CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER ONE
“Y’know, I think this would make a great movie,” said Peg, pausing where she was sorting through a tray of weirdly varied items she’d gathered from one of the shelves in the wrecked artifacts repository beneath the Library of the Sapphire Wind. “Three fine ladies far beyond the first bloom of youth are drawn through a portal into a shrine in a strange world. Their mission: Help three young people succeed in their quests.”
“Inquisitions,” corrected Meg dryly, pausing in her review of a battered tome. She laughed. “I remember how we all reacted when the translation spell chose that word. Honestly, though, it is a better choice. All three of our young friends have questions far larger than any simple quest. I’m not sure that the complexity of this tale could be grasped in a movie. I’d prefer a book. I suppose it would need to be a novel, since no one would ever believe this was nonfiction.”
From where she was working at the base of a bank of broken lockboxes over to one side of the repository, Teg rocked back on her heels and looked with great affection at her two friends. It was hard to believe that not all that long ago, they had been nothing more to her than a couple of members of the monthly book group to which they all belonged: people she mostly saw there, although occasionally at some open lecture at Taima University.
Meg Blake, silver-haired, very pink and white of complexion, looked every inch the retired librarian she was. Her blue eyes, faded now with age, were quick and alert, rarely missing anything that went on around her, even when you would have sworn she was absorbed in reading or in scribbling notes in her omnipresent journal. Somewhere in her seventies, Meg was the eldest of their trio.
“All right,” Peg countered. “How about a miniseries then? My kids prefer them anyhow. My Esmerelda says she likes talking to her friends about what might happen next. You’ve got to admit, our story has lots of suspense and reversals of expectations. Grunwold and Vereez both didn’t tell us the full story behind their inquisitions, and I bet anything the same will prove true of Xerak. Then there was the appearance of sultry Kaj and his crazy mother, Ohent—not to mention what we learned about how our inquisitors’ parents had shared a life of crime in their youths.”
Teg swallowed a chuckle at the familiar “My . . .” Although only in her sixties, Peg Gallegos had started having kids young, and remained devoted to all of them: four of her own, four step, as well as in-laws, and a growing herd of grandkids. Currently divorced, Peg had been married at least three times. Somehow, repeated disappointment had never quelled Peg’s enthusiasm for new experiences.
Peg had even taken aging on as a challenge, remaining physically fit, and deciding that the greying of her dark brown hair was an excuse to incorporate “sun-streaked” highlights. Although she’d spent a lot of her life in California, Peg had moved to Pennsylvania when one of her kids (was it Diego?) had taken a job as a city manager in Taima, a once sleepy community which was in the process of reinventing itself as a combination archetypal college town and retirement destination.
She’s in good shape for her age. I’m definitely still fit. Meg’s the oldest of us, but she isn’t exactly frail or fragile. I wonder if our good health, both mental and physical, was part of our appeal when Hettua Shrine started casting about for mentors that fit the needs of our three inquisitors.
“So, Teg,” Peg said, “Movie? Miniseries? Novel?”
Teg considered. “How about graphic novel? Or animated? I know special effects have gotten a whole lot better, but this world is different, really different. Could CGI get it right? I mean, we’re used to it by now, but you have to admit, learning that everyone here is therianthropic—mixing animal and human traits—was a real shock. Now I don’t think twice about Vereez, say, having the head and tail of a fox, but it did take a while to get used to.”
“If animated,” Meg cut in, “it would need to be done in one of the more serious styles. Our inquisitors are fascinating young people, but their appearance is more mystic and noble than ‘cute.’ Disney would positively ruin them, and probably make us three all short, wrinkled, and impossibly adorable, like older versions of those three Fairy Godmothers in Sleeping Beauty. That’s why I’d prefer a novel. We wouldn’t be locked into some art department’s idea of what we are.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Peg said. “I wouldn’t mind seeing our adventures live. Me at the wheel of Slicewind as we tear through the skies. Teg using her archeologist superpowers to solve the mystery of where the doorway into the Library of the Sapphire Wind had vanished. Meg channeling the genius loci of a ruined magical library. The mysterious necropolis . . .”
As Teg went back to using her “archeologist superpowers” to sweep up potentially interesting debris from the floor of the repository, she swallowed a sigh. Peg might talk about Teg’s “archeologist superpowers,” but one thing about spending time with three talented “twenty-somethings” (Vereez was actually only nineteen) was that despite Meg and Peg being older than her, there were times Teg definitely felt the weight of her fifty-some years: menopause, aches and pains, and all the rest. Listening to Peg chatter about her expanding family, Teg often wondered if she’d missed out on important aspects of life when she chose to focus on her career, never marrying or having kids.
