The next day, at night, my communication device vibrated. A message from Milverton. Short and concise. "James, the Ghost Librarian refused the meeting request. He said the 'story' we offered was not worth the risk of opening his archive."
I read the message twice. A rejection. A variable I had not calculated before. I had assumed everyone in the underworld had a price. Turns out I was wrong. This Ghost Librarian clearly could not be bought with money or mere promises. This made the Grivana murder case and the mystery of the Mirror even harder. I needed information only he had. If he would not give it, then I had to take it.
I got ready immediately. Dark cloak, porcelain mask. I left my rooftop residence through the roof route that had become my habit.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
My footsteps on the tiles made no sound, muffled by a thin layer of Void Essence. Below me, Clockthon was a sea of lights and shadows. I moved quickly, crossing district borders like a ghost, heading to Milverton's spider nest beneath the Jewel District.
The underground market was busier at night. This was the most active hour, when shadow merchants and their desperate clients did business under the flickering glow of oil lamps. I walked through the crowd, ignoring the whispers and wary stares. Milverton was truly a genius at hiding this place. The cover of the Ouroboros sewer was designed with a perception-muffling magic circle and illusion Essence crystals that blended it with its surroundings. Even the city guards' most thorough patrols would never find it.
The guard in front of Milverton's office opened the door for me without a word. Inside, Milverton was already waiting for me. He had removed his clown mask. The face that usually wore a mocking smile now looked very serious. His striking red hair contrasted with the dim atmosphere of the room.
"So, James, do you have another plan?" he asked as I sat across from him.
"Rejection is just another form of negotiation," I said. "It only means the price we offered was wrong. We cannot offer money or power to someone who lives among books older than this kingdom. We have to offer him something he wants more. One thing we can offer is knowledge."
"What knowledge could we offer someone called the Ghost Librarian?" Milverton asked skeptically.
"Knowledge he does not have," I said. "The Ghost Librarian lives in the Alchemy District, in an old bookstore whose façade is protected by concealment magic. He rarely goes out. His world is his archive. He may know everything about the past, but he is blind to what is happening on the streets of Clockthon right now. That is his weakness."
I leaned forward. "We will not try to meet him again. We will make him come to us. We will create a puzzle, or rather a mystery he cannot ignore. Something directly related to his collection."
"You mean?"
"I want you, through the Magpie network, to spread a rumor," I explained. "A rumor about the discovery of a fragment from the Codex Infernus, a Heretical text said to contain the true names of several Demon Princes. Spread that rumor among collectors and esoteric scholars. Say the fragment will be sold in a very secret private auction."
Milverton's eyes widened. "You are insane. Spreading rumors about the Codex Infernus will draw the attention of Churches and the Fravikveidimadr."
"You know perfectly well," I said. "It will create pressure. The Ghost Librarian as a collector of forbidden texts will not be able to resist investigating. He will try to find out who the seller is. And that is when we will catch him."
"This is too risky, James. We are playing with fire."
"We always play with fire, Milverton," I replied coldly. "The difference is, this time I will light it."
Over the next few days, we prepared our trap. For this, we did not use force because the goal was a psychological game. With his expertise, Milverton acquired an old blank parchment and made it look authentic, complete with aging marks and the distinctive scent of the Golden Age of the Gods. I used my knowledge of demon symbolism from the Throne of Nothing, writing some nonsense lines that looked like part of the Codex Infernus with alchemical ink that would fade after a few hours. Our bait was perfect.
We chose the location for our fake "auction", specifically in an empty warehouse owned by Doyle Acquisition on the border of some buildings. Remote enough to feel exclusive, run-down enough to feel authentic.
The rumor spread like a plague among collectors. Within two days, the entire Clockthon underworld whispered about the Codex Infernus fragment. As I expected, we detected activity from the Ghost Librarian's informant network. He was trying to verify the rumor's truth.
On the appointed night, we waited. Milverton and I hid on the rooftop across from the warehouse and watched silently. We did not expect the Ghost Librarian to come to the auction.
Exactly one hour before the "auction" was to start, he appeared. A thin, hunched figure wrapped in a grey cloak that covered his entire body, walking slowly down the dark alley, moving without a sound and with an Essence aura that was almost nonexistent. He was nearly invisible. If it were not for my Motley Fool perception, I might have missed him.
He did not enter the warehouse immediately. For some reason, he stopped across the street, hidden in the shadows, just watching. For nearly twenty minutes, he did not move. From here he looked like a statue, merging with the darkness. He was very cautious.
