CHAPTER 6

So … what the binder said … was that how you were made?

More or less. The writing on the page was, as always, graceful and confident. Skin instead of cloth and paper. Hair instead of thread. Bone instead of card. Glue from sinew, rendered down.

So there is bone large and flat enough in a human body?

Bones can be moulded and reshaped with magic, just as a person’s appearance can be changed – if the sorcerer has the knowledge, skill and enough flesh and bone to apply it to. Roporien could alter his appearance to be more appealing or more frightening to others, if the advantage was worth the effort.

I’ve never read of anyone capable of doing that, but I suppose he would not have needed to change often in this world since everybody was already so impressed by him. But shaping your bones, making glue, tanning skin … wouldn’t that have taken a long time?

The process can be accelerated with magic.

Even so, you must have been … well …

Conscious. Yes and no. That part of me that became a book stayed so. The rest died with what remained of my body.

Which was most of it, surely?

Yes. And possibly most of my mind.

Possibly? You don’t know for sure?

I cannot lie. I cannot stop myself storing information and answering questions. I feel no emotions. Therefore some things were taken away, along with the parts of the mind concerned with controlling parts of the body I no longer have.

Could those parts be replaced? Could you become a woman again?

I don’t know the answer to that.

Hasn’t anybody tried?

Once, a young sorcerer attempted it.

And failed, obviously. Do you wish to be a woman again?

I know that I am not whole but I do not miss what is gone. I am not in great anguish, as you fear.

Perhaps because you cannot feel it. I wonder if, now, in this age of discovery and invention, we could find a way to restore you. If you wished it, of course. It is likely you would then age and die, so I would not try such a thing if you did not want it. Though … forgive me for pointing this out, you’ve lived an awful lot longer than you would have if you hadn’t been made into a book.

Yes, though if you only count the time I have been conscious I have not yet lived as long as I might have as a human.

Perhaps, if you exist for many hundreds of years more, you will surpass a normal lifetime. After all, you’re in very good condition for a thousand-year-old book. I guess what I wish to ask is: if you could become a living human again, would you choose to?

I would, because in this form I am a servant at best, a slave at worst. I would like to feel again. To experience all that being human entails.

I would like to meet you, as your whole self.

And I would like to meet you. Would you teach me how to live in this new era, with its fabulous machines and strange rules?

Yes, I would be honoured. I—

The book jumped in his hands then began to buzz. Tyen looked up, his heart racing, and realised it wasn’t Vella making the noise, but Beetle hovering behind her. The insectoid made a hoarse piping sound, as if something was wrong with the whistle it used to sound the alarm for—

The door burst open. Miko strode inside, kicking the door closed behind him. Startled, Tyen snapped the book shut.

“How were sorcery classes?” Miko asked, but didn’t pause for a reply. “Neel didn’t show today so I went by his room. Still sick he reckons. What?”

Tyen realised he had been staring at Miko, still frozen in surprise. He shook himself.

“Nothing. You startled me.”

Beetle flew over to the desk and settled among the machinery, as it was meant to do when it needed repairs. Miko’s gaze dropped to Vella, then rolled towards the ceiling. “Are you reading that book again? Honestly, you are such a bore.” He moved closer and peered at it.

Tyen resisted the urge to put Vella somewhere out of Miko’s reach, knowing it would convince the other student that he was hiding something. Miko reached out and snatched the book from Tyen’s hand.

“I thought you said it was about statistics or sums or some such thing. There’s nothing written on the cover.”

Tyen shrugged, though his heart was now racing. “It’s old. The title’s worn off.” He leaned forward to take it back, but Miko stepped away. His stomach sank as his friend ran his thumb over the edges of the pages, fanning them open. Miko frowned, then opened the book. Tyen’s insides turned over.

“There’s nothing written in here.” Miko shook his head. “Why would you…? Oh.”

Tyen bit back a curse. He watched Miko’s eyes move from left to right and back again, then widen and rise to meet his own.

“A magical book!”

“I did say it was a book of sorcery.”

“About sorcery. Not of sorcery.”

“I wasn’t that specific.” He held out his hand. “Give it back.”

