A/N: Sorry for the delay folks. Between work, holiday travels and deadlines looming for other projects, I've had little time or brainspace for this story. It is still going though, never fear, and I hope to get back on track soon.
If you have reviewed this and I haven't replied to you: thank you. I lose track, and some reviews have not even been coming through to my e-mail inbox, and for this I apologise. I always intend to respond personally to every reviewer, at least with an account or identifier, but to all of you my heartfelt thanks. You are as much the source of my motivation as the story burning in my brain, and for your support I am most truly grateful.
Also: friendly warning that there are some slight descriptions of violence later on in this chapter.
Episode 8: As Big As We Need it To Be, Chapter 2
"What is the item regarding the Eastern Dragons?" Jenkins asked, ignoring the questioning gazes directed at him by both Ezekiel and Eve.
Stone looked back at the book, quickly scanning the page. "It's about somethin' called the 'Eye of the Zhulong'. You know it?"
Jenkins nodded. "The Zhulong are the Torch dragons, enlighteners," he explained. "They cast light on the darkness. Their eyes can show a traitor or enemy simply by casting their light upon them. They make fabulous lie detectors. There are even in fact rumours that, at the start of the fourteenth century, the eye of a dead Zhulong, brought back from the far east by the trade routes, was used in the trial of the Templars. Unfortunately, all the eye could do, alone, was show the user if the person it looked on was lying about something. At least if they did not know how to use it properly. Which they didn't. The fatal collapse of the house in which the eye was being used, however, brought an end to that means of questioning, at least. After that, no more was heard of it and it was supposed destroyed in the rubble. Never found."
"Was it?" Eve cast a sly glance at the ingenuous face of Jenkins.
"One might have had a hand in retrieving said item," he bowed, inclining his head to the Colonel.
"You caused a fatal house collapse?" Stone asked, frowning.
"The house should have been empty," Jenkins replied, holding up his hands. "The torturers were taking their latest victim to the King. I had not counted on them valuing their prize so greatly that they would leave a guard behind. In my defence: he was one of the vilest human beings I have had the displeasure to meet. And I've met a few."
"Where is the Eye now?" Charlene demanded.
"The vault," Jenkins answered immediately. "Always has been. There is no safer place in the Library."
"You had the Crown of King Arthur on general display in there, not to mention the Spear of Destiny," raged Eve. "Yet you have a glorified lie detector in the vault! It can't even tell what you're lying about!"
"Not quite accurate, my dear Colonel," appeased Jenkins. "I said they couldn't tell. They didn't know how to use it properly. Even still, they managed to set more than one poor victim on fire with its power."
"On fire?" Ezekiel cut in.
"The Eye burns its victims," clarified Jenkins. "The greater, or more numerous, the lies, the more it burned, causing more than a few cases of spontaneous combustion in an era where knowledge could be deigned witchcraft, especially in women, and anything that set you apart from the vast majority of the populace could have you shunned, beaten, even killed, simply for being who you are. If you know how to use it, of course, the threat is greater. Everyone has secrets. Everyone lies about something. Hides something. With the right knowledge, the right strength of mind, the right power, the Eye could immolate anyone who had no greater secret than what they planned on having for dinner that evening."
"Two questions," said Charlene, her voice eternally steady. "Number one: can da Vinci access the vault? Number two... Can he use the Eye?"
Jenkins face took on a thoughtful mien, then he looked down. "I believe he would be able to use it," he replied, not meeting Charlene's eye. "Whether he can access the vault or not..."
Ezekiel blinked when the old man's eyes turned expectantly on him. "I don't know," he admitted. "He wasn't there when I set the locks. I didn't talk to him about it..."
"I did," growled Stone, staring down at the page before him. "I was so wrapped up in the idea that one of my heroes was standing right in front of me, I told him anythin' he asked."
All eyes were on Stone, then they turned to Ezekiel, expectant once again. The ex-thief was looking pensive.
"He never asked me, and Cassandra didn't go near him if she could help it," Ezekiel noted.
"Me neither!" Charlene and Eve chimed in together.
Jenkins raised an eyebrow at the Colonel.
"You think Charlene's the only female round here he tried it on with?" Eve asked, matching him one eyebrow and raising him another.
"I certainly said as little as possible to the man," sighed Jenkins, looking away from the Colonel.
"Then he only knows what Stone knows," Ezekiel grinned. "We might beat him to the Eye yet!"
"Meaning?" Stone demanded, his brows drawn down into a thunderous scowl.
"Meaning I'm the only one that knows all the secrets of the vault," smirked the thief. "Put the rest of your together and you know it all, but I only ever told any of you parts of it. The vault is way more complicated than any of you, or da Vinci, think."
"You little..." Stone began, advancing on Ezekiel.
Charlene thwacked the flat of her sword blade across his chest. "Easy Cowboy. Junior's little stunt here might just have saved the day."
