Titch teetered along the balcony rail, balancing precariously over the shrubbery below. Igail kept a close eye on him but wasn’t too concerned about him falling off. They were only one storey up and, as far as she was concerned, the fall might knock some sense into him.

Gart leaned back in the chair and let out a long sigh. “How many rooms are they going to move us to?”

“I wouldn’t even call this a room,” said Fen. “It’s more like a corridor.”

They were in a long gallery at the back of the Palace. Plush, velvet-covered chairs faced an open balcony overlooking the Royal Gardens. Guards stood at both ends. So far, they had met with four different officials to get papers signed and permits stamped.

“It’s the Palace bureaucracy,” said Igail. “They’re famous for it.”

“Read that in a book, did you?” said Gart, shifting uncomfortably in the comfortable chair.

“Yes,” said Igail, “I did.”

“I’ll give them ten more minutes,” said Gart, “and then I’m going to beat the location of the library out of one of these guards. We can go get the book ourselves.”

“You’re not beating anyone,” said Igail. “We have a whole year before the double eclipse. Waiting a few days won’t kill you.”

All three brothers turned to look at Igail.

“A few days?” Titch hopped down from the balcony rail. “I’ll beat the information out of them myself.”

Igail grabbed him as he tried to walk past her and spun him until he landed in the seat next to Gart.

The door at one end opened and a man entered. He was tall and thin, in his thirties but with a youthful face and carrying some authority, judging by the way the guards all stiffened in his presence.

He walked toward the four children, his steps firm and purposeful. His clothes, on the other hand, were somewhat frivolous. Buckled shoes, white stockings, short britches and a lilac jacket that stopped at the waist in front and continued down to his knees at the rear.

“Hello.” His voice was high and tuneful, and he spoke very fast. “I do apologise for keeping you all waiting. I’m afraid you’ve caught us at a rather bad time. The sewage workers are up in arms about working conditions, creating a bit of a stink, as it were—ha ha—however, that’s of no interest to you, of course. Oh dear, I seem to be rambling, haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Oblon Reese, the Under Secretary to the King’s Personal Secretary. It’s a pleasure to meet you all. Perhaps I can be of some assistance?” He clasped his hands together and looked expectantly at the children.

The children stared back at him, somewhat dazed by the endless introduction.

Titch managed to speak first. “Why does your jacket have a tail?” HIs eyes lit up. “Do you have a tail?”

“Oh, you mean this.” The Under Secretary turned slightly and flapped the coattails about. “I’m afraid it’s what we call fashion. A method to get people to buy things they don’t need on a seasonal basis. I’m told it helps with the economy.” He raised his hand and twirled a finger. “Keeps the money circulating.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” said Titch. “Do you have a tail, yes or no?”

“Er, no.”

Titch’s shoulders drooped. “Shouldn’t get a person’s hopes up like that.”

“Can we meet the King now?” Gart asked in a tired monotone. “That was the whole point of giving our father the medal, right? An immediate audience with the King?”

“Indeed. And he’s very keen to meet you all. But the sewage workers… things really can’t be left to fester, ha ha. So he sent me on ahead to see if maybe there was something I could do. I assume you have a request or a reason to drop in on us like this. I mean, if it isn’t a private matter. Or I can give you a tour of the Palace while you wait. Hopefully you’ve already been entertained by our lovely gardens.” He waved a hand towards the open balcony.

Igail stood up. “We want to visit the library. There’s a book we’re looking for. We won’t take it, just read it and make a few notes. That’s all we want. We don’t even have to see the King. In fact, we’d rather not.”

The Under Secretary raised his eyebrows. “The Palace Library? That’s all you want? Well then, that’s no problem at all. Follow me!”

The Palace Library didn’t match the one in The Vale in either size or atmosphere. It was bright and airy with high ceilings and walls covered with shelves filled with colourfully bound books. The colours had been arranged in blocks, forming elegant sweeping patterns across the walls. The person responsible for arranging the books in such an eye-pleasing manner sat at a desk by the door.

Titch ran into the room ahead of the others. He spun around, taking in everything. His face dropped. “Is this it? Just one room?”

The Under Secretary stopped by the desk. “This is our young Miss Zeline, the assistant librarian. She knows every book here by heart. Isn’t that right, Miss Zeline?”

The girl was sixteen, with a plain face that soured easily. Her voluminous corkscrew hair was bunched into a loose ponytail and her clothes were simple and unfussy. Compared to the Under Secretary’s, they were positively mundane.

“No,” she said, “that isn’t right, Mr Under Secretary. It would be insane to suggest it was.” She gave him a withering look he completely ignored.

“These are guests of the King. Very special guests, so I know you’ll treat them accordingly.” He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Of course. How can I help.” She smiled, technically.

