Lorimal's Chalice

Part Three - The Traitor

by Jane Fletcher


Disclaimers: see Chapter 1

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Chapter 2: The List of Suspects
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        With nightfall, the air became chill, sending most folk indoors in search of warmth. The barroom at the Inn of Singing Birds was half full of middle-aged merchants and similar guilds-folk; busy but not crowded.
        It was conspicuous how everyone appeared not to notice the two young women at the rear. All eyes skipped over the corner where Jemeryl and Tevi sat. No one made any attempt to occupy the spare seats at their table. It was as if their section of the room had ceased to exist. This had to be due to Jemeryl. She had avoided making a display the black amulet on her wrist, but it was obvious that the bar-staff had informed all customers of her status. Tevi wondered what they had been told of her own situation, and how they judged her.
        Candles were set in wall-holders to light the room. Gnats swarmed in small halos around the flames. A wicker cage over the bar held two canaries, presumably to authenticate the inn's name. Their high-pitched chirps shrilled over the background hum of conversation.
        Klara eyed them with disdain. "Call that a singing bird! Why don't I give a rendition of The Good Ship..."
        "Hush." Tevi smothered Klara's head with her hand. "You're supposed to be an ordinary pet." Tevi's eyes flicked in Jemeryl's direction as she spoke.
        "Sorry. I forgot." Jemeryl apologised, with a shamefaced grin. "I've missed her. I trust she's been behaving herself?"
        "Perfectly. She always does when you're not around." Tevi said pointedly.
        "I did worry that she might be unruly. I can hardly feel her at all when I'm inside the school shields. Levannue has done a very effective job with them."
        "Levannue?"
        "One of the senior sorcerers. She's responsible for the shields."
        "One of the suspects?"
        "Yes, definitely."
        "Have you worked out who the others are?"
        Jemeryl leaned forward on the table, and rested her head at an angle against her hand. Her gaze fixed on mid-air as she collected her thoughts. "Our traitor had to be able to find out about Lorimal, recover the chalice and then work on it in secret. It lets us cut down the number of suspects. Just the requirement that they must be able to carry out unmonitored research means it has to be one of the senior sorcerers - which is what Iralin thought to start with. A junior could squeeze in the odd hour here and there, when no one was around, but it would be risky. They couldn't hide themself in a room for days on end without having to explain what they were doing."
        "How many seniors are there?" Tevi asked.
        "Seven."
        "And how do you evaluate them?"
        "Firstly there's the principal, Bramell. He can do what he likes, when he likes, without worrying about who's looking over his shoulder. On top of that, he'll know all about Lorimal. Like the three top seniors in Lyremouth, he'd have been told about her when he took the headship, so he could be on the lookout for anyone attempting to copy her work."
        "So either it's him, or he's not been doing his job."
        "My gut feeling is to go for the second option. It wouldn't be hard to pull the wool over his eyes - he lacks imagination. He clings to the rulebook like a limpet to a rock. It saves him having to make decisions. I don't think he trusts his own judgement, which is why I don't think he'd take Lorimal's chalice. He lacks the initiative and the nerve."
        "I get this odd feeling that you don't like him." Tevi's tone was dryly ironic.
        "No. I don't. He couldn't have got where he is without the ability to be a great sorcerer, but what he wants to be is a booking clerk. He's a waste of talent." Jemeryl said decisively.
        "Maybe taking the chalice is his bid to show what he can do."
        Jemeryl shook her head. "I don't see it. But to finish with him, the second most senior sorcerer is the deputy, Neame. She's also free to do whatever she wants. Bramell leaves everything to do with herbalism to her. In fact, if Bramell ever got his nose out of his ledgers, he'd realise that she's running the school, not him. At least, she's running all the things that matter. It's ridiculous that Bramell was ever promoted over her."
        "How did Bramell get chosen?"
        "It would have been a ballot of all the senior sorcerers in the Coven - a hundred or so. Most will never have met either Bramell or Neame in the flesh. Perhaps that had something to do with it - Bramell looks much more impressive from a distance."
        Tevi pursed her lips. "Might Neame be bitter and out for revenge?"
        "I don't think so. It's a purely personal view, but I like Neame. I admire her for all the same reasons that I don't admire Bramell. And she cares about people, the ordinary ungifted citizens - she really does. Her life is devoted to healing. I can't see her wanting to destroy the Protectorate."
        "Could she have found out about Lorimal?"
        "Possibly." Jemeryl conceded. "All the information about Lorimal should have been removed from the main library, but there's a restricted section where information is kept about forbidden or highly dangerous spells. It may well have something about Lorimal in there."
        "Neame has access to this area?"
        "Yes - as do Bramell and Moragar the librarian."
        "Is Moragar our third suspect?"
        Jemeryl nodded. "He doesn't have the same degree of freedom as Bramell and Neame, but he's superbly placed to read up on anything that catches his attention. And if he wants to spend hours alone in the library after it has closed at night..." Jemeryl shrugged to emphasise the point, "who's going to question it? Against him as a suspect is the fact that he only became chief librarian two and a half years ago, which was a few months after the chalice was taken. Before that, he was deputy to the previous librarian. He shouldn't have had access to the restricted books - but as we all know..."
        "The mate often has more idea of what's going on than the captain." Tevi finished the sentence.
        "True, although what I'd been going to say was that rules tend to get broken."
        Whatever Tevi might have added was lost in a loud burst of laughter from a nearby table. The sound dropped to an embarrassed murmur as soon as Jemeryl twisted her head to look. The group of five merchants who had caused the commotion all fixed their eyes on the tabletop. A bemused frown was on Jemeryl's face when she turned back.
        "Why do ungifted people assume sorcerers are offended by good humour?"
        "Perhaps they're frightened you'll think they're laughing at you."
        "I'm not that paranoid." Jemeryl said. "What is there about me to laugh at?"
