Hood stares silently across the table at Madeleine. Hood will always stare in silence.

“You know, I think I know why you like libraries so much,” says Madeleine to Hood, returning his stare, the smile of her mask seeming to imperceptibly curve even more. “But that’s by the by.”

Hood doesn’t respond, just continues to stare.

Madeleine continues to hold his gaze, evaluating his countenance. “You know, if I knew you at all, I would surmise that you’ve already worked out exactly what we have to do, indeed it wouldn’t surprise me if you’ve actually spent most of the days since you’ve found that parchment considering everything upon it from every conceivable angle of interpretation. Would I be correct?”

Hood nods slowly, nods guiltily, looking at Helmet to see if he’s disappointed, which he genuinely does seem to be, his entire physicality sagging in response to Hood’s nod.

Madeleine sees the effect of Hood’s confirmation and strangely feels sorry for Helmet. “Don’t worry Helmet, I’m sure there will be other things to get excited about soon.” Madeleine says trying to console him.

“Yes, I believe you’re right, but there’s nothing more exciting than a treasure hunt.” he replies disconsolately.

Madeleine turns to Hood: “So, what do we need to do?”

Hood continues to look silently at Madeleine, then taps his fingers slowly and rhythmically on the table top before him, intimating patience.

“We have to wait?” queries Madeleine.

Hood nods.

“Intriguing…”

Helmet sighs again.

“Well, if we’ve got some time, that means that we can have a go doesn’t it?” Madeleine says to Helmet, encouragingly, in an attempt to cheer him up - or more perhaps in an effort to allow her own mind to relax somewhat from the pressures of the previous hours’ events.

“By gosh, I think you’re right.” Helmet responds, enthusiastically. “We could have a stab at it ourselves - in fact we could try and work out how Hood worked it out couldn’t we? So let’s start. What do we know about Hood?”

“Well…” Madeleine begins, feeling slightly out of her comfort zone but, realising that she has put herself in this situation, decides that she should probably commit to it. “He likes magic and he likes logic, and he can generally put two and two together.”

“Yes, four,” responds Helmet.

Madeleine drops her head back in confusion. “Yes…four…” she repeats, understanding obviously that two and two makes four, but not understanding how relevant this is to what she’s just said.

“So we’re looking for four things, is that correct?” asks Helmet.

Hood’s face constricts in bemused confusion at the non logic of Helmet’s logic, but he rasps a short laugh and nods to confirm that Helmet is actually right.

“Wait, we’re actually looking for four things?” queries Madeleine.

Hood nods again.

Helmet looks expectantly at Madeleine, “Well….keep going. This line of reasoning is obviously bearing fruit. What else do we know about him?”

Madeleine looks at Hood fondly. “Many things, but none are relevant to what’s going on here…except…he operated the door mechanism based off something on the parchment. Something that is…let me see…here it is.” She points at a diagram in the bottom right corner which highlights four protrusions cast upon circular arcs, with dabs of red ink at particular places along the arcs.

“Now, logic!” Helmet says, leaning forward in his seat then righting himself as if trying to make himself comfortable. “Logic - a thinking man’s magic. Let us say for the sake of argument that the mechanism on the door there, made as it is from iron, an iron similarly found in the lamp chains and the stair cases, is a design feature utilised by the original architects and builders of this grand edifice. Moreover, let us assume therefore that the door mechanism is original to, and was fitted by, these self same builders, and thus those who designed and built this grand monument to the preservation of knowledge and understanding understood themselves, to a fine degree, the intricacies of such mechanisms both on a small but also a large scale,” he says deductively.

“I see where you’re heading with this,” says Madeleine, looking about the library to justify what she is about to say next. ”And as far as we can tell, this library is just a single vaulted room with little else to its construction. And we know that as a building, along with its foundations, the library is sealed from any underground access from the wider city. Which means that given that there cannot be a secret chamber within the library there must be one…“

“…beneath the library!” they both say in unison.

Hood, stretching back in his seat, puts his hands behind his head, lifts his feet up onto the table, and stares at the ceiling.

