making her jump and turn around. Cadence was leaning against an unlit gaslight with a bored, lazy grin, but she perked up as soon as she saw Morrigan trying to hide the book behind her back. ‘Whatcha got?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Don’t lie, you’re lousy at it.’
‘It’s … it’s a book about Wundersmiths,’ Morrigan admitted. It was too late to put the thing back now.
‘And what are you planning to do with it, exactly?’ Cadence pushed away from the gaslight and crossed to where Morrigan stood. ‘You don’t have a library card.’
‘Miss Cheery will let me use hers.’
‘Not for that book. That book’s got a black tag.’ Cadence pointed at the spine. ‘See? You need a Wunsoc library card, written permission from the High Council of Elders and a level eight security clearance to borrow books with a black tag. Miss Cheery’s only got a six.’
‘What?’ This was all news to Morrigan. Her heart sank. ‘How do you know all that?’
‘My gran comes to the Gob all the time. She’s got an Unwun library card so she can only borrow books with a blue tag, but she only likes murder mysteries and books about heavy machinery anyway. Why don’t you just get something else?’
Morrigan held the book tighter. She pressed her fingers against it until they turned white. ‘I’m taking this book.’
‘That would be stealing.’
‘It’s not stealing! It’s just – borrowing.’
‘No. It’s only borrowing if you’ve got a library card.’
‘Says the girl who “borrowed” a puppy from a stranger!’
Cadence shrugged. ‘That’s different.’
‘How is it different?’
‘It’s different because I’m actually good at this stuff and you’re actually rubbish,’ she said. ‘I know how to smooth things over so nobody misses anything. And it’s different because … because this is a library, for goodness’ sake! My gran would kill me if I stole a book from a library.’
Roshni’s whistle sounded again, three short, urgent blasts. She called from the next aisle over, ‘Girls? It’s time to go, where are you?’
‘Are you going to tell?’ Morrigan whispered.
Cadence stayed silent as Morrigan clumsily tried to hide Volume Three Hundred and Seven of An Unabridged History of the Wundrous Act Spectrum underneath her summer cloak.
‘There you are! Time to go, your hour’s almost— what are you doing?’ Roshni stopped abruptly as she rounded the corner and spotted Morrigan covering the book with the folds of her cloak. ‘Do you understand how serious it is to steal a book from the Gob? Do you have any idea how much trouble you could get in? Give me the book,’ she demanded, her voice high-pitched and incredulous.
Morrigan felt her face burning. She scrambled in her brain for an excuse, for a decent lie, but came up with nothing. All she knew was that she wasn’t leaving without this book, or giving it back until she’d read every single page within its covers.
She turned to look desperately at Cadence, a silent plea for her help. Cadence stared belligerently back.
‘Please, Cadence,’ she whispered.
‘Why should I?’ her friend hissed at her. ‘You’re so weird lately. Are you really so obsessed with your ghostly Wundersmith mates that you want me to help you steal?’
‘What? I’m not obsessed.’ She tightened her grip on the book, wondering whether Cadence was really going to hang her out to dry. But at last, with her trademark eye-roll, the mesmerist gave in.
‘She hasn’t stolen anything,’ she told Roshni in a bored, reluctant voice. ‘We’ve just been having a nice conversation.’
‘What?’ snapped Roshni. ‘She’s stolen a book, I saw her!’
‘No,’ said Cadence simply. ‘She hasn’t.’
‘Yes, she has,’ the librarian insisted. ‘She’s stolen … she took a … a book. I saw …’ Morrigan heard the note of confusion creeping in, and held her breath.
‘You didn’t see anything,’ said Cadence, her voice a pleasant hum. ‘We’ve been having a lovely chat about … history or whatever. You think Miss Cheery’s scholars are just delightful. So well behaved. You’d love us all to come again.’
Roshni shook her head, trying to clear the fog. ‘I’d love you all to …’
Miss Cheery approached them, carrying a large stack of books she could barely see over.
Roshni stared fixedly at Morrigan for a fraction of a second, a frown creasing her forehead, and then an agreeable sort of blankness broke across her face. ‘Your scholars are just delightful, Maz,’ she said.
Miss Cheery snorted. ‘Delightful? Wouldn’t go that far. They’re all right. Give me a hand with these, will you, Rosh?’
Morrigan watched as the librarian and the conductor split the pile of books and carried them back down the