were counter spells that could undo his efforts. She knew that much from her time studying with Questor.
When she peered down, she was excited to discover that the shelves that had held all the stolen books were virtually unchanged. Wolves continued to patrol the perimeter and winged sentries still flew overhead while some of the black-cloaked figures walked among the books and others chanted spells from the book with the red leather cover. No one seemed to notice that anything was wrong. Perhaps they didn’t know the difference between magic and farming, she thought, muffling the urge to laugh. She could see the Throg Monkeys watching these wraiths, avoiding them whenever possible. Now and then, one of the little monsters would snatch a book furtively from the shelves, replace it with one it was carrying, and edge away from the tally takers until it was able to slip up the stairway unnoticed.
Her plan was working! She wanted to shout it aloud, but managed to restrain herself.
How much longer would it be until all of the books were replaced? How many more books were there? She couldn’t think of any way to find out that didn’t involve her going down into the cavern and having a closer look. That seemed too risky, even if she was supposed to be invisible. She could ask the Throg Monkeys, perhaps. Or she could wait until they were no longer bringing books back out of Abaddon. That way she would know they were all safely spirited away.
Would that be enough to close the hole in the library wall, or was something more needed?
She stayed where she was for a little longer, reading what she could into what she was seeing. Finally, unable to determine anything more, she turned away and crept up the steps to the hole and back into the Stacks.
Edgewood Dirk was waiting, sitting on his haunches and studying her. “Is your plan working?” he asked.
“I think so. But what should we do about the hole in the wall? Can we close it over?”
Dirk blinked. “Libiris is organic, like Sterling Silver. She will heal herself if the wound is not enlarged by further thefts and by the continued chanting of spells.”
“Then we need to make sure that it all stops, don’t we? We need to do something about His Eminence and Pinch.”
The cat hesitated. He arched his back in a long stretch, his fur shimmering with a strange, silvery glow. “Perhaps you should leave that to Ben Holiday and his companions. They seem more suited to that sort of work.”
“But I started this and I want to finish it!” she insisted. “I know how to be careful.”
The Prism Cat gave her a long, steady look that suggested he might be weighing the merits of this assertion. Then, his interest in the subject exhausted, he turned away and started back down the aisle toward the front of the room. “Time to go back to sleep,” he called over his shoulder. “We can discuss this further tomorrow.”
She thought it a reasonable suggestion, even though she was already certain that she wasn’t going to change her mind no matter what sort of arguments he mounted. This was her chance to make up for Carrington, her opportunity to prove herself to her parents. Once she had restored Libiris and exposed His Eminence and Pinch, they could no longer deny her request to remain in Landover and to take charge of her future. She would be allowed to continue her studies with Questor and Abernathy. She would be accepted as an equal and no longer treated as a child.
The trek back through the stacks was endless. Mistaya was bone-weary and muddle-headed from lack of sleep, and she could barely manage to put one foot ahead of the other. If Edgewood Dirk noticed or cared, he was not giving evidence of it. He minced along ahead of her, a cat on its way to someplace of its own choosing. She might have been wallpaper for all the difference she made to him.
Somewhere along the way, he simply disappeared. She barely noticed, her thoughts only on getting to bed and going to sleep. Shouldn’t be any problem tonight, she thought with a smile. Nothing would keep her awake after this.
Taking a quick look up and down the hallway before she did so, she opened the door to her room and stepped inside.
She knew immediately that something was wrong.
“Taking a nighttime stroll, Princess?” she heard His Eminence ask her from the darkness.
Then she caught a whiff of something bitter and raw, and she tumbled away into blackness.
SADLY MISTAKEN
When Mistaya came awake again, she was lying on a straw pallet in a dark, windowless room with only a single candle sitting on the floor beside her for light. She had a splitting headache, but otherwise she felt all right. She lay without moving for long moments while her eyes adjusted, trying to remember exactly what had happened to her. When she
