[Agatha]

"This stuff doesn't work," I grumbled. I had tried to close my eyes and get myself lost in the sound of Doctor Bailey's voice, as per his instructions, but had failed so far. I was beginning to think that the containment straps were severe overkill. In the end I had closed my eyes, but nothing had happened. "Are you sure you ain't missing something?"

"Pretty sure, my dear girl."

I frowned. I had kept my eyes closed for no more than a few heartbeats, but now the doctor's forehead was shiny with perspiration. Not just that: his lab smock was drenched with sweat on his chest and under his armpits, and he had bloodshot eyes.

The monks at the microscopes had disappeared, and the other two were standing one on each side of my chair. I could see their feet. I tried to turn my head, but it was immobilized.

"What happened, doctor?"

"You happened, my dear Agatha." He fished a handkerchief from a pocket and wiped his forehead. "Never found anyone harder than you to deal with. Been trying to extract the information for nearly four hours. To no avail."

"No way," I snorted. "I barely closed my eyes."

"You closed your eyes at ten to nine a.m. Now it's lunchtime."

I opened my mouth to reply, but right on cue my stomach growled with hunger.

Damn.

"So?" I asked.

"Don't worry," Doctor Bailey said. "Now we'll take a break, then we will start again after lunch. Some subjects are particularly resilient to extraction. It's already happened. I know how to deal with it."

"You just said you never found anyone more difficult than me," I pointed out as the monks began undoing the straps.

"Yes, I did. But there are books. Studies. Research. I'll come up with the solution."

"Without resorting to drugs."

He looked suddenly disheartened. "As long as I can."

***

"Wanna know who's Tristan's new girlfriend?" Saoirse chirped.

Tristan and I both choked on our baked beans. I tried to say something but began coughing again. Jack knocked me patiently on the back. I wiped my mouth with the napkin and tried to clean up some of the mess I had just made all around the bowl.

Probably it wasn't more than a couple dozen people in all, but I felt like the whole dining hall was staring at me.

I gulped down a glass of water.

"Shut up, Saoirse," Tristan growled.

"There's nothing wrong about it," Saoirse pushed on. "I mean, she's older than you and looks like she could break you like a twig, but she's got a pretty smile. Love is a beautiful thing."

I inhaled deeply to avoid another fit of coughing.

"Who told you that?" Jack inquired.

"About Tristan and the giant nun? It's breaking news. Everybody in the girls' dorm is talking about it."

"Didn't notice I had a charmer at hand," I grinned.

"One girl's trash is another girl's treasure," Jack said deadpan.

Saoirse and I burst out laughing under Abbess Litvin's appalled stare.

I finally managed to get a grip. "So, have you found anything of interest?"

"Not yet, but I'm getting there. I just found the right section of the newspaper archive. Probably I'll start finding the good stuff this afternoon. How about you?"

I shrugged. "Doctor Bailey wasn't able to hypnotize me properly. We'll try again later."

"One more thing." Tristan leaned forward on the table and lowered his voice. "We are all Manticore Library students, okay? That's the official line."

"Got it."

***

[Tristan]

I found the section of the year 4195 on the top shelf of the stack, just a few inches from the ceiling. I'm not a short guy, but I had to stand on tiptoes to reach it. I had no idea which month of the year the Miracle of Finisterre had happened, so I started with January and began leafing through the magazines.

And found it in the May issue of the Finisterre Monitor.

The article was under the byline of one Hans Jakobs, whose picture at the end of the text showed a walrus-like greaseball with an uncannily white goatee perched atop a series of hanging jowls.

I put the Monitor momentarily aside and continued the search. And found more. The South Haeata Reporter. The Echo of the Bay. The Gentlemen's Quarterly Review. And more. From May to October 4195, the Miracle of Finisterre had been front and center of every magazine.

I was still alone in the Current Events and Latest News section of the Library, so I sat down on the wooden walkway and began reading.

***

[Agatha]

I came back to my senses to the sound of a steady stream of curses from Doctor Bailey.

"Hey, there's a girl here," I protested. "Watch your mouth."

The Doctor gasped in surprise as if he was expecting anything but me waking up. I looked down at my arm and frowned. There was a small piece of cotton wool taped to my left elbow crease, and I could smell a strong tang of antiseptic. There were two other people with Doctor Bailey, a monk and a nun, both of them wearing lab smocks, transparent goggles and rubber gloves. They too looked surprised.

The nun came to my chair and fished a penlight from her breast pocket. She had a wrinkled and shriveled face under a mane of white hair. She aimed the light at my eyes, first the left one, then the right one, moving the light in small circles and examining me closely.

"That's most interesting." She turned around and looked at the monk. "Are you sure the dosage was correct, Doctor Godefray?"

"Your question offends me, Doctor Estrada," the monk shot back. "The dosage is most certainly correct. There are differences from every subject to the next, of course, everybody has got their own metabolism, but at the dosage I used she should have been unconscious for two hours more at least."

