Lirael_ Daughter Of The Clayr Part 3

Off the main spiral, there were countless other corridors, rooms, halls, and strange chambers. Many were full of the Clayr's written records, mainly doc.u.menting the prophesies and visions of many generations of seers. But they also contained books and papers from all over the Kingdom. Books of magic and mystery, knowledge both ancient and new. Scrolls, maps, spells, recipes, inventories, stories, true tales, and Charter knew what else.

In addition to all these written works, the Great Library also housed other things. There were old armories within it, containing weapons and armor that had not been used for centuries but still stayed bright and new. There were rooms full of odd paraphernalia that no one now knew how to use. There were chambers where dressmakers' dummies stood fully clothed, displaying the fas.h.i.+ons of bygone Clayr or the wildly different costumes of the barbaric North. There were greenhouses tended by sendings, with Charter marks for light as bright as the sun. There were rooms of total darkness, swallowing up the light and anyone foolish enough to enter unprepared.

Lirael had seen some of the Library, on carefully escorted excursions with the rest of her year gathering. She had always hankered to enter the doors they pa.s.sed, to step across the red rope barriers that marked corridors or tunnels where only authorized librarians might pa.s.s.

"Why do you want to work there?" asked Sanar.

"It-it's interesting," stammered Lirael, uncertain how she should reply. She didn't want to admit that the Library would be the best place to hide away from other Clayr. And in the back of her mind, she hadn't forgotten that in the Library she might find a spell to painlessly end her life. Not now, of course, now she knew that the Sight might come. But later, if she grew older and older without the Sight and the black despair welled up again inside her, as it had done earlier today.

"It is interesting," replied Sanar. "But there are dangerous things and dangerous knowledge in the Library, too. Does that bother you?"

"I don't know," said Lirael, honestly. "It would depend on what it was. But I really would like to work there." She paused and then said in a very low voice, "I do want to be busy, as you said, and forget about not having the Sight."

The Clayr turned away from Lirael then, and gathered together in a tight circle that excluded her, speaking in whispers. Lirael watched anxiously, aware that something momentous was going to happen to her life. The day had been horrible, but now she had hope again.

The Clayr stopped whispering. Lirael looked at them through the fall of her hair, glad that it hid her face. She didn't want them to see how badly she wanted them to let her work.

"Since it is your birthday," said Sanar, "and because we believe it will be best, we have decided that we will put you to work as you ask, in the Great Library. You should report there tomorrow morning, to Vancelle, the Chief Librarian. Unless she finds you unsuitable for some reason, you will become a Third a.s.sistant Librarian."

"Thank you," cried Lirael. It came out as a croak, so she had to say it again. "Thank you."

"There is one more thing," said Sanar, and she came and stood so close that Lirael had to look up and meet her eyes. "You heard talk today that you should not have heard. Indeed, you have seen a visit that did not take place. The stability of a Kingdom is a fragile thing, Lirael, and easily upset. Sabriel and Touchstone would not speak so freely elsewhere, or to a different audience."

"I won't say anything to anyone," said Lirael. "I don't talk, really."

"You won't remember," said Ryelle, who had moved around behind her. She gently released the spell she'd held ready, cupped in her hand. Before Lirael could even think about countering it, a chain of bright Charter marks fell over her head, gripping her at the temples.

"At least not until you need to remember," continued Ryelle. "You will recall everything you have done today, save the visit of Sabriel and Touchstone. That memory will be gone, replaced by a walk on the terrace, and a chance meeting with us here. You seemed troubled, so we talked of work and the gaining of the Sight. That is how you gained your new post, Lirael. You will remember that, and no more."

"Yes," replied Lirael, words rolling off her lips so slowly that she seemed to be drunk or incredibly tired. "The Library. Tomorrow I report to Vancelle."

Chapter Six.

