Vale stiffened like a hound catching the scent. ‘So Lord Silver is a supporter of chaos itself?’
Irene nodded. ‘This alternate is strongly affected by chaos. Silver is certainly at least one of the lesser Fae, who are usually confined inside a single alternate. I don’t know if he is one of the greater ones, but I sincerely hope not. Such creatures even have the power to move between worlds. But they have nothing to do with the Library.’ She wanted to make this extremely clear. ‘We do not associate with them.’
‘Except when obtaining party invitations,’ Vale said drily.
‘I want that book,’ Irene said flatly. ‘So does he, it seems. And so does Alberich. I need to know who has it. If Silver or Alberich already had it, they wouldn’t be looking for it. Once I have it, Mr Strongrock and I will be out of this alternate and won’t need to bother you again.’
Vale nodded. ‘Very well.’ Again there was the feeling of a confrontation being postponed until he had sufficient ammunition. Perhaps he wanted to bring her to justice as well. Or perhaps he simply wanted to visit the Library. ‘So, tell me,’ he went on, ‘when was the Librarian stationed here murdered, where, and how?’
Irene glanced at Kai. ‘Well, it must have been somewhere between yesterday afternoon and this morning, because we first met him yesterday afternoon when we came through from the Library proper. The entrance is in the British Library,’ she added, a little reluctantly.
‘Really,’ Vale said thoughtfully.
‘And when we came back this morning to speak with him . . .’ Irene trailed off, wishing she didn’t have to go into the next bit. ‘Ah, we have reason to assume that he was dead by that point, possibly for several hours.’
‘Why?’ Vale demanded. ‘You found his body?’
‘We found his skin,’ Irene said. ‘In a jar of vinegar.’
Kai reached across and touched her wrist. She knew that it was inappropriate for her to show weakness, but she found it comforting.
Vale sat back in his chair. ‘I see,’ he said. ‘That must have been a great shock for you, Miss Winters.’
Irene remembered the pungent smell. Her stomach twisted. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It was. I am sorry, I’m afraid I find it difficult to be as detached as I should be.’ He’d been friendly, helpful, kind, just simply nice . . .
‘And you are quite sure that it was your contact?’ Vale prompted.
Irene nodded reluctantly. She hadn’t wanted to admit this bit if she could have avoided it. ‘All Librarians have a mark on their body,’ she said. ‘It looks like a tattoo done in black ink. It cannot be removed.’
Vale was quite clearly considering asking whether he could see hers, but after a moment’s hesitation he nodded. Possibly the fact that she hadn’t offered to show it was hint enough. ‘And – if I may be frank – would the trap that had been set possibly have killed you?’
Irene had been trying to avoid thinking about it. She had plenty of productive ways to occupy her mind besides yet one more way in which she had almost died in the last couple of days. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘If Mr Strongrock had not broken my link to it, it might well have done. It would certainly have incapacitated me and left me helpless. And . . .’ She frowned, her mind sensing something important. ‘Let me think. Alberich would have known I would touch the door, not Mr Strongrock, because only I can access the Library. Even if I survived, he’d know the chaos contamination would prevent me accessing the Library. He’d also be aware that the contamination would only last for a few days.’
Vale nodded. A spark kindled in his eyes. ‘That seems logical,’ he said with more warmth than he had shown at any point previously. ‘Let us theorize that your Alberich—’
‘Hardly my Alberich,’ Irene snapped.
Vale snorted. ‘Alberich, then. Let us theorize that he expected to have completed his plans in a few days, at which point it would no longer matter if you contacted the Library. As he was still around earlier today, with our murder in mind, those plans can’t be completed yet. Especially as he was still trying to get us, or rather you, out of the way.’
‘That seems plausible,’ Kai said, emerging from his moody self-absorption. ‘But, if he doesn’t have the book, and we don’t have the book, and Bradamant doesn’t have the book, and Silver doesn’t have the book – and if the Iron Brotherhood is responsible for the alligators, so still on the offensive, then they don’t have the book . . .’ He shrugged. ‘Who does have the book?’