into his tale again, explaining how Sapphire Wind had told them it needed magical energy in order to awaken a specialist. He skipped over their heroics, and moved directly to Nefnet’s diagnosis.
When he mentioned that he, himself, was in the early stages of the malady that was killing his father, Sefit was shocked. “You never mentioned that! Why?”
“Maybe because I saw no one looking for a cure,” Grunwold said. “Maybe because . . . ”
Sefit spat—literally, like a camel, although unlike a camel, she targeted a tidy metal spittoon. “You didn’t go looking to help Konnel! You selfish little, lying . . . ”
That was too much for Peg. She’d been sitting quietly knitting, only the rapid clicking letting on how upset she was getting.
“You stop it!” she yelled, getting to her feet so fast that she knocked her chair over. “No wonder Grunwold kept saying that he wasn’t looking for the cure for himself, that he honestly wanted it for his father. He knew you’d accuse him. And why? Does attacking your courageous son make you feel better about how you’ve sat around for the last couple of decades letting your husband die by inches because he’s afraid of exposing his past?”
Sefit pulled her lips back from large, yellowish teeth. “Are you saying that . . . ”
Peg leaned forward on her hands so that she was nearly nose to nose with Sefit. “Yes! Damn it, I am! I’m saying that for all your shouting and yelling, you’re more afraid of learning the truth about Konnel and what that might do to your cozy life than you are of his dying. I’m saying you’re a selfish, self-centered, egotistical . . . ”
“Whoa,” Teg said, getting to her feet and grabbing Peg, who looked as if she was about to take Sefit by the shoulders and shake her. “You’ve made your point. Don’t make matters worse.”
Peg remained tense, but she let Teg pull her back. When a wide-eyed Xerak righted her chair, she resumed her seat and even took up her knitting, although she didn’t begin moving her needles until Sefit also sat. Stunned silence reigned until Grunwold broke it.
“Honestly, Mother. I went looking because I wanted to find a cure for him—not for any other reason. I knew I had years. You and Dad did a good job hiding how seriously ill he was but, once you had to tell us, well, it was easy to look back and see past events in a new light. Like how Dad stopped going without a shirt, or when he started to supervise, rather than doing work himself. Even my being sent away to school . . . That made sense in a way it hadn’t before. I realized that whatever this illness was or is, it progresses relatively slowly.”
Sefit nodded. “I’m sorry.” She turned to Peg. “Maybe you’re right. About my feeling guilty, that is. I reserve the right to disagree about the rest. I did argue with Konnel, try to get him to see healers, but he always refused. So I tried to make sure that nothing else would make him sick, because I wasn’t certain how far his stubbornness would go.”
“Now,” Grunwold said, “let me finish telling you what we’ve discovered.”
He did, concluding with how Nefnet had been able to heal him and how she was, even now, compounding medications that should slow the progress of the disease in Konnel, even reverse some of the worst of the later symptoms.
“But Nefnet-va insists he come to her, which is why I didn’t wait and bring the medication with me.”
“Why . . . ” Sefit trailed off. “That has to do with your father’s secret, doesn’t it?”
“It does.”
“You’d better see him, then.”
She rose and motioned for Grunwold to come with her, but he shook his head.
“All of us or none. They already know the worst, and I want them to hear what Dad has to say firsthand, so they don’t think I’m holding anything back.”
Sefit sighed, but she didn’t argue. “Fine. All of you wait here. Konnel is going to insist on at least sitting up in bed, and getting him ready will take a while. I’ll brief him while I do what’s necessary. At the very least, he should be prepared in advance for your strange new friends.”
After Sefit had departed, Grunwold looked at Peg with something between astonishment and gratitude. “I’m not sure if I should thank you or ask if all this is too much for you. I thought that Meg was the wise one, Teg was the nosey one, and you were the funny one, but you’ve snapped a few times recently.”
“I am the funny one,” Peg replied complacently, “until I get pissed off. Then I’m the mean one.”
“I’ll remember that,” he said with sincerity. “Listen, all of you. Take it easy on my dad, okay? Whatever you think about him or what he did, he’s dying.”