Third a.s.sistant Librarian The Chief Librarian had a large oak-paneled office, with a very long desk that was covered in books, papers, and a large bra.s.s tray with that morning's breakfast still half-eaten upon it. There was also a long, silver-bladed sword on the desk, unsheathed, with its hilt close to the Librarian's hand. had a large oak-paneled office, with a very long desk that was covered in books, papers, and a large bra.s.s tray with that morning's breakfast still half-eaten upon it. There was also a long, silver-bladed sword on the desk, unsheathed, with its hilt close to the Librarian's hand.

Lirael stood in front of the desk, her head bowed, as Vancelle read the note the girl had brought from Sanar and Ryelle.

"So," said the Librarian, her deep, commanding voice making Lirael jump. "You want to be a librarian?"

"Y-yes," stammered Lirael.

"But are you suitable?" asked the Librarian. She touched the hilt of her sword, and for a moment Lirael thought Vancelle was going to pick it up and wave it around, to see if it frightened her.

Lirael was already frightened. The Librarian scared her, even without the sword. Her face gave away no feelings, and she moved with an economy of force, as if she might at any moment explode into violent action.

"Are you suitable?" asked the Librarian.

"Um, I don't . . . I don't know," whispered Lirael.

The Librarian came out from behind her desk, so swiftly that Lirael wasn't sure if she'd blinked and missed the motion.

Vancelle was only slightly taller than Lirael, but she seemed to loom over the young girl. Her eyes were bright blue, and her hair was a soft, s.h.i.+ning grey, like the finest ash left from a cooling fire. She wore many rings on her fingers, and on her left wrist there was a silver bracelet set with seven sparkling emeralds and nine rubies. It was impossible to guess her age.

Lirael trembled as the Librarian reached out and touched the Charter mark on her forehead. She felt it flare, warm on her skin, and saw the light reflected in the Librarian's bejeweled rings and bracelet.

Whatever the Librarian felt in Lirael's Charter mark, no sign of it showed upon her face. She withdrew her hand and walked back behind her desk. Once again, she touched the hilt of her sword.

"We have never taken on a librarian whom we haven't already Seen as being a librarian," she said, tilting her head, like someone puzzling over how to hang a painting. "But no one has ever Seen you at all, have they?"

Lirael felt her mouth dry up. Unable to speak, she nodded. She felt the sudden opportunity that had been granted her slipping away. The reprieve, the chance of work, of being someone- "So you are a mystery," continued the Librarian. "But there is no better place for mystery than the Great Library of the Clayr-and it is better to be a librarian than part of the collection."

For a moment, Lirael didn't understand. Then hope blossomed in her again, and she found her voice. "You mean . . . you mean I am suitable?"

"Yes," said Vancelle, Chief Librarian of the Great Library of the Clayr. "You are suitable, and you may begin at once. Deputy Librarian Ness will tell you what to do."

Lirael left in a daze of happiness. She had survived the ordeal. She had been accepted. She was going to be a librarian!

Deputy Librarian Ness merely sniffed at Lirael and sent her to First a.s.sistant Librarian Roslin, who kissed her absently on the cheek and sent her to Second a.s.sistant Librarian Ims.h.i.+, who was only twenty and not long promoted from the yellow silk waistcoat of a Third a.s.sistant to the red of a Second.

Ims.h.i.+ took Lirael to the Robing Room, a huge room full of all the equipment, weapons, and miscellaneous items the librarians needed, from climbing ropes to boathooks. And dozens and dozens of the special Library waistcoats, all in different sizes and colors.

"Third a.s.sistant's yellow, Second a.s.sistant's red, First a.s.sistant's blue, Deputy is white, and the Chief wears black," explained Ims.h.i.+, as she helped Lirael put on a brand-new yellow waistcoat over her working clothes. "Heavier than it looks, isn't it? That's because it's actually canvas, covered in silk. Much tougher that way. Now, this whistle clips on the lapel loops here, so you can bend your head and blow into it, even if something's holding your arms. But you should whistle only if you really need help. If you hear a whistle, run towards the sound and do whatever you can to help."

