“Is it a storybook?” Penny asked excitedly. “Can the dragon talk? Will it read something out?”
David didn’t reply. The animation, nevertheless, was unaffected. Drumming its slightly webbed toes on the table, the dragon began to flip through the pages of the book at a speed that produced a noticeable draft. It flicked forward and backward several times, even turning the book upside down once, before it settled on a page it wanted to show. A single letter was written there: G.
“G? Is that all?” Penny said.
Hrrr, went the dragon, and hurriedly flicked through the pages again to show an A, then a D, and a Z.
“It’s spelling something,” Penny said. “GADZ …”
By now, however, the dragon was looking nervously over its shoulder as if it were concerned that it might be in danger. It became so flustered as it searched for the next letter that it fumbled the pages and dropped the book. Rosa, seeing this, stepped toward the table. “David, can you hear me? Are you all right?” She waved a hand across his eyes. There was no response.
“Eliza, what’s the matter with him? Why is he shaking? Eliza? What’s —?” Suddenly, a high-pitched, muted wail drew her attention to the cage across the room. Felix was staring at them, trembling with intent. His ears were pricked. His eyes, stone black.
“David, stop this!” Rosa shouted. “Stop the commingling! There’s something wrong!”
“Look at the book!” cried Penny. “What’s happening to the book?”
It was shining like a four-pointed star. All along its vertical axis, a rip was appearing in the fabric of space. The dragon covered its eyes and went into a crouch, mimicking Eliza, who was doing the same thing.
“Penny, get out of the way,” cried Rosa. With one heave, she pulled the girl off her seat and dragged her back, away from the table, just as two streams of glowing black light stretched out of Felix and flowed around the dragon. The dragon was spun about and thrown to one side. But the light continued on its way, acting as if it had entered a prism. It split into a host of finer rays and melted into David’s vision. The Ix were inside him, seeking to kill.
But David was not about to die that day.
What happened next would be written in the librarium’s history forever. With a bang, David’s chair hit the shelves behind him, bringing down a shower of books. At first glance it appeared he had stood up too quickly and merely kicked his chair away. But in fact he was going through a physical transformation of immense proportions, enough to move a mountain, never mind a chair.
Penny screamed and buried herself against Rosa’s shoulder as a great white beast emerged in place of her brother. The animal, which he would later call “bear,” opened a pair of ferocious jaws and roared at the time rift, flashing five hooked claws at a finger of darkness trying to billow through it. That was all it took to seal the danger. The rift closed and compressed to a single point. But the Ix inside David were committed to fight. The Cluster roared through his cerebral cortex, confident of early supremacy. In truth, it had little chance of ever gaining control. The walls of the great librarium shook as the huge bear roared again. Every point of its white fur tingled black. Then a blue-white halo lifted from its body and in one expulsion of pure white fire the Ix Cluster was dispersed into harmless microdots of ineffective energy. Gone.
When it was done, the clay dragon was lying on the table, unharmed. Eliza was still in her seat, recovering. Rosa and Penny were cowering together on the far side of the room.
The bear snorted and swung its head toward the window. It grunted at a pair of firebirds that had just come in to land. Then, as if a cloud had drifted past the sun, the bear morphed back into David. He staggered for a moment, catching his balance. He looked at Rosa. She was too stunned to speak.
The first words came from Aurielle. Spreading her fabulous, apricot-tipped wings, she glided into the room and landed on the table. She stared long and hard at Eliza’s dragon and even longer at Rosa’s arm. Rrrh-ruurr-rhhh! she chattered.
“What did she say?” asked David, still nursing a growl.
Rosa gulped and pressed Penny’s head to her chest. “She wants us to follow her to Floor One Hundred and Eight. We’re to bring the dragon with us.”
Rrrh! went Aurielle.
“‘Now,’ she says.”
5.
But first, there was the little matter of Aunt Gwyneth to attend to. And it was a little matter.
