Paper and Fire (The Great Library #2)(96)

That was nearly as perfect an answer to his problems as Jess could imagine.





EPHEMERA



From the personal journal of Morgan Hault I’ve done everything wrong. Everything. It’s all coming apart. It’s all my fault. I thought I could make everyone safe, and I thought that Jess . . . that we could patch our differences and find each other again. Even if most of that separation was from me, because I was afraid to be hurt again.

But he doesn’t understand me at all. And I hurt Sybilla. I left her behind when I’d promised to help her, too. I ran without even thinking about what that would mean for her. I ran to Jess, and then I didn’t dare get close to him, and now . . . now everything is in ruins.

I’ll be trapped here. Maybe I should accept what fate writes down for me. Maybe Dominic will be a kind partner to me. Maybe one day I’ll be as contented and bland as Rosa, and believe every lie shoveled into my face.

I hope they kill me before I become just another broodmare for the Library’s futile attempt to cling to its past.

Damn you, Jess, for making me hope it could be any different.

And thank you, too.

I still love you. As unwise as that is.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN





“Mate,” Thomas said, and moved his knight into position. Jess groaned and tipped his king. It was his third straight game lost, but he at least felt somewhat steadier and a good deal more levelheaded.

“Let’s not use that term anymore,” Jess said. “Just say, I win.”

Thomas raised his eyebrows and smiled a little—the best that Jess had seen from his friend since finding him in that cell. “All right. You know, as much as I enjoy this strange new feeling of winning against you, you should go back and talk to Morgan.”

“Not yet,” Jess said. “She’d only throw another pillow at me. Or something more damaging.”

“I understand why she’s angry. What are you angry about?”

What was it, exactly? He didn’t know, except that he was angry at everything suddenly. Angry for Morgan, but angry at her, too. Stupidly. It didn’t even make sense. “She thinks I’m taking advantage.”

Thomas’s eyebrows rose to a ridiculous level, wrinkling his forehead like an old man’s. “Are you, Jess?”

“How can you even ask me?”

“Your motives are completely pure, then?”

Jess glared at him. “Set the board, Thomas.”

“You sound like Dario just now, you know.”

“Are you trying to insult me?”

“Only a little.” He outright grinned this time, and Jess smiled back. With months of grime washed down the drain and his hair drying to puffball brightness, Thomas looked almost like his old self. He had some spark back in his eyes. But the grin faded too quickly. “She’s trapped here. I know how that feels. Now you begin to see it, too, how being helpless twists us around.”

“It didn’t twist you,” Jess said. “You’ve done very well.”

Thomas’s expression didn’t alter. “It seems so, maybe. But I’m not the same. She’s not. Her confinement isn’t like mine, but don’t let the soft bars fool you. Taking someone’s will, someone’s freedom . . . it kills the heart and then the soul.”

“It didn’t kill yours.”

Thomas said nothing this time. He set up the board, white and black, and waited for Jess to make a move.

Jess didn’t have a chance, because a knock came at the door. He was hoping for Morgan, but when Thomas swung it open, Khalila stood on the other side. She glanced quickly at them both and said, “We have to attend dinner now. I don’t think they gave us a choice.”

“See?” Thomas said to Jess. “So it begins. The little deaths of freedom.”

They stepped out into the hall. Khalila stood quite alone, and Jess wasn’t sure if her arms were simply crossed or if she was hugging herself for comfort. He knew what she was thinking and feeling, because he’d felt it himself when Morgan had been taken away. At least he’d known where she was and who’d taken her.

Dario was just . . . gone. Vanished. And there was no way to know if he was alive, free, imprisoned, dead. All Khalila could do was hope . . . and hope was difficult, knowing what they all knew about the Library now. He’s a smart one, Jess told himself again. Connections, money, friends . . . he’ll be all right. He wanted to say that to Khalila but knew how useless it would sound.

When she looked up and saw him, she forced a smile and said, “I was just thinking about my family.”

That stopped him. Why had he just assumed she’d be pining uselessly after Dario? Was it because he was so caught up in his own thoughts of Morgan? “Your family?” He knew he sounded surprised. “Why? Are they all right?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve betrayed everything they believe in. Worse than that, I’ve so many Scholars in the family. Will they be all right, Jess? Do you think the Library will punish them for what I’ve done?”

“No,” he said. “Of course not.”

“I hope not.” The desolation in her voice hurt. He remembered her proud uncle, escorting her on the train to Alexandria, and the constant messages she’d received from her father and mother and siblings and cousins. Khalila’s life was full of love, and the decisions she’d made may have cut her off from that love. Would she have done that if he hadn’t come to her with his mad speculations and schemes?