Lirael took the whistle, which was a simple bra.s.s pipe, and put it through the special lapel loops as instructed. As Ims.h.i.+ had said, she could easily blow into it just by lowering her head. But what did Ims.h.i.+ mean? What might be holding her arms?

"Of course, the whistle's good only when someone can hear it," continued Ims.h.i.+, handing Lirael something that at first glance looked like a silver ball. She indicated that it should be placed in the front left pocket of her new waistcoat. "That's why you have the mouse. It's part clockwork, so you have to remember to wind it once a month, and the spell has to be renewed every year at Midsummer."

Lirael looked at the small silver object. It was a mouse with little mechanical legs, two bright chips of ruby for eyes, and a small key in its back. She could feel the warmth of a Charter-spell lying dormant inside it. She supposed that this would activate the clockwork mechanism at the right time and send it wherever it was supposed to go.

"What's it do?" Lirael asked, surprising Ims.h.i.+ a little. The younger girl hadn't spoken since they'd been introduced, and had stood there with her hair hanging over her face the whole time. Ims.h.i.+ had already written her off as one of the Chief's eccentric recruitment decisions, but perhaps there was still hope. She sounded interested, anyway.

"It gets help," replied Ims.h.i.+. "If you're in the Old Levels or somewhere you don't think anyone will hear the whistle, put the mouse on the ground and speak or draw the activating mark, which I'll show you in a moment. Once it's activated, it'll run to the Reading Room and sound the alarm."

Lirael nodded and flicked back her hair to study the mouse more closely, running her finger over its silver back. When Ims.h.i.+ started to thumb through an index of Charter marks, Lirael shook her head and put the mouse in its special pocket.

"I know the mark, thanks," she said quietly. "I felt it in the spell."

"Really?" asked Ims.h.i.+, surprised again. "You must be good. I can hardly manage to light a candle, or warm my toes out on the glacier."

But you have the Sight, thought Lirael. You are a real Clayr.

"Anyway, you have the whistle and the mouse," said Ims.h.i.+, getting back to her task. "Here's your belt and scabbard, and I'll just see which dagger is sharpest. Ow! That'll do, I think. Now we have to put the number in the book, and you have to sign for everything."

Lirael buckled on the broad leather belt and settled the scabbard against her hip and thigh. The dagger that went into it was as long as her forearm, with a thin, sharp blade. It was steel but had been washed in silver, and there were Charter marks on the blade. Lirael touched them lightly with her finger, to see what they were supposed to do. They warmed under her touch, and she recognized them as marks of breaking and unraveling, especially useful against Free Magic creatures. They had been put there some twenty years ago, replacing older marks that had worn out. These too would last only another ten years or so, as they had not been placed with any great power or skill. Lirael thought she could possibly do better herself, though she wasn't particularly adept at working magic on inanimate objects.

Lirael looked up from the dagger and saw Ims.h.i.+ waiting expectantly, a quill in her hand, hovering above the huge leather-bound ledger that was chained to the desk at the front of the Robing Room.

"The number," said Ims.h.i.+. "On the blade."

"Oh," said Lirael. She angled the blade till the Charter marks faded out and she could see the bare metal, and the letter and number etched there by conventional means.

"L2713," Lirael called out; then she slid the dagger home into the scabbard. Ims.h.i.+ wrote the number down, re-inked the quill, and pa.s.sed it to Lirael to sign.

There in the ledger, in between ruled lines of red ink, was Lirael's name, the date, her position as Third a.s.sistant Librarian, and a list of all the things she'd been given, neatly written by Ims.h.i.+. Lirael scanned the list, but didn't sign.

"It says a key, here," she said cautiously, tipping up the quill so an incipient blob of ink didn't fall on the paper.

