Chapter 17 - Footprints

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Brooke ran her fingers gently across the spines of the ancient tomes in the Glaive library, her eyes closed as she reached out with her mind, searching for the faintest traces of either Capper or Gliss in the room.

Her talk with Rune hadn't given her much more to go on than what Finbarr had already reported, but he'd directed her at least to the correct part of the library. In her early days with Glaive, Brooke had spent a lot of time down here, trying to embrace the new life that had been thrust upon her, learning the histories of her new family, but rarely had she thought to delve this far back into the lore of the world.

With Finbarr out keeping an eye on both Capper and Gliss in the city, that left her free to pursue less conventional avenues of enquiry. So she returned to the room where she'd found them a few nights ago, like revisiting the scene of a crime. With years spent honing her skills with the clans meditation tutors Brooke knew how to trace the vestiges of an Aspect, especially a powerful one like Capper's. Even Gliss, despite her apparent low-born stature had a disproportionately resonant presence. It was like following footsteps in soft snow, trying to track them before another layer could fall and cover them up.

Luckily this room of ancient texts didn't see many visitors. Aside from Rune's barely detectable Aspect the only firm presences she could identify were her two culprits. But culprits of what?

For the best part of half an hour she patrolled the room, fingertips roaming over the delicately preserved spines with the gentleness of a warm breath. She closed her eyes, focusing her Aspect as she'd been taught, pushing it out from her body in a bubble of ethereal energy, waiting for it to meet the residue of the other vampires who'd inhabited this space. On she went, book after book; shelf after shelf.

Many of the volumes still held the faint lingering sensation of either Capper or Gliss, or both. She noticed that most of those with Gliss's mark on them were written in ancient Vampyr. She squinted, thinking back to the lessons of her induction into the clan. Her knowledge of the language was a little rusty, but she could make out the titles well enough. What she saw only deepened her confusion. When Finbarr had mentioned myths and legends he hadn't been kidding.

Eventually, unable to pick a specific tome, she started hauling them off the shelves at random; any that had the slightest hint of Capper and Gliss would have to be examined. Squinting under the light of the gas-lamps she started trawling through the ancient scripts, looking for any clues to what they were looking for.

Touching them helped. As her fingers brushed the ancient pages echoes of their investigations could be felt. Following the strongest vibrations through the tomes she, at length, managed to hunt down some particular passages they'd focused on. Wandering, obtusely written passages from aeon-dead scholars and monks filled her mind with wild stories and monstrous imaginings. She frowned, trying to disentangle the myths from what she could recognise as reality without much success. This was glorified folklore dressed up as historical record.

Brooke saw nothing here that would have been of interest to either of them, but unless her senses were badly failing her, this miasma of half-truths and fairy tales had been what held their attention the most. Stories of warlords from before the clans, before Veridian Shores washed over her like murky river-water. But in one passage she did spot a word she recognised that had survived the march of legends: the Drucatta. Her fingers rested against that page, feeling the strength of Gliss's Aspect skulking there. What tied the ancient vault of the Baelock Clan to their investigations of these ghost stories?

Feeling a headache beginning to swell behind her eyes from reading the ancient Vampyr glyphs, she lit a cigarette, tearing her eyes away and thoughtfully burning her way through it as she tried to make some sense of her findings. What possible link could their be between these fictions and fantasies and the most powerful clan in the city? She'd been privileged enough years ago on a delegation to the Baelock estate to actually see the entrance to the Drucatta – an impregnable monument of stone and metal that would defy all comers. And more importantly, what could Gliss want with it?

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