“How are we doing Hood?” asks Helmet.

Hood just closes his eyes and raises a single thumb up into the air.

“So, we’re on the right track at least. Now I bet, though I’m not a gambling type, but I’ll stake my honour upon…um, no maybe not…erm…” Helmet prevaricates.

“How about a vow of silence?” suggests Madeleine hopefully, feeling that she may have hung around with Hy-Jinx too long, as she recognises an element of gentle but ever so slightly spiteful mischief in that utterance.

“Yes, a vow of silence! A worthy and noble offering, indeed, and suitably meaningful as a wager. Yes. I will vow to remain in silence should my belief be wrong that the means of opening this secret chamber is similar nay almost identical to the construction of that door lock. We are therefore looking for four things to move, four moveable things, which somehow, by moving to some place, will unlock something, that will allow us access to the secret chamber. Now…”

Hood opens his eyes, sits forward, stands and stretches. Ignoring Helmet’s further ramblings which unusually Madeleine seems to be encouraging, Hood looks carefully about the library chamber and wanders over to the stacks, summoning a dim purple orb to assist him as the dawn light, lightening and strengthening as it is, is still not sufficient to suitably illuminate the room. He lets his eyes flick along the bindings and where there is nothing written, lets his fingers do the walking, occasionally randomly pulling out the odd book whose cover looks interesting. Hood moves from stack to stack, continuing in this manner, but nothing really captures his attention. Dusty tomes of dry histories, compendiums of classical ballads. An unusual book on heraldic motifs which although visually interesting for a quick flick through doesn’t really hold any depth or weight to it. Eventually, a thick book on the construction of harpsichords holds Hood’s interest and, lying upon the floor and opening it up he soon becomes lost in its pages, only dimly aware of Helmet and Madeleine hurriedly walking up and down the length of the library along different aisles looking for something and occasionally shouting backwards and forwards to one another. As Helmet approaches, Hood shuffles himself out of the way and suddenly starts flapping wildly, feeling a movement in his smock. His mind races to the worst conclusion, a mouse must have found its way in! Jumping up to his feet, he pats himself down, brushing and sweeping his garments and shaking his legs in an attempt to rid himself of the intruder. But nothing appears. Trying to calm himself, he breathes deeply then feels again a strange rustling vibration, as if a butterfly is flapping its wings in his pocket. Hesitantly and with some trepidation he reaches into his pocket, his nervous fingers searching and feeling, all the while the vibration continuing, and finds the envelope that Madam Masque handed him a few hours earlier. Grasping its edges and pulling it forth, the vibration is definitely coming from within.

Hood is now utterly intrigued. Helmet ambles past.

“I’m loving this Hood! And I believe we’re nearly there. About three more minutes and I think we’ll have this solved!”

Bsssszzzzz - with Helmet passed, Hood suddenly become aware of a strange buzzing sound coming from the ground shelf of the stack that he’s next to. Bsssszzzzz - again, perfectly in time with the vibration coming from the envelope. Hood kneels back down, the sound and the vibration increasing in intensity. Bringing the small purple orb to bear, Hood carefully peers at the line of books before him. Bsssszzzzz. Something is moving and quivering on the shelf, halfway along, jostling for attention. Hood brings the envelope closer and watches, transfixed as the two items seems to tremble violently, resonating with one another, the book on the shelf twitching and jumping backwards and forwards violently, the envelope flapping backwards and forwards in his grasp. Hood puts the envelope into his satchel and carefully reaches for the book on the shelf, drawing it out and examining its title in the cold purple light.

The Lapidary of Falcus

- a reproduction with commentary on one of the late age’s great artistic works.

Hood doesn’t recognise the title and has to strain his brain to remember what a Lapidary is. Lapidary…lapidary…Eventually remembering it as any book or treatise describing the properties of gemstones or more accurately of a particular gemstone or gem type.

