chapter seventy-four

The Copper River Library might not have Nymphs of Neptune, but the Beast's magical library in Beauty held a copy of every book ever written. As I reached into the story, I found myself wondering at the implications of such a library. Did the Beast sit around reading fairy-tale retellings? What would he make of modern erotic fiction like 50 Shades of Grey? Had he discovered his own book, and what kind of magical paradox might I create if I used this book to create a new copy of Beauty?

This wasn't the time for experiments, dammit. I focused on the book I needed, and pulled Nymphs of Neptune through the pages.

"Can you lock it?" Lena asked.

"I don't know how." I opened the book and swore. Both times I had read Nymphs of Neptune, it had felt empty: a void whose life was locked away by Gutenberg's magic. As I skimmed the opening pages now, I could feel the book's magic waiting just beneath the page. I ran my fingers over the rough, yellowed paper. "They've got it."

"If we call Gutenberg—"

"Do it, but I'm not sure it will work. Bi Wei might be too strong."

Those words broke something within Lena. She tried not to let it show, but her entire bearing changed. She closed her eyes, and the energy and alertness that always reminded me of a pacing cat drained from her body. When she spoke, her words were listless. "Can you stop them from using it?"

"Maybe."

While she dialed the phone, I reached into the pages and allowed the icy air of Neptune to flow into the library. If there were a way to fine-tune the flow of this book's magic, I might never need to pay for air conditioning again.

"Nobody's answering," she whispered. "What are you doing?"

"Breaking one of the cardinal rules of libriomancy," I said. "I'm going to deliberately char the everliving hell out of this book."

I reached deeper until my fingers touched frigid snow.

Lena dialed another number. "Exactly how dangerous is this plan?" "Calling it a 'plan' might be a bit of an overstatement."

She turned away, and I heard her filling someone in on what was happening. Hopefully Gutenberg could fix this, but I couldn't afford to concentrate on that conversation.

John Rule had been transported from Earth to the underground world of Neptune. According to the author's ridiculous pseudoscience, the ice of the frozen surface somehow focused the rays of the sun like a giant magnifying lens, providing light and just enough warmth to the inhabitants below.

I pulled that environment into our world, channeling the book until my breath began to fog and frost crept across the floor.

I heard the characters calling to me. Whispering seductively, giggling as they invited me back to lavish bedchambers furnished in the thick furs of ferocious alien beasts. I heard their grunts and cries as they fought each other for the entertainment of their Neptunian lords. Just as Lena had fought Frank Dearing's wife.

This was the book that had birthed Lena Greenwood. One of the strongest women I knew, and she had been written as a sexual plaything. I wanted to bring the author back from the grave purely so Lena, Nidhi, and I could take turns punching him in the face. And yet, without his trash, Lena would have never been a part of my life.

"He's trying, but Bi Wei is holding the book open somehow." Lena covered the phone. "Isaac, your arm."

I glanced down. The skin of my wrist and forearm had taken on a faint bluish tinge, and I couldn't feel anything from the elbow down. I wrenched my hand free of the book. Pain hit a moment later as blood flow returned to my numb fingers. I clamped my jaw to keep from shouting.

Cold continued to flow from the book. "I probably should have done this out back," I said through clenched teeth.

The voices were growing louder. John Rule shouted defiantly at the Prince of Harku'unn, the northernmost kingdom of Neptune. I tightened my fist, feeling the weight of his stone-bladed sword, and his need to act. I would strike down the tyrant who would torture and enslave the free people of Harku'unn, including the exiled nymph who had saved my life.

"Isaac!"

One of the prince's dryads stepped closer, her barbarian weapon held in a defensive position. I raised my own sword.

"Oh, hell." The dryad parried my thrust and stepped inside my guard. Her other hand caught my chin and lifted, twisting my spine and forcing me off balance. She kicked my front leg out from under me before I could recover.

I landed hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. My sword fell, and my shield fluttered to the ground.

I blinked. I was reasonably certain shields weren't supposed to flutter. "Concentrate on my voice," said the dryad. "You're Isaac Vainio. You're in

Copper River, Michigan, and we don't have time for this!"

Snow gusted through the cave. A stone sword with a blade like chipped blue glass lay beside me. I rubbed my face and tried to focus.

"Don't move." She left me shivering on the floor, but returned seconds later, ripping open a cellophane package. "Eat this."

Strong fingers shoved something spongy and chocolate into my mouth. I chewed without thinking. "You raided my Tastykake supply?"

"Tastes and smells are powerful triggers. They can help to anchor you in the real world." Lena crammed another bite past my lips. "You once told me how your parents used to bring them back from trips out East, remember?"

I stared at the book on the floor beside me. The pages were blackened, charred by the amount of magic pouring through. No sane libriomancer would use a book so badly damaged, not if they wanted to hold on to that sanity. Like Gutenberg's lock, that damage would flow through other copies of the book, and only time would heal it.

I placed both hands over the book and wrenched my spell closed, then took the second cupcake from Lena, trying to keep from trembling. Color had begun to return to my skin, but I could also see the faint overlay of char, like a layer of ash just beneath the surface. I had done this to myself once before at Mackinac Island, after channeling a Martian death ray through my own flesh to fight off a group of undead horses.

I had a peculiar life.

