Page 126 of The Book That Wouldn't Burn

“The thing about the Mechanism,” Starval said, “is that nothing matters once you leave. No consequences outlast the day. Nothing you do has the least impact on the next world from the next book. This place, however”—he thumped the heaped books—“and the places you can go from this Exchange of yours. They’re real. They keep score. They matter.”

“I’ve spent my life learning to study people,” Kerrol said. “And all I’ve got to work with are you three, and an endless supply of authors hiding on the other side of their pages. What you described, Evar... observing a multitude of real people. Unseen, with no barriers. It’s incredible. The things I’d learn!”

Starval rolled his eyes. “Choose the right pool and we can reach real people. Ones we can touch and talk to. You think you could handle real people who talk back, Kerrol? Better be careful—if there are whole cities full of them you might find one you like!”

“It’s agreed then. We...” Kerrol trailed off as Evar first raised his hand for silence, then used it to point towards the figure approaching through the book towers.

“Clovis. Let’s hear it.” Evar sighed. “How did you find me?”

“It’s where you found that damn book.” She strode to the heap that she’d been buried in when the great tower fell. “So, it’s decided then? We’re going to the Exchange?”

Evar got to his feet. “I’m not letting you back there. You just want to wage war!”

Clovis shrugged. “It doesn’t matter that we all want different things. What matters is that none of us can have those things unless we find a way back to that forest. And there are two obstacles in our way. The Soldier and the Assistant.”

... certainly no fornication! The essence of a library is that new freedom of thought is balanced by new restrictions on behaviour. Voices must be kept low, food is not allowed, running in the aisles is forbidden. And, though it saddens me to have to repeat myself in this matter, certainly no...

Library Etiquette: Volume 6, by Mrs.Emalli Post

CHAPTER 53

Livira

And I thought you disapproved of my ambition for peace between your peoples,” Yute said.

“I didn’t know he was a sabber when I kissed him.” Livira scowled.

“Whilst the similarities outnumber the differences, I would still think it a difficult mistake to make.” Yute reached down beside his chair and lifted a large carpetbag onto his lap. “Excuse me while I gather a few things.” He reached for his telescope and, having stowed it in the bag, leaned over to pull three books from the nearest shelf.

“Why are you... Wait! ‘Your peoples’? You said ‘Your peoples.’ ”

“I did?” Yute frowned and slid the astrolabe from his desk into the bag along with an onyx paperweight in the shape of a portly owl. “A slip of the tongue?”

Livira stood sharply from her chair. “How old are you?”

“A lady doesn’t ask, and a gentleman doesn’t tell.” Yute stood too and began to move around the room putting the occasional oddity into his bag, white fingers hovering over others before reluctantly moving on.

“Damn it, Yute—that was you, wasn’t it?”

Yute looked up from his packing. “Without more context the best I can do is ‘maybe.’ ”

“Watching me and Evar in the street?”

Yute put a small dark-wood statuette into the bag then distractedly took it out again. “Maybe.”

“When did you—” Livira broke off her question and turned slowly towards the window that overlooked the city. “What’s that popping sound?”

“Arrow-sticks, I imagine.” Yute came to join her. “The latest ones are very loud close to.”

Small puffs of smoke were going up all along the wall accompanied by so many popping noises that it became more of a continuous crackle, rising to a crescendo. Livira had never heard a sound reach the mountain slopes from the walls before. Softened by the considerable distance, the din had been robbed of violence and but for the view from Yute’s window she might imagine it to be the pyrotechnics accompanying a celebration.

Livira had more questions but a new series of bangs much closer at hand cut her off. “Someone’s hammering on the door!”

“We should go down and see who.” Yute bustled past her, burdened by his overfull bag.

“Here, let me.” Livira reached out and took it from him. They were of similar height now, but she had a broader frame and young muscles.

Yute made no complaint. He paused on the stairs for a long moment, looking up towards his daughter’s room. Then, with a sigh, he led the way down, passing each storey with a lingering glance through the door.

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