He flicks open the book, to find a mesmerising array of beautifully drawn and painted pictures of gems and crystals, along with notes and titles detailing properties, histories of use and potential mining locations. Deep in thought he walks to the nearest desk and places the book upon the table, going back to his satchel to retrieve the envelope.

The intensity of Hood’s absorption causes Madeleine to stop on her next approach. “What have you got there?” she enquires, almost breathless, having lost herself in the giddiness of her previous endeavour. Hood looks up slowly, holding the envelope before him and bringing it near to the book. Madeleine steps back in surprise as the two objects exhibit their unusual behaviour.

“I say what’s all this?” asks Helmet, drawing near. Hood repeats the exact same action. “Ah!” says Helmet in such a peculiar manner that it is difficult to ascertain whether he is surprised, disappointed or actually understands exactly what’s going on. Regardless he doesn’t seem particularly interested in the reaction: “You know I think we’ve sussed it. It’s the iron ladders. There are four of them, set into grooves which can be pushed along the stacks. We just have to work out the positions.”

Hood looks up and shakes his head. Helmets shoulders drop. “I could have sworn we were right!” he mutters.

“Why don’t you open the envelope?” Madeleine urges Hood, who steps back from the table and recalls what Madam Masque said when she handed it to him: ‘Do not open it until you know it is safe to do so’. Hood considers the situation carefully…

Continues to consider the situation carefully…then makes a decision. He thoughtfully extinguishes the glowing orb that has been hovering to the side of him, just in case he needs what little energy reserves he has left. The light coming through the stained glass windows is stronger now and sufficient enough, if not to sweep away the darkness, at least to hold it gloomily at bay. In the lightening gloom he looks momentarily at Madeleine, then Helmet, then back to Madeleine. Then, holding the envelope in front of him he slowly opens it and peers inside.

Inside the envelope are four carefully folded pieces of paper. Each slightly different in colour, texture and appearance - each looking like a page taken from a book. He places two fingers inside and fishes one out, moving it towards the open book on the table. Nothing. He tosses it carefully upon the table, then draws out another, repeating the process. Again nothing. He tosses this one onto the table also. Withdrawing the third, a slight tingling ripples his fingers, and as he moves it closer to the book, the vibration increases. Not only that, the book on the table begins to jump and thump, the pages turning this way and that. Helmet just stands almost stoically, looking on, whilst Madeleine is stretched forward, utterly intrigued. Hood tosses the envelope with the final page still in it onto the table and then opens up the page that he is holding. His eyes narrow with thought as his face twists slightly with confusion. He recognises it almost immediately - how can he not? - he’s just been reading this exact page only moments ago. It is identical in every aspect, a well composed spread of information detailing a beautifully constructed geometric picture of a chiselled gemstone, immaculately painted to give the illusion of shining reflection.

He moves it closer to the book on the table and as the resonance between the two things increases, he becomes aware of an almost magnetic pull between them. Allowing himself to move the page even closer, the book’s pages flip to reveal the exact same page as the page Hood is holding. Suddenly as if a mighty wind is buffeting across the single sheet that Hood holds, it ripples and flies from his grasp, smoothly adhering to the page that is there and for want of a better description intermingles with it so that it, in effect, vanishes or at least appears to vanish - if it were not for a slight hazy fuzz that surrounds the page, as if it is possible to shift focus between two seemingly identical things occupying the same space.

“What in the nine hells?” exclaims Madeleine.

Hood just stands there in utter bewilderment, trying to wrack his brains, trying to remember if he has ever read anything in the innumerable texts that he has poured through in his lifetime which have ever described such a phenomena. Nothing.

He glances up at the coloured sunlight pouring through the windows behind him. Then back to Madeleine and Helmet. “Quick. Search!” He rasps, indicating the two pieces of paper upon the table, whilst picking up the envelope with the remaining one for himself.

“TREASURE HUNT!” shouts Helmet loudly and with great enthusiasm, picking up one of the pages and sallying forth along the line of stacks. Madeleine takes the other and proceeds with slightly more caution.

Hood continues to stare thoughtfully at the book upon the table before turning and beginning his search.