“I second Grunwold’s request,” Meg said, “for absolutely unsentimental reasons. Konnel has held his secret even from his wife and, despite how meek she acts when speaking of him, I would say she spent a good many years trying to get it out of him. This is not a man who can be browbeaten. He must be convinced to help us.”
When they were summoned to Konnel’s room, Sefit met them on her way out.
“I have repeated to him what you told me,” she said. “I told him that this was not the time for long confessions. He can decide what he wants to tell me—including nothing at all—after he’s spoken with you.”
She paused, then gave Grunwold a tight hug. “Good luck!”
Konnel little resembled the handsome stag warrior whose exploits they had seen in the Font. He shook, even when sitting—as he was now—wedged into his chair by pillows. He was gaunt, probably, Teg thought, from dehydration and malnutrition, as much as from his malady. Getting food into him wouldn’t be easy. He’d spill much of what was put into his mouth, and she doubted he could risk chewing anything too solid, so much of what he ate would be soft. His coat, once a rich reddish brown, slightly darker than Grunwold’s, was dull and patchy.
But his large brown eyes were still alert and commanding and his voice, when he spoke, had surprising force, even though his intonations were weak and every word quavered.
After they were seated in a half circle of chairs, positioned so that Konnel could see them all without more than minimal movements of his head, Grunwold handled introductions. Then, taking a deep breath, he went on.
“So, Dad, Mother said she told you what we’ve done, where we’ve been.”
“And so you know,” Konnel said softly, “about my less than illustrious past, about how what we did led to the destruction of the Library of the Sapphire Wind. What would you think if I told you that even what happened that day was not enough to cause us to retire?”
“I’d believe it,” Vereez said. “Because my parents are stubborn, and they wouldn’t want to admit something had scared them into quitting.”
“Did you already know about their past then?” Konnel asked.
“Not a bit. They may have quit stealing—or at least turned to finance—but that doesn’t mean they changed completely.”
“Xerak?”
“Not even a little,” Xerak said. “Although as I grew older I did wonder if my parents’ antiques business sometimes turned a blind eye to where things might have come from. But if I considered why, I thought they were naïve about the more sordid side of the world. More fool I.”
“I wondered,” Konnel said, “because we’d all sworn not to say a word, not even to our nearest and dearest. You see, among those we killed . . . ”
Grunwold started to interrupt, but Konnel stopped him with a raised hand.
“. . . were specialists in many arcane arts. After the Library of the Sapphire Wind was destroyed, their friends, students, families all swore vengeance. Silence was our only protection—that and the fact that the area was so horribly disrupted that no one successfully penetrated into the ruins for many years. Only in the last few years have any made claims I might have believed, but none until you got inside.”
“We had help,” Grunwold said. Teg could tell his usually twisted sense of humor was coming back. “Dad, I want you to stay quiet and listen while I tell you what happened. You might say I have some good news and some bad news.”
By the time Grunwold—assisted here and there by the others—had finished his narrative, Konnel’s eyes were bright with unshed tears.
“All these years,” he said, “I have believed myself guilty of mass murder. I don’t care that those we wronged may yet come for vengeance. Maybe I’ll be afraid later, but for now all I feel is gratitude.”
“Grateful enough to help us?” Vereez asked bluntly. “Sapphire Wind says it will help me and Xerak with our searches, but that it cannot without the remaining pieces of Ba Djed of the Weaver. Can you give us a lead?”
Xerak added helpfully, “The vision showed my mother turning and grabbing what looked very much like a piece of the artifact. Did she? Does she still have it?”
“She did, and I do not know.” Konnel held up a hand. “Bear with me. It is my turn to tell a tale. I am not as fragile as Sefit believes, but talking at length can be an ordeal.”
“Should I ring for some refreshments? Medicine?” Grunwold asked.
“Some spiced taga tea for me,” Konnel said. “Order whatever your friends would like as well.”
Grunwold departed to place the order, and Konnel turned his attention to the three humans. “I would very much like to know more about you but, sadly, that will need to wait. Someday perhaps, I can invite you for a long visit. However, I can thank you for helping right wrongs you had no part in creating.”
Peg patted him on one blanket-covered knee. “It’s been our pleasure. Really. Not all the bits, I’ll admit. Some of the creatures here are more terrifying than I ever expected to meet, especially at my time of life, but on the whole . . . ”
Meg nodded. “Yes, I definitely prefer this to retirement.”
