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“So the wind and the blackness are symptoms of injury and loss of purpose? Symptoms generated by Libiris?”

“Just so. They are a reaction to both conditions. But can you guess what injury she has suffered and what purpose has been stolen from her?”

Mistaya had no clue. She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

The cat stood up and started walking. “Then we’d better hurry on so you can find out.”

They moved ahead once more, penetrating deeper into the Stacks, and for a long time Mistaya was convinced that they were simply going to slog ahead forever without finding anything. Nothing around them changed; nothing suggested it ever would. There was no wind and no tunnel of blackness into which it could suck you, but there was nothing else, either. There was a gloomy sameness to things that filled her with an unexpected sense of despair.

“Why is this taking so long!” she hissed at Dirk in exasperation.

“It isn’t all that long; it just seems that way.” The cat barely glanced at her. “The distance is an illusion; Libiris seeks to protect herself.”

“Protect herself from what?”

But the cat had apparently lost interest in the conversation and did not answer. Letting the matter drop, she trudged on.

Finally, she caught a glimmer of light from somewhere ahead. She felt an urge to run toward it, to escape the darkness. But Edgewood Dirk kept moving at the same maddeningly unchanging pace, as if it made no difference whether they reached the light in the next few seconds or the next few days.

Then, as the light grew nearer and brightened sufficiently, it took on a crimson hue. She could see that it marked an opening in the library’s rear wall that was ragged and cracked all around its edges. The light seemed to emanate from the breach itself rather than from whatever lay beyond; the air was thick and misty and concealing. More disturbing to her, the light’s crimson hue suggested a wound.

Edgewood Dirk stopped abruptly and sat down. “This is as far as I go. You have to go on alone from here.”

She looked at him doubtfully. “Why is that?”

“I cannot pass through that opening. It would be much too dangerous for me. I will wait here for you to return.”

“I can go somewhere you can’t?”

“Because I am a fairy creature, I am at much greater risk than you. Once you pass through, you will understand.” He gave her another expressionless cat look. “You need not worry. I shall still be shielding you. Just be careful. Don’t go too far in. Touch nothing. Just take note of everything you see. It will be interesting to discover how much you understand.”

Thanks ever so much, she wanted to tell him. But she didn’t. She just nodded. “Go straight ahead, through that opening?”

“I believe I have already made that clear. Is there a problem? Are you too afraid to go through? Was I wrong when I said you were a bold girl?”

She felt like spitting at him, but instead she simply looked ahead again, studying the ragged, red-tinged rent in the wall and the deep gloom beyond. Well, she was either going to do this thing or turn back. Turning back was not an option.

She took a deep breath to steady herself and started forward.

She entered the hole in the wall without incident, paused only momentarily for a quick look about to reassure herself that she wasn’t missing anything, and then continued through to the other side. She moved more cautiously after she did, taking slower, more careful steps, listening for sounds, searching for movement.

She found both much more quickly than she anticipated. The hazy gloom cleared and she found herself in what appeared to be a tunnel that quickly turned into a winding stairway descending into the earth. She kept going only because she hadn’t found anything yet and had made up her mind she wasn’t going back until she did. She went down the stairs, hugging the wall to one side, her steps more cautious still. Strange glowing rocks embedded in the walls at regular intervals illuminated the darkness enough that she could see to make her way. The mist followed her down, a clinging presence that felt damp and cold against her skin. She ignored it as best she could, concentrating on the task at hand, putting one foot in front of the other, reminding herself that she wasn’t completely helpless here, that she had magic of her own to protect herself even if Dirk should abandon her. Not that she had any reason to think he would, of course. Although he had abandoned her before for all intents and purposes after she was inside Libiris, so maybe she shouldn’t be so sure about what might happen here.

Stop being so paranoid, she scolded herself. There’s nothing to be frightened of!

But several hundred feet farther down the stairway, she changed her mind.

The stairs leveled out onto a sort of shelf before continuing on down, and the wall opened up at this point in a kind of window to reveal a cavernous chamber below. She crouched down, peered over the wall’s edge, and was instantly reminded of the Stacks in Libiris. Perhaps this was because she was suddenly looking at row upon row of shelving, most of it filled with books. For a moment, she had the sensation that somehow she had returned to Libiris, although a different Libiris than she had left, a rather surreal one. Throg Monkeys were everywhere, carrying books to and fro, arranging and stacking and organizing.

Amid the little monsters were black-cloaked figures carrying tablets on which they were writing, presumably making lists of those books. In one shadowy corner, tightly clustered and hunched over a massive red, leather-bound book, a trio of the black-cloaked figures chanted the same words over and over again. Even from as far away as she was, she could tell that neither the list makers nor the chanters were human. Their hands and wrists were blackened and withered and clawed and gnarled, and once or twice she caught a quick glimpse of their faces, which were of the same terrible aspect, with eyes that glittered like embers.

At the periphery of all this activity were creatures that resembled monstrous wolves, huge muscular beasts that prowled back and forth along the edges of the workers like guard dogs. Their muzzles were drawn back to reveal rows of sharpened teeth.

Overhead, circling through the misty gloom above the shelving and the workers, things that resembled huge raptors flew in great sweeps, an endless and unchanging patrol.

What in the world was going on?

She watched it all for long minutes, crouched down on the rock shelf, pressed close against one edge of the opening so that she would not be seen. Perhaps with Dirk warding her, she couldn’t be seen, but she wasn’t about to take that chance.

The intricacies of the scene below slowly began to take shape. Books were being cataloged and placed on shelves in some sort of order by the Throg Monkeys and the list makers. Here and there, some of the list makers were actually reading some of the books and writing things down. All the while, the wolves and the flying creatures—whatever they were—kept watch against intrusions.

Intrusions from whom?

While she was puzzling it through, she sensed movement behind her. She turned, but before she could find a place to conceal herself a Throg Monkey was coming down the stairs, descending from Libiris and the Stacks. Its arms were loaded with books, but even as burdened as it was there was no way it could miss seeing her. She pressed against the wall, prepared to fight, already planning her attack and flight back up the way she had come. But the creature passed right by her, not once glancing in her direction. She held her breath until it was out of sight, and then exhaled sharply. Dirk’s shielding magic was working!

She stayed where she was, waiting for another of the Throg Monkeys to pass. Eventually, one did. But this time instead of trying to conceal herself, she kept her attention focused on the books that the creature was carrying. There were three of them, and two of the titles were clearly legible on the spines.