"Oh, a key!" exclaimed Ims.h.i.+. "I wrote it down and then I forgot!"

She went over to one of the cupboards on the wall, opened it, and rummaged around inside. Finally, she pulled out a broad silver bracelet set with emeralds, the match of the one on her own wrist. Unlocking it, she clasped it around Lirael's right wrist.

"You'll have to go back to the Chief to have the spell in-side woken up," explained Ims.h.i.+, showing Lirael how two of the seven emeralds on her own bracelet swarmed with bright Charter marks. "Depending on your work and post, it will then open all the appropriate doors."

"Thanks," said Lirael briefly. She could feel the spell in the silver, Charter marks hiding deep within the metal, waiting to flow into the emeralds. There were actually seven spells, she could tell, one for each emerald. But she didn't know how they could be brought to the surface and made to work. This particular magic was beyond her.

Nor was she much wiser ten minutes later, when Vancelle took her wrist and quickly cast a spell that neither was spoken nor had any other obvious marks, signed or drawn. Whatever it was, the spell lit up only one emerald, leaving the other six dark. That, said Vancelle, was enough to open the common doors, which was more than enough for a new Third a.s.sistant Librarian.

It took Lirael three months to work out how to wake the next four spells in her bracelet, though the secret of the sixth and seventh remained beyond her. But she didn't wake the extra spells at once, taking another month to create an illusion of the bracelet as it was supposed to be, that would sit over her own and hide the glow of the additional emeralds.

It was mainly curiosity that set her to working out the key spells. Originally she didn't plan to wake them, and intended to treat her discovery purely as an intellectual exercise. But there were so many interesting doors, hatches, gates, grilles, and locks that she couldn't help but wonder what was behind them. Once the spells in the bracelet were active, she found it very difficult not to think of using them.

Her daily work also led her into temptation. While there were Charter sendings to do much of the manual labor, ferrying materials to and from the Main Reading Room and the individual studies of scholars, all the checking, recording, and indexing was done by people. Generally, the junior librarians. There were also very special or dangerous items that had to be fetched in person, or even by large parties of armed librarians. Not that Lirael got to go on any of these exciting expeditions to the Old Levels. Nor would she, till she attained the red waistcoat of a Second a.s.sistant, which usually took at least three years.

But in the course of her regular duties, she often pa.s.sed interesting-looking corridors sealed off with red rope, or doors that beckoned to her, almost saying, "How can you walk past me every day and not want to go in?"

Without exception, any vaguely interesting portal was locked, beyond the original key spell and the sole glowing emerald of Lirael's bracelet.

Aside from the inaccessibility of the interesting parts, the Great Library met most of Lirael's hopes. She was given a small study of her own. Barely wider than her outstretched arms, it contained nothing but a narrow desk, a chair, and several shelves. But it was a refuge, somewhere she would be left alone, secure from Aunt Kirrith's intrusions. It was meant for quiet study, in Lirael's case, of the set texts of the beginning librarian: The Librarian's Rules, Basic Bibliography, and The Large Yellow Book: Simple Spells for Third a.s.sistant Librarians. It had taken her only a month to learn everything she needed to from those volumes.

So she quietly "borrowed" any book she could get her hands on, like The Black Book of Bibliomancy, carelessly left off a returning list by a Deputy Librarian. And she spent a great deal of time a.n.a.lyzing the spells in her bracelet, slowly finding her way through the complex chains of Charter marks to find the activating symbols.

Lirael had been driven by curiosity at first, and by the sense of satisfaction she gained from working out magic that was supposed to be beyond her. But somewhere along the way, Lirael realized that she enjoyed learning Charter Magic for its own sake. And when she was learning marks and putting them together into spells, she completely forgot about her troubles and forgot about not having the Sight.

Learning to be a real Charter Mage also gave her something to do, when all the other librarians or her fellows from the Hall of Youth were engaged in more social activities.

