Sword and Pen (The Great Library #5)(51)

Because it can see in the dark, he thought. Of course it could. That made it extra-terrifying.

But if it could see in the dark, that might mean it wouldn’t be well-adapted to the light. Not concentrated light.

Jess raced for the mirror. He reached it with the Minotaur pounding in pursuit just a dozen feet behind. He flipped the mirror to catch the sun and quickly angled it to shine directly into the thing’s eyes.

It stumbled and veered away.

The mirror was on a rotating stand, he realized; he followed the Minotaur, drove it into a corner between two of the tombs, where it found itself trapped, unable to escape through the narrow opening between them. He kept the light pouring onto it, pinning it in place, and stepped back while he heaved in painful breaths and analyzed the thing. Very few vulnerabilities in it. But the eyes . . . the eyes might be the key.

He raised his rifle and aimed carefully, sent up a prayer to whoever was listening that the crafters who’d created this awful thing hadn’t armored the inside of its eyes, and fired.

He missed. The bullet hit a protruding brow ridge and ricocheted, digging a deep gouge in the marble of one of the tombs. His heart was pounding, and his lungs throbbing in time.

Slow down, he told himself. Relax. Focus.

He fired again. One of the glaring red eyes went out, and the Minotaur gave a horrifying roar. It staggered forward. It lifted its axe.

Jess switched his aim to its other eye as it charged for the mirror. No time to be careful. He had to be correct.

The shot hit the right eye, and the Minotaur kept coming, flailing, wild, blind. Jess turned the mirror on its base to protect it, and the swing of the axe missed and sank the blade deep into the stone beneath. Jess kicked and landed his foot squarely in the chest of the Minotaur; it staggered back and lost its grip on the axe.

And then it flailed blindly at the air. It couldn’t see and didn’t know where he was. Jess stayed still, watching; it must be listening for any clues, but the wild hammer of gunfire from the other side of the Necropolis would be overwhelming for it.

The Minotaur ran at the side of a tomb and began to batter it, cracking marble as pale as bone.

Jess couldn’t kill the thing, but at least it wasn’t an immediate threat. He swung the mirror around and looked for the next bronze reflector; he aimed the beam of light at it, and instantly, the entire chamber illuminated with a bright glow as the array of mirrors lit up in series. It was oddly beautiful, this city of white houses and monuments and unmoving gods.

It was also a war zone. Now that the area was lit, Jess had a clear view of where the Elites had stationed their gunners, and he made his way in that direction, coming at an angle that put him at their backs. One was fully exposed in the light now, and Jess paused and aimed, fired, and saw blood splash in a shocking spray on white marble. The High Garda Elite soldier slumped. Down, or dead, didn’t matter at the moment. The Elites wouldn’t be able to tell that he was behind them, with the echoes in this vast cave. It was all a rattle of noise coming from all directions.

He surveyed the landscape of close-crowded buildings and found an easy approach to one of the higher tombs; even better, the tomb had a roofline that provided good cover. He climbed onto a simple mastaba, then jumped from that to a larger tomb, then made it to the roof of the last one. The effort made his vision go soft around the edges, but he made it; he rolled behind the protection of the small ledge around the roof and steadied his rifle on it. He saw four targets, and with methodical precision he aimed and fired.

He didn’t miss.

He watched from his prone, resting position as the rest unfolded. Anit’s crew swarmed one of the defended positions on the ground and took possession of the weapons after the Elites fell. Jess spotted Wolfe and Glain leading another band of mercenaries forward toward the Serapeum, where the last of the resistance was located. I should be with them, he thought, but it felt good here. Calm and comfortable. He could do more for them here.

And as it happened, that was the right decision, because a sniper wearing the Elite uniform crawled up to the roof of a tomb that had a good vantage point against his friends. The sniper had chosen—probably accidentally—a position that was partially blocked from his view by a statue of Anubis. Jess shuffled himself over as far as he could without tipping off the roof, and got a clearer angle on the Elite soldier.

But he missed. And the sniper whirled, searched for who’d shot at him, and Jess saw him aiming back.

Better not miss a second time.

He dropped his opponent with a bullet through the chest, and only seconds later realized that he’d killed a woman. He didn’t know her, but she was younger than he’d expected, and it hit unexpectedly hard. But he’d had no choice. She would have gladly put a round in Wolfe’s back, or Glain’s. Or in his own head.

The firing reached a fever pitch, but it was all concealed from him inside the Serapeum; he watched tensely and finally relaxed when he saw Glain come outside and raise her fist. A sign of victory. She seemed all right, and Wolfe appeared a moment later, bloodstained but upright.

Jess climbed down and began the walk toward the Serapeum. He saw the blinded Minotaur still reeling and uncontrolled in the distance; it bashed holes in everything it touched, but it was easy to avoid now. Someone would have to put it completely down later, but it wouldn’t be him, thankfully.

He’d done enough.

He made it to within a few feet of the Serapeum before his vision grayed out again, and as Glain came toward him he said, “I think I need to sit down.”