Tutto’s insides grumbled — again. One of this drawers was flung out — again. Another card pirouetted into the air, somersaulting to land in Mayhap’s palm. Tutto looked over her shoulder as Mayhap read the words aloud: “The Book of Records: Details Concerning the Residents and Ex-Residents of Straygarden Place.”
“Ah, you see,” said Tutto. “This time you have received the correct card.”
Seekatrix barked happily.
Mayhap was relieved, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the previous card. She stared at the new card in her hand.
“Aren’t you going to ask for it, then?” said Tutto.
“Yes,” said Mayhap. “Yes, of course. Could I please take a look at” — she consulted the card, careful to get the words exactly right — “The Book of Records: Details Concerning the Residents and Ex-Residents of Straygarden Place.”
Tutto and Mayhap both scanned the library’s shelves.
Then Mayhap caught sight of a large book taking its time to wriggle out of a shelf, as though it had been jammed in too tightly. As soon as it freed itself, it flew through the air, descending toward her.
Mayhap’s knees buckled when she caught it. Its cover was shiny — a deep scarlet with gilded lettering.
“Might be best to put it down and flip through it carefully,” said Tutto.
Mayhap carried the thick book over to one of the reading tables. Tutto squeaked on his wheels behind her, and Seekatrix scratched at her leg when she sat down, wanting attention. “Shhh,” she told him, patting his head.
The pages were as thin as sheaves of voile. Each one was divided into columns: Name, Lost Quality, Date of Arrival, Date of Departure, and Notes.
Mayhap read out the words in the Lost Quality column, struggling to pronounce them because the smell of coffee had lodged itself deep in her lungs. “Language. All sweet smells. Silence. Mornings. Harmonious music. Decision-making.”
Tutto read over her shoulder: “Hellos and goodbyes. Good tastes. Imagining. Color.”
“Good tastes,” repeated Mayhap. The name of the man who had lost good tastes was Algernonian Greft, and under the notes section there was one word: Deceased. Mayhap twitched. This was the man the Mysteriessa had told her about.
“Go to the end of it,” said Mayhap. Her blood had turned to coffee, and it was pumping through her. She was drowning in the smell of it.
Tutto flipped to the back of the book with his nose to read the last entry. “Ballastian, Cygnet and Bellwether. Daughters: Winnow, Mayhap, and Pavonine.” His gaze lingered on the column labeled Lost Quality. “Sleep,” he read.
“There’s a note next to it,” said Mayhap. “Residents given droomhunds to cope. It’s just what she said.”
“Just what who said?” asked Tutto.
“Oh, no one.”
She scanned a few more pages. As far as she could see, no other family was given anything in order to cope.
Tutto used his snout to page through the book quickly. “This is fascinating! Mayhap, hundreds of families lived here before you and your sisters. The durations of their stays were short. Look — this one is three weeks. And this one is two days.” He paused, looking at her thoughtfully. “If you’d had to give up sleep altogether, you probably also would have left after a few days. But your family has been here ten years. Because of the droomhunds.” Both Tutto and Mayhap angled to look at Seekatrix, who had been sitting beside Mayhap’s chair quietly. “No wonder,” he snorted, “those other families didn’t do much writing about the grass — or anything else.”
Mayhap had to tell Pavonine about this. She had to tell her about the Mysteriessa.
Winnow’s sickness was like a puzzle she couldn’t complete, but she felt sure that if she and Pavonine put their heads together, they could solve it.
“Can I show this book to Pavonine?” she asked Tutto.
The hippopotamus’s eyes brightened. “Certainly you can,” he said, “if you bring her here.”
“But — can’t I take —”
“This is a reference book, Mayhap,” said Tutto. “You are not permitted to remove it from the library. That’s why we have so many cozy chairs here.”
“Of course,” said Mayhap. She should have remembered that. “I’ll bring Pavonine here instead.”
But of course was right — of course she couldn’t do that.
They could not leave Winnow alone, and they could not risk triggering another one of her episodes by trying to move her.
“I’m afraid it’s coffee time,” said Tutto. He began to wheel away.
“Tutto,” said Mayhap. “Couldn’t you make an exception? Just for this one book?”
Tutto frowned. He opened his mouth as though he were about to acquiesce, then shook his head rapidly. “No, no,” he said as though scolding himself. “It won’t work.”
“What won’t work?” said Mayhap. “It’s your library. Surely you make the rules.”
Tutto shook his head emphatically again. “No, Mayhap. The library belongs to the house. And the house has rules. And the rules will be followed.”
Silence sat between them like a looming wall before Tutto spoke. “I’m going to get back to my coffee. I hope you don’t mind.”
Coffee. Mayhap really needed to get out of the library. “No, of course not, Tutto,” she said. “Goodbye. Thank you for your help.”
It was not easy stealing The Book of Records from the library.
Getting it out of the room was simple enough, especially since Tutto was standing over one of the reading desks with his eyes closed, lapping steaming coffee out of a porcelain cup. But as Mayhap walked toward the bedroom she shared with her sisters, the tome grew heavier and heavier in her arms.
When she eventually reached the landing at the top of the stairs, she was sweating and her arms were aching, and the book was so heavy that she had to push it along the floor while Seekatrix growled at it unhelpfully. After a while, she gave up and stood in the hallway and called Pavonine’s name. She couldn’t push the book any longer.
By the time Pavonine appeared, Peffiandra prancing beside her, Mayhap was splayed out on the carpet. Her legs felt about as sturdy as chocolate mousse.
“Did you find him?” asked Pavonine. She looked around for Evenflee. When she didn’t see him, she sighed with disappointment. Then she spotted the book. “What’s that?” She raised an eyebrow.
“I went to the library,” said Mayhap. “I need to show you something.” She sat up, wheezing.
Pavonine crossed her arms. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked. “Are you sick, too?” The fear in her eyes sparked like a faulty bulb.
“No, I’m fine. It’s just that the book kept getting heavier,” said Mayhap.
“Heavier?”
“Try to lift it,” said Mayhap. She motioned to The Book of Records.
Pavonine did. And couldn’t. “Mayhap, what is this?” she said.
“I went to the library to look up books about the grass. There weren’t any, but I did find a record of all the families who have lived at Straygarden Place.” Mayhap struggled to push the heavy thing toward Pavonine. “Look,” she said.