But I’m in good shape, Teg reminded herself. And it’s sort of nice being in a world where my mixed race heritage isn’t the first thing anyone sees about me. Here Meg’s not an American woman of Scandinavian descent or Peg a mix of Spanish and Irish, or me just about everything else, topped off with a funky, purple highlighted punk cut. I’m Teg Brown: archeologist, mentor . . .Her fingertips drifted to the sun spider amulet that she kept in a pocket, within easy reach of her right hand. Apprentice user of at least some sort of magic. Hey, I’m cooler even than Indiana Jones. Right?
Grinning, Teg pushed to her feet and brought her dustpan over to where she’d set up a makeshift screen. Meg reached for another crumbling tome, which she looked at reverently before gently opening the front cover.
A moment later, she screamed. Teg swung around in time to see a needle-toothed, bat-winged creature with enormous eyes take shape from the printed page and surge up toward Meg’s face.
Luckily, Meg had been wearing her reading glasses, so her eyes were saved when the creature spat a gob of foaming spittle toward her face. Even so, the librarian’s hands and fingers were blistered by an acidic ichor that spattered from beneath the creature’s wings. Only Sapphire Wind intervening as a compact storm of electric blue sparks saved more of Meg’s body from similar damage.
Meg’s scream brought the three inquisitors running.
Thundering down the corridor from where he’d been clearing away chunks of broken masonry came Grunwold, his antlered head bent, his hand reaching for the hilt of the long sword sheathed at his hip. Behind him was fox-headed Vereez, nearly running into him in her haste. The young woman ducked under Grunwold’s arm, darted out in front of him, then pulled up short when she saw that at least half a dozen of the bat-winged creatures were now flapping around the room. They were unable to get at Meg, who Sapphire Wind had protected with a tent of blue sparks, but clearly not willing to call it quits.
“What the . . .” Vereez said, moving as if uncertain whether to draw her twin swords or to dive under the book-piled table at which Meg had been working.
Down the stairs from reading room, the text he’d been perusing in one hand, the spear that served as his staff in the other, lion-headed Xerak came barreling in.
The young wizard shouted, “Ilusutinni. Magical creations. Grunwold, get Meg out of the repository. Then get her medical help. Vereez, create a wind to push them back. Teg!”
“I’m here!”
“Close whatever book Meg was messing with before more of the ilusutinni get loose. Don’t make skin contact with the book yourself!”
“Right!”
Teg felt in her righthand pocket for the sun spider amulet, already formulating a plan. Grunwold had bodily lifted Meg away, and was carrying her up the stairs. The pages of the book Meg had been reading were fanning back and forth, as if moved by a slight breeze. Several of the pages were beginning to morph into wings, while eyes bulged out from the tightly clustered pages near the book’s spine.
Oh, no you don’t!
Although Teg knew she still had a lot to learn about the sun spider amulet, the one thing she did feel confident about was using it to shoot what she liked to think of as “Spidey silk.” Resisting an urge to close her eyes to help herself concentrate, Teg imagined herself talking to the amulet.
“All right. Let’s glue the book’s pages closed from a distance. Meg might even forgive me for book vandalizing. Eventually.”
The amulet didn’t talk back, but Teg felt it awakening, considering, enjoying the challenge she had presented it. Not a single one of the sun spider’s many radiating legs moved but, nonetheless, Teg felt something that seemed like motion. She raised her arm palm outward, holding the sun spider amulet cradled in her grasp. The minute faceted gems that represented the sun spider’s eyes glittered so brightly that the air sparkled. Teg shouted aloud, although she wasn’t at all certain it was necessary:
“Let’s do it!”
A line of yellowish-white light burst forth from the amulet’s circumference and hit the inner edge of the open tome’s front cover, solidifying into a solid silken cord as it did so. Teg moved to one side, pulling as she did, managing to haul the cover over so that it flopped shut. The emerging ilusutinni within hissed protest, then the book began to steam and shake.
Pulling on a work glove as she dashed over, Teg used her gloved hand to stand the battered tome on one end, feeling decidedly creeped out when she realized that several sets of eyes were now glaring at her from the spine. She wrapped the sun spider silk cord, solid and sticky now, around and around, binding the book closed. For a brief moment, she thought the trapped ilusutinni were going to use their caustic spittle to burn their way out, but perhaps the creatures were reluctant to damage their portal or home or whatever the battered book served as. The steaming stopped, the eyes that had continued to glower at her closed, then merged back into the spine, and the book was still.
