“Sign here, please.”
“Any special instructions?” Mary Gilbert asked as she signed. Years working in the Library’s Restricted Collection prompted a certain caution, if one wished to continue working.
“Don’t open the box,” the runner said, consulting a list. “It ‘dampens the effect’. And handle it as little as possible. Uh, and Class Seven containment, whatever that means.”
Mary nodded, “Thanks.”
Class Seven was their second highest level of containment and protection. So, whatever text was in the iron infused chalcedony box was not one of the nastiest items in their charge, but it was close.
She took a few notes as the runner left and handed the sheet off to a page.
“Catalogers. Description, title, and location. Don’t say the title on this one, Class Seven.”
Sometimes with the big ones even naming them could cause a reaction. And many got grumpy, though there were some positive ones that were still dangerous.
Mary pulled on a special pair of gloves that would not react with any protections already on the box. So far as she knew, they were unique to the Restricted Collection, and their creation one of the collection’s closely guarded secrets.
Holding the box comfortably, she took it to a small desk in the corner of the room.
“Do we know where Room 17 is now?”
The scryer held up a finger as his eyes unfocused.
“Second floor, third row, position two. You probably have . . . twenty minutes before it shifts.”