A Princess of Landover

And she told him what that something was.

She positioned herself just back from the hole in the library wall in the shadow of the Stacks where she could work her magic without risking a direct encounter with the Throg Monkeys. They came by regularly, sometimes in twos and threes, but mostly alone, carrying one or two books toward the hole to take down into Abaddon. They seemed absorbed in their work, eyes fixed on the way forward and wicked little faces set in a permanent grimace. They all looked pretty much the same, so she couldn’t be sure at first which ones she had spoken to already and which ones she hadn’t. In the end, she just kept speaking to them all, not trying to make a distinction, but just trying to make sure she didn’t miss anyone.

They didn’t know she was there. All they saw was the looming figure of His Eminence deep in the shadows, his voice a dark, booming whisper in the silence.

“Stop where you are! What are you doing? You are going in the wrong direction! The books are supposed to come out of Abaddon and back into the Stacks! Turn around and take that book back where you found it. Then go down the steps and bring out the rest! Replace each one you remove with a book from the shelving section directly across the aisle from me—there, behind you. Look for the ones with the words magic and conjuring and sorcery in the titles. Spread the books you carry out of the tunnel all over the shelving units of the Stacks so that they aren’t all in one place. Hide them, if you can. Work day and night until the task is finished. Do not speak of this to anyone, especially the demons! Do not let the demons find out what you are doing! Distract them so that they do not see. Do what I say! Do it now!”

This pronouncement was accompanied by a small spell that induced a feeling of confusion and a desire to make up for it by doing exactly what was being asked. She allowed each recipient of her spell a glimpse of His Eminence’s face, wreathed in displeasure and impatience, a further inducement to act swiftly. Each Throg Monkey left hurriedly to carry out her instructions.

It was child’s play, really—one of the easiest spells she had learned in her time studying with Questor, a spell that was effective in part because those affected were almost always on the verge of confusion and uncertainty to start with and were quite prepared to believe that they were doing something wrong. She didn’t know anything about Throg Monkeys, but she had a feeling that His Eminence would value obedience over independent thought in a situation like this. Or, to put it another way, matter over mind.

The books she was sending down into the tunnel as replacements for the real books of magic were farming volumes with the titles altered. Unless a close inspection was conducted, no one would know they weren’t what they appeared to be. By the time the truth was discovered, she hoped to have all the real books of magic back on the shelves of Libiris. It was the old sleight-of-hand trick, and there was no reason to think it wouldn’t work here.

She stayed at it for most of the night. She quit finally when she no longer saw any of the Throg Monkeys emerging from Abaddon without carrying books. She had reversed the flow of traffic, which was the best she could do for now. It would all work out as long as the demons didn’t catch on. She would come again tomorrow night to see how matters were progressing.

Leaving Edgewood Dirk at her bedroom doorway, having extracted his rather indifferent promise to meet her again at midnight next, she tumbled into bed.

She woke late and unrested, having barely managed two hours of sleep. She stumbled down to breakfast, skipping her morning bath entirely since this was her first day of work in the stables anyway and she didn’t see the point. Rumpled and disgruntled, she sat down heavily across from Thom.

“I hope you won’t be offended,” he said after a few moments of complete silence, “but you look terrible. Are you all right?”

She nodded. “Fine. I just didn’t sleep much.”

He studied her doubtfully. “It looks to me like it might be something more than that.” He pushed back his stool and got to his feet. “I’m going to ask His Eminence to have you assigned back into the Stacks for today, at least. You can begin your punishment in the stables tomorrow.”

He was out of the room and down the hallway before she could object.

To his credit, Thom got the job done. His Eminence seemed unconcerned that the punishment was to be postponed, agreeing without argument to let Ellice work with her brother in the Stacks so that Thom could make certain she was all right. Mistaya was grateful for the reprieve and told him so. She even went so far as to give him a hug. Thom was a better friend than she deserved, she decided. After all, he wasn’t hiding things from her the way she was hiding them from him.

“Have you been thinking about the voice?” he asked her at one point as they toiled over the cataloging.

She was thinking of nothing else, of course, but