Sword and Pen (The Great Library #5)(114)

“Glain,” Khalila reproached her, but it was gentle.

Glain was the first to hug him. He was surprised by that; she hardly ever showed that side. It was a warrior’s embrace, all muscle, and a sharp clap on the back as punctuation. “Don’t follow him,” she whispered. “We still need you here with us.” She left just as quickly, head high. Off to rejoin her squad.

Dario came next, and he offered his hand. Jess ignored it and embraced him, too. “I’ll stop calling you Scrubber,” Dario said as he slapped his back. “Eventually. Maybe.”

“I’ll look forward to that. Your Royalness.”

After Dario, Khalila. Her hug took his breath away, and he felt something crack inside, just a little. “I’m proud of you,” he said. “And a little afraid of you, too. I heard they’ve confirmed you. Youngest Archivist in history, so they say.”

She gave him another kiss on the cheek. “And you have to listen to me when I tell you that you’ll be all right,” she said. “We’re all going to make sure you are.”

Then it was Thomas, and a very careful embrace from arms the size of healthy young trees. “Khalila told you about the press? The new publishing operation? We’re going to replicate the Great Archives! People will be able to own books, Jess.”

“Yes, I heard,” Jess said. “I’ll join you when I’m able.”

“Your office is already being built. I’ve made you Chief Printer.”

“Do I get paid?”

“We’ll discuss it. But it comes with all the books you can read.”

“Then I’m in,” Jess said, and smiled. “See you tomorrow.”

When Thomas was gone, it was just Wolfe and Santi. Wolfe said, “Are you in fact all right? Be honest. You’ve seen me at my lowest. Don’t be afraid to admit it if you need our help.”

“I know, and I promise, I would. But I’m . . . better,” Jess said. “More than I expected. This is . . .” He took in a careful breath and glanced down at Brendan. “An ending. I don’t know who I am without my brother, but I suppose now I have to learn. He’d demand that.”

“Well,” Santi said, “let me be the first to tell you that I’ve released you from contract to the High Garda. You get full salary for the rest of your life, by the way. Orders of the Archivist.” He embraced Jess. “You’re not just Wolfe’s son, you know. I love you, too.”

“I know that, sir. Thank you.”

Perhaps it was worth surviving, after all.

Anit was waiting in the hall when he left; the High Garda stationed there were eyeing her with real mistrust, and her own guards gave it back in full. His gaze caught on the tall form of Katja, who nodded back. “Condolences,” Anit said. “I hear you’re a great hero now.”

“I’m not,” he said. “But thanks.”

“So heroic you won’t be in the family anymore, perhaps?”

“Oh, I’ll always be a cousin,” he said, and cast a smile at Katja, who raised a lofty eyebrow. “Just not one who runs books. I’ll be printing them instead.”

“So I heard,” she agreed. “Come on, my brother. Let’s have coffee. I understand the day is beautiful, the sun is shining—”

“And you have an interesting proposal for me?”

“Of course. I’m thinking of opening a bookshop. The first of its kind in Alexandria. And I’d like you to be my partner.”

“Fifty-fifty?”

“Seventy-thirty.”

“We’ll discuss it.”

He opened his Codex, signed the release form, and let his brother go at last.





EPILOGUE





“Thank you for letting me be here,” Wolfe said, and his father nodded. “I haven’t been in the Iron Tower of my own accord for . . . quite a while.”

“Ever, I think is the word you’re searching for,” Eskander said. “But you’re always welcome.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t left. You’re not required to stay, you know.”

“Funny thing. I’ve spent so many years behind these walls that I can’t imagine living somewhere else. But I think the new Obscurists will find it easier to come and go.”

Wolfe stood awkwardly in the open lobby. The Iron Tower stretched out above him, quiet for now. High Garda still manned posts at the front entrance, and the burn marks still on the floor indicated why. Alexandria wasn’t quite what it was. Not yet. And maybe it never would be again.

Nic thought that would be a very good thing, a sign of progress after centuries of stagnation. Wolfe reserved his judgment.

He felt he needed to say something more to his father, but he wasn’t quite sure what. Finally, he just blurted out his real question. “Where is Morgan?”

“Her body is in the Necropolis, as you were told,” Eskander said. “With all the proper rites and funerals.”

“I know that, but—” Wolfe struggled with the words. “I can still feel her presence. I needed to ask why.”

“Does Niccolo know you’re here?”

“No, I—I didn’t know what to tell him.” He swallowed. “Am I going mad?”