Page 103 of The Book That Wouldn't Burn

“It’s safe enough.” Livira tucked The Forest Between in among the books on a random shelf in Chamber 1. Arpix had insisted they bring it with them rather than leave it in Livira’s room to incriminate her. He’d wanted her to return it before they even went to the library, but Livira wasn’t prepared to risk being caught before having an opportunity to use what she’d learned. “Nobody’s going to find it by chance.”

They were a few hundred yards from the librarians’ entrance, out in the criss-crossed network of aisles, and it was time to see if Volente had followed them or would come when called. Livira felt a bit self-conscious calling his name into the silence.

“Volente?” More of a whisper than a cry.

“You could say it a bit louder,” Arpix said. “And make it sound less like a question.”

“If I shout it someone else might hear,” Livira hissed. “And since when were you an expert on dogs?”

“Well.” Arpix started to count on his fingers. “Firstly, I said we should go deeper in before we did this. Secondly, I very much doubt that creature has any real dog in it. And thirdly, my family had five dogs that I grew up with, Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, and Jim.”

Livira had plenty to say about that, especially on the subject of Jim, but a deep sniff and a black nose poking into view at the end of the aisle dragged her attention to other matters.

“Volente!” Livira hurried over to the hound. She wanted to give it a big hug but restrained herself, not sure how the beast would react to such familiarity. “We need to get into Chamber Seven.”

The dog just looked at her.

“That’s just information. Make a request,” Arpix said.

Livira shot him a narrow look. “Volente, take us to Chamber Seven. Please.” Already thoughts of the black assistant had put a nervous tremble in her voice. “Chamber Seven.”

The dog tilted its head to the side.

“That’s just our arbitrary numbering scheme,” Arpix said. “It might not mean anything to him. He could be a thousand years old. More. Also, we know where Chamber Seven is. Let’s go there and ask him to open the door.”

Livira pinched her lips into a pucker of annoyance. Her excitement had ridden roughshod over her intelligence. “Come on then.”

The head librarian’s hound had followed them only for the first hundred yards before slipping off on its own explorations. Livira let him go, planning to call him again when needed. She hoped that Volente really would be able to get her back into the forbidden Chamber 7 from which she’d been excluded for so many years. She was more confident that the blood would still be there on the floor at the site of the assistant’s accident. The odds were that she hadn’t just happened along the day after it was spilled, and that the liquid had defied evaporation for years before her arrival. All that would be needed then was that the promise of the book prove true, and that a circle drawn in the blood really would open a door back to the Exchange.

—

Livira was now so familiar with the early chambers that she reached Chamber 7 in under an hour, hot in her robes and rather sweaty, but with plenty of energy left in her.

On reaching their goal Livira hurried down the corridor and slapped her hand on the white door. It resisted her just as it always had, seeming as obdurate as the assistants.

“Volente.” She spoke the dog’s name.

Arpix looked around expectantly. Nothing happened. “Louder?”

“Volente!” Livira called out into the enfolding silence.

“Hmmm,” said Arpix after the slow passage of several long minutes. “Maybe he was only interested in us when we had the book. Or someone else might have called him away. Or—”

“You’re the dog expert. You call him.”

“Someone might hear.” Arpix eyed the encroaching aisles.

Livira pressed her forehead against the door. “I’m past caring. And even if there are librarians or trainees out there—they won’t know what it means.”

Arpix shrugged. “VOLENTE!”

Livira blinked in surprise. “Wow, that was loud!”

“You’ve got to sound like you mean it with dogs.” Arpix looked slightly embarrassed.

A moment later Volente padded into view. He came right up to Arpix, who reached out a hand to ruffle the dog’s head, the black fur seeming to consume his fingers.

“I’ve always liked dogs.” Arpix smiled. “They get abused in the city, especially with the way the king keeps talking about the sabbers and... well, you know.” He stroked his other hand across Volente’s shoulder. “Old dogs can teach us new tricks. An old dog shuffles on, relentlessly happy, still interested in the world. Even when they’re too worn out to run it’s still there—no bitterness, no regret, no looking back, just on to the next thing with amiable confusion. Dogs are nothing but good.”

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