Lord Qing Song, Irene reflected, if you want to remain unfathomable, you shouldn’t surround yourself with pets who respond to your moods.
When he replied, she detected a note of caution. ‘I didn’t realize the Library knew me well enough to recognize me on sight.’
Irene shrugged. She began to walk towards him. Of course this meant approaching the wolves, too, but no plan was perfect. ‘Well, we do try to keep records of prominent members of the dragon courts. But I have no idea what you’re doing here.’
She wanted to keep him off-balance. Her words were technically polite, but her tone was so casual, by dragon standards, as to be verging on an insult. And the longer they baited each other, the more chance Kai had to make a clean getaway.
One wolf padded forward to sniff at Irene’s hand as she reached the bottom of the stairs. She desperately tried to remember whether or not she’d touched Evariste. She didn’t think she had: she’d only gone through his belongings. She held her hand out for the wolf to inspect, and mentally crossed her fingers that she wouldn’t be drawing back a bloody stump. ‘How charming,’ she said, listening to it growl deep in its throat.
‘My own personal breeding,’ Qing Song said. ‘Dire wolves, of course.’
‘They certainly look it,’ Irene said drily.
‘A very early form of wolf, that is,’ Qing Song explained. He rubbed behind the ears of the largest of the six. ‘Every man needs a hobby.’
‘Unfortunately I spend so much time chasing books that I have very little opportunity to do anything else.’
‘And are you here to “chase” a book?’ Qing Song slid the question in quickly, like a knife between armour plates.
Irene had been planning her answer to that question. Now she just needed to make it look natural. ‘No. To be honest with you – should it be Prince or Lord, by the way?’
‘Lord will do,’ Qing Song said. ‘For the moment.’ He seemed more comfortable, now that they were standing on the same level and Irene no longer had the advantage of height.
She nodded. ‘I’m here because we’ve misplaced one of our own.’
Qing Song frowned. ‘Another Librarian? Has something happened to him?’
Now it could be that Qing Song habitually defaulted to male exemplars, as in his comment that every man needed a hobby. Or maybe he knew it was a male Librarian. Vale would have said they didn’t have enough data. Vale would have been right.
‘We don’t know,’ she said, with a slight shrug. ‘That’s part of the problem. He was on record as coming to this world, but he’s dropped out of contact. I was quite astonished to see you in the vicinity when I came downstairs. I mean, what are the odds that we two should meet up, in such a large city?’
Qing Song hesitated. ‘I will explain,’ he finally said. ‘I would not normally share these matters with an outsider, but possibly you can help.’ He paused, as if expecting her to express her gratitude for the opportunity to be of service. When she didn’t react, he continued. ‘I am hunting down a thief. The trail led me here.’
Irene took an angry step forward, even though all her reflexes would have vastly preferred backwards. ‘Are you suggesting a Librarian has stolen from you?’
‘Certainly not!’ Qing Song said quickly. ‘It occurred to me that the thief might have stolen from your colleague as well. That would explain why his trail led me here.’
It would have been easy for Qing Song to claim that this Librarian had stolen from him. It might even be true. So why should Qing Song emphatically deny that? Unless he wanted to keep Irene on his side for some reason.
Irene nodded slowly. ‘I must admit that, from his apartment upstairs, it looks as if my colleague was kidnapped.’
Qing Song turned to the bodyguard. ‘Lucci. You know something of these things.’
‘Have to look the place over first, boss,’ the man said, touching his hat.
‘On the third floor,’ Irene said helpfully. ‘The door is open. I’m not an expert, but it looks as if there was a struggle.’
Lucci glanced to Qing Song for permission, received a nod and padded up the stairs to investigate, as silent as the wolves.
Irene wondered how long she could keep him here. Kai would be going as fast as he could, but an unconscious body was an inconvenient dead weight to carry. If she could just keep Qing Song’s attention on her for a little longer . . .
She sighed. ‘This is so irritating. I was in the middle of quite an interesting piece of research about Gnostic imagery in the literature of post-revolutionary France, and I was called away to come and look for a very junior Librarian who’d simply overstayed his holiday. And now it looks as if he’s got into trouble. Why would someone be kidnapped in this place?’
‘Have you considered the possibility of Fae action?’ Qing Song suggested.
‘They’re here, too? Our records are badly out of date. I’d been told this world was comparatively untouched by interference.’
‘Did that come from other dragons?’ Qing Song enquired. ‘We might have acquaintances in common.’
Irene’s composure vanished like ice in a kettle. She couldn’t risk compromising Kai. She didn’t even want to risk compromising his uncle Ao Shun, or Li Ming. But claiming that she’d never met any dragons would lower her importance in Qing Song’s eyes. ‘None that I am at liberty to discuss,’ she said, in a tone that implied he should understand her position.
His slow nod suggested that he did. ‘I will shortly be taking up high office in the court of the Queen of the Southern Lands. Possibly we may assist one another in future . . .’
‘Congratulations on your future elevation,’ she answered neutrally. ‘I’m sure you’ll do an excellent job.’ But if he was that certain of the role, did he have the book? And if so, what was he still doing here, hunting down Evariste? The awareness of her current ignorance chilled her with the thought of all the things that might already have gone wrong.
One of the wolves whined, and a trickle of panic wormed its way down Irene’s spine as she wondered if it had smelled out a lie. Then a moment later she saw Lucci coming down the stairs.
‘Report,’ Qing Song ordered. ‘You may speak freely in front of this woman.’
‘He’s gone,’ Lucci said. The wolves cleared a path for him as he walked across to Qing Song. ‘This dame’s right – there was a struggle. Books all over the place. Someone went out the back window: it wasn’t locked. There were scuff marks. I figure it was one, maybe two people, and they were carrying someone with them. They turned the place over before they left. Pulled out the drawers, checked under the mattress – all the usual tricks. Sorry, boss, but we’re too late here.’
‘How long ago was it?’ Irene demanded, cutting across Qing Song before he could ask any questions. ‘And was there any sign of who they were?’
‘Not more than an hour ago,’ Lucci said, after a glance at Qing Song for approval. ‘And no, lady, they weren’t the obliging sort who’d leave a ransom note behind. But I can tell you that whoever it was, he opened the door for them.’