Raising a hand to acknowledge Aurielle’s request, David walked over to the cage he’d constructed around Felix. The katt was no longer there. In his place was a groggy (and somewhat perplexed), miniature version of Aunt Gwyneth.
David quickly extended his fain and probed her mind. It was still the dreaded Aunt all right, but not so superior anymore. Her fain was in tatters, like a punctured cloud. And whatever she’d done to disguise herself as Felix had backfired in the most spectacular way. She had lost her ability to imagineer — at least for now. But she still had a tongue and a temper. And she used them.
“You! Get me out of here. Now!” she squeaked. She gripped the bars of the cage and tried to rattle them.
David sat down cross-legged on the floor. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I like you just where you are.”
Aunt Gwyneth scowled furiously as Rosa, Eliza, and an openmouthed Penny all came crowding around. “And what are you looking at?” she hissed at Aleron.
He was at the window, awaiting instructions from Aurielle.
“Careful, Aunt, he might just eat you,” David warned. “Your kind are not popular in this building, remember.”
“David?” His mother touched his shoulder lightly, holding her fingers there a moment to convince herself that this … man was still her son. “I have no idea what just happened in this room, but that — I mean, she — is still an Aunt.”
“Finally, some respect,” Aunt Gwyneth railed, blowing a sprig of hair off her cheek.
Rosa crouched down and put her face to the cage. “Need a hairpin, Aunt?” She produced one she’d found when the twins had disappeared. It was half the length of Aunt Gwyneth’s body and twinkled keenly when Rosa rolled it through her fingers.
Aunt Gwyneth actually gulped.
“David, please stop this,” his mother said.
He gestured to Rosa to back away.
With a snort, she jabbed the pin at the bars for good measure. “Is she harmless?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Let her stew. You and I need to have a serious talk.”
But Aunt Gwyneth was not about to give up easily. “I demand that you release me at once. I am not a criminal. I was invaded by the Ix and held hostage to their plans.”
“Ix?” said David, in a level tone.
Aunt Gwyneth leaned forward. Her wrinkled face looked like a piece of dried mud. “That’s what you destroyed with your clever antics. A Cluster of Ix. An alien danger your fool of a father introduced to this world from a place called Earth.”
“Our father?” Penny looked up at her mother.
“Later,” said Eliza, stroking Penny’s hair.
“Whatever that thing is — or was,” said David, “my father was trying to protect Co:pern:ica from it.” He reached into his pocket and brought out the tangled auma pad.
“What’s that?” Penny asked.
“A nasty elec:tronic device that sucks the life out of things, Penny — especially books.”
“Why would anyone do that?”
“So they could build up their fain and become the most powerful force on the planet. Isn’t that right, Aunt Gwyneth?”
“You’ve no right to interfere with my projects,” she snapped. “Co:pern:ica needs leadership. Discipline. Strength. Only a su:perior Aunt can provide that.”
“Not anymore,” David said, standing up. He put the auma pad back into his jacket. “I think we’re on the brink of discovering what this building really means to this world. We’re going to blow your system apart. Thanks to you, the Aunts’ grip is about to wea
ken.”
“And you think you could do better?” She banged the cage door to keep his attention. “You think Co:pern:ica will place its trust in a freak that can’t decide if it’s a human construct or a roaring animal? I know what you are, David. I know why the Ix were coming for you. I know why Isenfier was stopped.”
Rosa threw him a sideways glance. “What’s she babbling about?”
“Release me and I’ll talk,” Aunt Gwyneth said. She clamped her mouth shut and smirked.
David was having none of it. “Tell Runcey to guard her,” he said to Rosa. “Mom, Penny, come with me.”
But Rosa was having none of that. Slamming two hands against his chest she said, “Stop right there. You don’t just float off upstairs without explaining what happened just now. What are you? How did you morph into that … thing?”
“I don’t know,” David answered her plainly. “I was attacked; I responded. That’s all there is to it. I know as much about that animal as you do at present. It’s been in my dreams since I was twelve years old.”
