Paper and Fire (The Great Library #2)(24)
“I wanted to see you,” he said. It was true and it was untrue at the same time. Khalila was a friend. A brilliant mind. A rising star of the Library. When they’d all been together in Wolfe’s class, she’d been as much a part of the team as any of them, and more than some, but now . . . now she was fast-tracked to the highest levels of scholarship. One day, she’d rise to greatness. Power. Maybe even fill the chair of the Archivist.
If he didn’t get her killed. I shouldn’t do this, he thought. I’ll ruin everything for her. Everything.
But he knew Khalila well enough to know that she’d find out, and when she did, she wouldn’t thank him for that protection.
Jess slowly reached over and took one of her hands in his, and said, in a very low voice, “Is it safe to talk here?”
“Yes,” she said at the same quiet level. “They don’t monitor my conversations. Still, we should be careful. And fond of you as I am, you should not stay here long.”
“I know,” Jess said. “I’ll be brief.” There was, he realized, no easy way to tell her; the shock wouldn’t be kind. Better to do it in one go. “I have proof that Thomas wasn’t executed, as the Archivist told us he was. There’s every reason to believe Thomas is still alive, in prison.”
Khalila’s smile faltered, then died, and her dark eyes fixed on his for so long and so silently that he wondered if she’d really heard him. Then she stood up; walked to the door with brisk, firm steps; and turned the lock. “That will put on a privacy signal. My assistant could arrive at any moment,” she told him. “I shouldn’t wish for her to hear this.” Her voice sounded completely normal, as if he’d told her that there might be rain in the afternoon, or that the price of saffron could go up in the markets. “I would ask how you are taking this, but I think I can guess.”
“You seem very calm,” Jess said.
Khalila turned to face him. Tears glittered in her eyes, on the verge of falling. “Do I? Who told you he might be alive?”
“No one,” Jess said, and told her a shortened story about the illegal book and his confession to Wolfe, Santi, and Glain. “Santi’s worried we’ll all do something stupid now. To be fair, he’s probably right about that.”
She crossed back to her chair and sat, then absently dabbed at the corners of her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. A few blinks, and the tears vanished, leaving a hard, luminous shine. “And you believe this? You’re sure?”
She was asking him to be logical, not emotional. Jess took a moment to order his thoughts. “Devil’s advocate? It’s exactly the kind of ruse the Archivist would love to try,” he admitted. “And maybe he’d be careful enough to make me work for months to lay hands on this information. So I’m not completely sure, not yet. We might never be completely sure. Maybe we’ll have to take a chance.”
“You must be sure,” she told him. “If it’s a trap . . .”
She wasn’t saying how much she’d lose for it, but he was acutely aware. “We need to find records of where the Library likes to keep its most dangerous prisoners,” he said. “I’m just not sure how to get to them—and that’s where you come in, I think. You’re the best researcher I know, Khalila.”
“Without a doubt.” She had the sweetest smile, one that dimpled just at the corner to let him know she was silently mocking him. “And you want me to proceed?”
“Carefully. Khalila, I mean it: carefully.”
“Of course. I understand the risks.” She paused for a moment, then came to sit next to him again, hands folded in her lap. “Jess—having been here in the Lighthouse for the past few months, I have heard . . . disturbing things about Scholar Wolfe. That he may not be himself, or—”
“A few books short of a full library?” Jess finished, and was rewarded with a nod. “It’s true: he went through terrible things before we met him, and they left scars. But I don’t think he’s broken beyond repair, and I think we can count on him. All this makes sense. Thomas had—has—too good a mind for the Library to just discard. They’ll want to use him. Isn’t that logical?”
“Perhaps,” she said. “Or it’s just difficult for us to believe the arrogance that would destroy such a beautiful mind. Such a . . . such a beautiful person as Thomas.” That thought killed another of her lovely smiles, and Jess hurt to see it.
“We have two choices,” he said. “We can choose to believe he’s dead or choose to believe he’s alive. Believing he’s dead is safer, but—”
“But so cruel,” she whispered. “What if he’s alive? Suffering? Thinking we will come for him, and we never do?”
Jess nodded. It never left his mind for long, the idea that somewhere, Thomas Schreiber was counting on him for rescue. “That’s why I can’t let this go, Khalila, trap or no trap. I just can’t. I won’t ask you to do anything more than a little research—”
“Don’t be stupid,” she interrupted, and that smile returned, more certain—and more devilish—than before. “Of course I will do everything I can; it’s the only honorable thing to do. It might take time. I say that not because I am afraid to jeopardize myself, but because wrong moves will only get me locked away from key information. It will have to be done slowly, for all our sakes. But when it’s time to get him out, Jess, I will go with you, of course. You don’t even have to ask.”