Ink, Iron, and Glass (Ink, Iron, and Glass #1)

Elsa was stunned at the man’s talent for shifting blame, and it was Faraz who replied, “You tried to burn the Oracle worldbook—an original Jabir ibn Hayyan. And you call yourself a scriptologist.” His voice shook with cold fury. “You are no scriptologist!”

Montaigne turned a sick shade of green at this accusation. His hand dropped to the armrest, as if the pipe were suddenly an unbearable weight. “The men I hired were supposed to take the ibn Hayyan along with Jumi’s worldbook—I thought it would throw Garibaldi off my scent if they were seen stealing from my library. But some idiot dropped the ibn Hayyan in the struggle.”

Privately, Elsa thought it was rather telling that the part Montaigne felt ashamed of was burning the books, when he had no shame over encouraging and facilitating Jumi’s abduction. Even now, the Veldanese had little value to him beyond the scriptological accomplishment they symbolized—they were never going to be fully human in his eyes.

Which meant no argument about Jumi’s welfare would sway him. Elsa’s throat felt tight with desperation. “You cannot right one wrong by committing another. I need the book!”

Faraz stepped forward. “This is getting us nowhere.” He tossed a small glass vial at Montaigne, which broke on impact, spreading a bluish ooze all over his shirt and up his neck.

Montaigne said, “Ugh, what is this foul—” And then he went, quite suddenly, as limp as a sleeping babe.

“Excellent,” Faraz said, satisfied with the results. Perched on his shoulder, Skandar raised a few tentacles in glee, as if this were all a show Faraz had performed for the creature’s enjoyment.

Leo stared down at Montaigne, curious but unperturbed. “What did you do to him?”

“When I heard about the sleeping gas from Elsa, I figured we could use some of our own. Don’t touch it—the active ingredient absorbs through the skin. Not such a widespread effect as gas, of course, but better for close-contact situations, I thought. He’ll be out cold for a few hours at least.”

“Huh.” Leo looked from Montaigne’s motionless form to Faraz’s attempt at an innocent expression. “Then I suppose I won’t need this for anything,” he said, resting a hand on the hilt of his rapier.

“I wish you hadn’t done that,” Elsa said to Faraz. “I still have questions.”

“He wasn’t going to tell us anything useful,” said Faraz, though he looked abashed. Faraz was the last one she’d expected to act hastily out of anger instead of cool logic. He slipped out of the room to check the rest of the flat.

Elsa stared at Montaigne’s slack expression. Did he know whether or not the Veldana worldbook had survived the fire? Did he even care?

She sighed. “What are we supposed to do with him now? If he were Veldanese, we’d send him into the Edgemist for this betrayal.” But she could not even guess whether or not Veldana still existed.

“We can turn him over to the Order,” said Porzia. “But only after we find the book.”

Elsa knelt, careful to avoid Faraz’s sleeping ooze, and examined Montaigne’s right hand. “There’s ink on his fingers. Still damp. He’s been scribing.”

Porzia folded her arms. “If I were trying to hide something important, I’d hide it inside a worldbook.”

Elsa looked up at her. “A worldbook full of puzzles only you know how to solve?”

“Or perils only I know how to survive,” she said.

Leo drummed his fingers against the rapier’s pommel. “I might get to stab something, after all.”

“Here it is,” Faraz said, returning from the other room with a tome held open in his arms. “But wouldn’t he scribe it to be inaccessible to anyone but him?”

Elsa shook her head. “Too risky—that’s a great way to render yourself textual.”

Leo said, “Shame he didn’t do it, then.”

“Leo!” Porzia scolded, as if she took deep offense at the idea of wishing someone textualized.

“Anyway, there’s no such thing as an impenetrable security system,” said Leo. “So are we going in, or what?”

Porzia took the book from Faraz and flipped to the beginning. Elsa stood to look over her shoulder. After a few minutes of inspection, Porzia said, “My French isn’t perfect, but as far as I can tell, it doesn’t look as if it’ll kill us just to step inside. What do you think?”

Elsa took out her portal device. “Read me the coordinates.”

*

Leo didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this.

They stood in front of a fieldstone wall seven meters high that stretched to their left and right, curving gently away in both directions. Behind them was Edgemist, and directly before them was a gap in the wall, like a doorway absent the door. The dimness inside seemed somehow foreboding, as if it had been a long time since light trespassed in its territory.

The silence stretched long while Elsa waved that glove of hers around. Leo watched her working for a moment, but he felt acutely aware that they were not alone. He tried looking away, but that felt obvious, too—was it more telling to stare or to avoid staring?

Apparently satisfied with the stability of the world, Elsa removed the glove and cleared her throat. “This doesn’t seem so difficult. Obviously he must have hidden the book through there.”

Leo rested his hands on his hips as he eyed the wall, forcing his brain to focus. “You see how the wall’s curved, as if it might be one enormous circular structure? It’s a labyrinth. Full of dead ends and nasty surprises, no doubt.”

“Blind exploration and booby traps?” said Faraz lightly. “I thought you’d be thrilled.”

“Normally, I would be, but time is of the essence. We can’t afford to spend a week wandering lost in a maze.”

“No, we really can’t,” Elsa said tightly. Was she thinking of her mother? Leo felt a sudden urge to reach out, make contact, but when Elsa’s defenses were up it seemed as if she were the one behind protective glass, not her mother. Leo wasn’t sure he could touch her even if he tried.

Porzia said, “We needn’t explore the entire structure. If it is a labyrinth, everyone knows anything of importance will be located at the center.”

Leo took a deep breath and let it out, steadying his resolve. The best comfort he could give Elsa would be the safe return of her mother. He looked to Faraz. “Into the wolf’s mouth?”

Faraz grinned and replied, “May the wolf choke on us.”

And with that, Leo led the way.

*

At first the darkness made it difficult for Elsa to see much of anything in the center of her visual field, and she had to rely on peripheral vision just to place her feet without tripping. But after a minute within the labyrinth’s corridors, her eyesight adjusted to the diffuse lighting, and it became a relatively simple task to determine the difference between a shadow and a fallen fieldstone when one or the other crossed her path. She considered fetching a lantern from her laboratory worldbook, but if the light suddenly blew out, they’d all be left blind again.

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