Free The Library at Mount Char by Scott Hawkins

McGillicutty’s sanctum sanctorum. Some yellow sauce bubbled gently on the stove next to the ingredients—cream, eggs, butter. Mrs. McGillicutty stood before her encyclopedic spice rack, tapping her cheek with a finger, considering. “I’m out of the fresh ones,” she said apologetically, waggling a little plastic lemon.
    Carolyn smiled. Mrs. McGillicutty was a gentle soul. All she really wanted out of life was to be feeding someone.
And she’s
really
good at it too
. Breakfast turned out to be something called Eggs Benedict. Carolyn, normally indifferent to food, had two helpings. When she could eat no more she waddled off to clean herself up.
    Coming out of the bathroom she saw that Peter’s eyes were open, watching her. Silently, she held one finger at a particular angle on her chest. This angle corresponded to the height that the sun would be in the sky at around ten a.m.
    That was when Peter would meet her and Michael at the bull.
    According to Rachel’s ghost children, Nobununga would arrive sometime today. He would meet with all of them eventually, but Carolyn had arranged that she, Michael, Peter, and Alicia would have a privateword first. Peter nodded silent understanding. Alicia wasn’t awake yet, but Peter would pass the word along.
    When she got back to the kitchen, Jennifer was at the table. In front of her sat a steaming mug of black coffee.
    “Good morning,” Jennifer said in Pelapi.
    “Good morning. Did you sleep well?” Her smile was warm and genuine but, even though they had their privacy, she did not show Jennifer the sign she had exchanged with Peter. She liked Jennifer well enough, but at the meeting with Nobununga they would discuss matters of life and death. In Carolyn’s estimation, Jennifer had drowned in her smoke and her fear a long time ago.
She is of no use
.
    Mrs. McGillicutty looked over her shoulder at Carolyn. “Could you ask your friend if she’s hungry?”
    “She’ll have some.” Then, to Jennifer, “I hope you’re hungry.”
    Jennifer groaned. “I’m still recovering from dinner. Is it
really
good?” Carolyn gave her a grave nod. “It’s ridiculous. I don’t know how she does it.”
    With real glee, Mrs. McGillicutty stirred a pot of simmering water and cracked an egg into the vortex.
    Jennifer sighed. “OK. Fine.” She opened up the little leather pouch she kept her drugs in and sighed. It was almost empty. “I don’t suppose you thought to—”
    “Yeah,” Carolyn said. “Matter of fact, I did.”
    Jennifer grinned. “My hero!”
    Carolyn went to her bag and pulled out a foil-wrapped brick about the size of a paperback. She tossed it to Jennifer. “There you go, Smoky.”
    Jennifer turned the brick over in her hands, eyeing it doubtfully. “What’s this?”
    “It’s called hashish,” Carolyn said. “I think you’ll like it. It’s the same stuff you usually get, but more concentrated or something.”
    Jennifer unwrapped the brick, sniffed it, pinched off a piece. She crumbled it into her pipe and lit it. A moment later: “Whoa!”
    “You like?”
    She nodded. Smoke trickled out of her nostrils. She coughed a little,then blew out the smoke with a satisfied sigh. “My hero,” she said again. She took another puff, then offered the pipe to Carolyn.
    “No, thanks,” she said. “Bit early for me.”
    “Suit yourself.” She took one last puff, then stashed the gear in her pouch. They sat in silence for a while, watching Mrs. McGillicutty cook.
    “The poor woman,” Jennifer said in Pelapi. She was shaking her head.
    “How do you mean?”
    “She has a heart coal. It’s very distinct.”
    “She has a what?”
    Jennifer gave her a quizzical look. “I thought you spoke all languages?”
    “I do and I don’t,” Carolyn said. “I mean, I understand the words you used, but they don’t mean a lot to me. I’m guessing it’s a technical term? Something…from your catalog?” Then, hurriedly, “I’m not asking you to explain!”
    Talking