The panicking people threw themselves against the sides of the hall, clearing a path for Lenora. She strode down the hall beside Bendigeidfran, hoping desperately that the robot’s trust in her was not misplaced. After all, it was only her first day on the job.

“Save us, librarian!” a pale-faced man whimpered.

Lenora tried to think of what Malachi might say. Malachi, she decided, would surely appear to be in control of the situation. “Do not fear. All will be well,” Lenora said to the man, both to comfort him and also herself. He smiled at her in relief.

Now she could see some of the details of the hall. The main one was the statue. It was really a set of statues, all copies of the same sculpture, and there were hundreds of them lining the hall. The statues were all of a small boy, a few years younger than Lenora, with a rather large head and a pair of owlish glasses. He looked solemn and confident.

Soon Lenora and Bendigeidfran were approaching another set of huge marble doors. These doors were attended by a bunch of men in fancy, frilly coats who began blowing trumpets as the pair neared. When they paused at the doors, the trumpeting ceased and the men bowed to Lenora. Behind her, the crowd in the hall applauded wildly. Lenora didn’t find any of this to be necessary at all, and she wondered if the Kingdom of Starpoint Seventeen wasn’t overdoing things just a bit.

“Before we go in,” Bendigeidfran whispered, “I should warn you. Not everyone is happy you are here. The Court Historian and Court Mathematician believe they have all the answers, and they told the king there was no need for a librarian at all. Be wary of both of them.”

Lenora gulped, then reminded herself that she had promised to think on her feet and improvise and rely on her wits and valor. She just wished the moment for that hadn’t come quite so quickly.

The men in frilly coats pushed open the doors, and together she and the robot entered the throne room. Lenora knew it was the throne room because there was a throne in it. On it sat, unsurprisingly, a small boy with a large head and a pair of owlish glasses. He looked solemn and confident. Lenora wondered if he was actually panicking inside. On one side of him stood a man who looked very much like a court historian and, on the other, a woman who looked exactly like a court mathematician. The mass of people from the hall flowed into the throne room and stood all around, murmuring.

All eyes were on Lenora.

The throne room was open to the sky. ERROR, blinked the letters there.

“Hello, Your Majesty,” said Lenora. “How may I help you?”

“You mayn’t!” snarled the Court Historian at the same time the Court Mathematician barked, “No need!”