“Excellent,” said the Under Secretary. “Then I shall leave you in her capable hands. I have to go see a man about a sewage pump. Don’t ask. Once you’ve finished, or if you need further assistance, please inform one of the guards and they’ll summon me post-haste. Until then, happy hunting.” He took a step back, bowed his head, then spun on his heels and walked out, leaving guards either side of the door.

The girl picked up the book in front of her, opened it and began reading as though she were alone in the room.

Gart and Fen exchanged glances. Igail lifted a finger to try and attract the girl’s attention, but Titch pushed her aside and banged sharply on the desk.

“We’re looking for a book, it’s called The Demon’s Egg. Where is it?” The girl peered over her book at him, emanating waves of go-away-you’re-bothering-me. Titch leaned across the desk. “And I don’t know how you can call this a library—where are the bats and the cobwebs? And it’s so small. You should call it the book closet.”

The girl pulled a face. “Bats and cobwebs would be bad for the books, and very unhygienic. No decent library would allow something like that.”

“The one in The Vale does, and it’s a lot better than this one.”

She put the book down. “You’ve been to the Great Library in The Vale? I’ve always wanted—”

“Ahem,” coughed Fen. “Titch, see that ladder?” He pointed at the tall ladder resting against one of the walls.”

Titch followed the direction of Fen’s finger. “Yes.”

“It’s on wheels.”

Titch’s mouth dropped open, this time in amazement. He abandoned all thoughts of speeding up the book finding process and ran to the ladder, leaping onto it and whizzing along the wall at inadvisable speed.

“The book,” said Igail, “The Demon’s Egg, do you know where it is?”

“No. We don’t have that book here.”

Igail screwed up her face. “Miss Zeline, I was told it would definitely be—”

“It’s just Zeline. The Under Secretary likes to call all the young women ‘Miss’ because he thinks it’s charming. Which I guess it must be seeing as how he’s sleeping with half the maids in the Palace.” She gave the strong impression she did not find the achievement impressive.

“Just by calling them ‘Miss’?” asked Fen, giving the strong impression he found the achievement incredibly impressive.

Zeline narrowed her eyes. “Oh, so you’re one of those boys.”

“Those boys?” Fen inquired, certain he was being insulted somehow.

“Zeline, please, this is important,” said Igail, keen to keep things on track. “Isn’t there a storeroom or secure place for more valuable or important books?”

A flash of something, a memory perhaps, passed over Zeline’s face. “You would have to ask the librarian himself about that.”

“Okay,” said Igail. “Where is he?”

“He’s indisposed.”

“Can you tell him we’re here?”

“No. He doesn’t like to be interrupted when he’s indisposed.”

Fen scratched his chin. “Is she saying he’s in the toilet?”

“No,” said Zeline, “I’m not. The librarian is the Chief Magi—the court magician. He’s with the King dealing with the workers’ dispute, you know, grown up problems.”

“Finally,” said Gart. He turned to one of the guards. “You, go tell the Under Secretary we need to see the Chief Magi immediately.”

The guard turned to leave.

“Wait,” said Gart. “I know you’re going to go through all the correct channels and chain of command and all that, but frankly I don’t have the time or the patience, so I want you to bypass all of it and go straight to the Under Secretary yourself.”

The guard looked confused.

“Think of it as an emergency, like the Palace is on fire, which it will be if the Magi isn’t here in ten minutes, starting with this room which I will turn into the world’s biggest indoor bonfire. And just so you have an idea of just how annoyed I already am, I want you to take this image with you.”

Gart turned and took a step towards the large desk and kicked it. The desk was no flimsy piece of furniture. Just by looking at it you could tell it was well-built and solid. It skidded across the room and slammed into the far wall, knocking books out of their shelves.

“Got it?”

The guard nodded, turned and fled while the other one stared straight ahead like he hadn’t seen anything.

Zeline sat there, holding her book over an empty space. She slowly turned her head to look at Gart. “Are you insane?”

“What’s wrong with you?” said Igail. “There was no need for that.”

“Really?” said Gart. “Do you really think we’re going to save the world by filling out forms and getting them countersigned in triplicate? Kicking a few desks is the least of it. Fighting dragons is nothing compared to dealing with pointless bureaucrats and useless bints like this one.” He pointed at Zeline.

Zeline stood up and slapped Gart across the face.

Gart stood there for a moment, not moving. Then he tilted his head to look at her, no animosity or anger in his expression or voice. “Was there something you wanted to say?”

“I am not useless.” Her eyes blazed with fury.

“Yes,” said Gart, “you are. I’m not entirely sure what your duties are here, but I know you aren’t good at them. If you weren’t here, would anything change? See? Useless.”

Zeline’s hand twitched, preparing to strike again. Gart held out his face invitingly.

“Gart! That’s enough.” The snap in Igail’s voice drew his attention to her. “She hasn’t done anything wrong. Leave her alone.”

“What’s the matter, Sis? Wondering how I can possibly be so arrogant and boorish?”