        Klara's beak opened a fraction. Tevi forestalled any comments with an admonishing finger, but a grin spread across her face. It took little to imagine what Klara would have done with a gift of a remark like Jemeryl's last.
        The diversion did not last long. Tevi's thoughts reverted to the list of suspects. "Who else might have taken the chalice?"
        "I guess Orrago is next in seniority. She used to be principal of the school, so she'll know all about Lorimal, but she's not a serious suspect. Sorcerers don't generally retire - we usually patch ourselves together and die on our feet. However, Orrago developed a bad case of senile dementia. That's why she had to give up the headship. From our point of view it also means she's no longer capable of anything as complex as retrieving information from a memory chalice."
        "Unless her mental state is due to taking some of Lorimal's plant potion."
        Jemeryl looked thoughtful. "Nobody's mentioned her talking to the geraniums, but I guess it's possible."
        "How about the one you referred to first - Levannue?"
        "Yes." Jemeryl's tone picked up. "I think she's a better suspect. She's in charge of non-medicinal herbalism and psychic studies. She has her own building at the edge of the hospital and a free hand to research whatever she fancies. Actually, her work is so specialised that most other sorcerers wouldn't understand what she's doing, even if she tried to talk them through it. She doesn't have access to the restricted books, but she's been Bramell's partner for years. They have three grown-up children living in Ekranos, and a couple of grandchildren as well. Maybe Bramell has told her something."
        "Or perhaps he talks in his sleep." Tevi suggested.
        "I can't help thinking that if Bramell talks in his sleep, he'd be reciting the regulations concerning the maintenance of school property."
        "Really? Do all sorcerers do that? I'd thought it was just a strange quirk of yours."
        "Don't be silly. I'm sure I have far more interesting things to say." Jemeryl grinned.
        "Well, maybe." Tevi pursed her lips. "You've got two more senior sorcerer's to go. Who are they?"
        "One is master of apprentices, Uwien. I don't think he's a likely candidate since he's held the post for less than a year. Before that, he ran the apprentice school at Denbury; which is about as far from Ekranos as you can get without leaving the Protectorate. Gilliart didn't think Denbury was likely to be the source of the trouble. But even if Uwien got the chalice, he'd have no time to work on it. Keeping on top of the apprentices is a full time job. I don't think he ever sits down, apart from mealtimes."
        "We can't reject him. Maybe Denbury was overlooked too readily in the past, and something was missed when they suppressed the information on Lorimal."
        "A good point. But the last senior is a definite non-suspect. Roddis is head of admin, and she's a senior in name only. She doesn't even have her own private office. Administration used to be Bramell's post and he's never let go. It would take a crowbar to separate him from his records. He double-checks everything Roddis does. She couldn't get away with an overdue library book, let alone researching into forbidden lore."
        "That completes the list?" Tevi asked.
        "That completes the list." Jemeryl confirmed.
        Tevi leaned back in her chair and let her eyes roam around the bar. While they had been talking, the number of people present had dwindled. The candles on the walls had burned low; some had flickered out. In the subdued atmosphere even the canaries were quiet. Klara had fallen asleep on the table, balanced on one leg. Tevi finished her drink and put the tankard down. She idly nudged it back and forth with her forefingers, until the base lined up with two knots on the wooden surface. She had only to catch the eye of the bar-staff to have the tankard refilled, free of charge (even though she would rather have paid) but she had drunk enough.
        "How do we start narrowing down the suspects?" Tevi asked.
        "A good place to start is with the theft of the chalice. There are a number of trained ravens at the school, for general use, not bound to any individual. I'll bet it was one of them that was used to take the chalice."
        "Why does the school keep them?"
        "Collecting samples. They can pick plants from hard to reach spots or be sent out if a fresh herb is required urgently. They're big birds and can lift quite a weight; in the wild they manage a rabbit without any trouble. Plus the whole crow family is particularly suited to magic." Jemeryl smiled affectionately at Klara. "A sorcerer can take over the bird; control where it goes and what it does. It's called mind-riding. However, with Levannue's shields in place a sorcerer inside the school can't mind-ride a bird outside. I'll try to find out if anyone went off with a raven for a few days at about the time when the chalice was taken; which was..." Jemeryl paused.
        "Early summer three years back." Tevi furnished the information, although Jemeryl was already well aware of the relevant date.
        "Right." Jemeryl drained the last of her drink and pushed the empty tankard away. "I've had one stroke of luck, though I'm not sure if it's good or bad. I'm sharing a study with another junior sorcerer called Vine. She's the biggest gossip in the school - manages to get her nose into everything. I might even add her to the list of suspects; if she's not found out about Lorimal's spell, it must be the only secret on site that's ever been successfully hidden from her."
        "Why don't you ask her who's taken the chalice?"
        Jemeryl laughed. "If I get desperate I just might. She could be a useful source of information. The downside is that she may spread rumours about me. I dare not let her even begin to suspect why I'm really in Ekranos. I could tell she was dying with curiosity to know who I was meeting today. I managed to avoid her questions, but it can only be for a limited time."
        "Will it cause problems if she finds out?"
        "I shouldn't think Vine personally will be bothered, but it might cause problems with Bramell. The rules aren't keen on sorcerers getting emotionally involved with the ungifted. But he'll probably learn about us sooner or later. If I'm too secretive, it will only seem as if I'm trying to hide something. Anyway he can't stop me, it counts as a private matter. He has no right to interfere."
        "Just as long as they can't stop us meeting." Tevi spoke softly. "I've missed you as well."
        Jemeryl reached out and squeezed Tevi's hand, "I know. Come on. You've got to get up early tomorrow. Let's go back to our room."
        The faint squeak as their chairs were pushed back woke Klara, who ruffled her feathers, then hopped onto Tevi's proffered wrist. Quietly, the two young women slipped out through the doorway at the rear of the bar.

