Paper and Fire (The Great Library #2)(66)
“Something about the old gods having deep roots in Rome?”
She moved next to Jess and tapped a spot on the drawing. It was a carefully inked diagram of the Forum, and each of the buildings and statues within the precincts. “Here,” she said, and pointed. “Below Jupiter’s throne—”
“These are ancient tunnels,” Santi said, and looked up. “How did you find this?”
Khalila nodded at Dario with a little smile. He raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t,” he said. “It wasn’t me. It was Scholar Prakesh; she left the information for me before she was killed. Both the records and the tunnels are ancient and very obscure, dating from early Roman religious practices. Unused for a thousand years, at least, but one thing about the Romans—”
“They built things to last,” Santi finished. “You know how to access them?”
“I found references. I think I could figure it out.” Dario grinned humorlessly at Jess. “Or our resident criminal could. The tunnels are a warren below, but from all the best information I could find, they connect to a sewer that is just below the prison. Not a working sewer, mind you—I’m not that dedicated. Its position in the Forum gives us a chance to melt into a crowd.”
This was, Jess thought, a fair and interesting idea, but he put little faith in millennia-old records without a firsthand scouting expedition. That might be difficult, since anyone tinkering with an ancient statue of a god in the middle of the Forum might be noticed.
They wouldn’t notice at night, he thought. And not if I’m wearing a High Garda uniform. If I’m seen, I could just say that I noticed suspicious activity and went to check it.
“The prison itself has human guards, and three automata on patrol within,” Santi said. “Sphinxes and a Spartan. I’m not worried about the Garda. The automata . . .”
The automata were another matter altogether, and they all knew it. Glain had seen the ones surrounding Jess on the steps. They were already alert to him, ready to pounce in an instant. One wrong move and they would all be dead.
“We won’t solve that tonight. We’ve already been out too long,” Santi said. “Go back before someone discovers you’re missing. Especially you two.” He nodded at Dario and Khalila.
Dario laughed. “They won’t worry. I made sure they knew I wanted to show Scholar Seif the beauties of Rome in the moonlight.”
“Dario,” Khalila said, “tells everyone he’s trying to seduce me. It does make a very good cover story.”
“Not that it’s working,” he said gloomily. “The best I’ve managed is a kiss. Not even a long one.”
“It was long enough.”
“For what?”
“For me to tell if you knew what you were doing.”
“You see how she treats me?” Dario said to Jess. “I don’t know why I bother.”
“Then you’re even more of an idiot than I imagined,” Jess said. “Be careful. Both of you. This isn’t a game.”
“Spoken like someone who always loses when it is,” Dario said. “Cheer up, English. We’re survivors.”
Jess wished he hadn’t said it. It sounded like a bad omen.
Going back to bed was impossible now. He told Glain what he planned to do—she argued, of course—and exited silently down the hall and through a secured door that led out into the public space of the Basilica Julia: the daughter library, the Serapeum.
Like all similar institutions, it never closed, but just now it was utterly empty of visitors. It was flanked on all sides by steady rows of tall white columns and shelves upon shelves of Blanks. At regular intervals around the floor stood marble podiums, upon which large volumes of the Codex waited.
Nothing in the Codex will help me with automata, Jess thought. There might be other books, restricted from public view that would hold hints and pieces of a key. He’d need a Scholar like Khalila to gain access. Being just a copper-banded High Garda had its disadvantages.
He ran his fingers over the smooth leather spine of a book. It was more of a talisman than a comfort; he just needed to remind himself of why the Library was so important. Books had become a symbol of trust and libraries places of peace and stability. In all the chaos of the world that counted people as different levels of worthy, the Library served all equally. All genders, races, levels of ability. It was the one place they could all be safe.
It was a fragile idea, and the safety was a fiction; the existence of the Burners proved that. Armies didn’t always obey the accords. Kingdoms fell. But the ideal was worth preserving.
I don’t want to bring an end to this, Jess thought, and was suddenly afraid that was exactly what he’d be doing if they succeeded.
But there wasn’t much choice. Not if Thomas was to be free.
Jess moved out through the outer Serapeum doors to the moonlight-washed steps.
Dario was right: Rome was magical at night. The marble glittered soft as snow, and the stars above were hard and bright, set in a deeply black sky. A breeze moved down from the hills and brought with it the smell of dusty olive trees and sun-warmed stones. He descended quickly. The lions were clustered together near the other end of the building, the end where the Artifex would be sleeping in peace, no doubt. If the old man thought about Thomas at all, it was probably only with satisfaction that he’d stopped what he saw as the downfall of the Library.