The Library of Profanity and the Palace of Shadows

“...To have acquired this place you must be both cunning and rich. A rare combination, though not an impossible one.”

“I appreciate the flattery. What is your name, sir?”

“Mortimer, my lord.”

“I see that this place is windowless. You have been here for... how many decades?”

“Four I believe, my lord: ever since I was a teenager. And are you here alone?”

“My sister and my wife live with me in the floor above. I appreciate that you did not ask my name. Your last name must be ‘Discretion.’”

“I generally do not ask the name of the persons who step out of that elevator. You, in particular, radiate mischief. You’re either very clever or very reckless. Perhaps both.”

“You are perceptive, raccoon. I like you already.”

“I have been here in this windowless universe since I was a teenager. Studying. Learning. Cataloging. I am afraid I can’t tell you much about my previous ‘masters,’ but suffice it to say, this floor has always been a repository of secrets. Some harmless, others... less so.”

“And now it is ours: A library of profane works. Beige and Byzantine.”

“Indeed. Use it wisely—or don’t. Either way, I will be here. Is ‘Lord’ enough for me to identify you with, my lord?”

“‘Corkscrew’ would boost my ego more efficiently, Mortimer... if you would be so kind.”

“Of course, Master Corkscrew. Would you like a tour?”

“Yes, please. What is this section here?”

“Ancient Tyrian philosophers. The God of Justice’s believers torn apart by... their personal habits.”

“Ha ha ha! I adore it! I love that aspect of Tyrianism! I shall call this section, ‘Tyr’s Apostasy!’ Hahahaha!”

“Would sir like to see the Reynardian philosophers who were secretly Tyrian?”

“...Mortimer, as for those volumes, please set them aside: I would prefer to see more of the private journals of the Tyrians. Any that would tickle my fancy?”

“This one, Master Corkscrew - if you would direct your attention - would probably be of great interest: Stolen from the Tyrian Vatican Library in Rome.”

“Delightful! ...Ah, yes, the ding of the elevator. My sister will be joining us.”

“Excellent, Master Corkscrew. ...Delighted to meet you, miss.”

“Certainly, sir raccoon. Szal, is this the creature you mentioned?”

“Ahem, sister could you refer to me as ‘Corkscrew’ for the time being?”

“Reverting to your old nom de guerre from Wildwood High School, dear brother?”

“In place of sighing heavily, allow me to introduce Mortimer. He comes with this floor: the curator of this place of secrets.”

“Pleased to meet you, sir.”

“And you as well, madam.”

“So here we are, ‘Corkscrew’: another addition to our world. And what, exactly, is this ‘empire’ of yours now? A hidden fortress in the sky? A museum of stolen treasures? Or is it simply a lair for your endless games?”

“...Yes.”

“You’re lucky that you’re charming.”

“Mortimer, would you join my sister and I for a meal? Our servant Bernard is an excellent cook and my family’s wine is the finest in the world.”

“Dinner?”

“Yes, Mortimer - the meal after lunch: I assure you it will be exquisite.”

“Of course, Master Corkscrew but... all my other masters have never invited me to the higher floors of this building.”

“Truly?”

“Yes, sir. I’ve been relegated to this reliquary my entire adult life.”

“...Well then, it seems it is time for you to live. Follow my sister and I to the elevator, if you would.”

“I have only seen these doors open seven times in my life... and here I am stepping into them. Master Corkscrew, you say you live above this floor?”

“Yes, with my sister - as you can see - and my wife. ...Ah, here we are.”

“Goodness, it’s dark...”

“Welcome to the Palace of Shadows, Mortimer. Come, sit. Tonight, you dine as one of us. Your eyes will adjust in time.”

“Everyone who knows my brother has had to adjust their eyes.”

“—Says the genius inventor with two cybernetic eyes, herself.”

“...Master, this is... quite unlike anything I expected.”

“Yes - we have bought the top three floors of this... building... and reshaped them. My dearest detective, are you here?”

“I am here, my cunning pirate fox!”

“None of my former masters would have extended the courtesy of dinner.”