* * * * * *

        Jemeryl rolled over, woken by movement beside her. The moon had long since set and the room was lost in thick darkness; only the outline of the window was visible. Dawn was not far off. A gesture called the faintest of light globes into existence, barely sufficient to distinguish the shapes around her. Tevi was sitting on the side of the bed, feeling for her discarded clothing. At the soft light, she glanced over her shoulder apologetically.
        "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I'm due at the docks in an hour, but there's no need for you to get up as well."
        "Yes there is. I can sleep in tomorrow. This will be my last chance to talk to you for nine days." As she was speaking, Jemeryl scrambled out of bed and began to pull on her clothes.
        "I don't know what there'll be for breakfast."
        "I'm sure the innkeeper will have done his best. Whatever it is will be all the better for eating it with you."
        Tevi laughed. "Now you're trying to sweet-talk me."
        "Just keeping in practice."
        There was no one about when they left their room and tiptoed downstairs, but a succession of loud snores issued from one of the common dormitories. The deep rasping bass followed them along the corridor and down the staircase at the end. Jemeryl winced at the sound. It was yet one more reason to be glad that her status as a sorcerer meant she always got private accommodation at inns. Most folk had to share a room, and even a bed, with strangers.
        The predawn air was chill in the open courtyard, and the stars were undimmed. However, it was possible to discern the faintest pale tinge to the eastern skyline. The barroom was dark and deserted when they entered. The shutters were closed and chairs were stacked on tables. A thin band of light shone from under the door to the kitchen. Jemeryl push it open and poked her head around the corner.
        In the light of an oil lamp, a boy was scrubbing the floor. Suds overflowed from a large wooden pail by his right knee. His clothes were nearly as wet as the fistful of rags he was using, and in only marginally better condition. At the faint squeak of the hinges he sprung to his feet, futilely trying to dry his hands on his soaking apron. He backed away, wide-eyed and nervous.
        His mouth opened and closed a few times before he managed to say, "You're one of the ladies wanting early breakfast?"
        "Yes please."
        "Cook's left the things out."
        Jemeryl waited a few seconds but no further information was forthcoming. In the end she gently prompted, "Where?"
        "Oh no, sit down. I'll bring it to you... ma'am."
        While he spoke, the boy's eyes kept flicking to Jemeryl's wrist. She judged that fear of sorcerers had scared him out of what few wits he had. There was little point trying to reassure him.
        She let the door swing shut and joined Tevi, who had cleared one of the tables by shunting the unwanted chairs aside. Jemeryl floated a light globe a few feet above the tabletop. It glinted off the row of clean tankards hanging from the beam above the counter and cast soft shadows in the far corners of the room.
        She pulled back a chair and sat down. "I think breakfast is on the way."
        "You sound as if you have doubts." Tevi said, stifling a yawn.
        "I wouldn't want to stake much on the abilities of our waiter for this morning."
        Despite Jemeryl's misgivings, the door to the kitchen opened shortly and the boy came out, carrying a well-laden tray. With the general demeanour of a frightened rabbit, he sidled up to their table and transferred across a basket piled high with rolls, bowls of honey and butter, an irregularly shaped lump of blue-veined cheese, two empty beakers and a large jug of warm milk. Then he turned and fled back to the kitchens.
        "What's up with him?" Tevi asked.
        "He's frightened of me."
        Klara landed on the table. "It's true that you don't look your best in the morning, but that's a bit excessive." The magpie's head swivelled in all directions, emphasising the absence of anyone who might overhear. "If you'll pardon me for murmuring."
        Tevi laughed and poured milk into the beakers. "So what's our plan of action?"
        Jemeryl broke open a roll before answering and, after a critical appraisal of the cheese, rejected it in favour of a generous spoonful of honey. "I want to make a thorough search of the library. Maybe a reference to Lorimal was overlooked or filed under an unlikely heading. It would be interesting to know if anyone's been showing an interest in your islands. I'll also check up on the ravens and see if a record is kept of who takes them off-site. If not, it will be down to Vine's memory to see if we can work out who could have sent the raven to Storenseg."
