Smoke and Iron (The Great Library #4)(84)

Jess shook his head. “If I’d tried, I’d have led the Elites right to his door. I let my father do any communicating, but since it’s my da, I don’t know what he’s been saying, either. He tried to change the deal two or three times already. I’d not put it past him now to tell Red Ibrahim to sell us out. He likely considers both his sons lost.”

“Just like that?” It was Glain who said it, and unusually for her, it sounded quiet and almost compassionate. “Not much of a family you have, Jess.”

“No,” he said. “Not much. I’d have thought you’d figured that out by now.”

He hadn’t meant for Brendan to hear it, but when he looked up he saw that his twin was standing like a shadow in the doorway. “I didn’t mean you,” he said. It sounded false and awkward, and his brother said nothing. He poured water, gulped it, and poured again.

“So how do we kill him?” Brendan asked.

Silence for a moment, before Glain said, “You mean the Archivist.”

“I didn’t mean the man who runs the falafel concession. How do we kill him?”

They all looked at one another. Of course it would have come to this question eventually, but Brendan had gone right to the core of it. We’re assassinating the most important man in the world, Jess thought. What other choice do we have, if we want to save anything now? Anyone?

“The Feast of Greater Burning is our chance,” Dario said. “The Archivist will be there—”

“And very well protected,” Glain muttered.

“—and so will his Curia. He’s demanded for Scholars and librarians all over the city to attend. For all we know, he’s summoned Scholars from all over the world. He intends this to be a brutal display of his power.”

“Which is exactly why it’s the wrong place to try to kill him,” Glain argued. “He’ll expect it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Brendan said. “Anyone can be killed. You just have to stop caring about surviving it.”

Khalila looked at him, then at Jess, worry clear on her face. Jess just shook his head. “We want him to step down,” she said at last. “If we can make it impossible for him to continue . . .”

“Dying makes it impossible for him to continue.”

“Scraps—,” Jess said.

“He has to be killed,” Brendan said, as calmly as if Jess hadn’t spoken at all. “He’ll never give up power on his own. And, besides, all the harm he’s done, the death he’s ordered here and everywhere . . . he doesn’t deserve the breaths he’s drawing right now.” He turned and met Jess’s eyes. “Am I wrong?”

“You’re angry,” Jess said. “You feel guilty. But, no. You’re not wrong. I’m sorry, Khalila, but he isn’t. I’ve been here. You haven’t. I’ve seen—seen the lengths he’s willing to go to keep his power, and the Library’s. Maybe my brother’s right.”

“Then it can be done,” Glain said. “I’m a good shot. Santi’s even better. If we plan this properly—”

“Always plans with you,” Brendan said. “Never action.”

He put his cup down and walked toward the door. Jess got up and followed, and stopped him just before he made it out. “What are you going to do?” he asked.

“I’m not staying here,” Brendan said. “And I’m not relying on your too-noble friends, either. Let me go, Jess.”

“No chance,” Jess said, and he meant it. “You go, I go. Together.”

“You can’t go,” Khalila said. She’d gotten up, and though she hadn’t approached, it was clear she wanted to. “Jess! You’re safe here. At least rest for the night! Tomorrow—”

Jess was listening, but he was looking into Brendan’s eyes, and he knew what he was seeing there. He slowly shook his head. “What are you thinking, Brother?” he asked.

“I’m thinking that all the honorable intentions in the world won’t make the Archivist listen to a word your friends have to say,” Brendan said. “You and I, we know people who aren’t so honorable.”

That was all true. And Jess knew that whatever Ambassador Santiago might personally wish, he was a politician . . . and politicians couldn’t be relied on for long, because their will was not their own. Criminals, on the other hand, tended to be more straightforward. “If you’re talking about our most prominent cousin, he might not be so well disposed toward us right now.”

Brendan shrugged. He clearly didn’t care about such details. And Jess recognized the smile that smoothed across his lips. It was deeply dangerous. “Then we’ll be charming,” he said. “Come on, Brother. Just this once. Let’s uphold our family honor and do the wrong thing.”

“Jess!” Khalila’s voice was pleading.

“She’s right, my friend,” Thomas said. “You should stay here.”

“No. We need a backup in case Spain fails us,” Jess said, and let a grin that matched his brother’s slide into place. “Brendan’s right. It’s time to do the wrong thing.”

“We’ll be back,” Brendan said. “And if not, don’t look. You won’t find us.”