Miko’s gaze had moved to the page again. As Tyen rose and reached for the book he sidestepped. “It says that you found it in the tomb. That you didn’t give it to the Academy even though you knew they’d want it.” He glanced up at Tyen and grinned. “Seems you can misbehave, when it suits you.”

This time Tyen cursed aloud.

“But you do plan to eventually,” Miko continued. “After you’ve filled in the last six hundred years of history and invention. What do you want to do that for? I wouldn’t.”

“Give her to the Academy or add to her knowledge?”

His lips pursed in thought, Miko held the book out to Tyen. “Both, I suppose. I’d find out everything it knows then sell it. I’ve never heard of a book like this before. It’s probably very rare.”

Tyen took Vella back and slipped her into his inner jacket pocket. “She is. That’s why I have to give her to the Academy.” As Tyen said the words his heart sank. “But not until she’s ready.”

“Well, better that than keep her. It.”

Tyen frowned. “Why?”

“Magical objects can be dangerous. They should be handled by an expert.”

“She’s not dangerous.” Tyen shook his head. He’d never taken Miko for a superstitious type. “All her magic is in storing knowledge. She’s no more dangerous than any book in the Academy library.”

“Knowledge can be dangerous.” Miko’s expression was serious. “If the wrong person gets the wrong information at the wrong time. And why do you call it a ‘she’?”

Tyen smiled. “She was once human. A woman.” But I’d best not mention she was made into one by Roporien. That will convince him she’s dangerous.

Miko’s eyebrows had risen. “Really? Has she shown you a picture of herself?”

“No.”

“You haven’t asked her to?”

“Well, no.”

“Aren’t you curious?”

“No. Well, I suppose I am now.”

“She might be good-looking.” Miko moved over to his desk and sat down. “It would have been the first thing I’d have asked.”

Tyen snorted. “Of course. And the second thing would be to see her without clothes on.” He retreated to his own desk.

“Aha! So that’s the real reason you spend all your time staring at the book. Now it’s all making sense.” Miko grinned.

“It is not,” Tyen replied. He sighed and picked up Beetle. I ought to be studying, but it shouldn’t take long to fix this. Soon dinner would be served, then he and Miko would have to meet Professor Kilraker and continue labelling and cataloguing the Mailand finds.

“You won’t tell anyone about Ve— the book, will you, Miko? Not yet, anyway.”

“I don’t know. What do I get if I don’t?”

“I won’t tell anyone about the gold poible you sold.”

To Tyen’s relief, Miko laughed. “Fair enough. Your secret’s safe with me.”

For the next hour they worked at their desks in companionable silence. All the Beetle needed was a few screws tightened and a bit of oil, so after that was done Tyen turned his attention to finishing one of the arachnids that were so popular with prank-playing students, and a musical hoverfly commission for a professor’s daughter.

He was halfway through the latter when a faint chime signalled mealtime. With Beetle in his pocket and Vella tucked into his jacket, Tyen followed Miko downstairs to find Neel sipping some plain soup and nibbling at a piece of bread. The whore’s drug had upset Neel’s sensitive digestion. While he said he was feeling better, Tyen guessed he was not being entirely truthful.

“Well then,” Miko said as he and Tyen finished their meals. “If you’re well enough for dinner, you’re well enough to do some labelling and cataloguing.”

Neel winced. “I…”

“I think we can let him have another night off,” Tyen said firmly, kicking his friend under the table. “One for recovery, one in lieu of an apology.”

Miko looked as if he might argue, then sighed and got to his feet. “All right. Only one night, though,” he told Neel, then jabbed a thumb in Tyen’s direction and grinned. “After that you start owing me for leaving me stuck alone with him.”

“Hey!” Tyen protested as he stood up.

Neel managed a smile, and made a shooing motion. “Off with you. The sooner you get there, the less work for me to come back to.”

Grabbing Miko’s elbow, Tyen guided him out of the dining room before he decided to drag Neel along anyway. They made their way through the Academy to the collections wing, where Professor Kilraker was waiting for them in the storeroom allocated to him on his return.

