“This is the painted room,” Dalton said. “It is where you will meet Atlas each morning, following breakfast in the morning room. The easiest path to the reading room and archives is through those doors,” he added, gesturing with a sidelong glance to his left.
“This isn’t the library?” asked Reina, frowning upwards as she eyed the highest shelves. Nearby, a fern seemed to shiver with anticipation.
“No,” said Dalton. “The library is for letter writing. And, should you wish it, cream tea.”
Nico, who was standing beside Libby, silently made a face of revulsion.
“Yes,” Dalton agreed, plucking at a stray thread on his cuff. “Quite.”
“Aren’t there other people who live here?” asked Libby, peering through narrowed eyes down the corridor. “I thought this was a society.”
“Only the archives are housed here. Typically, Alexandrians will come and go by appointment,” Dalton explained. “Occasionally there will be smaller groups taking meetings in the reading room, in which case you will be asked not to disturb them, and vice versa.”
“Is it really such a simple matter of coming and going?” （Libby again.）
“Certainly not,” said Dalton, “though that, too, will be a matter of your discretion.”
“But how—”
“What Dalton means,” came Atlas Blakely’s buttery baritone, “is that there are a number of security measures in place.”
At his appearance, Callum and Tristan both turned to face the entrance, the six of them falling reflexively into a line.
“However,” Atlas continued, “part of your job as the new class of initiates is to develop a protocol that suits you as a collective. And before you ask what that means,” he assured Libby with a smile, “I’m happy to explain. As with all the most crucial secrets, there are quite a number of people who know of the Society’s existence. Several organizations have targeted it over the years for robbery, infiltration, or, in some cases, destruction. Thus, we rely not only on the charms in place, but also on the Society’s resident class of initiates to maintain their own security detail.”
“Wait,” said Libby, who was still caught on the prospect of global secrets being widely known. “So that means—”
“It means the first thing to discuss will be your proficiency at magical defense,” Atlas confirmed, as a series of chairs materialized behind each of them. “Sit, please,” he beckoned, and warily, all six of them took their requested seats; Reina perhaps most warily of all. “I won’t be long,” Atlas added as a measure of assurance. “Your responsibility this afternoon will be determining your plan as a group. I am mostly here to provide guidance before I leave you to it.”
“Has anyone ever stolen anything successfully?” asked Tristan, who seemed to be the most cynical of the group, or at least the first to voice his cynicism.
“Or actually broken in to any degree of success?” Nico added.
“Yes,” said Atlas. “In which case, I hope your magical offense is equally as refined as your defense, as you will be asked to retrieve anything that is removed without permission.”
“Asked,” echoed Reina at a murmur, and Atlas turned to her with a smile.
“Asked,” he confirmed, “politely. And from there, dealt with as appropriate.”
That was about as well-mannered a threat as Callum might have expected. This was all exceedingly British, from the dome of the so-called ‘painted room’ to the idea that they would be summoned to dinner by a gong.
Libby, of course, raised her hand tentatively in the air. “How often, exactly, are we expected to defend the Society’s…” A pause. “Collection?”
“Well, that depends on the strength of your system.” Briefly, a red glow manifested in the corner of the room, and then disappeared. “That, for example,” said Atlas, “was a thwarted attempt to enter the Society’s perimeter. Though, it’s also possible someone simply forgot their keys.”
He was smiling, so this was apparently a joke. Callum had the sense Atlas Blakely wanted very badly for them to like him; or, at the very least, he was the sort of person who always had an expectation of being liked.
“As to the subject of the… ‘collection,’ as you called it, Miss Rhodes,” Atlas said with a nod in Libby’s direction, “meaning the contents of the Library, that is a more complex matter. You will all gain access to the Society’s records in stages; as you earn the Society’s trust, you will be permitted further steps. Each door unlocked will lead to another door, which, once unlocked, will lead to another. Metaphorically, of course.”