Grunwold returned then, pushing the refreshments cart, sparing Teg from finding something to say that wouldn’t sound trite. She didn’t have a lot of experience dealing with terminally ill people—especially ones who, as best as she could figure, were about her own age. The realization was sobering and unsettling both.
As his son poured him a cup of taga tea, the scent of which evoked citrus and spice—something like lemon and ginger, if the lemon had the bite of grapefruit and the ginger just a hint of catnip—Konnel began his tale.
“I believe you said that Sapphire Wind referred to us as ‘extraction agents.’ We never used that term, but if we had thought of it, we certainly would have. Certainly, that’s how we thought of ourselves—not as mere thieves or burglars. We were all in college together, although not all in the same year. I think our first ‘extraction’ was when Ohent wanted to take back a gift she’d given to a fellow who dumped her shortly after—and who didn’t have the good manners to return the present.
“It was a great deal of fun, not just the removal itself, but the planning, the practicing. Our plan called for several of us to climb up a rope, but that’s not as easy as it sounds. We messed about for days, but in the end every one of us could scurry up and down like sun spiders.”
He paused, took a deep draught of his tea, and sighed, his gaze on a long-ago self, far distant from the man who—although he strove to hide it—was having difficulty lifting his cup.
“Later, there were pranks. Then Inehem did poorly on an exam. She was certain the instructor was punishing her for ignoring his flirtations. He never returned tests, to eliminate the risk of the questions being shared with other students. She couldn’t do anything about that particular test, but she was permitted a retest. We stole it in advance and when he told her that once again she had failed, she claimed to have memorized many of the questions during the test and that her answers had been correct. Of course, she had memorized them, simply not during the test. She threatened to take him to his department head. He backed down.
“That was our first taste of power. It would not be our last. In fact, ‘removals’—as we began to call our exploits—began to shape what we studied. Inehem had been uncertain about her studies of magic. She was sincerely interested in finance as well. Now she buckled down. Zarrq, aware how vulnerable magic left a person, devoted himself to being her protector. Fardowsi continued her formal history and art studies, but she began to practice lock picking and related skills in her spare time.
“I had no gift for magic, but muscle, fighting skills, and a wide range of purely practical skills, such as sailing, driving a team, and the like became necessary as our jobs became more complex. Ohent learned a few magical tricks, but—like me—she became a weapons specialist and generalist. We all finished college with at least reasonable grades, and with loaded bank accounts about which our parents knew nothing. Zarrq and Inehem made some shrewd investments from the start. If we’d had a way to explain our little fortunes, we could have taken it easy.”
Vereez laughed. “As if you would have. I never wanted to be the little socialite my parents had me set up to be, but I didn’t know what else there was. One thing this trip has taught me is that I am my parents’ daughter in at least one way. I like the excitement, the challenge, the not knowing what tomorrow will bring.”
“So,” Teg said, seeing that Konnel was beginning to look tired now that the pleasure of memory—and possibly of telling about exploits he’d had to keep secret for decades—was no longer sustaining him. “Shall we take it as read that no matter what jobs all of you were officially doing after graduation, ‘removals’ were your actual jobs?”
Konnel nodded gratefully. “I will say this for us. We did try to choose removals that wouldn’t leave us hating ourselves. I will admit, though, that line became greyer and greyer as time went on. When we were approached by the man who proposed the Sapphire Wind job to us, we accepted his justification without doing much checking. The challenge was what excited us.
“He told us how when his father had died, his stepmother had sold off personal items that had been promised to his children. Our client had only been a child at the time but, when he became an adult, he had traced some of these items to the artifacts repository of the Library of the Sapphire Wind.
“He claimed that he had attempted to purchase these artifacts back from the library, but had been turned away. Later, he himself had worked at the Library for a time, but had failed to find a way to extract the items he desired. Therefore, he had inside knowledge, but he needed the help of professionals. That’s how we acquired the pendants that would enable us to be seen by the Library’s guardians as members of the staff. He also gave us detailed maps, and told us what he could of the usual routine.