The other librarians, particularly the dozen or so Third a.s.sistants, had tried to be friendly at first. But they were all older than Lirael, and they all had the Sight. Lirael felt she had nothing to talk about or share with them, so she stayed silent, hiding behind her hair. After a while, they stopped inviting her to sit with them at lunch, or to play a game of tabore in the afternoon, or to gossip about their elders over sweet wine in the evening.

So Lirael was once again alone among company. She told herself that she preferred it, but she couldn't deny the pang in her heart when she saw laughing groups of young Clayr, so effortlessly talking and enjoying one another's friends.h.i.+p.

It was even worse when whole groups were called to join the Nine Day Watch, as happened more and more frequently during Lirael's first few months of work. Lirael would be stacking books in the Reading Room, or writing in one of the registers, when a Watch messenger would come in, bearing the ivory tokens that summoned the recipient to the Observatory. Sometimes dozens of the Clayr in the huge, domed Reading Room would each receive a token. They would smile, curse, grimace, or take it stoically; then there would be a flurry of activity as they all stopped work, drawing back their chairs, locking away books and papers in their desk drawers, or returning them to shelves or sorting tables before trooping out the doors en ma.s.se.

At first Lirael was surprised that so many were called, and she was even more surprised when some of them returned only hours or days later, instead of the usual nine days that gave the Watch its name. She initially thought it must be some peculiarity of the librarians, that so many were called at once and not for the full term. But she didn't feel like asking anyone about it, so it was some time before she got some sort of answer, when she overheard two Second a.s.sistant Librarians in the Binding Room.

"It's all very well to have a Ninety-Eight. But to go on to a Hundred and Ninety-Six and on up to yesterday's Seven Hundred and Eighty-Four is quite ridiculous," said one of the Second a.s.sistants. "I mean we did all fit in the Observatory. But now there's talk of a Fifteen Sixty-Eight! That'll be nearly everybody, I should think-and making the Watch bigger doesn't seem to make it work any better than the usual Forty-Nine. I couldn't tell the difference."

"I don't mind, myself," replied the other Second a.s.sistant as she carefully applied glue to the binding of a broken-backed book. "It makes a change from here, and at least it's over quicker with a larger Watch. But it is tedious when we have to try to focus where we can't See anything. Why don't the high-ups just admit that no one can See anything around that stupid lake and leave it at that?"

"Because it's not so simple," interrupted a stern-voiced Deputy, bearing down on them like a huge white cat on two plump mice. "All the possible futures are connected. Not being able to See where futures begin is a significant problem. You should know that, and you also should know not to talk about the business of the Watch!"

The last sentence was said with a general glare about the room. But Lirael, even half-hidden behind a huge press, felt it was particularly aimed at her. After all, everybody else in the room was a full Clayr and eligible to be a member of the Nine Day Watch.

Her cheeks burnt with embarra.s.sment and shame as she threw all her strength into turning the great bronze handles of the screw, tightening the press. Talk slowly resumed around her, but she ignored it, concentrating only on her task.

But that was the moment when she resolved to wake the dormant magic in her bracelet, and use the spell she'd made to hide the glow of the additional emeralds.

She might not be able to join the Watch in the Observatory, but she would explore the Library.

Chapter Seven.

Beyond the Doors Even after she woke the extra spells in her bracelet, Lirael found it hard to explore the areas formerly closed to her. There was always too much work, or there were too many other librarians around. After the first two heart-thumping moments of near-discovery in front of forbidden doors, Lirael decided to put off her exploration until there were fewer people around or she could more easily escape from work. woke the extra spells in her bracelet, Lirael found it hard to explore the areas formerly closed to her. There was always too much work, or there were too many other librarians around. After the first two heart-thumping moments of near-discovery in front of forbidden doors, Lirael decided to put off her exploration until there were fewer people around or she could more easily escape from work.

