The Dark Archive (The Invisible Library Novel, 7, Band 7) - Softcover

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Genevieve Cogman is a freelance author, who has written for several role-playing game companies. She currently works for the NHS in England as a clinical classifications specialist. She is the author of The Invisible Library, The Masked City, The Burning Page, and The Lost Plot.

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CHAPTER 1

The ether-lamps illuminated the wide tunnel with harsh brightness. Irene estimated that they were about eighty yards beneath the English Channel at this point, close to the coast of Guernsey. Fans set at regular intervals in the walls churned the stale air with their burnished brass blades, providing a soft background purr of sound. This was comforting in the otherwise eerie silence. Irene Winters, Librarian and spy, found herself perversely wondering who kept this tunnel dusted. And who polished the brass? But letting herself be distracted was, she recognized, an indication of how nervous she was at being here. She was capable of many things, but she couldn't hold back the sea or save them from an earthquake.

There was a heavy brass air lock at the end of the passage, with overlapping petals of iron and glass set into its roughly circular frame. A control pad with a recessed wheel and two huge levers were embedded in the wall by its side. This Victorian technology was perfectly appropriate, though, given that Irene was on assignment in a Victorian-era world. And her companion Vale-private detective and the person who'd requested her help down here-was a native inhabitant. But their dapper clothing had been designed for London society, rather than underwater tunnels. Irene eyed Vale's top hat and suit wryly, as she considered her own incongruous hat and veil.

"Is there some reason why this document's been sent through private diplomatic channels, rather than just in the mail? Why did we have to come here to collect it?" she asked, feeling suddenly claustrophobic. Her companion had been silent for most of their walk down the tunnel-a brooding, thoughtful silence that didn't welcome conversation. But the time had come for more information. After all, she thought with some irritation, she was doing him a favour by accompanying him. The four of them-her, the dragon prince Kai, her new apprentice Catherine, and Vale-had come here to Guernsey so that Irene could collect a very specific book for the Library. She'd also wanted to get them away from the recent rash of attacks targeting not only her, but her companions as well. After they'd arrived, Vale had asked Irene to come on this little subterranean excursion with him. She'd agreed, on condition that they get back in time for the book handover. And she'd left Kai and Catherine together for some tea, cake, and quality conversation. "I didn't ask earlier in case we might be overheard, but surely down here . . ."

Vale tapped the paved floor thoughtfully with his cane-which, Irene knew, was an electrified sword-stick. It was the sort of equipment that Vale found useful as the greatest detective in London. When dealing with criminals, werewolves, vampires, cultists, and spies, a prudent man took what precautions he could. "I know I was less than forthcoming earlier, Winters. Your new student places me in a difficult position. Catherine is your student and therefore loyal to your Library, one hopes. But she is also Fae, and the niece of Lord Silver. He might be the ambassador from Liechtenstein to the British Empire, but he's also its spymaster in London and highly untrustworthy besides. The risk of Catherine passing information to him, deliberately or otherwise, is far too high. I simply can't take chances on this job."

"I see your point," Irene admitted. "But you must have noticed how much she dislikes her uncle."

"Precisely the attitude I would cultivate if I were her and wanted to convince you I had no ulterior motives," Vale replied. He spun the wheel like the tumblers of a safe.

Irene couldn't argue with that. "Very well," she said. "So since we're now completely alone, and unlikely to be overheard . . . what can you tell me? I should have known you had a motive for coming along, rather than just avoiding our mysterious antagonists." She softened her words with a smile. Heaven knows she owed him a few favours.

"I'd appreciate your patience for just a little longer . . . because I would like you to approach the situation with an unbiased mind," Vale answered. He pulled the nearby lever down with a clang, and the air lock irised open, metal and glass petals retracting into the wall. "When I show you the document-"

Then they both fell silent. The air beyond smelled of disinfectant-but below that was the tang of fresh blood.

Immediately on the alert, Irene flattened herself against the tunnel wall, peering through the opening. Vale did the same, their conversation forgotten. The corridor beyond opened into a large room filled with mysterious machinery and radar equipment.

There was still no sound except for the slow turning of the fans.

Vale frowned. He stepped through the air lock, cane ready in his hand. Irene followed a couple of steps behind. She didn't have a weapon on her, apart from a small knife for emergencies. But she did have the Language, a Librarian's most powerful instrument. With it, she could command reality with a single word, and that was dangerous enough.

The chamber appeared to be some sort of control room. Heavy steel and brass switches and toggles were embedded in panels that stretched from floor to ceiling. She could also see lengths of cabling that vanished into ducts in the walls behind. On the primitive-looking radar viewing screens, green circles fluoresced against dark backgrounds. But no targets had been identified-not that she knew what they were tracking. Two rickety metal chairs were positioned in front of the most important-looking controls, but both stood empty.

"Stand where you are, Winters," Vale said. "Don't disturb anything." He began to methodically search the room, examining the equipment. He paid particular attention to the other two passageways out of the room-also sealed with air locks, though without any security locks of the sort that had blocked their entrance.

"Were you expecting to meet your contact here?" Irene asked.

"Yes. This Guernsey monitoring station has a duty staff of six men. There should be two on duty here." Vale went down on one knee to check something. "And an additional five men somewhere within this complex. I happen to know a submarine is currently moored alongside, and the crew should have disembarked here."

"And the only route in by land was the one we came through?"

"Indeed. And Dickson up on the surface, in the St. Peter Port office, signalled them when we were about to come down. He received authorization for us to descend. That was only twenty minutes ago."

A chill ran up Irene's spine. Someone had known she and Vale would be here-trapped underground. And they'd been met by the smell of blood and the absence of allies. She refused to believe this was a coincidence, given their past few weeks. "This doesn't look good for us or the staff on this station. But who is the target here?" she wondered aloud.

"It is imperative that I find my contact-and the document I'm here to collect. But let us exercise extreme caution." Vale rose to his feet. "The air lock on the right goes to the submarine dock, and the other one leads to the living quarters. I can perceive nothing from the clues here, except that at least one man fell to the ground and suffered a minor injury. There are also some curious scratches, which might or might not be innocent . . . This floor is not conducive to the preservation of evidence."

"Let's block off the living quarters, then-just in case. The last thing we want is an inconvenient ambush from that direction. Or for an aggressor to make an escape." Irene crossed to the air lock and placed her hand on the opening...