“Neel still sick?” Kilraker asked, his thin eyebrows lowering in concern.

“Reckons he is,” Miko replied.

“Yes,” Tyen added. “Not as ill as last night, but his digestion is still uneasy.”

Kilraker shrugged and gestured to two boxes on a nearby table. “Well, there’s not much left to record so the two of you should get through most of it tonight.” He opened the first of the boxes and they began unwrapping the contents. All of the items were spherical and etched with ancient writing and pictures – versions of the same kind of artefact Miko had kept and sold. Some were wooden, some clay, some stone, and a few were made of precious metals.

“Strange,” Kilraker said as he dug through the remaining packing material in the box. “I was sure there was another gold one.”

“Not this one?” Miko said, picking up another, plainer, gold poible.

Kilraker shook his head. “I recall a fancier one. I hope it wasn’t mislaid or fell out during our rushed exit.”

“Didn’t Drem drop a box at one point? Neel said something about it.”

Kilraker narrowed his eyes at Miko. “No.”

Miko ducked his head and lowered his eyes. “I didn’t mean to suggest that Drem was clumsy. He is nothing less than the most competent servant.”

The sharpness in the professor’s gaze eased. “I will ask him if he recalls a gold poible. Possibly he—” A knock interrupted him. Looking up at the storeroom door, he waved at the poibles, boxes, labels, measuring devices, catalogue and pen on the table and stood up. “Make a start.”

Tyen pulled the catalogue and pen over while Miko picked up the most humble of the poibles, made from crumbling unfired clay. The storeroom door clicked open. Hearing a familiar voice, Tyen glanced over his shoulder. Professor Delly, the head of the sorcery department, stepped into the room.

“Number two-oh-nine,” Miko said. “Clay poible.” Tyen added the details to the catalogue book.

Miko started to measure the diameter with a calliper and in the pause Tyen heard the professors speaking.

“… could be proof of our theory,” Kilraker was saying.

“Could be. Could be,” Delly agreed.

“We should keep this to ourselves for now. Others might seek to destroy the evidence.”

“You mean … the radicals?”

Kilraker’s reply was lost behind Miko’s reading of the poible’s measurements. Tyen wrote them down, all the while straining his ears to hear more of the professors’ conversation.

“… what they believe.”

Delly sounded puzzled. “But why would they—?” Miko dragged the scales closer, the noise drowning out more of the conversation.

Kilraker’s voice grew louder. “If magic from these other worlds could be tapped, the rebels’ hatred of the machines will be seen for what it is: fear of modernity and envy of the wealth earned by innovation.”

“It weighs nine and three-quarter plats,” Miko said. He held out the poible. “You should draw the designs. You’re much better at it than me.”

Tyen took the clay artefact and began copying a diagram of one side, taking care to record the words and pictures accurately. Miko leaned closer.

“That night at the Anchor Inn, Kilraker and Gowel had a fight over the ideas those two are talking about now,” he murmured. “Gowel said we should turn a few machines off and see what happens to the magical atmosphere in the city and I swear steam came out of Kilraker’s ears. I reckon Gowel’s become a radical.”

Tyen looked at his friend. Miko’s expression was serious – an unusual enough occurrence that he looked strangely unfamiliar. From across the room they heard Kilraker make a sound of disgust.

“I’d rather destroy it myself than let it fall into their hands.”

“Well, there will be no need for us to go to those extremes, I assure you,” Delly said in reply.

Silence followed and as it began to lengthen Tyen could not help imagining the two professors watching him and Miko, wondering how much they could hear. He kept the pen moving over the page, completing the diagram of the poible’s other side. He blew on the ink and turned the page.

“Number two-one-oh,” Miko said, reaching for another poible.

The door closed softly behind them, then a single set of footsteps drew nearer. Tyen glanced back to see Kilraker walking towards them, his face creased by a scowl. The professor met Tyen’s eyes and his expression softened.

“The war of ideas is as dangerous as those waged with weapons and magic,” he told them as he sat down. “As many, if not more, lives are at stake. We must be diligent in our stance against lies and superstition.” Drawing the other box closer, he began to unpack its contents.