Teg quickly inspected the rest of Meg’s collection of books, assuring herself that none of the damaged volumes were giving forth new monsters. To one side, Vereez was holding her hands out in front of her, muttering soft words filled with S sounds. Wind is invisible, but its effects are not, and the small flock of ilusutinni were being buffeted back into a corner of the room.
Xerak was saying. “Good, Vereez. Keep them in that corner. It’s all stone so . . .”
He said one of those words the translation spell couldn’t or wouldn’t translate, and there was a “whoomph” sound, sort of like a gas burner igniting, although much louder, followed by multiple shrill voices shrieking, and a smell that mixed the worst parts of burning hair and boiling vinegar.
“Wow!” Vereez gasped. “That reeks worse than one of Teg’s cigarettes. Did you kill them?”
“More like banished,” Xerak replied. He sounded utterly exhausted, and half collapsed, sliding against a wall to sit tail-down on the floor. “Do I ever need a drink!”
Teg took off the long sleeved overshirt she was wearing, since the below-ground repository was rather chilly. Here at the Library, the three humans often wore clothing from their own world, since anyone who would see them would already know that they were not any sort of creature anyone had ever seen in this world. She then bundled up the bound tome in the shirt. The book seemed quiescent, but she wasn’t taking any chances that it might decide to open its eyes to spy out another time to attack. As she was neatly tying off the sleeves, she heard booted feet on the stone stairs.
Grunwold called down, “I’ve got Meg settled up here, and Peg’s with her, so I’m going for Nefnet.”
“Good,” Teg called. “I’ll come right up. Xerak and Vereez can make sure there are no acid bats lurking elsewhere.”
She ran up the stairs to the reading room. Peg was gently sponging off the back of one of Meg’s hands, while Meg leaned against the table and tried hard not to wince.
“How are you, Meg?”
Meg’s voice quavered a little with shock as she replied, “My skin burns where the spittle got through, but I’d be a lot worse off if Sapphire Wind hadn’t intervened.”
She looked to where the sparkling blue light was still faintly visible. It brushed against her cheek, after the manner of a cat. At that moment, Grunwold returned, escorting Nefnet, trailed by Kaj, with Ohent, veils jangling, bringing up the rear. Once again, Teg found herself thinking about how much weirdness she’d come to accept as normal.
Nefnet, who immediately started inspecting Meg’s acid burns, had the head and tail of an otter. Kaj, who was a couple of years older than Xerak, had the head and tail of an African painted dog, but his mother, Ohent, the last arrival, concealed the head and puffy tail of a snow leopard beneath voluminous gauzy veils, not because she was in the least ashamed of how she looked, but because the veils helped control her sporadic attacks of insanity.
Nefnet reached for her doctor’s bag, which Grunwold had carried for her. “I have some ointment here that should help. Sapphire Wind’s intervention kept most of the ilusutinni’s spittle from hitting you, Meg. Your hands suffered the worst injury, and even that seems to have been more like a misting. Still, I think it would be wise if you stayed here at the Library for a few days, so I could continue to monitor you.”
Meg nodded, but her gaze flickered to Vereez, whose inquisition would most likely be their next focus. When Vereez had been only fourteen, she had become pregnant by none other than Kaj. By the time she realized she was pregnant, Kaj had vanished, and he had never known about the child. When Vereez’ parents had learned of her condition, they had sent Vereez away, lest the situation cause them social embarrassment. Then, after the baby had been born, they had taken it from her, and from that point on had denied its very existence.
Vereez knew nothing about her child, other than that she was female and her age—about four years old. Nonetheless, Vereez had been determined to find the child, so she could assure herself as to the little girl’s well-being. This had grown to an obsession that, in the terms of her culture, made Vereez a “holdback,” someone who would be unable to move forward in life until her problem had been solved.
Xerak and Grunwold were holdbacks as well, but Grunwold’s problem—finding a cure for his mortally ill father—had recently been solved, at least as much as it could be. Xerak’s holdback was that his apprentice master, Uten Kekui, was missing. Devoted as he was to his master, Xerak had seemed willing to put Vereez’s search first, although there was no doubt that he was eager to move along to his own mission.
Perhaps knowing that Meg was aware of his fanatical devotion, and that he would fret at any delay, Xerak took care to reassure Meg.