        Tevi had been less suspicious of the cheese, and had pressed a large wedge into one of the rolls. She swallowed the last of it before speaking. "Is there anything for me to do?"
        "It's a bit of a long shot, but we must remember we're not even sure the culprit is in Ekranos. One thing Iralin suggested is looking at a rare component the spell requires, made from the nectar of the bucket orchid. The drug is open to misuse, so anyone taking it is supposed to explain why they need it. If someone is working on Lorimal's spell, they couldn't openly withdraw it from the school dispensary. I'd like to see if any has gone missing. Unfortunately, I don't think we can trust Orrago's books - and not just because she's a suspect." Jemeryl looked at Tevi. "Would it be possible for you to get access to the customs' records? The nectar is very narcotic and requires a special import licence, so it will be logged. If you can make a note of how much has entered the school over the last three years, I'll see if it can all be accounted for."
        "The records are kept in an office behind the docks, not far from our guardroom. It shouldn't be too hard to get a look at the books."
        "Great."
        "There's one problem."
        Jemeryl looked up. "What?"
        "I can't read."
        Jemeryl caught her breath, surprised more by her own oversight than Tevi's admission. "No, I suppose not. I guess a lot of people can't." Literacy was widespread in the Protectorate, but far from universal - maybe as much as a third of the population could do little more than sign their own names. She raked her fingers back through her hair. "It doesn't matter. If you let Klara see the books, she can memorise them. I'll retrieve the information from her when we meet."
        The bar was still deserted. Jemeryl picked up Klara and held the magpie level with her face. For a few seconds the two of them locked eyes, and then Jemeryl carefully returned the slightly dazed bird to the tabletop.
        "She knows what she has to do. Hold the page open in front of her, say the words 'Read Klara' and she'll store the image."
        "Actually, I've just realised there's another problem with Klara. I haven't time to drop her off at the guildhall."
        "Don't worry. I'll see she gets back."
        "People will wonder if she flies in on her own."
        Jemeryl grinned "Tell them she's a homing magpie."
        "Even mercenaries aren't that gullible."
        "Then say a friend dropped her off. I can't imagine anyone checking."
        Tevi licked the traces of honey from her fingers before pulling back the shutters of the nearest window. The roofs of the buildings on the far side of the square were silhouetted sharply against the dark-blue sky. The stars were fading. She looked uncertainly at Klara, and then shrugged. "Oh well. Hopefully no one will notice. I've got to rush off now."
        A wave of cold air rippled into the room when Tevi pulled the door open. The town was emerging from darkness. A single set of footsteps echoed from a nearby street. Somewhere a shutter was flung back with a crash and the first screams of the seagulls drifted on the breeze. Jemeryl stood at the doorway to claim one last kiss, then watched as Tevi set off across the square. She stayed until the mercenary disappeared into an alley at the far side, then closed the door and looked around the tavern forlornly. Jemeryl's eyes fixed on the remains of the breakfast littering the table.
        There was plenty of time before she was due back at the school; dawn starts were not the rule for sorcerers. However, she would rather avoid the other customers and inn-staff. The creak of floorboards above announced that more people were stirring. The sound sent her hurrying back to the room she had shared with Tevi.
        She had intended to pack and be gone as soon as possible, but a pensive lethargy washed over her once she was alone in the room. She wandered about restlessly, half-heartedly picking things up. Her gaze drifted around without enthusiasm. It seemed quiet and very empty now Tevi that had gone.
        A pair of tall windows led onto a narrow balcony overlooking the square. Jemeryl abandoned the packing and leant her shoulder against the glass, feeling it cold and hard through her clothing. She stood for a long time, staring across the roofs of Ekranos, while the growing light picked out details of the School of Herbalism, perched high atop the distant cliffs.

