Chapter Six #3
‘Good.’ Our conversation was well and truly over, yet still Raleigh lingered. ‘Well … goodnight, then.’
‘It’s morning,’ I replied stiffly.
‘Right, yes.’ He remained in the doorway a moment longer. ‘Good morning, then.’ And, finally, he left.
The moment I was free of him I ran down the length of the room and threw the windows open, clouds of dust motes billowing in my wake. A wave of sickness washed over me, and I stopped. Was I imagining the disapproving aura seeping through the room?
‘I’ll close the curtains before Raleigh wakes,’ I said aloud, feeling foolish.
It seemed to work. The presence dissipated and the library felt less hostile, at least until I spotted a particularly plump spider in one of the shelves moments later.
I hurried away, wishing not for the first time that Yann was with me.
Vampires I could handle. Spiders were capable of crawling into your clothes and tickling you, which was too horrific for words.
There was a room off the library that must have been Raleigh’s study.
It was littered with parchment of varying colours, strewn everywhere except the drawers they belonged in.
I plucked up one of the papers at random and found it to be a tax record from two hundred years ago.
If there was something useful in his study, I doubted I would be able to find it.
I threw the record down in disgust and backed out again.
In the main library, my next mission was to sort through the books Raleigh had set aside for me.
It would take me days of reading to get through this stack alone, but that was the least of my concerns.
I confess, I’d overplayed my English ability.
Mother’s library had only a handful of English books, two of them being volumes of Johnson’s dictionary.
My tutelage had stopped before I could fully understand the novels, and I still understood very little of her old collection of Shakespeare without referencing the German translation.
If I didn’t start studying now I’d barely make it through the book list, let alone find a cure – assuming such a thing existed.
I tried to make a start on the first book Raleigh picked out for me.
It was, blessedly, in German but had clearly been read several times, the pages yellowed and brittle, missing corners at times from being repeatedly folded down.
There were notes in the margins too, in what I guessed must be Raleigh’s hand.
There was nothing here he didn’t already know.
My eyes kept straying back to the stack of English books I’d have to read eventually.
I sighed and marked my place only a few pages in.
This was a waste of time. Rostenburg’s folklore was steeped in legends of vampires.
How much more would there be in these books that I didn’t already know?
If a cure lay somewhere in the thousands of pages around me, it would only be in one of the books Raleigh had not read. I had to work on my English.
I eventually found an English dictionary in Moira’s collection, but it was in poor condition and Raleigh’s scrawl marred these margins too, from what must have been a short-lived attempt to learn the language at some stage in the last fourteen years.
The book itself was over a hundred years old, and the binding felt like it would crumble with a breath, but it would have to do until I could convince Raleigh to buy me a new one.
I lugged it back to my desk, chose one of the English texts at random, and set to work.
By the afternoon I’d managed to make it through all of ten pages and decided that I hated English and everyone who spoke it.
At this rate I’d be lucky to make it through this book before my time was up, let alone find a way to lift Raleigh’s curse.
So I was grateful when Moira interrupted my spiralling crisis by barging in with a tea cart and insisting I eat something.
As I picked at a plate of sandwiches, Moira sorted through the piles Raleigh had left for me, criticising his choices and adding some she deemed better suited. ‘Did you read this one?’ She held up the book I’d started with.
‘Raleigh’s already read it.’
‘So have I. You should still read it. It’s very good.’
‘Isn’t the whole point of this for me to find something you don’t already know?’
‘But you can’t make art without learning the fundamentals,’ Moira said, nodding to herself as if she had offered some deeply sage advice.
‘So teach me the fundamentals.’
‘You want my advice?’ Moira asked. ‘Don’t get involved. Any cure will have a cost you won’t be able to pay. If you’re going to get wrapped up in this world, there are worse people to be stuck with than Raleigh.’
I doubted that. ‘Then there is a cure?’
Moira regarded me for a long moment. ‘One that doesn’t involve regicide?
Hopefully. Anyway, there’s no point starting with Canter-bury.
’ She pointed at the book I had open in front of me.
‘There’s debate over whether he ever actually met a vampire.
If you really do know everything in the Bergman’—she gestured to the book I’d abandoned—‘start with Harenberg and thank me later.’
‘You’ve read this?’ I asked, suddenly feeling like I’d wasted an entire morning.
‘No, but my grandfather used to swear he was a fraud.’
Her grandfather? I thought back to what Raleigh had said. It wasn’t unusual for entire families to be wiped out, whether from the famine, illness or mysterious blood loss, but there seemed to be more to Moira’s story.
‘Raleigh mentioned most of these books were yours,’ I said.
Moira avoided my eye, tracing the embossing on the title she was holding. ‘Let’s say my family had a special interest in the occult.’
‘Is that how you met him?’
‘You could say that,’ she said, then opened the book and pretended to read. I didn’t press her for more details; I’d lost enough family of my own to understand her reticence.
I waited until Moira was gone before dragging out the book she’d recommended.
She was right; it was more informative than Canterbury and far easier to read on account of it being written in German.
I’d managed to churn through a full hundred pages before Moira rang the dinner bell, which I thought was a decent effort until I looked up again at how many stacks were left in front of me.
How many books could I really make it through before I ran out of time? Whatever jubilation I’d felt drained out of me. No. I wouldn’t dwell on it. The cure to Raleigh’s affliction could be on any page. All I had to do was find the right one.