“Don’t worry, Meg-toh,” he said, using the suffix that indicated affection for an elder who was not a family member. “Sapphire Wind is still working on finding the information we need to continue Vereez’s inquisition. We’re not going anywhere until then.”
“And,” Vereez said decisively, coming over and putting a hand on Meg’s shoulder, “even then, until Nefnet says you’re safe to travel, we’re not going anywhere. My inquisition has waited years. It can certainly wait a few more days. Rest and heal. All I ask is that you stay away from dangerous books.”
Meg managed to look meek. “I promise. I most sincerely promise.” Then she cleared her throat and spoke with her usual calm assertiveness. “The reason Sapphire Wind was close enough to intervene on my behalf when the ilusutinni attacked was that it had come to ask me to tell you that it would like to consult further with us regarding the research it has been doing.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Xerak said, and everyone else nodded.
“Let’s go to the reception hall,” Nefnet suggested. “Meg can rest on my bed, and I’ll brew her an infusion that will help with the pain.”
Even though she had been strung out from their encounter with the land squid, when they had arrived at the Library, Teg had immediately noticed the changes that had been made in the Library’s great reception hall. When they had first seen the reception hall, it had been rubble strewn, dusty, and poorly lit. Although the reception hall still showed ample evidence of the catastrophic destruction that had rocked through the entire Library, some effort was being made to make it useable once more.
Over near the reception desk, Nefnet had constructed for herself a sort of house without walls. There was a comfortable chair, a table with a reading light on it, a small bookshelf, a crystal reader, and a scroll rack. Not far away, Nefnet had set up a small kitchen/dining room that had been well stocked with mismatched crockery. Freestanding carved screens flanked a makeshift bed constructed from two more bookshelves with what seemed to be a door on top. The bedding they’d left for Nefnet when they had departed for the necropolis was unrolled on top.
“I do like how you’ve made yourself at home,” Peg said with approval as she helped Meg onto Nefnet’s bed, propping her up with pillows so she could sit upright enough to drink the promised infusion. “You haven’t been too lonely?”
“A little,” Nefnet admitted, filling a tea kettle from a large water bottle, “but Emsehu is here, and he can be an interesting conversationalist. Some of the other guardian creatures have begun to escort me when I venture into the stacks, so I feel as if I have pets. Sapphire Wind will occasionally speak to me through one of the guardians but, unless their interests match the topic, Sapphire Wind finds using them to communicate draining.”
At the sound of his name, Emsehu came trotting out from where he had, based upon the dust coating him, been rooting about among the rubble. In this magically rich world which Peg had dubbed Over Where, in addition to many types of plants and animals that resembled nothing on Earth, there was a category of creature officially termed a “unique monstrosity.” Emsehu was one of these. He looked something like a crocodile, if a crocodile had the stocky body of a pit bull, as well as the spiked carapace and heavily weighted tail of an ankylosaur.
Emsehu had been born one of the therianthropic denizens of Over Where, but a series of bad decisions had led to him being presented with the choice of death or of having his spirit incarnated in one of the guardian creatures of the Library. He had chosen the latter. Now he lived in the Library, more or less content in his new role. Perhaps, Teg thought, thinking back upon Emsehu’s history, he was more content than he had ever been in his original life.
Emsehu greeted them all, then moved to one side where he shook off the worst of the dust in a very doglike manner.
“Since Meg has been injured,” he said, “Sapphire Wind has asked me to help it tell you what it has learned about Ba Djed. Having served as the guardian of the Spindle for so long, I admit, I am very interested the matter as well.”
“Where should we sit?” Vereez asked. “And can we help with anything?”
“If you’d clear off that long table,” Nefnet said, “we can sit there. Just move the bits and pieces to one end. I’ll put on enough water that we can all have tea.”
“I brought some wine,” Xerak said, “and I’ll even share.”
Grunwold went to where he’d left his pack. “I brought supplies for Nefnet, and before we left Slicewind we packed a lunch for everyone. How about we eat while we talk? That way Xerak’s wine won’t go straight to his head.”
Xerak, who was pulling the cork from a wine bottle, gave Grunwold a dirty look, but when he filled his cup, Teg noticed he didn’t gulp down the contents as he might have done.
“Wonderful,” Nefnet said. “I appreciate the supplies. I’m in no danger of running out of food, but it’s nice to feel secure.”
“It looks as if you’ve been doing some sort of craftwork,” Peg commented as she moved various items aside.