* * * * * *

        Tevi marched through the deserted town. The sharp beat of her feet echoed between the dark houses. At a fountain where two thoroughfares crossed, she paused to splash ice-cold water over her face, watched by a pair of cats, huddled in a baker's doorway. The two sets of unblinking eyes following her curiously as she set off again.
        Cold air pinched at the wet skin on her face. Tevi pulled her jacket around her, shivering slightly, and buried her hands in the pockets. The freezing water had swept away the last traces of sleep.
        Soon she emerged onto the quay. Dawn was breaking in the first show of pink on the horizon. Tevi walked along the salt-encrusted flagstones. The light was brighter in the open. The sea was a flat grey plain. Already the dark figures of sailors were climbing in the rigging of the moored ships, readying their craft for departure on the high tide.
        A small group of her colleagues were assembled by the main customs house. Tevi quietly slipped into their ranks, while attempting to hide a yawn behind a raised hand, however it did not pass unnoticed. A string of predictable comments flew in her direction. Tevi laughed, taking the ribald teasing in good part. The senior officer arrived seconds later to instil order into the boisterous crew. After a few last jibes, the mercenaries settled down to receive their orders for the day.

* * * * * *

        The sun was just passed its zenith as Jemeryl walked under the arched portal of the library, leaving the warmth outside for the cool interior. The sudden change in temperature made her shiver slightly as she stood in the cavernous main hall and stared around. Bookshelves stretched away on all sides, like the ranks of a sculptured army. The central chamber of the hall rose through all three floors of the building. Jemeryl tipped her head back to view the windows, set high in the domed roof. Diagonal shafts of light streamed past balconies marking the upper levels.
        She strolled forward, passing between the rows of books, manuscripts and scrolls. The air still felt chill. Jemeryl imagined the building would gain in popularity during the scorching Ekranos summer, but in late spring the temperature outside was pleasant and the aisles were virtually deserted. The library was silent apart from her footsteps and a soft distant murmur.
        The bookshelves themselves were of a jumble of styles and woods; some very plain and functional, some carved with intricate designs. An ornate end panel caught Jemeryl's attention. Through the interweaving branches of a tree, a disorderly tribe of monkeys played with books, squabbling and chasing among the leaves. One large ape, squatting near the bottom, was experimentally chewing pages. Predictably, someone had scratched a name against it. Jemeryl stepped back to view the whole scene, wondering whether the carving was supposed to show the abuse of the tree of knowledge, or if the carpenter's intent had been more whimsical.
        The nearby shelves held mainly dog-eared manuscripts, yellowing with age, although the protective spells of the library kept them all intact and the ink unfaded. Jemeryl started to slide one out to read the title, but stopped. She had not come to the library for entertainment.
        It was her first free afternoon since the meeting at the Inn of Singing Birds four days before. The temptation had been to go down to Ekranos. However, Tevi was on duty at the docks until the small hours of the morning. Catching her for a snatched meeting during a meal-break was not worth risking the attention it would draw to them. Jemeryl pushed the manuscript back into place and walked on with a determined tread. If she couldn't see Tevi, then she could at least do something useful.
        The library catalogue was to be found in one of the wings leading off the main hall. Jemeryl stood at the doorway. There was not much in the small, ground-floor room. A long shelf ran down one wall. On it, a row of leather-bound index-books were neatly stacked side by side; each baring a hand-written label. At the far end was an old desk with a heavy wooden bench in front. Both items of furniture were similarly pitted and stained with age, although their characters were incongruous. The bench was simple square-cut timber; the desk was decorative, with legs carved to look like those of an overweight griffin.
        After selecting an index, Jemeryl slid between table and bench, and winced as she cracked her knee against a leg of the desk - its style was definitely ornate rather than practical. She sat, rubbing the bruise with one hand, while flipping open the pages of the book with the other.
        To the eyes of the ungifted, each page was simply a list of the items held in the library, along with notes on their contents and location. It was usable by anyone who could read. To a sorcerer, however, it marked the end of an incantation-web, where the essence of the library was mapped into normal space in the form of a sheet of paper covered with writing.
        It was an impressive feat of magic. Once done, it required only minimal maintenance. The core spells were very old; the achievement of bygone librarians, but there were some fresh patches, neat and efficient, work done by the new chief librarian. Jemeryl examined Moragar's handiwork thoughtfully, trying to gauge the abilities of her third main suspect.
        He's wasted as a herbalist, was her eventual judgement, No wonder he opted to work in the library. Jemeryl smiled wryly at herself. She was sure Moragar would be highly flattered by her commendation.
        At the back of the desk, a well-chewed quill lay beside a covered inkwell. Jemeryl pulled a sheet of scrap paper from a pocket and began to note down likely references. While she worked, an older witch wandered in behind her and began flicking through the pages of another index. The faint rustle of paper competed with the scratching of Jemeryl's pen to disturb the heavy silence of the library.

