The tea-room was well lit, and its ether-lamps glared out onto the dark wet pavement outside. Mirrors faced every wall that wasn’t already set with a window, and the overall impression was one of bright clarity edged with expensive dark wood flooring. Waiters and waitresses glided silently around in plain white and black clothing, as blank-faced as dolls. Vale had mentioned the restaurant as a place where most of the local spies met up for off-the-record conversation. Vale knew the most interesting facts. It was to do with being London’s greatest detective. What Vale didn’t know, he had absolutely no idea about, but what he did know was usually fascinating.
Irene let the waiter pull out her chair, and sat down opposite Jin Zhi. The two women studied each other across the menu. Again, Irene felt that touch of underlying power. She tried to decide whether she was meant to perceive it and be afraid, or whether Jin Zhi simply lacked practice at keeping it under control.
‘Having tea with me won’t place you under any sort of obligation,’ Jin Zhi said. ‘That’d be a Fae trick. We can split the bill.’
‘That sounds fair,’ Irene agreed. ‘What would you like?’
‘The high tea for two sounds reasonable. Tea, sandwiches, macaroons—’
‘It’s past midnight.’
‘So? They’re still serving it.’
Irene nodded and let Jin Zhi give the order. She glanced at the other people in the room, studying their reflections in the mirrors. There were very few people alone: most of them were in pairs or trios, gathered at their own tables, heads close together as they spoke quietly. A piano in the corner of the room tinkled sweetly, not enough to be intrusive, but loud enough to blot out whispers.
‘Let me start this again,’ Jin Zhi said, once the tea had arrived. ‘I’m sorry that we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Jin Zhi, and I serve the Queen of the Southern Lands. I hold only a small position, having dominion over a mere dozen worlds. I am grateful you allowed me the courtesy of this meeting.’
‘The honour is mine,’ Irene said, matching the other woman’s formality. ‘I am Irene, a servant of the Library, though a junior one, and I am Librarian-in-Residence to this world. I don’t know why I’ve deserved your attention, but naturally I’m delighted to receive you here.’ And how had Jin Zhi known where to find her? A question for later. ‘How do you take your tea?’
‘A little milk, no sugar,’ Jin Zhi said. She waited for Irene to fill the cup. Clearly her gestures towards equality only went so far: the inferior person poured the tea. ‘Do you think that fulfils the requirement for professional courtesy?’ she added.
‘Probably,’ Irene said. She added a splash of milk to her own tea. ‘Though a “mere dozen” worlds? I hope I’m not taking you away from anything important.’
‘It’s all admin,’ Jin Zhi admitted. ‘There’s very little actual involvement in ruling them, and only from behind the scenes. None of them are actually at risk from the forces of chaos. But to get to the point . . .’ Jin Zhi gave Irene what was obviously a well-practised smile of friendly sisterhood. It pinged every single one of Irene’s mental alarms. ‘It’s about a book.’
Irene folded her hands around her cup. ‘I may not have it personally in stock, but I know most of this world’s major libraries by now, and a fair number of the best bookshops,’ she said. ‘Can you tell me the author and the title?’
Jin Zhi snorted. ‘If I’d just wanted an ordinary book from this world, then I could have sent a servant to find it. I wouldn’t have needed to discuss it with a Librarian.’
‘Then what do you want? And where do you want it from?’
‘I’m interested in a version of the Journey to the West.’ Jin Zhi sipped her tea. ‘No doubt you know the work. It’s from a specific world – and not this one. I can give you the details. I’m sure you must have many different versions in your Library . . .’
‘I’m afraid that we don’t loan them out,’ Irene said flatly.
However, she did indeed know the Journey to the West – it was one of the four great classical novels of Chinese literature in many worlds. It was a sixteenth-century work of semi-history, semi-mythology and semi-philosophy, about one monk’s travels to bring back Buddhist scriptures from India, with his supernatural companions. It involved hair-raising adventures, shape-changing, beating up monsters and flying around on clouds. The monk’s contributions tended to involve standing around being useless – or being on the dinner menu for the monster of the current chapter, while his companions did all the work. The Monkey and Pig characters had all the interesting moments. Most Librarians would at least have recognized the name, even if they hadn’t read it.
But some requests had to be refused, however dangerous the person requesting it. ‘This simply isn’t possible.’
‘Not even if you have more than one copy?’ Jin Zhi’s eyes flashed with an angry light, like sun glinting off a sword.
‘It’s a strict rule. We don’t make exceptions.’ Irene kept her expression calm. Showing fear would only confirm her as an inferior entity. ‘Though this does refer to the Library’s own copies. If what you’re looking for is a transcript of the text, then I could have someone make a copy—’
Jin Zhi was already shaking her head condescendingly. ‘No. An original edition is required. Preferably Ming-dynasty, though later would do.’ Even though Irene had just refused, Jin Zhi didn’t look discouraged. ‘Perhaps if I explain why?’
Irene noted that Jin Zhi’s phrasing was extremely cautious. Not once had she actually asked Irene to obtain a copy for her, or even suggested that she wanted it personally. It was all I’m interested in or It is required. Very curious. ‘Bedtime reading?’ she suggested.
Jin Zhi laughed, surprised for a moment into genuine amusement. She helped herself from the tiered trays that had arrived at the table – laden with sandwiches, scones, little cakes and macaroons – and gestured for Irene to do likewise. ‘Nothing so simple, I’m afraid. You see . . .’
She paused, as if not sure where to begin, but there was something a little staged to it – as though it was all part of a demonstration of nearly-human fallibility. We’re just women together. You can trust me.
‘The Queen of the Southern Lands is one of the four great queens who rule the inner dragon kingdoms. Or should that be queendoms?’
‘I understand that there are four outer kingdoms ruled by four kings, and four inner kingdoms ruled by the four queens,’ Irene said. She’d managed to get that much out of Kai. ‘And the outer kingdoms lie closer to the worlds of chaos, while the inner kingdoms are closer to the worlds of order.’
Jin Zhi nodded. ‘Recently Minister Zhao decided to . . . retire. And her majesty has decided to offer two of her junior servants a chance to take the empty place. So she has set us in competition with each other.’
‘She wants you to find her a book,’ Irene said. And yes, perhaps Her Majesty the Queen of the Southern Lands had also set her servants trials of rulership and administration, and so on. But if not, Irene could only admire her. Go fetch me this book. The woman – the dragon – the queen – clearly had her priorities right.