“Then it can wait,” I said. “Let’s see what you can do with the Librarian first.”
I shook the Merlin Glass out to full size and opened a doorway directly to the Old Library. Ammonia peered interestedly at the new view on the other side of the mirror. Rows and rows of bookshelves, under a pleasant golden glow, stretching away in all directions for as far as the eye could follow. I went through the Glass first, to reassure Ammonia, but she didn’t hold back a moment in following me through. I shut down the Glass and put it away, turned to Ammonia and found the most dangerous telepath in the world was trembling visibly.
“It’s the memories,” she said. “Every book in this place still carries the traces of everyone who ever read it. It’s like millions of voices, all shouting in my head at once. It’s taking everything I’ve got to keep them out. Your Old Library is a lot older than you realise. It doesn’t belong to your family. Droods didn’t put the Library together; you inherited it. And then you brought it here with you from the Hall before this, and the Hall before that.”
“Okay,” I said, “you’re getting into family business and family secrets you don’t need to know about. Look away, Ammonia.”
She wasn’t even listening to me, her gaze fixed on something only she could see. “So many have passed through this place, and left footprints in the sands of Time. Not all of them were human. Gods and monsters have walked these dusty ways in search of lost and forbidden knowledge.”
“Okay,” I said, “you’re pushing it now. I don’t need the dramatics.”
Ammonia shrugged easily. “All part of the service. All part of what you’re paying for. I’m fine now. I’ve got your Library’s measure. It’s really quite pleasant, now that I’ve shut out the books. I can work here. Well away from your family, I’m happy to say, off in the Hall proper.”
I looked at her. “How do you know we’re not actually in the Hall?” “Because it’s my job to know things like that. This is some kind of pocket dimension. The Hall itself is . . . that way.”
And she pointed up and to the left with complete certainty. Given that the Old Library is only lightly connected to the real world, I decided not to push the point. She might be right.
“Hello!” Ammonia said suddenly. “I’m picking up something . . . odd. There’s you and me, and your Librarian, and his assistant; but I’m also picking up another presence . . . definitely not human.”
“That’s probably Ethel,” I said. “The other-dimensional entity who lives with us. She’s always looking in.”
“The source of your family’s power, and your new armour,” said Ammonia. “I know all about Ethel. And it’s not her. I can sense her watching us from back in Drood Hall. Behind quite extraordinarily powerful shields. I have to wonder what it is she’s so desperate to hide from me . . . and you. I could find out; but that would cost you extra. But never mind about strange presences. That’s not why I’m here. Where’s the patient?”
Ioreth appeared suddenly from out of the nearest stacks, glaring at Ammonia from what he probably believed was a safe distance. He was wearing a monk’s habit, with the hood pushed back to reveal a shaved head, on which was jammed a crown very similar to the one the Armourer had given Molly. Ioreth was doing his best to stand tall and proud, but couldn’t quite bring it off. He looked more like someone desperately in need of a toilet.
“Hello! I’m Ioreth! I’m fine, thank you! I’m not thinking about anything. I’m definitely not thinking about that. Or that. I’m fine! Really.”
“Ioreth, if you don’t calm the fuck down right now, I am going to hose you from head to foot with Ritalin,” I said. “You’ve had plenty of warning about this. And I know I’m going to regret asking, but why are you dressed like a monk?”
“William says he finds it soothing,” said Ioreth. “You wouldn’t believe the number of outfits we had to go through to find one he could live with. I can tell you for a fact that he really doesn’t like sneakers. Or ties. Found that out the hard way. It was either this or a kilt, and this was less draughty. You haven’t seen my dignity, have you? I’m sure I left it around here somewhere. I’m fine! Thanks for asking.”
“And why are you wearing one of the Armourer’s brand-new psychic protection units?” I asked, gesturing at his crown. “Your torc is all you need.”
“The council insisted,” Ioreth said stiffly. “In your absence. The telepath cannot be allowed access to Drood secrets. Especially the kind you learn from reading the books in the Old Library. I know things even I don’t think I should know.”
“Like I care,” said Ammonia. “I have enough secrets. I am stuffed full of secrets. I crap secrets and piss mysteries. And as for your blessed books . . .”
She ran her fingertips roughly along the spines of the books nearest her, and I swear they winced back from her. Ioreth almost jumped out of his habit.
“Don’t touch the books! Don’t touch anything in here! We have a large number of really dangerous books here in the Old Library, and by dangerous I mean violent, possessive and occasionally homicidal. This is not a petting zoo! I use special gloves to take some of these books off the shelves, and they’re knitted personally for me by cloistered nuns from the Salvation Army sisterhood. Gloves that are actually holier than I will ever be. And even then I cross my fingers for luck.”
“You’re babbling, Ioreth,” I said.
“I know! I’m fine, very fine; I’m really very nervous. I really don’t think this is a good idea, Eddie, and I especially don’t like the way that woman is looking at me; why is she looking at me like that? Eddie, make her stop looking at me like that! William . . . is not in a good mood. And yes, I know, he rarely is, but I would have to say that today he is even more not in a good mood than usual. He doesn’t like visitors, he doesn’t like telepaths, and he very definitely doesn’t like Ammonia Vom Acht, though of course who does—sorry, I said that out loud, didn’t I? Perhaps you could bring her back some other day, Eddie, when William’s feeling more . . . receptive.”
“Neither of us is going to live that long,” I said. “It has to be now. It’s for his own good, Ioreth.”
He sniffed. “That’s what they told Joan of Arc, poor girl. All right, follow me; I’ll take you to him. But try not to make any loud noises or sudden moves. I don’t want to have to get him down from the high stacks with the boat hook again.”
He scurried off down the nearest aisle, and Ammonia and I went after him. William wasn’t far. We found him standing straight backed and stiff necked, with his back to a display of Very Restricted Books. ALL PASSES MUST BE SHOWN, said a polite sign. AND A LIST OF YOUR NEXT OF KIN. William had clearly made an effort to improve his appearance, or perhaps Ioreth had, on his behalf. His grey hair and beard had been neatly trimmed, and he was wearing a brand-new and very clean dressing gown. He was still wearing his favourite white bunny slippers, which still disturbed me, for no good reason I could put my finger on. He looked a lot older than his years, and spiritually as well as physically tired. But he held himself well, and his face was calm, if a little distracted. He looked at Ammonia with his lost eyes, as though expecting the worst but holding up bravely nonetheless.
“I’m not sure I want to be healed,” he said, speaking directly to Ammonia. “I think I prefer this me to the me I used to be. I’m not sure the old me was a very nice person.”
“Lot of my patients say that,” Ammonia said briskly. “It’s avoidance and displacement at work. Like when your toothache disappears on the way to the dentist.”
“But if I was a bad person . . .”
“Of course you were!” said Ammonia. “You were a Drood!”
“Ammonia,” I murmured. “Not really helping . . .”
“William,” said Ioreth, standing protectively close to the Librarian, “if she can help, you might not be so frightened all the time. . . .”
Ammonia moved forward to stand before William, and to his credit he didn’t flinch. She looked into his eyes.
“Interesting. I’m getting . . . absolutely nothing from him. As though he were a psychic null, like my Peter. And it’s not only his torc protecting him. Someone has placed very powerful blocks inside this man’s mind.”