* * * * * *

        The following four hours did not produce anything of relevance, merely one dead-end after another. The seniors who had removed traces of Lorimal's spell from the library had done a very thorough job. Even her prior knowledge did not help Jemeryl discover anything prohibited. It was virtually impossible even to spot the holes in the library web where information had been withdrawn.
        The afternoon was drawing to a close. Jemeryl wandered into the last section she intended to investigate that day, a long thin room resembling a corridor, leading off the second floor balcony. The walls on both sides were lined from top to bottom with rows of hand-written manuscripts. These thin pamphlets, mostly unbound, represented the output of generations of sorcerers pursuing their own arcane interests.
        According to the index there was one junior thesis written by Lorimal herself; 'The prevention of cancerous growths and associated tumours'. It was a quite harmless report, predating her illegal work by several years. There was little likelihood it would contain any significant information - it was too obvious a source not to have been thoroughly vetted. Jemeryl's main reason was a desire to touch something Lorimal had owned, a link with the woman. She had deliberately left this until last, the most interesting part of an otherwise tedious search.
        The manuscripts were arranged, unhelpfully, by year rather than author or subject. An ungifted scholar might take hours to find a particular report. Fortunately, Jemeryl could follow the web of the index, flowing down the room and along the shelves - to a blank.
        She stopped short, staring at the point where the manuscript should be. A second, meticulous search, taking in the shelves above and below, confirmed that the book had not merely been misfiled.
        Jemeryl tried to curb her growing excitement; there were legitimate reasons why the manuscript might be missing - after all, books were there to be read. Before doing anything, she had to make sure the report had not simply been borrowed. Jemeryl pressed her hands against the sides of her face, trying to smooth her features into an expression of studious academic contemplation and returned to the central hall.
        If someone had stolen Lorimal's manuscript it would be definite evidence for the traitor's presence in Ekranos, whereas, if the manuscript had been taken for lawful purposes, the borrower would have openly declared it. The place to start was the register in which library withdrawals were recorded, kept on a lectern by the main door.
        The thick, wood-bound book lay open on a page, half covered in assorted handwriting. Sorcerers were allowed to sign out books themselves, although apprentices needed further authorisation. It took only seconds to check that none of the entries on that first page related to Lorimal's report. Jemeryl began working her way back through the records.
        Page after page turned. Jemeryl's finger traced up the column of titles. After a few minutes work Jemeryl paused and eyed the decreasing wad of pages left to search. She was almost two-thirds of the way back through the register. In the left-hand column, the issue dates were nearly a year old and there were no longer any blank spaces in the column for the date-of-return.
        Jemeryl flipped to the preceding page. Her attention was totally given to her search, so she was unaware of the brisk approaching footsteps until she was suddenly disturbed by a quiet voice.
        "Can I help you?"
        Surprise made Jemeryl jump. She was further disconcerted when she turned around to find herself face to face with the chief librarian. "Er... I was after a book, but um... someone seems to have borrowed it. I was trying to find out who."
        "Which book was it? Perhaps I can remember the borrower." Moragar said, raising a hand to his forehead as if hoping to push the memory into place.
        Seen at close quarters Moragar was both younger and shorter than expected, a squat, energetic man barely into his thirties. He was possessed of a bouncy enthusiasm seemingly incongruous with the solemn atmosphere of the library. He also had a strong Walderim accent that caught Jemeryl's ear, even as she tried to extricate herself from the situation.
        "Oh, it's not important. I can probably find another book that will do just as well."
        Jemeryl's words were dismissed with an upheld hand as Moragar stepped up to the lectern and looked at the open page. He shook his head vigorously. "Nothing is still outstanding from that far back. Have you looked in the permanent loan record?" Without waiting for a reply Moragar marched to a nearby shelf and pulled down another volume. "What's the name of the author?"
        "Please, there's no need to trouble yourself, sir." Jemeryl said, with as much innocence as she could manage. If Moragar was the guilty one, she dare not alert his suspicions by showing an interest in Lorimal.
        "It's no bother, and there's no need to call me sir. I'm not old enough to carry it off." Moragar smiled in a friendly fashion and began to leaf through the book. He looked up, waiting expectantly.
        Jemeryl had to give a title that was neither in the library or the register. She wished she could remember a book on permanent loan. Neame held several in the hospital, but nothing came to mind. Further evasion could only make things blatantly suspicious. In her most nonchalant tone Jemeryl said, "It was a manuscript by a sorcerer called Lorimal."
        "Well that's not in here." Moragar slammed the book shut and rammed it back onto its shelf. The instant anger in his voice left Jemeryl off balance, but the librarian calmed down just as quickly and reached out to pat her arm. "Don't worry, it's not you I'm annoyed at. I just hate it when books go missing, especially originals. But we have a copy if that will suffice. Come on, follow me."
        With that, Moragar bounded away down an aisle, leaving Jemeryl trailing along in his wake, slightly dazed by the librarian's lighting shifts in mood. He came to a halt by a tall bookcase at the back of the main hall. As Jemeryl reached his side a thick, green-bound volume removed itself from the top shelf and gently drifted down to land in her hands.
        "There's a verbatim transcript in there. I think it's chapter three." Moragar said.
        "Thank you." Jemeryl replied, a touch breathlessly.
        She stared at the cover, while a seed of suspicion grew. Why was Moragar so familiar with Lorimal's work? Carefully shifting her expression to one of innocence, Jemeryl raised her eyes from the plain leather binding and smiled at Moragar. "I'm very impressed. Do you know the location of every article in the library?"
        Moragar began to lead the way back to the main door. "Hardly. But that one is etched on my memory. Orrago borrowed it years ago, although she says she can't remember - poor thing. Druse was furious. He was chief librarian at the time; I was his assistant. He didn't make too much public fuss about it - he didn't want to upset Orrago, she'd only just resigned as principal, but he had me turn the entire school upside down looking for it. Strictly speaking the manuscript isn't lost, I was able to tell by dowsing that it's in the dispensary somewhere, but you could lose half the library in there. I suppose I should delete the book from the catalogue but I keep hoping it will turn up."
        By the time Moragar finished speaking, they had returned to the withdrawal register. Jemeryl entered her name and the book's title.
        "Thank you, again." she said.
        "Oh, don't mention it." Moragar's voice was casual to the point of being dismissive.
        Something about the tone jarred with Jemeryl. As she left the building, an instinct prompted her to glance back quickly. Moragar was still standing by the register, staring at her. The expression on his face was not one of idle retrospection. His forehead was knotted in thought and a hand was pressed firmly against his lips. When he saw her looking Moragar immediately spun on his heel and disappeared into the depths of the library. There was something important Moragar was not saying.

