Miss Camherst made a point of telling me I should examine the provenance of anything I purchased, and so I thought that would be enough to keep me safe from any underhanded dealings. But I greatly fear now that I have unwittingly involved myself in crime! Whether the disc was stolen from Mr. Ryland or provided with a false history to cover up his ownership I cannot say, but I fear I have unwittingly purchased something illegal, which is a phrase I never thought I would have to write. (I haven’t the faintest idea why Mr. Ryland would wish to hide his connection with it, as this is a perfectly respectable artifact, not at all like those vulgar ones I know some people like to collect for their private entertainment—and I imagine the ancients made them for that same reason, thus inclining me to think they are not so different from human beings as some would claim.)
Regardless, I feel certain the documentation Emmerson’s provided me with is fraudulent, though who committed the fraud I cannot guess. Please do write back and advise me in the best way to proceed, as I do not wish to trouble Miss Camherst, on account of what I have read in the newspaper about her recent difficulties in Falchester, though no doubt those have been magnified all out of proportion by the reporters, who do so dearly love a scandal. (I am sure you can understand that I very much wish to avoid a scandal myself.)
Cordially,
Annabelle Himpton
Lady Plimmer
From: Isabella, Lady Trent
To: Audrey Camherst
9 Caloris
Thokha, Tser-nga
Dear Audrey,
It has come to my attention that the phrase “What would Grandmama do?” has been heard to pass your lips. Based on what I have heard concerning you lately, it seems that you are labouring under a misapprehension, and I think I had better correct it before it leads to serious harm, for you or someone else.
I can hardly deny that at various points in my life I have involved myself in any number of dangerous situations, and often on grounds that an outside observer might deem to be foolhardy. But the accounts of your behaviour I have from your father, Simeon, Lotte, and other observers give the impression that your habit is to ask “What would Grandmama do?” . . . and then, having identified the most reckless action available to you, to embark upon that course without delay.
This is not, and never has been, what your grandmama has done. Nor is it a course she can advise to you, since she has a perverse desire to see her grandchild survive to an age even older and riper than her own.
Have I been reckless? Of course I have. But it was never for the sake of recklessness, never—or at least, as rarely as my self-awareness could arrange—simply for the sake of proving a point. My foolhardiness has generally come about because my eyes were fixed so firmly upon my goal that I failed to note the cliff’s edge beneath my feet . . . or because, having noted that cliff, I judged it to be of lesser significance than what I might gain.
Perhaps I misjudge you. Perhaps you have indeed made that calculation, and decided that charging a line of Hadamist protesters is the right and necessary thing to do, or breaking into Aaron Mornett’s hotel room in the middle of the night, or following Mrs. Kefford around Chiston and eavesdropping on her conversations before slapping her publicly. I was not there, and even had I been, I would not have been privy to your thoughts. Only you can judge for yourself whether this is indeed the case.
I would be the last person to tell any descendant of mine that she should not pursue her dreams with all the passion and fearlessness she can muster. But be sure it is your dreams you are pursuing, and not some lesser thing: notoriety, the esteem of the foolish, or a reputation to rival my own. I sincerely hope you achieve that last—but you will only do it by being yourself as wholeheartedly as I have been myself. Anything else is mere mimicry, and beneath you.
Have a care for yourself, Audrey. The rest of us certainly do.
Your loving grandmama,
Isabella
A Catalogue of Tablets from the Gleinleigh Cache
examined by Eugene and Imogene Carter
transcribed by Cora Fitzarthur
Tablets 1–14
12.1 cm by 10 cm by 3.1 cm
A continuous text relating a mythological narrative concerning four culture heroes of the ancient civilization. Physical characteristics date the tablets to the Classic Period, but the text is written in Early Draconean.
Tablet 15
8 cm by 5.5 cm by 3 cm
Fragmentary queen list from the southern Anthiopean state.
Classic Period.
Tablet 16
9.2 cm by 4.7 cm by 2.8 cm
Fragmentary queen list from the western Dajin state. Late Period.
Tablets 17–26
10.1 cm by 5 cm by 2.9 cm
Taxation records; region unknown. Late Period.
Tablet 27
5.4 cm by 4.8 cm by 2.3 cm
A personal letter. Textual evidence suggests origin in Otholé.
Downfall Period.
Tablets 28–34
6 cm by 4.2 cm by 2.6 cm
Fragmentary taxation records from northern Anthiope. Early Period.
Tablet 35
4.1 cm by 3.9 cm by 2 cm
Fragmentary prayer. Formative Period.
Tablet 36
8.7 cm by 6.1 cm by 2.5 cm
Narrative text in the form of a dialogue. Textual evidence suggests origin in Eriga. Classic Period.
Tablet 37
5.3 cm by 4.1 cm by 3 cm
Formulaic demand for tribute by Queen Takšuti to her vassals in the Broken Sea. Late Period.
Transcriber’s note: I think Tablet 37 may have been included by mistake in the shipment sent to the Carters for analysis. When I was packing them up, I recognized that one; it has been in Uncle’s collection for years.
FROM THE DIARY OF AUDREY CAMHERST
9 Caloris
I take back everything I have said against Cora.
Kudshayn and I were hard at work this afternoon on the next-to-last tablet when she came in with a folder in her hands. I’ve still been tensing up whenever I see her, and she knows it, because she stood there as rigid as the day we met and waited until I acknowledged her before she said anything. Then she thrust out the folder and said, “The Carters wrote back with what they’ve gotten through so far. I made a catalogue.”
“Thank you,” I said, because I’ve been trying to be civil. “I will look at it later.” She just went on standing there until I got up and took the folder from her. Then she walked out of the library and banged the door behind her, and I couldn’t tell if that was her way of showing she was angry with me, or sad. Either way, I didn’t want to lose my train of thought, so I dropped the folder on the table and went back to wrestling with something I think may be a reference to the origins of the three ancient Draconean military orders.
After all, it was just a catalogue. Nothing we sent to the Carters looked like it had anything to do with the epic, so why should I interrupt my work to examine it? Half the reason I recruited the Carters was to make sure that got taken care of without me having to worry about it.
I don’t know how much time passed. When I’m engrossed in work, you could fly a desert drake through the room and I probably wouldn’t notice. But eventually I heard Kudshayn say my name in a tone of voice that penetrated the fog of declensions and determinatives, and I looked up.
The catalogue was on the table in front of him, and Kudshayn was tapping one claw-tip in the steady rhythm that says he’s puzzled by something. “What is it?” I said.