Picking at her nails Aunt Gwyneth said, “He’s out of control, Rosa. How long do you think it’s going to be before the Higher step in to re:move him for good?”
“Shut up,” Rosa growled.
The Aunt flared her nostrils. “I’ll remember your insolence when I’m out of here, girl.”
“Look,” said Eliza, stepping in to make the peace. She put herself between Rosa and her son. “Why don’t you two go upstairs and Penny and I will stay here and … look after things?”
“No. I want to be with David,” Penny said. She ran up and grabbed her brother’s hand.
“She can’t come with us,” Rosa said to David. “We can’t take a kid above Floor Forty-Two.”
David switched his gaze to Aurielle, who was hopping impatiently from foot to foot. He said to Penny, “Have you brought Alicia with you?”
The girl heaved the storybook out of her pocket. “Can I swap it for another?”
Rosa said, bluntly, “The books belong here.”
David glanced at the shelves all around them. The librarium was whispering as it sometimes did. Outside, in the fields, the daisy leaves were fluttering. “Actually, I think the building would like it if Penny borrowed another book.”
“Yes!” went the girl.
Rosa threw up her hands. “This is crazy. We don’t know what we’ll find on the upper floors, David. She’s just going to be a burden to us.”
“I am n —” Penny was about to say, but her brother raised a hand to quiet her. “We’ll take her to the fiction department and let her look around. What harm can that do? The danger’s passed. We’ll take Runcey with us. He can keep an eye on her.”
“It’s Aleron,” Rosa said, taut and grumpy. “I’ll be waiting on the stairs. If you’re not out in one minit, I’m going up without you.” She snapped a rrrh! at Aurielle and marched away. The cream-colored firebird flapped out after her.
“Mom, will you be OK with her?” David nodded at Aunt Gwyneth. She had settled down on the floor of her prison and assumed a haughty, meditative pose. “Don’t believe a word she tells you. And under no circumstances let her out of that cage. I’ll :com Counselor Strømberg when we get back. He’ll know what to do.”
“You’ll regret this,” said the Aunt. She closed her eyes and went, Ommmm.
“I’ll be OK,” said Eliza. “Go and be nice to Rosa.”
Beckoning Aleron to join him, David drew Penny away. But at the door to the stairs he stopped for a moment to pluck a book off one of the shelves. It had a thick, red spine and a well-worn look, as if it had been used many hundreds of times. He opened it about a third of the way through, turned two pages, then settled on one, carefully tracing his finger down it. At the point where his finger stopped moving, he frowned.
“David? Is everything all right?” his mother asked.
(Aunt Gwyneth opened one eye.)
“Yes,” he said, but he didn’t sound convinced. He pushed the book back, then guided Penny out.
Aunt Gwyneth opened both eyes and said, “Well, Eliza, how pleasant to have some time to ourselves. What shall we do? Sing songs? Play a game?” She folded her hands into her lap and began to chant a rhyme that children were often taught: “I fain, with my little brain, something beginning with …”
“Aunt Gwyneth, I’m not in the mood for games.” Eliza was staring intently at the shelf where David had checked the book.
The Aunt slid her gaze in that direction. “Stop prevaricating, girl. Go and take a look.”
“At what?”
Aunt Gwyneth sneezed. It sounded as if a small bomb had suddenly gone off. “The book, of course. It’s probably a reference volume, like all the others in this disgusting arena of floating dust. I’d say he was hoping to discover what your dragon was spelling out. The sculpture was trying to tell him something. Something that caused the Ix that took me hostage to break away and attempt to kill him. Aren’t you curious? You saw how troubled he was.”
Eliza squeezed her hands together. “If he’d wanted me to know, he’d have said something to me.”
“Pah! How weak and pathetic you’ve become. I had such hopes for you.”
“Aunt Gwyneth, let’s get one thing clear: If you try to turn my mind, I’ll … imagineer a blanket over your cage.”
“Tch. So disrespectful, too.”
