Episode 8: As Big As We Need it To Be, Chapter 6
The door to the heart of the vault opened without a shadow of a sound. The room was laid out like any museum - another echo of the origins of their creator - with crisply embossed and elegantly informative plaques identifying every item. The small group picked their way through the displays, sometimes pausing when a Librarian's curiosity became too much for them. The offending party was soon silently herded onwards, however, and the last leg of their long journey went on. Finally, they paused. The Eye of the Zhulong was in sight. And it already had company.
"Leonardo da Vinci," breathed Jenkins. "We meet again. You snake!"
"Now, now, Galeas!" Leo admonished his senior. "Name calling is surely beneath you?"
"Not for the worm who helped kill my wife!" Jenkins spat, and if looks could kill, they surely would have. "How long? How long have you been working for the other side? Is it a recent thing? Since they found your position here could be of use to them? If so, be assured: they will happily leave you to rot once your usefulness has passed. Or is your tenure a little longer than that? Does it reach all the way back to your mysterious disappearance? The curse that ended your painting career? Perhaps even your time here as a Librarian? It happens from time to time. With the weaker ones, or the ones with some leverage hanging over them, or those that don't know any better. No reason it shouldn't happen to you. You were nothing special."
"Nothing special?" Leonardo hissed. "Nothing special? I was the greatest artist who ever lived! I was a visionary! An inventor prized by whichever city state had the good fortune to employ me! A creator of opulence! A bringer of death!"
"You know Oppenheimer said something similar," growled Eve. "He wasn't boasting about it though."
"Ah, the Colonel," crooned the old master. "Such classical beauty. Such grace. You would have made a fine study for an Artemis or an Aphrodite."
"I've always seen her as more of a Hera myself," muttered Flynn, "but I get where you're getting the Artemis vibe from."
"Flynn, now really is not the time!" Eve muttered back.
"Oh, my love, I think it might be," Flynn sing-songed under his breath.
"It amazes me, really," continued da Vinci, ignoring them entirely. "How none of you suspected me?"
"I wouldn't say none," growled Jenkins.
"Clearly you did not suspect enough to do anything," sneered the painter. "Perhaps if you had, your beloved Flora might still be alive today!"
"Don't you dare say her name!" Jenkins shot back, his voice a quiet roar as ocean waves on high rocks. "You have no right to speak it! No right to even think it!"
"And how, precisely, do you intend to stop me?" Leonardo breezed with a blasé shrug. Jenkins pushed forward through the group and da Vinci held up a hand, the other calmly removing something from his pocket. He held up the vial of Flynn's blood. "Ah! Are you certain you want to do that? How much will you sacrifice for your revenge, Galeas?"
Stopping short, Jenkins frowned at the vial. "Where did you get that and whose blood did you put in it?"
"Oh, my dear old friend, the where is truly immaterial after all this time. It is the whom that is of so much more import," oozed da Vinci, a wicked smile smearing itself across his face. "Really, I could have chosen either. They both hold so much more power than they realise. I chose the slightly less unstable vintage, however." He turned Flynn's head to show the others the undressed cut on his cheek.
"I am not your friend," rumbled Jenkins, holding his place at the front of the small group. "I have never been your friend and I am now most definitely your enemy. Count on it, da Vinci: mine will be the last face you see in this world."
Da Vinci sniffed and pulled a face. "Perhaps," he shrugged. "Perhaps you will find it the other way round. Either way, that reckoning shall not come today. The Eye of the Zhulong, if you please."
Stone and Charlene moved in front of the display case containing the Eye.
"Don't know if you've noticed, mate," trilled Ezekiel from Jenkins' side. "You're a little bit outnumbered."
Laughter pealed forth from the artist. Scornful laughter. Laughter that rang with far more confidence than it ought and fuelled the burning rage threatening to bubble up through the placid veneer of the thief.
"Tell your acolyte what it is I hold, Galeas," he sneered, tossing the vial up in the air and catching it again. "He has, it seems, been well taught, but perhaps not well taught enough for this!"
Every time da Vinci threw the vial up, Jenkins flinched. "The vial stops Flynn's blood clotting," he informed the others. "It keeps it fresh for any spells or rituals they wish to use it in. It is also the magical equivalent of a gun to Flynn's head. If the vial is smashed... If the vial is smashed it means instant death."
"Checkmate, I believe," sighed da Vinci, a smug smile plastered over his face.
Jenkins looked round to Charlene. Her lips were set in a grim line. She answered his tip of the head with a minuscule nod. He received a similar affirmative from Stone and Eve. "Ezekiel, get the Eye. We're out of moves."
"But..." Jones protested.
"Do it, Ezekiel," Eve ordered, her words clipped and controlled.
Seeing further argument was useless, Ezekiel moved to the display case and removed the Eye.
"Let Cassandra and Flynn come to us first," ordered Jenkins. "You still have the vial. When they come over, Ezekiel will bring you the Eye."
