Sword and Pen (The Great Library #5)(47)

Today, touching the Imperishable is impossible without losing one’s life in the process. But one day, a person will exist upon this earth who can manipulate the Imperishable, the apeiron, and will redefine the rules by which our very existence continues. On that day, that person may no longer be a person at all, though we may continue to regard them as such. And that is a troubling and difficult thing, that any should be so close to godhood, and yet possess all the ignorance and base impulses of our flesh.

I wonder if even the Imperishable could end.





CHAPTER EIGHT





JESS

Jess needed to sleep, but he lay awake, thinking about leaving Morgan behind him, thinking about the soft intake of breath she’d made. He’d almost turned around. Almost. But he knew there was no going back to where they’d once been.

She’s better off without me.

One more lifeline, cut.

You’re being morbid again, Brendan whispered to him. I’m dead. You’re only dying. Try to have a little fun.

Shut up, Scraps, he thought, but his heart wasn’t in it. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe, but his lungs felt stuffed with feathers again, and trying made him cough. He sat up and used the mask again; the Medica was right: the more he used it, the less effect it had.

But he couldn’t rest.

He got up, showered, dressed, paced. Played dice with some of Anit’s men and lost consistently; he suspected they’d broken out the loaded set to clean him out of his pocket money, but he didn’t really care. It was something to do.

At sunrise, he checked on Scholar Wolfe, who—predictably enough—was arguing.

With Glain.

“No,” he was saying when Jess walked in. “You are not going with us. You are staying here to recover, and that, soldier, is an order. If you want me to message Santi and waste his valuable time in confirming that—”

“Don’t bother the Lord Commander,” Glain said. “But I refuse to just lie about like some broken toy. I’m fine!”

She was, in fact, standing. And dressed in her uniform. She—or Anit’s people—had washed the blood from it, and the bullet holes in it were almost unnoticeable. Almost. “You were inches from death yesterday,” Jess said. “Just this once, why don’t you admit it?”

“Why don’t you?” She glared at him. “You’ve looked like something grave robbers dug up since you breathed in that gas. Why don’t you rest?”

“I’m better today,” he lied. “And the Medica cleared me.” Only barely true. He hoped Wolfe hadn’t checked. But Wolfe said nothing. He was studying Glain with those bitter dark eyes, looking for weakness. And even Jess had to admit that he didn’t see much in her. Not yet.

“You can’t leave me here in a nest of thieves!” she said. “No offense meant. Some of my best friends are thieves now.”

He gave her a sharp-edged grin. “Too little, too late,” he said. And realized that he was still taking on the mannerisms of his brother. He’d been doing it for survival here in Alexandria for long enough that it had become second nature. And, in truth, it felt . . . right. Maybe being a little bit Brendan would balance the darker shadows in his soul. “We should have gone last night, Scholar.”

“No one was in shape to do that,” Wolfe said. “And Anit needed time to gather her people. Today will do.”

“We’re targets, traveling in a group.”

“We won’t be seen.”

Some Obscurists, Jess knew, could hide themselves from notice. It wasn’t quite invisibility; it was misdirection. Morgan could. But hiding even one other person was a strain. Hiding groups? Even if Anit had the rare treasure of a rogue Obscurist, or an undiscovered one, he doubted Wolfe’s assurance.

And then he didn’t. “She’s got tunnels,” he said. “Yes, of course she does. I should have realized.”

“They’re extensive,” Wolfe said. “I’ve gone over the maps. They’ll take us all the way to the entrance to the Necropolis. They’re normally guarded by sphinxes where they come out. I’ve put in a request for them to be coded to ignore us, but the Obscurists are obviously busy. Pity Morgan had to leave so soon.”

“She was needed,” Jess said. “Harbor defenses.”

“Ah. Of course. I hope . . .” Wolfe stopped talking, which was unusual enough to make both Jess and Glain turn to look at him.

“Hope what?” Jess asked.

“Hope it goes well,” Wolfe finished. And Jess knew that wasn’t what he’d originally intended to say at all. “Glain. I’m not arguing with you. If you want to come, fine. But if you fall behind, we leave you.” He turned a glare on Jess. “Same for you.”

“Understood, sir,” Jess and Glain said in crisp unison. Unintentionally.

“Get your kit together,” Wolfe said. “Five minutes. Meet me in the atrium.”

He left without waiting for a reply. The two of them looked at each other. Glain sat down on her bed. “You should move,” she told him. “When he says five minutes, he means two.”

“I know. I have everything,” he said. He hesitated over what to say, and finally decided.

“I thought we’d lost you, Glain. I can’t afford that. So if you’re not up to this, don’t risk it. All right?”