* * * * * *

        Rapid footsteps clattered on the veranda above her head as Jemeryl reached the narrow stairway. Rather than pass on the stairs, she waited at the bottom. Soon feet came into view around the corner, followed by legs and a body that turned out to belong to her study partner. A broad grin flashed across Vine's face.
        "Have you been in the library?" Vine asked as she took the last two steps with a hop.
        "Yes. But you don't get any points for soothsaying, since I'm holding a book."
        Vine smiled. "I wasn't expecting any - merely demonstrating my uncanny powers of observation. Anything exciting happening?"
        "In the library?" Jemeryl said with heavy irony. "Do you mean apart from the massed barbarian drummers and the usual wild orgy in the index room?"
        Vine's eyes sparkled with amusement. "How inconsiderate, all that banging when you're trying to read - the drumming can be distracting as well."
        Matching Vine's cheerful smile, Jemeryl shifted her weight to her right foot and leaned against a wall. She let out a deep sigh. "Actually it's been incredibly tedious. I've spent all afternoon in the library searching for some information that's not there."
        "Did you ask Moragar? He's usually helpful."
        "We did have a brief meeting."
        "What did you think of him?"
        "Like you say, he was helpful, and friendly - for a senior. He does seem quite young though."
        Vine nodded. "He is. It wasn't expected he would be promoted so soon, but Druse died unexpectedly, three years back - he was the previous librarian. We had a plague in Ekranos, you know. Someone came here for treatment and ended up passing it on to most of the school."
        "That's awful. How many people died?" There was no longer any trace of amusement in Jemeryl's voice.
        "Druse was the only sorcerer. It was surprising as he'd always been very healthy, while people like Orrago survived. I suppose you can't tell with these things. Moragar was dreadfully upset. He'd been very close to Druse, and I suspect he'd been a good bit closer than was generally realised - if you get my drift."
        "According to you, most of the people in the school have been good bit closer at one time or another."
        "They have, believe me, they have. It all gets very incestuous." Vine said emphatically. "But I've got to dash, can't stay here all day gossiping - much as I'd like to."
        Vine disappeared in the direction of the hospital, leaving Jemeryl to climb the stairs to the veranda. Sitting at her desk, she examined the cover of the book thoughtfully before flipping it open at the right page. She began reading. It was not an area of magic that interested her. It was far too reminiscent of the hospital wards. However, if the original was worth stealing, the copy must contain some clues. Jemeryl's lips pressed into a thin line at the thought - if she could only spot them.