"I hold all the cards, Galeas," da Vinci informed them piteously. "I'm the one who decides who goes where and when, not you. Nevertheless," he continued, pity now changing to magnanimity, "I shall allow your friends to join you. I have no further use for them, after all."
A flick of his wrist was all it took for the waiting minion behind him to release his hold on Flynn and Cassandra. Stumbling slightly from the sudden lack of tension, the two Librarians staggered across the space that separated them from their loved ones. Cassandra was drawn inexorably into the waiting arms of Jacob, and Flynn likewise to Eve, easily raising her hand to his lips.
"Go now, Ezekiel," breathed Eve, a tremble audible in her voice, her fingers intertwined with Flynn's as if they alone could block the terrible outcome of that precious vial smashing to smithereens on the vault floor.
The Thief turned to the case holding the opalescent Eye. From somewhere on his person that not one onlooker, friend or foe, could see, he produced a key. It was not an ordinary, flat, bog-standard door key. Nor was it a long, old, iron safe key or old style house key. It was something far more interesting and intricate than that. It was a thief's key, and only a thief knew how to operate it.
When said Thief turned back to the group, he held the Eye, nestled safely in the palm of his hand. His gaze flicked up to meet that of Jenkins and the nod he saw there was almost imperceptible. He turned to da Vinci and crossed the short distance between them. The painter paused in his throwing of the vial, catching it in one hand and placing it safely in a pocket while extending the other to the boy before him. The Thief stepped forward and placed the Eye in the painter's hand.
"We will find you, da Vinci," spat Jenkins from his place with the others. "We will hunt you down and put an end to whatever nefarious scheme you have planned. That much, I promise you!"
A dry laugh flitted across da Vinci's face. "No, old friend, you won't."
Ezekiel turned to walk back to his friends and found he couldn't move.
"Ah, ah, ah, ah," da Vinci warned, stepping forward and plunging a hand into the Thief's jacket pocket, "you don't honestly think your master's little speech there distracted me that much, did you?" He withdrew the vial of blood and watched Ezekiel's shoulders sag. "Perhaps I shall take a sample of your blood too, boy. Shall I? There must be a good deal of magic in you to build an edifice such as this. Let us see just how much…"
Ezekiel braced himself, within the grip of the spell, to feel the touch of the dagger on his cheek. He listened for its unsheathing. What he heard instead was the yowl of a cat and a creative curse in Italian. What he felt was the fall of the spell, giving him back the use of his arms and legs. He stumbled away, turning to see the traitor and his minion looking round for the source of the disturbance. Blood dripped from da Vinci's leg.
"Enough of this!" Da Vinci cried, his cheeks flushed in frustration. "Choose now whom you would stop: us or this!"
Eve cried out as the wretch flung the vial high in the air. Ezekiel darted forwards, but fast as he was, he knew he was too far away now. He skidded to a halt, his eyes, like all others, fixed on the descending vial; only it was no longer descending. A cloud of shimmering blue pillowed it, halting its progress with no damage to the crystal or its contents. Ezekiel glanced to where da Vinci had been. Both he and his minion were gone, who knew how or where. The Thief turned to Cassandra. As expected, her eyes were glued to the bubble, her arm outstretched. A thin trickle of blood wound its way down from her nose.
"Bring it down slowly, Cassie," Stone murmured into her ear. "Steady now, darlin'. You got this."
Inch by inch, or centimetre by centimetre if you prefer, the blue cloud floated downward, its precious cargo glittering within it. When it reached table height, Ezekiel closed the remaining distance between the cloud and himself and picked up its contents. With a pop the cloud vanished and, the vial now safe in hand, all attention turned to Cassandra. She stood sheepishly in the centre of the group, dabbing at the trickle of blood with the handkerchief Stone had just handed her.
"Why aren't you unconscious?" Ezekiel wondered aloud, bluntly bringing up the elephant in the room. The flicker of a smile on Cassandra's face told him she was glad someone had finally pointed out the obvious.
"I got a few lessons when I was in Dunvegan," she shrugged. Her eyes flicked up to Jenkins almost apologetically. "Your late wife taught me how to channel the magic. Let it flow through me, but not take me with it. Like I'm a fulcrum and it's a lever or a see-saw."
"Yet another reason why I will be eternally grateful to her," smiled the old man, "and there are so very many."
"Jones, is the way out of here as long as the way in?" Eve asked, her fingers inspecting the wound on her husband's face with a tenderness she certainly never used on any of her charges.
Flynn captured the interrogating digits with his own and kissed them. "I'm fine, my love."
Eve flashed him a wavering smile and looked round to Ezekiel. "Jones?"
"I kinda figured it was more important to keep folks out than in," replied the Thief, "so no: the way out is way shorter. Follow me."
The younger contingent, eager to escape the perils of the vault for somewhere quieter with more chairs and coffee, hurried after Ezekiel. They missed the silent exchange of looks between the two veterans. They also missed the soft padding of feline feet that disappeared off into the distance.
