be ambushed out of view?
The street twisted and straightened again, and then I crashed into Emma, who’d been walking in front of me but had come to a sudden stop.
“What’s the matter?” I said.
In lieu of an answer, she just pointed. Up ahead, at a T-shaped intersection, there was a crowd. Though it had been sticky-hot back at the carnival, many of them were bundled in coats and scarves. They were assembled around a particular building, and stood gazing up at it in dumbfounded wonder—just as we were, now. The building itself was nothing special—four stories, the top three just rows of narrow, rounded windows, like an old office building. It was, in fact, nearly identical to all the buildings around it, with one exception: it was totally encased in ice. Ice coated its windows and doors. Icicles hung like fangs from every sill and ledge. Snow spilled from its doorways, collecting in giant heaps on the sidewalk. It looked like a blizzard had struck the building—from the
I peered at a snow-blasted street sign: R—KERY STRE—.
“I know this place,” said Melina. “It’s the peculiar archives, where all our official records are kept.”
“How do you know that?” said Emma.
“Miss Thrush was grooming me to be second assistant to the ombudswoman there. The examination’s very difficult. I’ve been studying for twenty-one years.”
“Is it supposed to be covered in ice like that?” asked Bronwyn.
“Not that I’m aware,” said Melina.
“It’s also where the Council of Ymbrynes convene for the annual Nitpicking of the Bylaws,” said Millard.
“The Council of Ymbrynes meets
“It’s not meant to stand out,” said Melina. “You aren’t supposed to notice it at all.”
“They’re doing a poor job of keeping it hidden, then,” said Enoch.
“As I said, it’s not usually covered in ice.”
“What do you think happened here?” I asked.
“Nothing good,” said Millard. “Nothing good at all.”
There was no question we’d have to get closer and explore, but that didn’t mean we had to rush in like fools.