“We laid our plans carefully. Each of us visited the Library separately, so we would be familiar with the building from more than maps. We set the date for the retrieval for over a holiday, when many of the residents would be away, but the Library would still be open. We planned for every contingency we could and trusted to our long-time teamwork for the rest. When the time came, we did very well, until, suddenly, everything went wrong all at once.”
Peg asked so conversationally that there was no way to take offense, “You didn’t start wondering when the final item your client wanted you to take was so carefully locked away?”
“Wondering? No. Not really. For all we knew, there were dozens of those small, high security repositories. If anything, that last bit made his story about having been refused the opportunity to repurchase the items more believable. The items in the pigeonholes weren’t exactly common, but they were the sort the Library regularly let researchers use or even loaned out. If this was a unique item, though . . . ”
Xerak, who had been listening with his eyes closed, so still that if you didn’t know him you’d think he was dozing, asked, “What happened afterward? Did you all get away? We recognized our parents, but not the snow leopard woman. Is that Ohent? She didn’t . . . ”
“Die? No. As far as I know, Ohent is still alive. What happened immediately after was that we got ourselves out of there. We’d arranged a fast transport and, even as the earthquake was spreading, we were already gone. Then we reported to our client that we’d succeeded—but only partially. We handed over the pigeonhole items he’d requested, returned the Library talismans to him, and accepted a partial fee with good grace. We’d walked out of the Library with a good many negotiable items, so we knew we’d make up our expenses and even turn a profit.
“The one thing we didn’t hand over was the fragment of that last artifact. Fardowsi hadn’t told us yet that she had it. Inehem knew—she’d sensed it—but they both decided to keep quiet about it. I think Inehem, in particular, was beginning to wonder if we’d been told a tale seeded with just enough truth to make it work.
“It took a few days for news of what had happened at the Library to get out. As you saw yourselves, it’s in an isolated area and wasn’t exactly a tourist destination.”
Teg saw Vereez beginning to fidget, so she anticipated her question. “And what happened to the fragment Xerak’s mother took? Does she still have it?”
“I don’t think so.”
Konnel must have caught Vereez’s impatient motion, although she quickly stilled it, for he held up his hand.
“It’s complicated. Fardowsi loaned the artifact—a small bronze bird—to Inehem, in the hope Inehem could learn something about its nature. By now we suspected that the artifact it had been part of, and that alone, had been our client’s goal. He knew he couldn’t handle the protections set on it, and hired us. Inehem learned little, except to confirm that the artifact had not been ruined, but that without the rest, the Bird was incomplete. She returned the Bird to Fardowsi. Not too long after, Fardowsi began to have terrible nightmares which she blamed on the Bird. We scoffed.
“I’ll admit, I was the worst scoffer. I didn’t notice how quiet Zarrq and Inehem were on the subject. I offered to take custody of the Bird. In time, I had nightmares so similar to those Fardowsi had experienced that Ohent said I was unstable, that what Fardowsi had said had influenced me. But when Ohent took custody and she, too, began to experience similar nightmares, well . . . We knew we had to take precautions.”
“Couldn’t you just lock the Bird up,” Xerak asked. “in an enshrouding container, like the one you found there in the repository?”
“We did and that helped,” Konnel replied. “But only for a time. The enshrouding container acted as a mute but within a few weeks, whoever was acting as custodian would begin to have nightmares. Eventually, Ohent offered to become fulltime custodian. She’d fallen on hard times—had never been a saver like the rest of us. Or, I’ll be honest, as inclined to work hard. So we all contributed to a trust fund that Vereez’s parents administer.”
“You trusted this Ohent not to sell the Bird? Or just throw it away?” Peg asked.
“We did,” Konnel said. “As far as I know, Ohent has kept her part of the bargain.”
“Going back to an earlier point,” Meg asked. “what did you tell your client? I would think your relationship with him would be an uneasy one. After all, he might resent your destroying what he viewed as his heritage, yet he actually gave you partial payment.”
“That we could prove he sent us in to steal gave us some protection.” Konnel shrugged, the stiff motion an inadvertent parody of his son’s familiar gesture. “Nonetheless, we were aware he was a potential threat, so we kept track of him until his . . . death.”
There was something in the way Konnel said the word that made them all look at him.
“Death?” Teg asked.