“I once thought that if I had the time, I’d read all day,” Nefnet said, almost apologetically. “I have discovered that I need more to occupy me. Emsehu and I’ve done some limited exploring of the Library, but, as you just saw, it is still hardly safe. So I’ve been doing some repairing. Many of the data crystals may be salvageable, although there will probably be blank areas in their content.”
Teg moved to look at Nefnet’s work. “Nice job. Reminds me of piecing together broken pots from sherds. It’s satisfying making something whole again.”
Peg added, “You studied healing magic, didn’t you, Nefnet? So this is right up your alley, fixing what’s broken.”
Nefnet looked pleased. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but you’re right. The tea water will take a bit of time to heat. Did you bring dishes, or should I get some out?”
“We brought utensils,” Grunwold said, “and we can eat off of the wrapping clothes.” He cleared his throat. “Uh, has my father . . .”
“Oh! You don’t know?” Nefnet said. “I wasn’t sure. Yes, your father has been here, in company with your mother. I’ve given Konnel the first treatment. We will reassess his progress in four months, then refine the treatment.”
Grunwold’s ears drooped in relief. “That’s wonderful. Thank you. If you need anything . . .”
Nefnet motioned toward her makeshift kitchen. “Much of that is their doing. Sefit stripped their ship’s galley of the stove and several water containers. She even took out the icebox. The cabinet holds every bit of food they could spare. They offered me more bedding, but I really am comfortable, and I’d already salvaged crockery from what used to be the Library staff’s breakroom. Over there”—Nefnet pointed to an area shielded by more screens—“Sefit and her servants made me proper bathing facilities and a very nice toilet. I fear they must have had an uncomfortable voyage home.”
She paused, then added, “I didn’t expect to, but I liked Konnel very much, and Sefit as well. I can understand why you wanted to save him. Now, can you tell me what happened after all of you left here?”
“How much did my parents tell you about Dad’s past?” Grunwold asked. “I need to know, because it ties into our own journey.”
“Your father was very frank,” Nefnet said. “At my request, he began with how he and his fellow extraction agents had come to raid the Library, and what happened after they fled with one third of Ba Djed of the Weaver. Konnel ended by explaining that one of their number had been given the task of being custodian of the piece of the artifact that they had stolen. He gave no names, for he felt that his associates’ secrets were not his to confide, but could that be you, Ohent? I remember a young woman who looked something like you.”
Ohent nodded. “Me. Custodian Crazy, Keeper of the tiny bird that serves as Ba Djed’s cap.”
Nefnet nodded. “I’d like to know why you came here, rather than just sending the Bird, especially if being the custodian has been so taxing. Yet you chose to make this journey rather than simply relinquishing your charge. It can’t just that be you don’t want to lose your stipend. I would have asked sooner, but you were rather—stressed— after your encounter with the tetzet.”
“If Sapphire Wind can wait to give its report,” Ohent said, “I will explain. It will help all of us for you to have the background.”
As they picnicked on the elaborate repast that Grunwold unpacked, Ohent told how, after they had made their escape, she and her fellow extraction agents had been at a loss for what to do with the portion of Ba Djed they had managed to steal.
“We didn’t want to hand just a part over to our client,” she explained, “because, well, I guess it was too much like admitting to failure. Better if he simply thought we never had it. Anyhow, Fardowsi had custody of the Bird first.”
“Fardowsi’s my mother,” Xerak added. “Konnel-toh may have felt uneasy about giving names, but I, for one, believe the time for such secrecy is long past.”
Ohent nodded and continued, “. . . but Inehem . . .”
“That’s my mother,” Vereez cut in, her voice sharp and bitter.
“. . . knew that Fardowsi had grabbed the Bird from the start, and so Inehem probably had at least as much contact with it. When Fardowsi began to have horrible nightmares, Konnel took custody of the Bird. I’ll admit, I thought they were all neurotic about the thing because they felt guilty about the damage to the Library.” Ohent laughed, a harsh, shrill sound. “Funny, now that I think about it. Anyhow, in time I took my turn and—Bang!—nightmares. But in the end, I accepted the job as its full-time custodian. It meant steady income, and someone had to do it.”
“Why didn’t you just throw it in the river or something?” Nefnet asked.
“Couldn’t,” Ohent said, starting to shake so hard that the copper disks sewn into her veils chimed against each other.
Kaj put a protective arm around his mother’s shoulders. “She can’t. She can’t let anyone else harm or dispose of it either. Do you think I didn’t consider tossing the blasted thing away?”
