“I know,” she said. She had left them dangling, running off like that. But what choice did she have? Still, an apology couldn’t hurt. “I’m sorry,” she added, only half meaning it.
He gave an emphatic nod. “Then we shall put this behind us. Let me tell you a few things about Libiris that you do not know. Things, I would point out again, that I would have told you much earlier had you agreed to come here voluntarily with me as your companion. But it is not too late to rectify that now.”
He paused. “I suppose I should start by telling you that you are not mistaken in believing that Libiris feels like Sterling Silver. It does, and there is a good reason for it. The buildings share a commonality that you know nothing about. Sterling Silver was constructed of materials and magic in equal parts in a time long since forgotten. She was created to be a sentient being, a caregiver for Landover’s Kings and Queens, a protector for their families. You know all this from your studies. Libiris shares something of those same characteristics, though to a lesser extent. When the old King had her built, back in the years before your father became ruler, he did so using materials taken from Sterling Silver. He did so in hopes that Libiris, like Sterling Silver, would take on a life of its own and become a living organism that would care for its books just as the King’s castle cared for its royal family.”
He gave her a knowing look. “Why could this be so? Because the Kings of Landover had discovered over the years that left to her own devices and occupied by a true king, Sterling Silver would take care of herself without human or fairy assistance. She could repair damage, brighten tarnish, clean off dirt and grime, and generally revitalize herself all on her own. It only became a problem for her to perform when no King sat upon the throne and the central purpose of her existence was undermined.
“The old King, then, instructed the court wizard to remove shelving throughout the castle to form the foundation for the Stacks and to take some stone from the battlements and ramparts to cap the walls of the library buildings. Just enough magically infused material to give Libiris a life of her own. Just enough so that she, too, would be able to function as an independent entity. Of course, this process was not an exact science, and the old King’s belief that you could graft pieces of one building onto another and get the same results was flawed. Nor did it help that his court wizard was my brother, who was already planning to take control when the old King was dead.”
He sighed. “So the effort failed, although not altogether. Libiris did become a sentient being, but on a much lower level of intelligence than Sterling Silver. There simply were not enough magically enhanced materials employed to achieve the desired result. The old King ended up with a building that was little more than a child. It could perform basic tasks, but it lacked the capacity for critical thought and problem solving. Its ability to care for itself and the books it housed was severely limited.”
“But was it Libiris that I heard calling out to me?” she pressed.
“Of course. The feeling of life in the flooring of the stacks and of a pulse that signaled a living presence was not something you imagined. Libiris is alive, and she obviously chose to call out to you and to make herself known. Perhaps she senses a kinship born of your connection with Sterling Silver. I don’t know. I can only guess.”
Mistaya thought about it a moment. Questor’s story explained most of what she had encountered, but not all. There was nothing that explained the black hole in the back of the Stacks or the fact that the Stacks themselves seemed to go on endlessly or that there was magic being employed to disguise time and place and to mute light. She didn’t think this could be the work of Libiris, given her limitations. This was someone or something else. Then there was the matter of the conversation she had overheard between His Eminence and Pinch. Clearly, it had something to do with what was happening at Libiris.
But she couldn’t tell him any of this or even talk about it in general terms without giving him too many reasons to spirit her back home.
“What do you think I should do about the meeting tomorrow morning with His Eminence?” she asked instead. “How do I explain what Thom and I did so that he won’t banish us?”
Questor Thews frowned reprovingly. “You are a Princess of Landover, Mistaya Holiday, and you do not answer to people like Craswell Crabbit or Rufus Pinch for anything. Once you have revealed yourself to them, we can dismiss this matter and return home.”
“What?” She jumped to her feet, her worst fear realized. “What are you saying? Go home? I can’t go home!”
Questor was suddenly flustered. “But why not? I can’t just leave you here, Mistaya! What do you expect me to do—go back and let your parents continue to wonder what has happened to you?”
Well, in point of fact, she did. But she also knew from the way he said it that she had better change her thinking. Besides, he was right. She couldn’t just leave her parents hanging with the possibility that she might be injured or in trouble. Still, she didn’t want them to interfere with what she was doing.
She took a deep, steadying breath. “I won’t give up on what I’m doing as if it didn’t matter,” she said to the wizard, emphasizing her words. “I have to see this through, and I don’t want to do it as a Princess of Landover. I want to do it as Thom’s sister, Ellice. I don’t expect you to understand this. But it’s something I’ve started that I intend to finish. I want to know more about that voice trying to communicate with me. I think there was a reason for it, Questor, and I have to stay long enough to find out what it is.”
The old man shook his head. “I don’t like it. I don’t trust Crabbit or Pinch. Especially Crabbit. You don’t know him as I do, Mistaya. For starters, he is a wizard and a very dangerous one at that. He was exiled to Libiris by the old King, well before your father’s time in Landover, for that very reason. It was necessary to put him somewhere that he wouldn’t cause trouble.”
“What sort of trouble had he caused earlier?” she asked, curious now.
Questor sighed. “This and that. He was an ambitious sort and lacked anything remotely connected to scruples. He was intent on advancing his position at court, and he didn’t care what it took to achieve that end. The position he coveted most was my own. Unfortunately for him, it was occupied at the time by my brother, the man who recruited your father to Landover and very nearly added him to a long list of failed rulers. But my brother was a more formidable adversary than Craswell Crabbit anticipated, and he was quick to recognize the other’s ambitions and was responsible for his exile. Crabbit’s magic made him a dangerous man, but my brother was more dangerous still.”
“But he didn’t try to come back to Sterling Silver when you became court wizard and my father King?”
Questor shook his head. “No, and that was something of a surprise. I had thought that after my brother was disposed of and your father made King, he would be one of the first to make his appearance and offer his services. That would be very like him. But he failed to do so, and after a while I simply stopped thinking about it.”
She frowned. “Yet you were prepared to send me here?”
“Not alone, I wasn’t. Only if I was in your company, your supervisor for this job of reopening the library and your protector against any threats. I wasn’t worried about Crabbit specifically. Frankly, it had been so long that I wasn’t even sure he was still here. I thought he might have moved on. I regret that I was wrong and regret even more that you had to encounter him on your own.”