XXXX
"Are you kidding me?" Stone screeched, stepping into the warm and familiar confines of the office. "One door, Jones?"
"It's one way, Stone! I physically could not get you into the vault by it if I wanted to!"
"Look on the bright side, Chuckles," sighed Charlene, eyes rolling, "at least nothing was staring at you."
"What did we miss?" Cassandra laughed, frowning from Jacob to Ezekiel to Charlene. Eve had dragged Flynn off to the first aid room the instant they were both fully in the office.
"Long story," grumbled Stone, busying himself by flicking through the clippings book.
"Ohh, not that long, I think!" Ezekiel grinned. He caught the glare that was thrown his way and headed for the stairs. "I think I'll just…"
"Not so fast young man," called Jenkins, dragging his other foot through the doorway and looking back at it with an expression only Charlene spotted. "I'll take that vial and put it somewhere safe, and when I'm done you and I…" He cast another glance back at the doorway, fingers tapping unconsciously on the edge of his desk. "We need to have a little talk."
Ezekiel placed the vial reverently into his mentor's hands and nodded. "I'll be in the reading room, when you're done."
Charlene watched the young man disappear up the stairs and the old out through the office door. The other two, she noticed, were too wrapped up in whispering sweet nothings to each other to notice. Eyes rolling once more, the veteran Guardian marched out of the office in search of the Caretaker.
"What is it?" Charlene demanded, closing the door of Jenkins' lab behind her.
"In the circumstances, I am afraid you will have to be a smidge more specific," quipped Jenkins without turning round. "There were quite a few qualifying 'its' today."
"Take your pick, I ain't choosy."
"Well," hummed the knight, "let's start with the obvious. Was it just my aged eyes and ears or did you see and hear a cat attack da Vinci when he threatened Ezekiel."
"You know damn well I did," growled Charlene, "and it wasn't just a cat, it was…"
"A caracal?"
"Precisely. Artemis indeed. I think I've got a better idea than that old charlatan who she's…"
"Let's not be too hasty," interrupted Jenkins. "A link there most definitely is, but what kind of link is another matter."
Charlene hummed a non-committal agreement and strolled round the room in thought, pausing when she neared the archivist to watch what absorbed his attention. "And just what, exactly, do you think you are doing with that?"
Delicately placing the crystal vial into a nearby holder, Jenkins put down his tools and turned to his colleague. "Testing a theory. One that I'm afraid has proven correct."
"Which is?" Charlene pressed impatiently. "And no cryptic answers this time, sir knight!"
An elegant wave of a hand ushered Charlene onto a nearby stool. Jenkins leant back on the desk and tugged at his chin, a gesture that did nothing to allay the worry that was bubbling up in Charlene.
"You know how valuable Mister Carsen's blood would be to the Serpent brotherhood, even without that vial," Jenkins paused, watching Charlene nod uncomfortably. "Well, it surprised me somewhat that Leo would be so peevish as to throw away something quite so rare and priceless. I had a theory that he had, somehow, misinformed us. I took a small sample of the blood and performed a simple test. One which, if I were wrong, would not harm Mister Carsen in the slightest. Unfortunately, I was not wrong. The blood is not Flynn's. Indeed, it is not even human."
"So he still has it," mused Charlene, her eyes slipping off to the side. "A gun to Flynn's head."
"Or an ingredient in who knows how many blood magic spells."
"We don't tell them."
"Not unless it becomes absolutely necessary," agreed Jenkins, nodding, "or they ask me directly. I won't lie to them. Not about this. I will prevaricate where I can, but I will not lie."
"Send 'em my way: I'll lie for you," quipped Charlene. She frowned, a memory intruding on her train of thought. "What was the other thing?"
"What other thing?" Jenkins breezed, turning back to his work desk and placing a clear dome over the fake vial in its stand.
"You know what I'm talking about," pushed Charlene, getting up from the stool again and folding her arms. "When we got back here and you told junior you two needed to have 'a talk'. What's bugging you?"
Jenkins huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes. Charlene noticed everything. That was what had made her so good at her job. That was why she was the Library's longest serving Guardian. Ah, well: perhaps the Library had a new task ahead for her.
"You noticed how we returned to the office, of course," he stated. There was no point in asking. "The magic mirror. On its own that might not have worried me, but did you note how we left the vault? Through another mirror. I don't know what tricks and trials da Vinci dragged Flynn and Cassandra through, but I know it was difficult enough, magical enough, for da Vinci to comment on it when he threatened to take Ezekiel's blood. That concerned me, but only because I had not noticed such levels of power in the boy myself. Then, when he led us through the looking glass to the mirror in the office, my concern became downright worry. Mirror magic is fairy magic. Flora enchanted that mirror, centuries ago. It was how we kept in touch. I have a smaller version in here. The mirror in the vault is one I have not seen before. Flora did not enchant that mirror, and I know of only one other person with fairy blood and magic enough to do so. If he took the mirror to her and then brought it here, I will be having strict words with that young man. If he has brought her here to help build that thing, I will have his hide!"