“I pride myself on my equanimity.”

“You pride yourself on a lot of things, brother. Over here is the origin of that ‘cunning pirate fox’ comment... as though my brother needs any more encouragement.”

“Pleased to meet you, madam.”

“Likewise, I’m... sure... My fox, is this who you spoke of before? The creature who ‘comes with our new floor’?”

“Evelyn, this is Mortimer - he is part of the scenery from our new library, yes: Curator of an archive of secrets that we have just acquired. We pried him from his chair and asked him to join us. Mortimer, would you care for some aperitifs?”

“Certainly... Smooth and rich. I recall having a beer with my father when I was young. Your hospitality is... remarkable... though I suspect it serves a dual purpose. You wish to learn what I know.”

“Mortimer, you wound me! Must everything that I do have an ulterior motive?”

“I believe it must, Master Corkscrew, but I and my knowledge are at your service in any case. I must say... your little family is... unique. You, Lord Corkscrew, are a master of theatrics, yes, but your charm is genuine. A rare combination.”

“I’m blushing, Mortimer. Please, continue.”

“And you, young lady—you’ve the sharpest mind in this room, though you prefer to hide it behind a veil of sardonic wit.”

“Accurate.”

“And you... a squirrel among foxes and yet you melt into this place like you were born here. I sense that you have taken a very circuitous route to end up in this place, draped in an opulent fox-themed silk kimono.”

“Very, very circuitous, Mortimer, yes.”

“Go on, Mortimer. What else does your scalpel-sharp insight reveal? Be careful, though—this family has secrets we prefer to keep buried.”

“I am drawn to this statue here, near the vast fireplace. Amaranta of the Spring Harvest, I believe? I have been out of touch with the modern world, but I believe that statue should be in front of a Tyrian monastery in Northern Italy... but here it is, buried in darkness. I don’t suppose that this is a Tyrian monastery?”

“Ha, certainly not dear Mortimer.”

“And I presume you did not... purchase that item?”

“Please Mortimer - my husband’s ego is already big enough.”

“Look at him, Evelyn - about to float away on praise... and Mortimer merely asked a question. But now, Mortimer, tell us: what have the books in your library been used for?”

“Various things, Lady Orphea. Blackmail, mostly.”

“I’m sure we can find more creative uses for the Library of Profanity than that. I saw several tomes that would drive those monks of St. Amaranta mad from just the titles alone! And the authors themselves - just the fact that they were real and not fiction could rewrite history books.”

“Indeed, Lord Corkscrew. And all of them are actively being searched for - some for centuries.”

“Oh, wonderful - just what we need: more lost artifacts to fill our shadowy catacomb and more creatures looking for us.”

“And, if I may, Lady Orphea, what a testament to your brother’s cleverness it is... And, if I may ask, are you all... trapped here?”

“‘Trapped’ is not how I would characterize it, Mortimer.”

“My apologies for my boldness Lord Corkscrew - it is a wonderful ‘palace of shadows,’ as you called it. What I meant to ask was, do you all stay here of your own free will?”

“That’s about right. My brother, Mortimer has probably had other masters who were just as much a part of this building as he is: Their crimes forcing them into... whatever this place is.”

“That sums up my previous interactions with other masters, Lady Orphea.”

“Personally, I’ve grown to love it. And I’ve stayed to keep ‘Lord Corkscrew’ grounded in this shadow palace in the sky.”

“And we’re grateful for that, Evelyn. I am having fun as well, Mortimer - although sometimes I worry about that elevator opening one day and seeing a certain one-eyed tiger with a fang-filled grin stepping out.”

“No more talk of that, no more talk of that: You are boring our guest, Orphea! For shame!”

“...Honestly, lady Orphea, I find your statement very intriguing.”

“You mean ‘tedious,’ do you not, Mortimer?”

“Yes, my lord. ...Very hum-drum and tedious indeed.”

“And now, I declare it time for games! And this time, I have a riddle that even my dear sister will not be able to unravel!”

“Try me, ‘Lord Corkscrew’ - you loon.”

“Delightful loon?”

“Don’t push your luck.”