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And why?

Drummond didn’t know, but it worried him.

He had planned to take the Book of Doors from Cassie. After Barbary had shown up, he had wanted to get her and Izzy somewhere safe and then take the book from them. He almost had done it, when Cassie had let him look at the book in Lyon. But he had recognized it as one that should have been in the Fox Library. He had given Cassie the book back, because he had wanted her to bring him to the library so he could check.

“And it meant you could come home,” he said, nodding at his own ulterior motive.

And here he was, the library as safe as he had left it, and the book he was sure was the Book of Doors had remained in its cupboard, untouched. He didn’t know if it was reassuring or worrying.

He stood up and returned the book to cupboard number six.

He had to stay with Cassie until he knew the answer, he decided. He had to find out how she had come to possess the book.

He was surprised to find that the idea of staying with her was not unappealing; quite the opposite—if anything it cheered him a little.

“Why?” he asked the quiet room.

On the surface, the answer was simple: because he had enjoyed the time he had spent with Cassie and Izzy. After the deli, after Hugo Barbary, those few minutes drinking coffee and eating croissants in Lyon had made him happy. He had said much more than he would have expected, answered their questions more openly than was probably wise.

“Because you’re lonely,” he admitted to himself.

He missed his friends. He missed talking about the books. He was tired of being alone.

He nodded to himself as he came to terms with this truth. He returned to the desk and sipped his tea.

He was scared of the woman. He still had nightmares about that night in New York ten years previous, when his friends had died. He was terrified of what she would do if she got hold of the Book of Doors and used it to access the Fox Library, what she would do with all of the books. But he couldn’t leave Cassie alone to face the dangers she was unprepared for. And he had to find out how she had gotten hold of the book.

“Some time travel jiggery pokery,” he said, smiling to himself. Because that phrase had been used before in the Fox Library.

Drummond stood in the window, remembering a night with his friends in the library, and discussions about time travel.

“So, we have four categories,” Wagner said, standing at the old blackboard like a schoolteacher, chalk in hand. Drummond was sitting in his armchair watching, holding a tumbler of whisky. Lily was leaning against the window, the dark night beyond her, her eyes closed as she dozed lightly after dinner, and Yasmin was sitting opposite Drummond, her cheeks reddened by the warmthfrom the fire. She was nibbling on a piece of shortbread. Outside the night was full of wind and rain, drops being thrown against the window from the darkness, and in the room the air was warm, and the fire was crackling. It was a comfortable place to be.

“Four categories,” Drummond said. “Run through them again.”

Wagner nodded. “Books that affect the external reality of the physical world,” he said, pointing his chalk at the left side of the blackboard. “Books that have an impact on the internal state of humans—Book of Joy, Book of Despair, Book of Pain, Book of Memories.”

“Yes,” Yasmin said. “Emotions and feelings.”

Wagner hesitated, thinking about that. “Emotions and feelings,” he said, and then scribbled those words at the bottom of the list, as if they were a potential alternative-category title. “Then we have what we are loosely calling the superpower books. Books that can give those who wield them superhuman powers.”

“Is Lily asleep?” Drummond asked, peering across the room to her. Wagner turned to look briefly.

“Ja,” he concluded. “Too much rich food. Lots to digest.”

“I heard that,” Lily mumbled sleepily, without opening her eyes.

“Book of Speed,” Yasmin said, brushing crumbs of shortbread from her lips. “Book of Faces. Book of Shadows.”

“Book of Control,” Drummond said.

“Hugo Barbary’s book,” Lily said from the window, the name sounding like a swear word in her mouth.

“Ghoul,” Yasmin agreed.

“And then the fourth category,” Wagner continued. “Books that seem to have some sort of an effect on the laws of the universe.”

Drummond stood up and stretched, and then took a few steps over to the blackboard.