“I understand, now,” Nefnet said gently. “So the reason you came here, Ohent, was because you couldn’t be parted from the Bird.”
“That’s right,” Ohent managed. “I think my only hope for relief is to get Ba Djed put all back together again. Meanwhile, here I am, faithful to the end.”
Her tone as she spoke the last was heavy with irony.
“Maybe I can help you deal with the nightmares,” Nefnet offered. “I saw what Kaj dosed you with after your arrival here, and that’s good as far as it goes, but I may be able to brew up something as effective, and with fewer side effects.”
“Why,” Ohent asked, eyes narrowing, “would you want to? You agreed to help Konnel because Sapphire Wind made treating him a condition before it would unarchive you. What reason do you have to help me? I was a key member of the team that ruined your life!”
Nefnet wrinkled her nose, showing her teeth in an otter’s smile. “But harming anyone wasn’t your intent—Konnel made that very clear. Nor was harming anyone the intent of the person who hired your team. I was there, remember? I was one of the scholars who was working out here”—she gestured around the reception area—“when your team attempted to make your escape. Among all of the archived, I am one of maybe four who can bear witness that while your theft may have been intentional, you meant the Library and its inhabitants no harm. And you have paid . . . Twenty-five years of madness is a high price to pay because one of your colleagues panicked and set off a fireball.”
“Very generous of you,” Ohent said grudgingly. “I will definitely discuss accepting your offer with my son.”
Emsehu, now more or less dust free, had shared the lunch, even to lapping up tea from a shallow bowl Nefnet apparently reserved for the purpose. He had listened without comment to Ohent’s version of past events. Doubtless he already had heard Konnel’s version, so nothing but Ohent’s particular slant would be new to him.
But I wonder how Emsehu feels, Teg thought, learning that the extraction agents he—well, his prior self—hired to steal Ba Djed for him not only failed, but that they kept part of the artifact that he had wanted the most? Well, Emsehu himself is the first to admit that his near death and transformation into a unique monstrosity changed more than his appearance. Still, although he showed no antagonism to Konnel, Konnel didn’t have a bond to one part of Ba Djed. Best not to forget that, at least once upon a time, Emsehu had a horse in this race.
At this moment, doubtless at a prompt from Sapphire Wind, Emsehu made a sort of grumbly throat-clearing noise. “If everyone is ready now, Sapphire Wind would like to give a report.”
Nods and murmurs assured him that everyone was ready, and when next Emsehu spoke, his voice held the whispery notes and slightly stilted cadence they had come to associate with Sapphire Wind’s manner of speech.
“Although the presence of two thirds of Ba Djed has been useful, their mere proximity has not been sufficient for me to establish where the third part—the Nest—may be. We have not yet put the pieces together, in part because the Bird usually rests upon the Nest, but I believe that fitting them together would be the next logical step.”
“It makes sense to me,” Xerak said. “Ohent, will you cooperate?”
Ohent, calmer now, replied, “As long as it isn’t overlooked that my price for cooperating is that my granddaughter—Vereez and Kaj’s offspring—be located and, if she is any way unhappy with her situation, she be given to me to be cared for.”
“As long as you remember,” Vereez shot back, “that I don’t want to be shut out of my daughter’s life all over again, you can be assured, we’ve not forgotten.”
“Then very well,” Ohent replied with mocking placidity. “Sapphire Wind, what do you want us to do?”
Emsehu spoke for the genius loci. “Xerak, take out the Spindle and set it upright on the table. Ohent will then thread the Bird onto the top.”
“A moment,” Xerak said.
From one of his belt pouches, he took out a pair of tightly woven gloves and pulled them on. Removing the enshrouding container from another pouch, he placed it before him, then pressed gently down on several of the glyphs carved into its surface. There was a faint click, and the lid popped open. Using tweezers, Xerak removed the Spindle—a highly polished piece of bronze about the same size and dimension as one of the miniature candles used for birthday cakes—and set it on the table. It wobbled, just a little, then seemed to latch hold.
As if the base was magnetized, Teg thought, although I can’t think of what would attract metal and wood.
Accepting Xerak’s mute offer of another pair of gloves, Ohent then opened the enshrouding container that held her part, revealing it for the first time: a minute songbird crafted from bronze, every feather perfect. With meticulous care, she threaded it onto the Spindle.