"Exactly who knows what?" Eve interrogated, pressing her hands down on the central desk for the want of something to do with them. She wanted to punch something. Hurt something.
"You and Flynn know the same," replied Ezekiel, his own hands raised now in supplication. "Stone and Cassandra know the same. I wouldn't have any of you keep secrets from your other halves. Especially when you didn't know they were secrets. Similarly, Charlene and Jenkins know the same. I know you guys compare notes on us when you think we can't hear you. You like to reminisce too. I couldn't have you comparing notes on the vault and finding they weren't quite identical. There are some overlaps, especially with the locks at the beginning. The rest, only I know."
"So whatever Cassie knows, he already knows," growled Stone. "Jones this still doesn't give him a reason for keeping her alive."
"We can assume Flynn's already blurted most, if not all, of what he knows too," sighed Eve. "Seriously, you would have thought the pair of you were competing for fanboy of the decade!"
"He'd still keep them alive," Ezekiel assured them both. "He needs an active Librarian to access the innermost part of the vault. He'll keep one alive to access it and the other to use as leverage when they refuse. Plus, once he realises he doesn't have the whole picture, he'll want them to help him puzzle it out. Again, one to do his bidding and the other as Leverage."
"Cassie would never let them hurt Flynn," muttered Stone, looking over at Eve.
"No more than Flynn would see any hurt come to Cassandra," said Eve, her voice much steadier than Stone's. "What he would do, though, is stall. And trust us to rescue them before it's too late."
Jacob nodded. "My girl too. Even without her new powers to play with."
"Indeed," mused Jenkins. "The vault is one of the most magically charged areas of the Library. If Miss Cillian's powers were on the wane, drained, as it were, by maintaining the portal for our safe return, they would start recharging as soon as she entered the vicinity of something magical. Since she was already in the Library when she was taken..."
"Even if she was unconscious, she'd still be recharging," finished Jacob. "And in somewhere like the vault..."
"She could supercharge," continued Jones. "Just like she did in the warehouse."
"The blowback from using that level of power would knock her out, though," pointed out Charlene. "She'd be unconscious again for weeks."
"She'd only have one shot," nodded Eve.
"If Miss Cillian is anything," commented Jenkins, stepping closer, "it is prudent. She would refrain from using such an attack until faced with no other option."
"And she would make sure she made it count," nodded Jacob.
Eve looked over to Ezekiel. "Jones: you're up. You redesigned this place. What's the fastest way in and is there any way to overtake them?"
"Well," grinned the thief, "since you mention it..."
XXXX
The steps before him went down.
They also, however, went up.
The first few locks on the vault had been child's play. Easily understood even without the freely given knowledge of their secrets. Now, though, every time he stepped forward, the perspective switched. It wouldn't be such a dilemma if the stairs themselves were wider. Or if there hadn't been that inky black darkness looming up on either side of them. He tested the upper version of the step. His foot passed through, tumbling him dangerously close to his tipping point over the chasm. He stepped again, this time aiming for the lower version of the tread. Once more, his foot touched nothing but air, and only the firm grip of his henchman, holding fast to his belt, saved him from diving to his death.
He examined the steps in detail. Their appearance was solid. Undeniably so. He reached out a hand. They felt solid to the touch. Yet nothing - nothing - he did could persuade them to remain so to be walked upon. He had examined his prisoners before even beginning on the stairs, first one then the other. Neither seemed to know anything of this section of the vault. It had undoubtedly been a surprise to each of them when his first henchman headed straight for the stairs ahead of the main party and dropped instantly out of sight. Not even his shrinking form could be seen over the lip of the platform. Only the incessant darkness.
The man's screams had faded into silence long before he hit any floor.
He turned back to his prisoners, looking them over with interest. Here was puzzle. A puzzle set by a Librarian, no less. A young Librarian, though, with much still to learn. Surely the combined efforts of a retired Librarian, a veteran Librarian, and a novice could break through the clouds of confusion and shed light upon this mystery?
The veteran and the novice refused to acknowledge the possible truth of this.
Perhaps persuasion would be necessary then. He had so hoped to save this for later. And the redhead's porcelain skin was so perfectly unblemished.
Still they refused to be accommodating.
She had cried out, the redhead, when another of his lackeys introduced his fist to her face. The other had been distressed by this, yet he had still refused to help. Even when the fragile figure had been dragged to her feet, lip bleeding, dripping red onto her bright, white collar.
Another blow. This time a bruise was starting to redden on the left of those ever so dainty cheekbones. Again, she was dragged to her feet. This time she spat blood in his face. He wiped it away with a handkerchief. Such defiance was useless. Meaningless. He would dredge the secret from them. One way or another. Perhaps her defiance would falter, he thought, if her mentor were the one on the receiving end.