“I’m wondering what kind of man you’re turning into, and if I’ll end up being ashamed to call you brother.”

Gart bobbed his head from side to side, thinking it over. “But we’re trying to save the world. Isn’t that more important than a few hurt feelings and a couple of broken desks? Don’t I have the right to lie, bully and beat my way to get what I want in the name of the greater good? That’s why we’re here aren’t we? Because you’ve decided it’s for the best?”

Igail chewed on her bottom lip. She understood the point her brother was making. He considered his approach to getting what he wanted no different than hers. But that didn’t mean he should be allowed to behave in such a horrible way.

“Yes” she said, quietly but firmly, “it is important our mission succeeds, but even the Demon God understood the value of good manners.” She pointed at Zeline. “Apologise to her.”

Gart smiled, not quite able to believe the audacity of the little girl he towered over, who commanded him without hesitation and expected to be obeyed.

“He doesn’t have to apologise,” said Zeline. “An insincere apology means nothing. I’m sure the your mission to 'save the world' is very important and justifies your awful behaviour. But I am curious why you’re so determined to save the world when you clearly care so little for the people who live in it.”

“I’m not,” said Gart. He pointed at Igail. “This is all her idea.”

“Ha, ha. You sound just like your father.” A man walked into the room accompanied by the guard Gart had sent off. He was short with a potbelly, a tiny beard but large moustache, and eyes that sparkled. He wore a coat, with a suit under it, a waistcoat under that, and a frilly shirt under that.

“Are you the Chief Magi?” asked Fen.

“Indeed. Lenovo, Court magician to the King. Gart, Fen, Igail and there should be one more. Ph yes, there.” He pointed to the blur sliding along the back wall.

“About time,” said Gart.

“Please forgive my brother,” said Igail. “He’s been in a foul mood all day.”

“Oh, that’s perfectly fine. Compared to your father, he’s a paragon of tolerance and diplomacy. We had to have the whole library remodelled after Davidor's last visit.”

“Wheeee,” said Titch as he whizzed past, leaning back so everything appeared upside down. “Are you a wizard?”

“Well, yes, I suppose I am.”

Titch jumped off the ladder, letting it clatter into the end wall. “Why aren’t you dressed like one then? Where's your robe with stars all over it and your pointy hat?”

Lenovo looked down at himself. “You don't like this? I’m afraid it’s fashion. Helps the economy somehow. I think it’s all the pockets, makes it easier to carry around more money. Now, you’ve come all this way, the least I can do is offer you a nice cup of tea. Let’s retire to my parlour.”

He walked to the back wall and pushed down on a book. There was the sound of a catch releasing and a door opened.

“Secret door!” said Titch, eyes gleaming.

“Lizzie, be a dear and bring us some tea, would you?”

Zeline nodded, but gave Gart a caustic glare.

Gart smiled. “Yes, Lizzie, and see if you can do it without curdling the milk.”

Zeline, affectionately called Lizzie by Lenovo, and unaffectionately by Gart, turned in a huff and walked out. Gart, still smirking, followed Lenovo.

Fen laughed. Igail thumped him in the arm. “Don’t encourage him.”

“I disagree,” said Fen. “We should definitely encourage him. That’s the most attention I’ve ever seen him pay a girl.”

Igail pursed her lips. “What are you talking about? They obviously hate each other.”

Fen patted his sister’s head. “You read so many books, yet understand the human heart so very little.”

Igail swatted his hand away. “I’m beginning to understand why you can never keep a girlfriend for more than a day.”

“Ouch,” said Fen. “Cutting.”

Behind the secret door was a small room with old but comfortable chairs around a fireplace. Lenovo set to getting it started.

“I take it you are after this book because you believe the Demon God will be returning ahead of schedule. The next double eclipse is less than a year away, do you really think he will reemerge then?”

“Yes,” said Igail. “Tas Tel Muir Ley agrees. That’s why we need to find the awakening chamber and destroy the egg.”

“Ah, well, if Tas Tel Muir Ley has verified it, I’m not one to doubt it is the case, even if it is a little worrying.” He straightened up, having arranged logs in the fireplace. He snapped his fingers and they burst into flame. “Still, a united human and Elven initiative will be a wonderful thing to see. It’s been too long since we fought side by side.”

“The Elven won’t be going,” said Igail. “There’s a magical barrier around the awakening chamber. No one over 21 can enter.”

A smile cracked Lenovo’s face. Then he burst into laughter. He paused to look at Igail, then resumed laughing.

“What’s so funny?” said Igail, perplexed by the reaction.

“Nothing really. It’s just that if you’re going to try to fool me you need to borrow from a better source than Shannara Stone, Elf Detective.”

Igail placed her face in her palm. “Don’t tell me you’ve read it too.”

Lenovo smiled even more. “Read it? My dear girl, I wrote it.”