Unlike Xerak, Ohent did not let go of her piece, resting the pad of her gloved index finger lightly on the top of the Bird’s head. Sapphire Wind did not protest, but Teg wondered if it was only paranoia that made her see a flicker of annoyance cross Emsehu’s face. Certainly, the expression of concentration that followed was real. The crocodilian brow furrowed, the scaly hide creased around eyes and mouth, as first a spark, then a sparkle, then a swirling that melded these tiny lights into a deep-blue opaque mass took form.
The dark-blue mass spun like clay on a potter’s wheel, first formless, then rising to take a rounded shape, then rising and falling as details were sculpted, until the whole approximated the missing portion of Ba Djed that they had glimpsed in that initial vision in the Font of Sight. The only difference was that the missing Nest, which in the vision had appeared to be crafted of some matte-black stone highlighted with bronze, was all sapphire and sparkle.
Various sounds of astonishment only made the overall stillness that had fallen over their normally chattering crew more striking. No one asked Sapphire Wind any questions, since the genius loci’s concentration was palpable. Then, without a word, blue opacity once again became sparks, sparks faded, and all that was left was the bronze Bird perched atop the bronze Spindle.
Without waiting for permission or direction, Ohent quickly unthreaded the Bird and dropped it back into its enshrouding container, which she snapped shut. Xerak paused a moment, but followed her example, peeling off his gloves as if to punctuate a sentence.
“What did you learn?” he asked. “I could feel something, but nothing I understood.”
He glanced at Ohent, who gave a slight shake of her head. “I’m no wizard. Even though I kept a finger on the Bird, I felt nothing. Oh! Your gloves . . .”
“Keep them,” Xerak said gruffly. “You may need them again. Sapphire Wind, what did you learn?”
“I cannot find the Nest! It is gone. No. Not gone. It is so faint I cannot tell anything but that it exists.”
Emsehu ended with a growl that might well have been his own, but might well have been meant to demonstrate Sapphire Wind’s desperation.
Vereez cut in. “Do you think it would be possible for you to find the Nest if you had more time, more access to the Bird and the Spindle?”
“I hope so. Maybe. Better than none.”
“I have a proposal then,” Vereez went on. “We already promised Ohent that we’d make looking for my daughter a priority. Xerak, are you still all right with that?”
“Unless Uten Kekui-va can be found easily, yes, I am.”
“Then here’s my idea. Ohent, you already have an offer from Nefnet that you could be treated here. How about this? You stay here at the Library with the Bird. We leave the Spindle, too. Xerak has taken care not to become bonded with it, so he shouldn’t have any trouble leaving it.”
Xerak made a sound, then waved for Vereez to keep talking. She narrowed her eyes at him, then did so.
“If Sapphire Wind can locate either my daughter or Uten Kekui-va, then we go after one or both of them. Meanwhile, Sapphire Wind can continue drawing on the Bird and Spindle to locate the third part. Whenever it has a clear direction for us to go, we keep our part of the bargain and do our best to retrieve the Nest. What do you think? Xerak, you seemed about to object.”
Xerak nodded. “A small objection. I like your plan, but I don’t think that Ohent should need to deal with two parts of Ba Djed. She’s already attuned to the Bird, and it’s possible that even if she never does more than touch the enshrouding container holding the Spindle, she could be affected. I suggest we ask Emsehu to be in charge of it. He seems to have functioned as its guardian for many years without being affected, even with it outside of an enshrouding container.”
“That’s an idea,” Peg said caustically, with cheerful disregard for Emsehu’s feelings, “and if he gets possessive, well, we already know we can beat him if we must.”
Teg frowned. “Look, we haven’t talked about this, but Emsehu is or was or whatever, the person who hired the extraction agents in the first place. How do we know he won’t go after both the Bird and the Spindle?”
“I won’t go after them,” Emsehu said. “I am a different person. Then I was the misguided son of Dmen Qeres. Now I am first and foremost, down to my very blood and bones, a guardian creature of the Library of the Sapphire Wind. I have no desire beyond seeing the Library preserved and, if possible, restored. My instincts tell me that while Ba Djed of the Weaver may have provided extra mana for Sapphire Wind to draw upon, the artifact was not in and of itself a part of the Library’s collection. It is difficult to explain, but I assure you, I do not want it. I would guard the Spindle and, upon your request, I would return it. It would be as if, in the days of the Library’s greatness, you had loaned an item to the collection.”
Xerak shut his eyes briefly, then opened them, looking at Emsehu in a fashion that made Teg wonder if Xerak was bringing magic into play or only the sense for the motives of others he must have learned during the year he had wandered in search of Uten Kekui.
