‘And your conclusions?’ Coppelia said, entirely neutrally.
‘Alberich had a sister,’ Irene said. This was not the time or place to pretend to stupidity. ‘The sister had a child. And Alberich either wants to hide the information, or he’s looking for them, or both. Or perhaps it was just because the book was linked to the fate of that world, and so it could bring Alberich power. The story about the siblings and the child could be pure coincidence. But I don’t think that. And you wouldn’t believe me if I told you I did.’
‘And that’s all you think?’ Coppelia pushed. The dry twist at the corner of her mouth showed tacit agreement with Irene’s last statement.
‘That’s all I can be sure of.’ There was a spike of pain in Irene’s temple, and she raised a bandaged hand to rub at it. ‘I can’t see why Alberich would have gone to so much trouble to find the book, if it had just been some kind of diversionary tactic to distract from some larger plot. And he’d gone to such efforts merely for some scheme relating to that alternate – but hunting the book seemed so very personal to him . . . But if Kai hadn’t been with me, I’d have died.’ She did her best to give Coppelia a reproachful glance. ‘You knew about Kai.’
‘What you can work out in a few days, I have at least a sporting chance of noticing over several years,’ Coppelia said smugly. But there was still that edge of caution behind her eyes. ‘Does he know I’m aware of his nature?’
‘I don’t know,’ Irene said. ‘He knows I know.’
‘Well, clearly,’ Coppelia said. ‘And does he know that you’ll tell me what you know?’
‘He’d find it astonishing if I didn’t,’ Irene said, after a moment’s thought. ‘His views on loyalty are very definite.’ She noticed that Coppelia wasn’t asking whether or not she liked Kai. And seeing that she did, she felt it was best kept to herself. If they were looking for an excuse to assign him elsewhere, which was the last thing she wanted, acknowledging that she was less than objective about him would certainly do it. Which would be bad. So she would avoid subjectivity, or at least being caught at it.
‘Well, he is a dragon.’ Coppelia nodded. ‘Kindly don’t speculate too much to him about how much we already comprehend about him, unless the situation requires it. You’ll know when. For the moment, we’ll have to assume he understands that we know all.’
‘All?’
‘We are the Library,’ Coppelia pointed out. ‘What we don’t know, we research. Now tell me the rest.’
Irene gave a brief, factual report of the details . . . and then there was Alberich. Alberich took up a great deal of the report. Even then, Irene found it not only easier, but essential to her sanity, to be minimalist in her descriptions.
Probably her current urge to grab everyone she met and check that they weren’t Alberich in disguise would eventually go away. She hoped so.
Finally she trailed off. It seemed that they had slipped back into the casual banter of previous assignments. Everything had been simpler then, and arrogance had made it easy for Irene to talk glibly about secrets, about how elder Librarians could use her as a pawn. Now that that had probably happened, it was much less intriguing. It was like a splinter in her mind, which ached when she considered it. ‘Could you have given me more information?’ she finally asked.
‘You were warned about Alberich as soon as we were certain he was within that alternate,’ Coppelia said gently. ‘Before that, you might have been able to complete the mission on the information given. Do you actually feel any safer, with your current knowledge, understanding he suspects that you have it?’
She was about to reply, No, not really, but there was more to the question than that. ‘I feel better able to handle matters now I’ve an idea about what’s going on,’ she said. ‘People having nervous breakdowns due to knowledge that man isn’t meant to know – that happens in horror literature. Not real life.’
‘Yes.’ Coppelia sighed. ‘And yes, I know you prefer crime literature.’
‘Detective stories,’ Irene corrected her.
Coppelia raised an eyebrow. ‘And is there anything else?’
Irene tried to guess her meaning, then gave up. ‘Like what?’
‘This from someone who claims to be an investigator.’
‘But I didn’t ever claim—’ Irene tried to put in.
‘I must say that I think you could have done a better job as an undercover agent.’
‘But it was a very complex scenario, with limited information,’ Irene blurted out. This was like an examination from her nightmares. She could feel herself cringing back against the couch.
‘Oh?’ Coppelia folded her arms in a manner that practically telegraphed stern judgement. ‘Young woman, even though you’re my student, you have overstepped a number of lines on this occasion. You’ve revealed facts about the Library to at least two uninvolved parties.’
Irene decided to just give up.