"He is not going to enter," Milverton whispered next to me. "He is too smart."
"He will enter," I said. "Because his curiosity is greater than his fear."
And I was right. After confirming there were no obvious traps, the cloaked figure crossed the street and slipped into the warehouse through the side door we had intentionally left unlocked.
Time to act.
We climbed down from the roof, moving quickly and silently. When we entered the warehouse, we found him standing in the middle of the empty room, staring at an old wooden chest we had placed in the center as a prop.
"Good evening, Librarian," I said.
He turned quickly but was not surprised, though still clearly wary. He lifted his head, and I could see his face beneath the deep hood. His face was a cracked porcelain mask, similar to mine, but older and adorned with carvings of strange symbols. Through the eye slits, I could see only darkness.
"You are not the seller," he said, his voice like the whisper of dry leaves.
"Correct," I said. "I am the buyer. I want to buy information about an antique mirror. A mirror that can reflect what should be there."
"I do not do business with masked ghosts," he replied.
"What a pity," I said. "Because I do not like to negotiate either."
I signaled to Milverton. From the shadows behind the Librarian, Aubert and two other Milverton agents appeared, surrounding him.
The Librarian did not panic. He just chuckled softly. "You think these four can hold me?"
"No," I said. "But they can slow you down."
As the agents attacked, I acted. I did not fight the Librarian directly. I targeted his surroundings. I used Shadow Sculpting to make the shadows of the warehouse pillars come alive, forming dark tendrils that gripped the Librarian's arms and legs.
He easily shattered the tendrils with a single wave of psychic energy, but that gave me the time I needed.
I lunged forward with Masquerade Step, appearing behind him. I did not try to hurt him, only touched his neck with my fingertip, channeling a bit of Void Essence. Just enough to make him feel the chill of nothingness.
He froze. "This power…" he whispered. "You…"
"I am just someone who needs answers," I said. "Now, let us talk about that mirror. Or we can continue this fun little game. The choice is yours."
He stood still for a long time. Then he slowly lowered his hands. "Very well," he said. "You win. What do you want to know?"
I had caught the Ghost Librarian. But as I looked into the darkness behind his cracked mask, I felt that I had just caught something far more dangerous than I realized. I had attracted the attention of one of the oldest and most mysterious beings in this city.
"Tell me about the Looking Glass of Ulthar," I said, mentioning the name of the mirror I found in one of my stolen books.
The Librarian chuckled again, a dry laugh full of ancient knowledge. "You really have no idea what you are playing with, do you, boy?"
He began to tell his story. And his story changed everything.
That mirror was created as a prison by the Primeval Forger to imprison a creature from another realm. A creature that devours memories and identities. A creature that can turn its victims into empty, lifeless dolls.
"Lord Paul was not murdered by someone," the Librarian explained. "He was killed by the mirror itself. You know he always carried it, which means he looked at it too often, too long in fact. The mirror slowly devoured his soul. His death was not a murder, it was simply digestion to offer his life to the mirror."
My mind spun. So the culprit was not an Evolver. The culprit was the artifact itself.
"Then who took it?" I asked.
"Anyone foolish enough to want power like that," the Librarian said. "Someone who wants to use the creature inside that mirror as a weapon. Someone who wants to rule through terror."
One person immediately came to mind. Someone who had just lost their influence at the docks. Someone known to be ruthless and without moral boundaries.
House Droct.
"Where did they take it?" I asked.
"I do not know," the Librarian replied. "But I do know the mirror cannot be controlled. It will soon seek another meal, and its next target will likely be someone with rich and strong memories. Someone important."
An alarm went off in my head. The Sovereign's Gambit. That event would be attended by all the young heirs of the strongest factions.
House Droct planned to cripple the next generation of leaders from the entire kingdom in a single night.
I had completely misread this chessboard. I thought I was playing chess, but it turned out I was sitting on a ticking time bomb.
"Thank you for the information," I said to the Librarian. "You may go."
He looked at me in surprise. "Just like that?"
"I got what I needed," I replied. "I have no more business with you. For now."
He disappeared into the shadows, leaving me and Milverton alone in the cold warehouse.
"James, what are we going to do?" Milverton asked, his voice anxious.
I looked toward the Government District. The Sovereign's Gambit would begin in two weeks.
"We will do what we always do, Milverton," I said, my mind now working with terrifying clarity. "We will change the story."
I would hijack that Gambit and turn their game into my own stage.