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“What a blessing,” she chuckled. “So my uncle is in there?”

“Those are his quarters, indeed yes, my Lady.”

She paused. “Residential quarters?”

The lad nodded. “We offer comfort and convenience for Caelemar citizens who...who relish a quiet place to focus on their research.” He thought for a moment. “Some of our members devote large parts of their lives to their research, you know. Going home at the end of a day would interrupt their thoughts quite dramatically. So this is often a sort of second home for many of them.”

“A lovely idea,” responded Maelin politely. Her thoughts, however, were a little more practical. Here was a chance to escape the mundane and become immersed in other worlds. Something she knew her Uncle would very much appreciate, given the woman he’d married.

“This must be a massive complex,” she said quietly, more to herself than the lad.

“It is the largest library anywhere in Caelemar. The largest collection of books anywhere in the world.” He raised his chin. “And we are so proud of the volumes, the organization, the ability to lay our hands on almost any book ever published in scarcely more than a heartbeat...”

As he spoke, a small rumbling sound grew larger and a wicker basket lined with soft velvet trundled past, stopped at a corner, paused, and then turned left, vanishing smoothly into the next corridor.

She raised an eyebrow at her guide.

“All part of the library’s workings,” he answered her silent question. “We have a dozen or so staff members, but a small army of tickerkins and other automatons handling most of the shelving, cataloguing and retrievals.”

“Well, I’m impressed,” replied Maelin. “But now I really must find my Uncle.”

“Of course. Just tap on the side panel and the door will know whether Lord Phineas is receiving today.”

“Thank you.”

She watched the lad walk away, then turned to the corridor and made her way to the door. The panel he’d spoken of was a smooth white wood with a little sign that said “Tap Here”.

So she did.

And the door opened.

Chapter Sixteen

While Maelin climbed into the scholarly heights of Caelemar, Cyrus was descending into an entirely different kind of library.

The 422 Club catered to the highest levels of the aristocracy, and the most literate. While the Gilded Lily catered to a small sector of Gloamtide...the witches.

There, Cyrus was somewhat unnerved by the display of very unusual books in front of him, glancing at Primrose, then looking back at the shelf.

“Those are...unusual,” he said quietly. “I’m almost afraid to speak, lest I awaken them.”

The witch shot him an approving glance. “You recognise the magic, then. I’m impressed, Cyrus. Most people who’ve seen them—and who aren’t witches—tend to disregard them as simply old books, probably full of arcane and useless writings.”

“They’d be very wrong.”

“They would indeed.” She walked slowly along the shelf. “I haven’t touched these in some time. And I have to confess that doing so now is giving me a certain amount of concern.”

“Primrose.” Cyrus spoke firmly. “If this is dangerous, then stop.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. There’s blood on the ground, now, Cyrus. Too much blood. If there’s a spell connected with all this, I must locate it, and find the antidote if there is one.”

“Just be careful, all right?”

She managed a little chuckle. “Always on the lookout for others, aren’t you?”

“Seems so,” he said briefly.

“Ah.”