‘Got it.’ Ivy nodded firmly. ‘You go distract Dad while I hunt down the vampire records room. The sooner I find out the truth about that mystery Twenty-First Law of the Night, the better for Maya and Brendan.’
‘Are you sure you can find it by yourself?’ Olivia asked, with a frown.
Ivy shrugged. ‘The Vorld Vide Veb says it’s kept in the basement of the museum. It can’t be that hard to find a set of stairs leading down towards the basement, right?’
‘Girls? Is that you?’ Charles’s voice sounded nearby, along with the echo of hurrying footsteps coming from the main display room. ‘I need an opinion on my Triptych placement. I’m just not sure . . .’
Olivia winced and shooed Ivy off. ‘Run,’ she whispered, ‘before you’re trapped, too!’ Then she raised her voice. ‘I’m coming, Dad!’
‘Don’t worry,’ Ivy whispered. ‘I won’t abandon you for long, I promise.’
Ten minutes later, though, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep that promise. So far, all she’d found was a jumble of corridors that curved and crossed in chaotic patterns obviously designed to make sure no bunnies could accidentally stumble across the vampire records room.
Ivy would have appreciated the security a whole lot more if she didn’t feel so lost! The scattered lanterns that lit the halls became fewer and fewer . . . and as she turned down another corridor, lit only by a distant lantern at the very end, she finally had to admit . . .
I’m actually scared of the dark! I really am the worst vampire on the planet this week.
Fighting the unease that made her want to run straight back to her twin, Ivy forced herself down the corridor. You’re doing this for Brendan, she reminded herself.
At the very end of the corridor was a rickety-looking old door with a wrinkled, crumbling sign that read: DANGER! KEEP OUT!
I can’t stop now. Ivy turned the handle and pulled the door open . . . revealing a pitch-black stairway that led down into a pool of shadow.
To a bunny, it might have looked like absolutely nothing was waiting downstairs. Ivy’s hypersensitive vampire senses picked up something different in the darkness, though: the smell of books and candlelight.
Jackpot!
Ivy cautiously felt her way down the creaky wooden steps, feeling them judder underneath her feet. The darkness was so complete she had to hold out her hands on both sides to balance herself against the narrow walls. At the bottom of the staircase, she stepped forwards – and bumped straight into another door. This one wasn’t rickety, though. It felt like it was made of solid, foot-thick steel, built to block out light or sound.
A moment of fumbling later, she was turning the handle and stepping into one of the most fabulous rooms she had ever seen.
Light filled the massive library, and ancient-looking stone pillars lined the walls. Is the museum basement really this big? Ivy wondered. Or does the library just keep going forever underground? She couldn’t even see a far wall, only rows and rows of bookshelves receding into the distance.
Stone faces peered down watchfully from the tops of the pillars, and the smell of old books was overwhelming. Ivy wondered, if the library was this old then what was the librarian like?
Then she almost snorted. Did she really have to ask? She knew exactly what the librarian would look like: a vampire version of Ms Milligan! Some older vampire woman with sensible shoes and a dowdy style. Oh, and glasses, definitely – big glasses.
Like it or not, though, Ivy still needed a librarian’s help. She started towards the big mahogany desk near the front door, gasping out loud as the door behind it swung open and the librarian stepped out.
OK, this I was not expecting!
From his carefully styled dark hair to the crimson scarf swept around his shoulders, the black silk jacket he wore over a billowing silver blouse, and his perfectly tailored black jeans, he looked the exact opposite of how Ivy imagined librarians . . . and he also looked about twenty-five years old, at most, though Ivy knew he was probably much older than that.
‘Really, my dear,’ the librarian said, twirling a silver fountain pen between his fingers at impossible speed. ‘This is against the rules. Haven’t your parents explained? This library is for adult use only.’
‘I know,’ Ivy admitted. If it weren’t for that stupid rule, she wouldn’t have had to bring Olivia along to distract Charles from noticing her library visit! ‘But I have something really important to research, and this is the only place I could think to come for answers.’
‘Hmm.’ The Librarian tapped the fountain pen against his lips. ‘In that case . . .’ He swept a flowing bow that made his long scarf flutter. ‘Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Pierre.’
‘I’m Ivy.’ She smiled in relief. Not only was there a definite light of mischief in his eyes now, but she’d recognised the faint lilt of an accent in his voice, as faint as the hint of a Transylvanian bass in her father’s voice, which told her that Pierre had probably emigrated from France a long time ago.
In other words, he wasn’t merely older than he seemed – he was aged. And that meant that he was exactly the right sort of vampire to help her with her problem.
As he straightened, Pierre flashed her a grin. ‘I tend not to be a stickler for the rules myself,’ he murmured, ‘but I’m not sure I can let a girl your age run free through my library. I don’t mind you doing research down here, but you must have supervision. Agreed?’
That sounded fair to Ivy, especially since she had no idea where to even start. ‘Could you help me?’ she asked. ‘I was hoping to find out about the Laws of the Night.’