“Me?” Eliza turned to the captive and scowled. “You falsely banished my husband to the Dead Lands and abandoned me there without a shred of help — and given half a chance you’d destroy my son. I don’t think I owe you any respect.”
“I beg to differ,” Aunt Gwyneth snarled. “Open this cage at once.”
The command was persuasive. Very persuasive. A sign that the Aunt Su:perior might be regaining her powers. Eliza could feel herself wanting to reach forward. In the nick of time, she snatched her hand back. “No. You’re wicked. You’re staying where you are. Don’t make me put a cover over you.”
Aunt Gwyneth breathed in sharply. “How dare you treat me like this? You, of all people.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
And then the Aunt did something completely out of keeping with one of her kind: She introduced a note of sorrow to her voice. “I wasn’t going to tell you this. But as Strømberg will have me sent to the Dead Lands and we’ll never see each other again after that, then you might as well know the truth. I was talking about the bond of family. You rage at me, throw taunts at me, and all the while speak ill of me. If anyone is wicked, it is you, Eliza. I didn’t bring you up to lock me in a cage! Is this really any way to treat your mother?”
6.
My —? No!” Eliza stood up, wagging a finger. “No,” she said again, “that’s just plain ludicrous.”
“Is it?” said the Aunt. “You freely admit you know nothing of your life before Harlan Merriman — but I do. How many constructs have you met, Eliza, that can’t recall anything from their childhood? I closed you down and erased your memories for one reason only: You would have been de:constructed if the Higher had known what you were capable of.”
“Penny …” Eliza felt her mouth growing dry.
“Quite. The ability to reproduce the way you did is indicative of your ancestry. Your father was descended from Agawin himself. He was taken from me and re:moved by the Higher when he was no older than your son is now.”
“How did you meet him?”
“How did you meet Harlan? These things just happen, girl. He was a man, tall and clever, with magick in his fain and … and wings on his back.”
Eliza drew closer to the bars. “Wings?”
“Don’t shout,” the Aunt said, shying away. “When you’re this size, the air pressure really isn’t comfortable.” She stood up and adjusted her clothing. “The wings were stubs. Never fully developed. But enough to set him apart from any other suitor — of which there were many, I might add.” She put a hand to her bun and fluffed it up. “I was quite something — when it mattere
d. I’m glad to see you’ve inherited my … splendor, though the hair is a little odd, it must be said.”
“I fail to see the likeness,” Eliza said sharply. She pulled back from the cage and went for a walk around the room. She took a book off a shelf and pushed it back again, as if she needed to exercise her arm. “If this is true, what became of him — my father?”
Aunt Gwyneth cracked her knuckles like a row of seed pods. “I don’t know,” she said (with a credible degree of regret in her voice). “I tried many times to discover that myself, before I was taken into Aunthood. After that, a certain bitterness entered my soul. Even you, his daughter, I had to denounce, though I couldn’t bear to see you fully de:constructed. My Aunt Su:perior took pity on me. She put your template into stasis until I was ready to accept you back. By then, you had no need to know your mother. So you were reintroduced as an orphaned young woman. And I remained silent and merely observed you.”
Eliza touched the spine of a book, enjoying the curvature of it and the way the author’s name was faintly embedded in a deep shade of blue two-thirds of the way up. Books were beautiful, she thought, arranged like this. Like a kind of sleeping ornament. And despite her dismissive attitude when she had first come to the librarium, she rather liked the deep, rich smell of them, too. There was nothing quite like it on all Co:pern:ica. “How do I know you’re not spinning me a tale so I’ll break that lock and let you out?”
“I would have thought the answer to that was obvious. It’s running around upstairs by now, looking for another book to read. Penny is only alive because I’m protecting her. Come to that, my dear, so are you.”
Eliza walked to a chair and slowly sat down. “Tell me about Agawin. Was he man or construct?”
“Try enigma,” said the Aunt, going on a little walk herself. “Had you continued your training you would have studied this myth in full.”