* * * * * *

        The dim alley was not so much a thoroughfare as the space between two warehouses, too narrow for the sun's rays to reach the bottom. In the enclosed space, the harsh salty tang of the sea was laced with more fragrant scents: leather and spice and grain, seeping through the wooden slats on either side.
        The sweet smells teased Tevi's nose as she strode along the passageway. She emerged into bright sunshine at the far end, onto the wide main road leading from the port into the centre of Ekranos. There was a sudden onslaught of noise; laden carts rolled by, their wheels clattering as they jolted along the worn cobbles; drivers shouted at the draft animals; porters, sailors and merchants called to each other. Tevi paused for a second before launching herself into the melee, dodging the carts and the people for the few dozen yards to reach her final destination, the record offices belonging to the port authorities.
        Tevi stepped over the threshold. Even before the door was shut, blocking out the clamour of the street, she was aware of an atmosphere of calm, at odds with the chaos outside. Orderly rows of book and papers lined the walls, dampening any sounds. The tiled floor was swept clean. Pens, inks and sealing wax sat neatly in their holders. Nothing was out of place. The desk filling the middle of the room was large enough for a dozen people to work there comfortably, although currently the office was deserted apart from one elderly clerk; a middle-aged woman with a hard face and ink-stained hands - a single priest in this quiet shrine of bureaucracy.
        The clerk looked up at Tevi's entrance. "Can I help you?"
        "The Ruby Wand is about to depart, bound for Lyremouth. The captain needs these stamped." Tevi held out the papers.
        "You'll have to wait. The administrator has been called out. He should be back in a minute or two. Take a seat if you want." The clerk gestured at a stool and turned back to her work.
        Tevi chose to ignore the offer and instead paced the length of the room, considering the stacked bookshelves. It was the third time she had been inside the office. She knew the information Jemeryl wanted was there, but how to find it? Klara would not be able to remember every page, even if there were time to hold each one open in turn. Tevi glanced at the grey head bent over the desk. The clerk must know exactly where to look. It wouldn't do to ask her directly, but there might be other ways.
        "It must be wonderful - being able to read and write." Tevi said.
        "It's a valuable skill." the clerk conceded, without looking up.
        "Not needing to rely on memory. You can just write something down, then go back years later and see exactly what it was - the very words. I mean, you can do that, can't you?" Tevi put on her best display of naive innocence. It wasn't hard; the idea of writing left her totally in awe.
        The clerk was clearly torn between irritation and amusement. In the end, the latter won out. She lay down her pen, sat back and nodded. "That's the general idea."
        "Is it hard to learn?" Tevi asked.
        "It takes perseverance and aptitude."
        "Then you can write down anything at all?"
        "If you can say it, you can write it."
        Tevi shaped her lips into a soundless whistle. "Amazing. And you record all the shipments and taxes here?"
        "That's our job."
        "So if someone wanted to know... oh, for example..." Tevi stared at the ceiling and snapped her fingers, as if picking an item at random. "How much nectar of the bucket orchid had arrived in the last three years. Could you tell them?"
        "That would be an easy one. The nectar requires a special licence. Only the sorcerers at the school are allowed to import it." The clerk pointed to a thin book. "It will all be logged in there."
        Tevi took down the book reverently and stared at its cover, while trying to disguise her delight. One thin book was a far more feasible task for Klara - but more was to come.
        The elderly clerk beckoned Tevi over and took the book. She flipped it open with deft fingers. "There. That's the page we'd want. All you'd have to do is tally up the numbers in this column. Of course, you'd need to be able to add well as read."
        The patronising tone might have stung, had Tevi not been feeling more than a little smug herself - anyway, she was sure the clerk was trying to be friendly.
        Tevi lifted the open book from the desk, and strolled back down the room while counting the pages. There would be no problem finding the records again. The clerk returned to her work, her face making it plain she felt she had been generous enough with her time.
        Tevi did not have long to wait in silence, the book was scarcely on the shelf when there was a rattle of the door-latch and the administrator stepped into the office.
        "Sir. The Ruby Wand is about to sail for Lyremouth. The captain's needs these to be stamped." Hastily Tevi scooped the papers from the desk and presented them.
        The administrator studied the sheets while walking over to one end of the desk. With a nod, he picked up the candle and wax; the seal itself hung on a chain from his belt. In short order, the papers received their wax imprint and Tevi was out in the sunshine, heading back to the quay.
        There was no longer the need to conceal her sense of triumph. A broad smile lit her face. She had been more successful than she had dared hope. All that remained now was to return with Klara one night when the office was empty.

Continued in Chapter 3.


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