Page 55 of Play of Shadows

I kept tapping the pin on my collar as if it were a bell that could magically awaken the warden’s sense of awe. ‘But what else is there?’

Someone standing behind harrumphed to indicate that I was blocking the way. The warden pushed me aside with one hand, and with the other, beckoned forward the richly dressed manalso waiting to get in. At first glance, the fellow’s eye-shaped brooch looked identical to mine– until the light from the enormous lantern hanging above us glinted off a green stone in the centre of the iris.

‘Was that an emerald?’ I asked, once the man had gone in.

The warden smiled as if a child had just asked if there were numbers larger than three. ‘Emerald. Sapphire. Ruby. Diamond.’

‘Diamond?But what else is left once someone can enter the restricted section?’

‘Oh, plenty of things. Librarians will do private research for those bearing sapphire passes. A ruby pass gets you a scribe to copy the unrestricted books.’

‘And diamond?’

The warden pursed his lips. ‘Truth be told, I’ve never seen one, and I’m not entirely sure what it allows. All I know is that if someone ever shows up with one, all us wardens are to clear the library at once while a clerk fetches the chief librarian.’

Saint Anlas-who-remembers-the-world, I thought,whoever knew there was a secret hierarchy of library patrons out there?

I started pondering what other enigmas were being kept from prying eyes– and what could possibly be so seditious in the work of an obscure author like Sigurdis Macha that it warranted being kept under lock and key?

‘Please,’ I begged, ‘I just need to look at the second volume ofThe Garden of Majesty– two minutes with it and I’ll be gone.’

The warden stroked the short truncheon hanging from his belt. ‘The only thing open to negotiation, sir, is the manner of your departure, not the timing.’

So ended my career as a budding scholar of historical puzzles. The last thing I needed was more bruises.

But as I turned to leave, I heard someone whisper, ‘If it is a garden of majesty you seek, oh Veristor, you shan’t find one inthis barren desert.’

I spun around, searching for whoever’d spoken, but all I saw were rows of shelves on either side and the warden barring my path.

‘What did you say?’ I asked.

‘I said the only thing open to nego—’

‘Right, right. Clever turn of phrase, that.’ I turned to seek the owner of the mysterious voice, which I noted had been pitched theatrically low.

Someone’s trying to be sneaky. My mysterious benefactor, perhaps?

I traced a path along the nearest of the massive curved bookcases, almost positive I could hear someone shuffling on the other side.

‘Hello?’ I asked, quickly pushing several volumes out of the way to create a three-inch gap. I caught a glimpse of loosely braided coral tresses, but when I walked to the end and round to the other side, the row was empty.

‘Who’s there?’ I demanded.

‘A ghost, perhaps?’ This time the voice came from a set of shallow shelves behind me. When I turned, a pair of green eyes locked with mine through the gap between books. The pinching at the corners suggested an unseen smile.

‘Who are you?’ I asked.

‘A friend,’ came the evasive reply. After a theatrical pause, the voice added, ‘. . . perhaps.’

‘Was it you who left the scholar’s mark for me? Because it hasn’t helped me one bi—’

But she was gone again.

‘I’ve no time for childish pranks,’ I called out, which elicited a roar of ‘Hush!’ and ‘Shhhh!’ from the reading desks lining the far wall, followed by angry whispers threatening dire consequences if I didn’t shut up. Thewhooshof books being shoved asidemade me spin around. This time my tormentor had made her own gap, revealing a pair of berry-red lips framed by plump cheeks and chin painted with the alchemical sigils used by those actors who lower themselves to performing in cheapside occultatoria. Despite the elaborate stage trickery used to craft the illusion of foreign mages performing supernatural feats, these. . . . entertainments. . . generally ended with half the cast naked and writhing together on the stage. I wasn’t especially proud of my career as an actor, but at least I’d never had to perform in an occultatoria.

I had things to do and was out of patience. ‘Either reveal yourself or leave me alone,’ I said.

She pushed more of the books aside, and kept beckoning me closer until my face was pressed into the gap– whereupon she reached a hand through, gripped the back of my neck and pulled me into a kiss.

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