To my surprise, the cupcakes helped. The voices pressing into my head were still there, but no longer threatened to drown me. I scraped the last bit of chocolate frosting from the wrapper with my finger. "I'm sorry," I said as I realized what I had done. "Did I hurt you?"

A single elevated eyebrow and an amused smile was all the answer that question needed.

The taste of chocolate didn't block out the faint scent of methane and ammonia. Cleaning this mess would take hours. Jenn was going to kill me. Not to mention the damage the moisture would do to the books. I needed to get to the basement and bring up the portable dehumidifiers.

As my mind continued to clear, I noticed Lena was shivering. Charring her book shouldn't have hurt her. Unlike my time-viewing spell back in Tamarack, Lena was a fully formed magical creation. Her connection with her book had ended the moment someone pulled her acorn from the pages. "What's wrong?"

"The smell." She scooped a handful of snow from the floor and stared at it, entranced. "I remember this, even though I know it's not real. I've never touched snow like this before, but my body recognizes it, and suddenly everything else seems wrong. You, the library, even these clothes."

I jumped to my feet, grabbed her elbow, and dragged her back to the children's section. Lena stumbled drunkenly along. I snatched her branch and pressed it into her hands. She gripped it like a lifeline.

"Stay with me, Lena." I punched in the alarm code and propped open the back door, then pulled her into the fresh air.

She stood like a statue, holding the branch from her tree and staring into the distance. Eventually, she reached over with one hand and tugged me to her. She kissed me fiercely at first, and then I felt her body begin to relax. She broke away and rested her head on my shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"I'm sorry," I said at the same time. "What for?"

I tucked her hair back over her ear, then traced the edge of her ear down to the curve of her neck. "I'm an idiot. I should have known better."

Nidhi would have caught my mistake. She would have made certain Lena was safely out of range before I opened up a portal to the fictional world that had birthed her. I could think of no better way to induce a schizophrenic break than blurring the lines of Lena's two realities.

"Did it work?" she asked.

"I think so." It was five in the morning. I had held that book open for more than a half hour. I smiled wearily. "August Harrison is going to be pissed."

The mess inside made me sympathize with the Sorcerer's Apprentice. If I had the slightest idea how to enchant the mops and brooms to clean up the library, I'd be tempted too.

I ended up using a push broom to sweep most of the snow out the front door, then brought the dehumidifiers up. After an hour, the smell had dispersed enough for Lena to come back inside with no apparent ill effects.

By the time Jenn arrived, I had propped open the doors for airflow, returned the beanbags to their proper place, and wiped down the circulation desk. Jenn stopped in the doorway, sniffed the air, looked from me to the dehumidifiers, and sighed. "I don't want to know, do I?"

"A friend called me around four in the morning. Said he saw a couple of kids snooping around in here. They had gotten the chemistry books out, and as far as I can tell, I think they were trying to make their own little drug lab."

Jennifer Latona had about twenty years on me. I fought to keep a neutral expression as she gave me a you-expect-me-to-believe-that look that was eerily reminiscent of my mother. "How did they break in?"

"The alarm was armed, so if I had to guess, I'd say they came in during the day, snuck into the basement, and hid out until everyone left."

"Did you catch them?"

"They must have ducked out of sight when we pulled up. Lena and I started cleaning up the mess, and they took off through the back door."

She set her briefcase on the desk and rubbed her temples. "You cleaned up the evidence? Did it ever occur to you to call the police? Or to call me?"

"I can honestly say it didn't." I gave her an apologetic shrug. "I was just trying to save the books. Can you imagine the damage if this stuff seeped under the shelves? We did the best we could, but we need to get steam vacs in here if we want to avoid a major mold problem. Not to mention the bugs."

"I'm supposed to have a children's story group in here at eight-thirty." She popped open her suitcase, grabbed a pair of old socks, and waved them under my nose. "I brought sock puppets! I can't have kids sitting around in a library that smells like a chem lab."

I peeked outside. "The sky looks pretty clear. Why not do puppets in the park?"

"I never had this kind of trouble when I was working down in Lansing." Before I could answer, she raised a hand and said, "Just get someone in here to do the carpets."

I gave her a quick salute, then sat down to call Cody Terzaghi about renting his steam cleaners. Nicola called back on my own phone as I was wrapping things up with Cody.

"Harrison got the book," she said without greeting or preamble. "Jane Oshogay is dead."

I slumped lower in the chair. "How?"

"Jane was first on the scene, and arrived as Harrison and the others were leaving. Her orders were to wait, but you know libriomancers and their books. From the look of things, she put up a good fight."

"Damn." I hesitated. After reading Bi Wei's book and touching her mind, some part of me had hoped she would object to Harrison's rampage, that she would stop him from hurting anyone else. "I, um, kind of charred Nymphs of Neptune last night. I don't think they'll be able to use it, but we should make a note in the catalog."

"Good. I need you to stay where you are. Once we're done cleaning up at the fort, we'll join you at the library."

"We?"

"Gutenberg, myself, and every other Porter within traveling distance. It's time to put an end to this."

"Past time." Relief hit first, followed closely by fear. Gutenberg had tried to destroy the students of Bi Sheng once before. I had no reason to believe he wouldn't attempt the same thing. But Bi Wei might be a match even for Gutenberg. Regardless of who won, the collateral damage would be ugly.

Copper River was about to become ground zero in a magical war the likes of which the world hadn't seen in more than five hundred years.