“Presumed death,” Konnel amended. “Our client kept returning to the Library, even after it was nothing more than increasingly dangerous ruins. He put together several expeditions that came back in tatters. Then one came back without him. They said he’d been killed, and they’d fled. Even if he reincarnated immediately, which we didn’t think likely, it would be decades before he’d be any sort of threat. He might not retain his memories, making him even less of a threat. Basically, we considered ourselves safe from him.”
“Well, that’s useful to know,” Meg said with a firmness that made clear she didn’t think now was the time to discuss Emsehu’s actual fate. “Let us return to what we need to do next.”
“It sounds as if we need to find Ohent,” Vereez said, “and ask her to give us the Bird portion of Ba Djed that she has in her custody. Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” Konnel said. “But your parents should, since they send Ohent her stipend.”
“Will Ohent just hand the Bird over?” Xerak asked. “Shouldn’t we have some sort of document saying it’s all right with the rest of you?”
Konnel nodded. “That would probably be a good idea. Writing is difficult for me, but if you compose an appropriate document, I’ll sign it and add my seal.”
Vereez looked satisfied. “Since we’re stopping in Rivers Meet to see my parents, we can get a similar letter from them, and from Fardowsi-toh. I saw pens and paper in the conference room. Let me go and rough something out for you to approve, then I’ll write it fine and you can sign it.”
As she hurried out, Grunwold said, “Dad, I’m sorry I stole Slicewind, but I didn’t feel I could ask permission.”
“With your mother and I planning to ship you to the brickworks, no, probably not.” Konnel looked amused rather than annoyed.
“Do I need to steal it again,” Grunwold asked, “or will you and Mother give me permission to take it?”
Konnel started laughing. “I’m almost tempted to lock Slicewind down and see if you really could steal it from me . . . But that would be stupid. The faster you’re done with these searches, the faster you can get on with your lives. Sefit will argue, but I think I can convince her that you need Slicewind more than we do.”
Xerak’s brow furrowed. “Should we take Slicewind, Konnel-toh? Shouldn’t you travel to the Library as quickly, and easily, as possible?”
“We have another flying ship,” Grunwold cut in indignantly. “Cloud Cleaver. It’s roomier than Slicewind and much more comfortable. Not as fast, though, or as maneuverable.”
“Ah, the life of wealthy plantations owners,” Xerak said. “I’ve lost count of the boots I’ve worn through in my journeys. I should have come here sooner.”
“That’s right,” Konnel said. “I heard something about those journeys from your mother.”
He would have likely asked more, but Vereez came trotting in. “Here’s a draft, Konnel-toh.”
Konnel read it, then smiled slyly. “When you write the signature line, put my full name, then ‘Tam.’ That’s what I went by in those days. I dropped the nickname when I decided to become respectable. That will make Ohent certain it comes from me—and will reassure the others as well that it’s not some clever forgery.”
“So that’s why you didn’t like us to use your middle name,” Grunwold said. “It was too close to the name you were leaving behind.”
“That’s right. Now, despite Vereez’s eagerness, there is no way you’re leaving today. The weather is horrible. Moreover, I will need time to finally confess my past to Sefit. When we are done with that, I—or I expect she—will need a full briefing as to what to expect in the vicinity of the Library ruins: hazards and the like.”
The three inquisitors looked at each other, then Vereez nodded, a bit reluctantly.
Good, Teg thought, that gives us time to decide if we tell him that Emsehu is there, or if we let our Unique Monstrosity reveal his own story if he chooses. I think I favor the latter.
“That makes sense. Shall we leave you and call Sefit-toh?”
Konnel held up a hand, almost managing to hide the tremors. “One more question. Do you want me to send a message to your parents to alert them that you’re coming, and offer my support?”
Vereez considered, then shook her head. “Thank you, but no. Please, think how you would have felt if you knew Grunwold knew about your past and you couldn’t see him right away to learn his reaction.”
“Very well. I will not mention your visit to anyone. Now, if you would call Sefit. Oh, Grunwold, if you don’t mind your mother’s inevitable fit of temper, I’d like you to stay. You’re a grown man now, and it’s time we include you in important conversations.”
And just like that, Teg thought, Grunwold is an adult. He may have claimed that status for himself by his actions, but his father’s acknowledgment means no one will be able to challenge his claim.