Her first real chance came almost five months after she had donned the yellow waistcoat of a Third a.s.sistant. She was in the Reading Room, sorting books to be returned by the sendings, who gathered close around her, their ghostly, Charter-etched hands the only visible part of their shrouded forms. They were quite simple sendings, without any higher functions, but they loved their work. Lirael liked them too, because they didn't require her to speak or ask her questions. She simply gave the appropriate books to the right sending, and it would take them away to its area and the proper shelf or store.

Lirael was particularly good at recognizing which sending was which, a valuable skill since the embroidered signs on their cowled robes were often obscured with dust or had become unpicked and indecipherable. They didn't have official names, only descriptions of their responsibilities. But most had nicknames, like Tad, who was in charge of Traveler's Tales, AD, or Stoney, who looked after the geology collection.

Lirael was just giving Tad a particularly large and unwieldy volume bound in leather stamped with a three-humped camel motif when the Watch messenger arrived. Lirael didn't pay much attention to her at first, because she knew no ivory token would be given to her. Then she noticed that the messenger was stopping at every desk and speaking to every person, and a hum of whispered conversation was rising behind her. Lirael surrept.i.tiously tucked her hair behind her ears and tried to listen. At first the murmur was indistinct, but as the messenger grew closer, Lirael caught the words "Fifteen Sixty-Eight" being repeated over and over again.

For a moment she was puzzled; then she realized that this must be what the Second a.s.sistants had been talking about. The calling of one thousand five hundred sixty-eight Clayr to the Watch-an unprecedented concentration of the Sight.

It would also take nearly every librarian out the Library, Lirael calculated, giving her the perfect chance for a secret excursion. For the first time ever, Lirael watched the messenger's distribution of tokens with excitement rather than with her usual depression and self-pity. Now she was wis.h.i.+ng everyone else would get summoned to the Watch. Trying not to look too obvious, Lirael even wandered around the other side of the desk to see if anyone had been missed.

No one had. Lirael found it strangely hard to breathe as she waited to see if anyone would remember to tell her to do something-or not to. But none of the librarians with whom she usually worked were here. Ims.h.i.+ was not to be seen. Lirael guessed the messenger had met her on the way and had already given her a token.

She willed them all to go and started to sort her books with a concentrated ferocity, as if she didn't care what happened around her. The sendings approved, moving faster themselves as each one took its stack of books and another moved into place.

Finally, the last bright waistcoat gleamed in the doorway and was gone. More than fifty librarians, disposed of in less than five minutes. Lirael smiled and put the last book down with a definite snap, disappointing the sending who was waiting for a full load.

Ten minutes later, to allow for stragglers, she headed down the main spiral. There was a door about a half mile down, well into the Old Levels, a particular favorite that she wanted to investigate first. It had a bright sunburst emblem upon its otherwise unremarkable wooden surface, a golden disc with rays that spread from top to bottom. Of course, there was also a red rope across it, secured at either end with wax seals bearing the book and sword symbol of the Chief Librarian.

Lirael had long since worked out how to deal with this particular annoyance. She drew a short piece of wire with two wooden handles from her waistcoat pocket and held it near her mouth. Then she spoke three Charter marks, a simple charm to heat metal. With the wire momentarily red-hot, she quickly sliced the seals away and hid them and the rope in a nearby hole in the pa.s.sage wall, away from the light.

Then came the real test. Would the door open to her bracelet, or would it need the last two spells she couldn't figure out?

Holding her wrist as she'd been taught, she waved her bracelet in front of the door. Emeralds flashed, breaking through the cloaking-spell she'd put upon them-and the door swung open without a sound.

Lirael stepped through, and the door slowly shut behind her. She found herself in a short corridor and was momentarily disoriented by the bright light at the other end. Surely this pa.s.sage couldn't lead outside? She was in the heart of the mountain, thousands of feet underground. Blinking against the light, she walked forward, one hand on the hilt of her dagger, the other one on the clockwork emergency mouse.