"Please, go ahead," I snorted. "Keep pretending I'm not here."

The nun, Doctor Estrada, looked like she had noticed for the first time I wasn't a piece of furniture but something you could actually interact with. "How do you feel, miss...?"

"Agatha Manticore," Doctor Bailey promptly supplied.

"How do you feel, Agatha?"

"Fine. A little groggy, but fine." I glared at Doctor Bailey. "You said the drugs were the last resort, doctor."

"They are," he sighed. "I tried everything I know. I failed. Now, as per Abbess Litvin's orders, I have to secure Doctor Estrada and Doctor Godefray's services. They are respectively our chief surgeon and our chief chemist. You are in good hands."

"Lucky me."

***

"We are important people," Saoirse stated at dinner.

I frowned and tried to focus. My head was very heavy, and I felt like I had a wet blanket all over my body. The bread tasted like cardboard, and the soup was totally insipid. Damned drugs. "Why?"

"A Royal Marines boss gave us explanations."

I shook my head. The fog was still there. "And?"

Saoirse shrugged and drank noisily from her glass. "Grownups always order us around and tell us to shut up when we ask a question. That guy told us all we needed to know, and then more. Couldn't he just tell us what to do like all the other grownups do?"

"Maybe he wanted to show us that we can trust the people at the Library," Jack suggested.

"Why should he care?" I grumbled. "Tristan? Any breakthrough about the Miracle of Finisterre?"

"I've been looking into the newspapers. I've found bits and pieces, but I'm still failing to get the big picture. Guess I'll have to dig deeper."

"Do that, dude. But hurry up if you really want to get somewhere. According to the captain we are leaving in a few days."

"Sure thing."

***

[Tristan]

It was mid-morning, and Sister Hinewai was having a snack. It was a cheese and salami sandwich as wide as a shovel blade and easily two inches thick, dripping mustard and mayo from the edges. I was pretty sure I could have survived a week on that amount of food. She was eating it at her station behind the reference desk but had placed a handkerchief on the counter to avoid making a mess.

"Tristan, what a pleasant surprise," she burbled, covering her mouth with a hand. "Found what you were looking for?"

"Yes, thanks, mostly," I whispered. The half dozen nuns and monks in the reading hall were already giving her the stink eye because she was eating, and I was pretty sure they could hardly wait to have a reason to kick me out of there just to get back at Sister Hinewai. "I was wondering if you could help me some more."

"Sure. Shoot."

"Um, first I could really use a notebook and a pencil."

Balancing the sandwich in one hand, she opened a drawer behind the counter and pulled out a notebook, a pencil, and a sharpener. "Here they are."

"Thank you very much. Then I need your assistance to find the Ancient History section of the Library."

She took a big bite out of the sandwich and frowned. "What for? I mean, that's none of my business, all right, but weren't you interested in news articles?"

I gulped. As a covert operative, I guessed I'd have been in front of a firing squad in a matter of minutes. Besides, the big girl was so sweet that deceiving her made me feel uneasy. "Well, that's for school, yes. But ancient history has always been my favorite pastime." Which wasn't a lie, technically speaking, only it wasn't the real reason behind my interest. I had skimmed through the newspapers for the entire day before, but I had found out that if I wanted to understand what had actually happened in Finisterre, I needed background. The events of Finisterre revolved around the Invisible Light, and I knew precious little about it. I had to take a crash course in ancient history.

"You and me both," she winked. The sandwich disappeared in a couple of giant bites. "Back home at Callisto, there was only a small library in town. I think I read every book by age ten. My dad wanted me to become a farmer like him. I mean, just because I won the caber toss contest when I was eleven doesn't mean I'm only good at heavy lifting."

"The kids' contest?"

"What? Good heavens, no. First overall. Anyway, luckily my mom understood I'm not made for manual work and sent me here."

I nodded. "Same here." Which was an outright lie.

Sister Hinewai wiped her mouth with the handkerchief, stuffed it in a pocket of her robe and stood up. "You're lucky. Typhon Library is renowned for its collection of cutting-edge studies about the last decades of the Age of Monsters. I mean, if you are more interested in the Storm Ages, you'd be better off in Wyvern Library, and if you want to go as far back as the Age of Wonders, Tarantasio Library is the place to go. You won't find more books about the Age of Wonders and the early Age of Monsters than in Tarantasio Library. If the end of the Age of Monsters is your thing, anyway, this is the place to be."

"Sister Hinewai," a wizened monk called. "We can hear you. Your whispers are louder than most of us shouting."

"Yes," a nun added from a desk nearby. "Please, take the poor boy where he asks. And take your time. We'll try to manage without you here."

Sister Hinewai grinned.

"The end of the Age of Monsters suits me just fine," I whispered.

"Awesome. Let's go."

