‘Who?’ Ya Yu demanded.
Irene turned to face the Queen. ‘Your majesty, I think it unlikely that Hu visited Jin Zhi without a single person in her entourage seeing him. Her servants, her own bodyguards, her attendants – they will have seen him. I understand that Jin Zhi doesn’t want to betray someone who claimed to be acting in her interests, but I believe that in this matter she and Qing Song are both betrayed. And the witness to Hu’s other reprehensible behaviour? Evariste’s daughter. If you believe me, your majesty, then I beg you to have her found and brought here. She is old enough to answer questions. She is old enough to tell what happened to her.’
And Hu’s composure cracked. For a moment his face was disfigured by a brief flash of fury and utter despair. He had it under control a moment later, but it had been long enough, visible enough. Everyone had seen it.
A whisper of movement ran around the room. The weight seemed to lift from Irene’s shoulders, to be replaced by a vast and improbable hope of success. Did I do it? Is that enough? I think I did it . . .
‘Stop.’ It was Qing Song who spoke. ‘Your majesty. I request permission to make my apologies.’
The entire emotional tempo of the room changed. The tension snapped. It was as if a cold wind had passed through it, cooling the growing rise of earthquake anger and bringing a sort of release. The courtiers had caught the emotional resonance as well: there were sidelong glances and nods. Whatever Qing Song meant by ‘apologies’, things were now falling into what the nobles considered to be the proper pattern.
Ya Yu sighed. She opened her hand again and extended it towards Qing Song. ‘You may do so. I grant you permission as a noble of the Winter Forest family and as a member of my court.’
Qing Song bowed his head. He turned to Jin Zhi. ‘To you, madam, I . . .’ He trailed off, as if certain things were outside his vocabulary. Finally he said, ‘It is true that I broke our pledge, and on my servant’s advice I broke the rules of the challenge and employed a Librarian. I apologize for that, and for all other matters that are unresolved between us.’
Jin Zhi’s eyes glittered like gemstones. The fern-patterns of dragon scales showed on the skin of her arms and face. ‘I do not regret anything.’
‘I will take that with me,’ Qing Song said.
He looked at Evariste. ‘Your daughter is being held at my household in Zagreb: the Queen’s servants can take you there. My servants there will surrender her to an official request. I . . . realize that my threat may have been . . .’ He looked for words again. ‘Unkind.’
‘Is that an apology?’ Evariste rasped. Irene could hear the unspoken profanities, the sheer anger, behind the barely controlled snarl of his voice. But his sheer relief almost drowned it out.
‘Yes,’ Qing Song said slowly, as though he could not quite believe he was lowering himself to apologize to a Librarian. To a human. ‘I believe it is.’
He turned to Hu. ‘You,’ he said. ‘As you were my servant, I accept full responsibility for your actions, and for any advice that you gave me, and which I took. But I now dismiss you from my service.’ The scorn in his voice was just as much for himself as it was for Hu. His body was tense with anger, with self-disgust and despair.
Hu stood alone. He was as white as chalk. Nobody else was even looking at him or acknowledging his existence. He was, Irene realized, effectively a non-person among dragons now: he had no rank, no power, and he had been caught breaking what should have been his greatest loyalty. He’d played for the highest stakes and he’d lost. His petty ambitions had nearly started a conflict that could have dragged down the Library and involved both ends of reality. His life now hung on the Queen’s mercy, and Irene didn’t think she was feeling merciful.
Qing Song turned away from Hu and glanced at Irene. ‘I make no apologies to enemies,’ he said, ‘and you have been mine, Librarian. However, I grant you my respect.’
Irene bowed her head in response. She could guess what was going to happen next, just as she would have been able to do at any theatrical tragedy, and it didn’t help. There was nothing she could do to stop the pattern of events she had unleashed. She knew that she’d done the right thing for the Library, for Evariste and for herself, but at the same time she regretted what would come next.
Finally Qing Song turned to Ya Yu. He stepped forward and went down on one knee before her throne, in the same manner as earlier. ‘Your majesty,’ he said. ‘I apologize to you and to my family for my failure.’
‘Your apology is accepted,’ Ya Yu said. She gestured, and one of the guards walked across from by the door. He drew a knife from a sheath at his side and offered it to Qing Song.
Evariste’s indrawn breath broke the silence. He hadn’t guessed how far the apology was going to go, Irene realized. Her hand clamped down on his wrist and she met his eyes, trying to communicate, There’s nothing we can do now. And Qing Song admitting his guilt has saved you – and saved the Library.
This was someone else’s story. The Library should never have been involved in it in the first place.
Qing Song took the knife. In the deathly hush, he set it against his chest and thrust.
The only sound was his body crumpling to the ground.
He lay there, looking as human as Irene herself, or Evariste, or Lucky George, or Captain Venner, or any of the people that Irene had met over the last few days. Death had no respect for him: it did not straighten his limbs, or restore him to a dragon’s form, or stop the blood that slowly pooled on the floor. The assembled nobles were still, giving him some form of final acknowledgement.
‘Jin Zhi,’ the Queen said. ‘Attend me.’
Jin Zhi knelt beside Qing Song’s corpse. The hem of her gown trailed in the pool of his blood. ‘Your majesty,’ she said.
‘You will receive Minister Zhao’s place.’ Ya Yu’s glance flicked to Qing Song’s body. ‘Since your fellow competitor has admitted defeat, and since you have kept to the rules of the challenge, you are the victor. I will take your oath in full court tomorrow.’ Her eyes hardened. ‘It is my wish that no vengeance be taken over any part of this matter. You will embrace our visitors and part from them as allies. Is that understood?’
Jin Zhi swallowed, and Irene could see her throat working. ‘Your majesty. I lied earlier in court before you. Should I also apologize?’
Ya Yu sighed again. ‘I have already lost one servant today, child. Your work and your life will be your apology to me. Rise. Mei Feng, attend me: we must discuss the new minister’s position. And let Qing Song’s body be removed and returned to his family for the funeral.’