The Masked City by Genevieve Cogman Read Free Book Online Page A

storyline. Irene had been warned about it, and she’d avoided more than one of these herself in the past. And it was true that, due to the Fae presence, this world had a higher level of chaos than was comfortable, or indeed safe, given the potential for reality distortion. The Fae infested it (as Kai would put it) like worms in a well-seasoned grave.
    But the attack last night had been real. And Silver’s warning had felt real, too. It was reassuring to know that Kai would be with Vale while Irene herself was in the Library. She did trust Kai; she just wasn’t sure that she trusted him not to do anything valiant but stupid.
    Not being able to saunter between worlds like a dragon, she had to use a nominated Library doorway to enter its halls. And the current main Traverse from this alternate to the Library was situated in the British Museum, in what was the previous Librarian-in-Residence’s office. After a series of unfortunate events, it was now a box room, meaning that she had to make a special trip to access it. And special trips could be traced, so it was time for a slightly riskier mode of transport.
    All that a Librarian really needed to reach the Library was a sufficiently large collection of books or similar media. For Irene’s purposes, she also needed a place where she could be undisturbed for half an hour or more. The Senate House Library in Malet Street was within walking distance of her lodgings and would do the job nicely - and she’d previously enrolled as a student, so all her identification would be in order.
    She collected the Stoker book and headed over. The library was moderately busy, but Irene had no difficulty finding her way to a side corridor, using the Language to open the lock on a ‘restricted section’ with a quick whisper of ‘Open, lock’ and then locking it behind her again. The walls were heavy with ranks of leather-bound volumes, their titles barely discernible in the thin ether-light from a swaying bulb. Dust on the shelves and floor indicated that this area was not often used. She’d scouted it a couple of weeks ago.
    She walked along to the first storage-room door, put down her attache case and took out a small bottle of ink and a fountain pen. This was a new skill for her, only passed on when she became a Librarian-in-Residence. (She was still a bit resentful about that. It would have been extremely useful. And how many
other
things were still hidden from her?)
    Normally, when creating a temporary doorway to the Library, a Librarian spoke specific words in the Language, while using a strong access point (such as a large collection of books) to forge a connection. This lasted long enough for the agent to pass through. They must then let the connection close behind them, as the two places dropped out of synchronization. More recently, Irene had been shown that with the written form of the Language one could make the connection last a little longer. Long enough to go through to the Library, transact some business and then get back again to the same alternate-world location through the same door.
    Carefully she went down on one knee, drawing the characters for THIS DOOR OPENS TO THE LIBRARY above the handle. It would work just as well to scrawl the words across the middle of the door, but she liked to keep it unobtrusive.
    As she finished the last character, she felt the sudden shift in reality and her energy levels dropped to fuel the connection. She stayed on her knees, focusing on her breathing until it steadied, and put away the pen and ink. The Language characters were visibly drying on the wood and already starting to fade. They’d last perhaps half an hour. She didn’t have long.
    ‘Open,’ she said, giving the word its full inflection in the Language, with the special suffix indicating that the door must open to the Library itself.
    And it did.
    Irene stepped into a warmer, high-ceilinged room, the walls draped with red-and-white quilts. Multiple incandescent lights