The Glass Books of the Dream Eaters

Just as when you sank Trapping in the river!”
    Xonck paused, the tip of his blade within lunging range of Svenson’s chest. “I serve
myself
.”
    Svenson looked down at the saber tip and snorted—even as Miss Temple could feel the trembling of his hand. “Of course you do—just pardon my asking—what has happened to Herr Flaüss?”

    For a moment, no one answered, and Crabbé was glaring at Xonck to
keep going
when the Contessa spoke aloud, picking her words carefully.
    “Herr Flaüss was found to be…disloyal.”
    “The gunshot!” exclaimed Miss Temple. “You shot
him
!”
    “It proved necessary,” said Crabbé.
    “How could he be disloyal?” croaked Chang. “He was your creature!”
    “Why do you
ask
?” the Contessa pointedly demanded of the Doctor.
    “Why do you
care
?” hissed Crabbé to her, behind Xonck’s back. “Francis,
please
—”
    “I just wonder if it had to do with Lord Vandaariff’s missing
book,
” said Svenson. “You know—the one where his memory was—what is the word?—
distilled
?”
    There was a pause. Miss Temple’s heart was in her mouth—and then she knew the momentum toward their destruction had been stalled.
    “That book was broken,” rasped the Comte. “By Cardinal Chang in the tower—it killed Major Blach—”
    “Is that what his
ledger
says?” Svenson nodded contemptuously to Roger. “Then I think you will find
two
books missing—one with the Lady Mélantes, Mrs. Marchmoor, among others—and another—”
    “What are you waiting for?” cried Crabbé. “Francis! Kill him!”
    “Or you
would,
” crowed Svenson, “if there was a second book at all! For to distill Robert Vandaariff’s mind into a book—a mind holding the keys to a continent—to the future itself!—would have opened those riches to any one of you who owned it, who possessed a
key
! Instead, the man given the task to do just that did
not
create a book—so yes, there is one book broken, and another never made
at all
!”
    The Contessa called out firmly to Xonck—“Francis, keep watching them!”—before turning to Crabbé. “Harald, can you answer this?”
    “
Answer?
Answer
what?
Answer the—the desperate—the—”
    Before the Minister could stop sputtering Chang called out again, a challenge to Roger. “I saw it myself, in Vandaariff’s study—he wrote it all down on parchment! If I hadn’t smashed a book they would have had to do it themselves—convincing you all that Vandaariff’s memories were gone, when
they
held the only copy!”
    “A copy I took from the Minister himself,” cried Svenson, “in a leather satchel—and which Bascombe took from me in the ballroom. I’m sure he still has it with him—or is that what Flaüss noticed when he joined you at Lord Vandaariff’s study…and why he had to die?”

    In the silence Miss Temple realized she had been holding her breath. The words had flown so quickly back and forth, while in between stood Francis Xonck, eyes shifting warily, his blade an easy thrust from them all. She could feel the fearful state of Svenson’s nerves, and knew Chang was tensed to futilely spring at Xonck—but she could also sense the changing tension in the room, as the Minister and Roger groped to refute their own prisoners.
    “Aspiche took the satchel from Svenson in the ballroom,” announced Xonck, not turning to the others. “And Bascombe took it from him…but I did not see it when we met up in the study.”
    “It was packed away,” said Caroline Stearne, speaking quietly from her place. “When all was being readied for the journey—”
    “Is the satchel here or isn’t it?” snapped Xonck.
    “I have its contents with me,” said Roger smoothly. “As Caroline says, safely stowed. Doctor Svenson is wrong. They are Lord Vandaariff’s planning papers—notes to himself for each stage of this enterprise. I do not know where this idea of Lady Mélantes’s book comes from—
two
books—
no
books—”
    “Doctor Lorenz identified the missing book as Lady Mélantes’s,” spat Svenson.
    “Doctor Lorenz is
wrong
. Lady Mélantes’s book—also containing Mrs. Marchmoor and Lord Acton—is safely stowed. The only book missing—the one broken in the tower—is that of Lord Vandaariff. You can check my ledger, but anyone is more than welcome to look in the books themselves.”
    It was an effective speech, with just the right amount of protest at being accused and an equally moving touch of professional