Grunwold shrugged. “You two have my backing and Slicewind’s sails to carry you wherever your inquisitions take you. And the same goes for finding the last piece of this Ba Djed.”
Vereez looked hopefully at Emsehu, her fox’s ears melting into almost puppyish pleading. “Don’t give up, Sapphire Wind. Help us and be assured, we won’t forget what we’ve promised you—even if we’re not successful in our own inquisitions.”
From where she had seemed to be drowsing on Nefnet’s bed, Meg spoke, “Sapphire Wind seems to be thinking. It is not like us, but I think it will understand that our priorities all lie together. Give it time.”
Eventually, Emsehu spoke for Sapphire Wind. “I think that Vereez’s plan is the best option. I did not agree to the conditions Ohent set for allowing the Bird to be brought here, but I can understand that your agreement with her on behalf of me is binding upon me as well. Even without the parts of Ba Djed linked, I believe I have the ability to scry for what you seek, Vereez, and for Xerak as well. However, if you will open the enshrouding containers and set them side by side, I would benefit.”
“Scry Xerak first,” Vereez said, surprising them all. “He’ll be a lot more help if he’s not brooding over the idea that his master is in some prison or somewhere else horrible. I don’t love what my parents did, but I can’t believe they would have done anything that would bring actual harm to their granddaughter. After all, she’s an asset, and they couldn’t be sure they’d ever have another grandling.”
Once the Spindle and the Bird had been set out on the table, Sapphire Wind became visible as a sparkling curtain draped over both of them. There was a long wait, while the sparkles glittered. Teg found herself almost mesmerized, feeling as if, if she looked intently enough, she would be able to read the sparks, like words in an almost understood language.
Eventually, Emsehu spoke for Sapphire Wind. “Xerak, I cannot find this Uten Kekui. I am sorry. You say he is a powerful wizard, so he may be able to hide himself from me, especially since I do not have the full artifact to draw upon.”
“He’s been able to hide from me,” Xerak said with soft intensity. “Maybe he’s hiding on purpose. What can you find out for Vereez?”
Sapphire Wind replied, “Vereez, give Emsehu your hand. You connect the one you seek with those who have hidden her.”
Vereez eagerly grasped Emsehu’s armored and heavily clawed hand in her own much more slender, more delicate, clawed appendage. The contrast between Vereez’s fox-paw black and Emsehu’s crocodilian green reminded Teg once again how many shapes intelligent life took here, and how little shape or color mattered to these people.
Emsehu’s smile managed to be warm and reassuring, despite being full of horrifically pointed teeth. “Ah . . . Yes. This helps. Wait. Wait.”
This time the blue sparkles connected the pieces of Ba Djed and the linked hands. Teg was reminded of the long sparks cast by a Fourth of July sparkler, and somehow the similarity made her feel hopeful.
The sparks faded and, again, Emsehu spoke for Sapphire Wind.
“You will find the child in the sea-surrounded nation called the Creator’s Visage Isles, on the island named Sky Descry. She is called Brunni, which is a common enough name, but you should know her by her resemblance to . . . to her grandfather.”
“Which grandfather?” Vereez asked urgently. “My father or Kaj’s?”
Emsehu blinked, then shook himself so hard that his tail lashed against the floor. “I’m sorry. I don’t know. Sapphire Wind doesn’t know. This was less a vision than as if we were tapping a river of knowledge and were shunted out. Still, it shouldn’t be that difficult, right? The population of the Creator’s Visage Isles is relatively small. The language is different, so Brunni’s name would be exotic there. You know what your father looks like and Kaj’s?”
There was an uncomfortable silence during which Ohent occupied herself with tucking away the enshrouding container holding the Bird wherever within the folds of her veils she kept it. When it became clear she wasn’t going to say anything, Kaj replied stiffly, “I don’t know who my father is or even whether I resemble him. My mother will not say.”
All eyes turned to Ohent who gave a deep sigh and shrugged deeper into her veils. “So Kaj isn’t the only one in the family who has screwed around. I, at least, had more excuse than he does. In the early days of my custodianship, I discovered that a lover sleeping close by would help keep the nightmares away. I had so many I really can’t be sure who Kaj’s father is. Kaj doesn’t believe me, but that’s the truth.”
“Still,” Peg said with forced brightness, “we have the child’s name and age, a fifty percent chance of knowing what she will look like, and a location. What could be simpler?”
“Well,” Grunwold said, “it would be simpler if the Creator’s Visage Isles weren’t practically on the other side of the world.”