***

[Agatha]

"Attempt number three," Doctor Godefray said. "Three o'clock in the afternoon. Sodium thiopental and 3-quinuclidinyl benzilate, dose for a body weight of two hundred and fifty pounds." He was drawing a clear liquid from an ampule with a syringe. Beside him, Doctor Bailey was taking notes on a notepad.

It was a big syringe.

"The girl weighs about a hundred and twenty pounds," Doctor Bailey pointed out.

"A hundred and ten the last time I checked, thank you very much," I growled.

"That's more than twice the recommended dosage, and we are approaching the lethal dose fast."

"I have the antidote ready," Doctor Estrada said. The old bat had another, even bigger syringe in her hand.

"That makes me feel a hell of a lot better," I snorted.

"Go ahead." Doctor Estrada nodded at Doctor Godefray.

"Wait a minute." Doctor Bailey sounded worried.

"I said go ahead, please, doctor." Doctor Estrada's voice was cold as ice. "The protocols are clear. We have to extract the information."

"The poor girl is scared to death."

I opened my mouth to contradict him but closed it again right away.

I was scared to death.

"Blindfold her," Doctor Estrada ordered. "Sensory inputs are auditory anyway with that kind of cocktail."

"That's what I call problem solving," I growled as Doctor Bailey found a black handkerchief in a drawer and wrapped it clumsily around my head.

"Sorry," he whispered.

I frowned.

I barely had the time to wonder why he was doing this, that with a prick and a burning feeling I got my jab, and the world went dark.

***

"Still nothing?" Abbess Litvin's voice.

I came back to my senses gradually but swiftly. I was feeling clear-headed and sharp, which was weird. If I had understood correctly, the old geezers had administered me a dose vastly bigger than yesterday, and even bigger than the first of the morning, yet the effects of the drug were already wearing off. Even the aftereffects of the drug were milder. Last night's supper had been an unpleasant affair, and even after the first jab earlier this morning I had thrown up all over the place. Doctor Bailey had been quick to undo the straps to prevent me from suffocating in my own vomit, and then the lab minions had had to wipe the floor and the chair with soap and find me clean clothes. A novice robe, but at least it was clean.

Now I was feeling almost like I had just woken up from a nap. No nausea, no grogginess, no giddiness. I was feeling as sharp as a razor.

I made a conscious effort to keep my breath under control and my body limp. I really wasn't looking forward to another jab. Maybe I could pretend to be still out cold long enough to make them call it a day.

"Still nothing?" Again, more impatiently.

"Still nothing." Doctor Bailey sounded dejected.

"Dosage?"

"For twice her body weight."

"And still she doesn't respond?" Skeptically.

"No. She goes under, but then nothing. We can't reach her subconscious. It's like there's some kind of wall we can't penetrate."

"That's most uncommon. Not to say regrettable."

"I've retrieved dozens of knowledge backups. I'm an expert at hypnosis techniques. It has never happened before."

"Use a higher dose. Make it for a four-hundred pounder."

"I'd advise against it," Doctor Godefray chimed in. "We are already well beyond the standard tolerance levels for her age and bodyweight bracket. It could kill her."

"So? If she dies, she dies. If we can't retrieve anything from her, she's useless anyway."

All at once I felt very cold.

"Maybe it's something in her blood," Doctor Godefray said cautiously. "Maybe it's her blood that's holding us back."

"Are you talking about High Blood here, Doctor Godefray?"

Your High Blood is strong. I suddenly remembered Stargazer's words the first time we met. Your High Blood is strong, almost untainted.

"Maybe." Doctor Godefray sounded unsure. "It's just a suggestion anyway. I'd need to perform further investigation to be sure."

"What's the girl's name again?"

"Agatha Manticore." Doctor Bailey. Apparently, the others hadn't bothered to memorize my name before turning me into a pincushion. "She's a foundling. Manticore Library staff named her after the Library."

"We lack the necessary instruments to investigate here," Doctor Godefray insisted. "We should transfer her to a more equipped facility."

"Forget it. The traces of High Blood people are carrying these days aren't strong enough to be that effective, even among the students singled out by the Order of Remembrance for that breeding program of theirs. Try again with a higher dose in the afternoon."

"What if she dies?" This time it was Doctor Estrada who was worried for my welfare. I was impressed.

"I already said I don't care."

"No, I mean, how about her friends? They are gonna ask questions."

I rolled my eyes behind the blindfold. Thank you for your understanding, you old bat.

"Put the corpse in the furnace and tell them she ran away. Hang bed sheets from a window. Forge a farewell note. Hell, do I always have to think about everything around here?"

***

NEXT UP: Tristan begins to get a more accurate picture of the millennia-old events leading to the Miracle of Finisterre, but for every answer more questions come up. In the meanwhile, Agatha keeps being treated as a pincushion by Dr. Bailey, to no avail.