Kai was looking around with an air of polite interest, like any noble visitor admiring the scenery, ignoring the guards. ‘Some things are going to be easier to explain than others,’ he said quietly. ‘Like me.’
And there was another elephant in the room. There were so many elephants in the room that it was getting positively crowded. Appearing publicly in Kai’s company, as a Librarian, would not help Irene’s argument that the Library was neutral and was staying that way. Still, if this was a very private audience, Irene might be able to give their relationship its proper context . . .
Hu broke away from Qing Song with a nod and walked over to the three of them. ‘Your highness,’ he said, inclining his head to Kai. Then he turned to Irene. ‘You had a good run, but it’s over now.’
‘I doubt that very much,’ Irene said pleasantly. ‘I will have a great deal to say when people start asking questions.’
‘You may – but who will believe you?’ He turned to Evariste and produced a black-and-white photograph from an inner pocket.
The girl in the photo looked enough like Evariste that anyone could see they were related. Hu waited for a reaction from Evariste, then tucked the photograph away.
‘My lord’s word will outweigh yours,’ Hu said to Irene. But to Irene’s surprise, my lord was said dismissively, as though Qing Song was his trained dog – his mouthpiece. As if Qing Song had been given his instructions and knew what to say. ‘You have stolen, you have lied and you have committed assault on two of the Queen’s servants. If the blame for this matter is placed properly—’ His gaze indicated Evariste, as clear as a pointed finger ‘Perhaps with a suitable confession? Or simply a lack of defence . . . Either would suffice. Do you understand me? If you want the child to live, then you will comply.’
Irene was searching for the words to tell Hu just how wrong he was, when she saw Evariste’s face. Despair was settling in, bound up in a knot with desperation and hopelessness. All he had to do was sacrifice himself.
And sometimes, as she knew from her own experience, that could be such an easy thing to do. The easiest choice in the world.
‘Get away,’ she said to Hu, and her voice made him step back. ‘This man is a Librarian, and he’s not alone here.’
‘If you wish to fall with him, then you may do so,’ Hu said, moving to rejoin Qing Song.
‘You were wrong,’ Evariste said numbly, his voice barely audible. ‘This isn’t going to work. We’ve lost. Look, if I say it was my idea, then you can blame it all on me, right? It won’t be the Library’s fault – it’ll just be mine. Just promise me that you’ll make sure that she’s safe—’
Irene grabbed his shoulders, turning him to face her. ‘Shut up and listen to me,’ she snapped. ‘I am in charge here, and I am telling you that we have not lost. Give me a chance. I am asking you – no, I’m damn well ordering you not to give up. Trust me, Evariste. I am not going to surrender to Hu and play his game while we have one ounce of hope left. If we let him win on his terms, then he’s always going to have a hold over the Library. He’ll try this again further down the line. I won’t let that happen. Trust me.’
A solid thud rang through the courtyard, and all eyes turned to the robed man standing in the central arch, who’d just rapped his staff against the ground. ‘Hear and attend!’ he called. ‘Her Majesty the Queen of the Southern Lands requires your presence. Let all who stand before her speak truth, that justice may be established.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Irene and the others were escorted through the halls of the palace. The part of her that craved distraction wanted to take mental notes on the decor, the layout, the works of art and the hierarchies of the passing courtiers. After all, when would she have the chance to see such a thing again?
But her main focus was on something much more immediate, something she had only just realized. Something that cast an entirely different light on the last couple of days.
Hu was not just Qing Song’s servant – the velvet glove over the iron hand. Hu was the brain behind Qing Song, the plotter and the intriguer. Irene was certain that Hu had been speaking on his own behalf when he threatened Evariste just now. And when Irene looked at events with that in mind, so much of it made more sense.
Hu had been coordinating the hunt for Evariste, and then for Irene. Hu had deduced that Irene was lying, and had restrained and drugged her. And he’d been out of the room when Jin Zhi and Qing Song finally lost their tempers with each other – and things went badly wrong without him. Hu had been pulling the strings throughout, and allowing everyone to blame Qing Song. Just as Irene had been running around New York to draw people’s attention, so Hu had allowed – had always allowed – Qing Song to be the public figure while he himself did the work. Possibly Qing Song didn’t realize how much Hu was manipulating him. Hu wasn’t powerful enough or nobly-born enough to hold high rank himself – but that didn’t matter, as long as he had a suitable puppet who’d listen to his suggestions.
She’d been deceived – no, she’d let herself be deceived – because she’d disliked Qing Song, and she’d seen an echo of herself in Hu. Fellow professionals. Oh yes.
There was something about Jin Zhi that was nagging at the back of Irene’s mind, too, but she put it off. Hu was the more immediate threat. Qing Song was a poor liar – too hot-headed to maintain the right facade – as she knew from her own experience. Events in the next few minutes might depend on whether Hu or his master was making the accusations.
But was it true that Qing Song’s word would automatically be believed, over anything that Irene might say? If it was, then Irene and Evariste might have no chance at all. They’d have to confess personal involvement in order to save the Library’s reputation – and even that might not work. It would leave both Qing Song and Hu with far too much knowledge about the Library. And they’d still be holding Evariste’s daughter, and would be willing to use the same tactics again in the future . . .
The Queen of the Southern Lands, Ya Yu, sat in state in her private receiving room. If this was the less impressive room, Irene wondered what the main throne room was like. But common sense told her to be grateful the situation wasn’t public enough to require its use.