Sword and Pen (The Great Library #5)(78)

“Can the old Archivist open any of the gates? The northeast, perhaps?”

It was a serious suggestion, and Wolfe considered it. “Where the Russians are camped? Certainly he could try to let them inside, but again, Santi would have thought of it. He’ll have a concentration of forces there, and at the second choice of gate as well. No, the Archivist isn’t so much of a strategist; he leaves that to his experts. He’d be looking for something no one else considers. Something that will give him a real advantage.”

“Such as . . . ?”

It was on the tip of his brain but refused to come to him. Something glimpsed from the corner of the eye that vanished in full view. He almost knew. Almost. But there was a missing piece, something that would tell him definitively where the old man would shift. Until he saw that, he wouldn’t be able to find the answer.

And then it didn’t matter, because the Codex in his hands shivered and a new message arrived. He handed it back to Glain; manners dictated that he not read her correspondence, but he couldn’t help gleaning the meaning even from the unintended glance. It was confirmed when Glain said, “Santi’s summoning us to the Serapeum. I don’t know why. Maybe he’s got new information.”

“Or maybe it’s something worse,” Wolfe said. “All right. We’ll need to head back through the tunnels—”

“He’s sending a transport,” Glain said. “To the front of the Necropolis. We’re to meet him there. I don’t think the criminals are invited.”

“Hey,” came Jess’s muffled protest. “I’m still going.”

“I didn’t mean you, idiot. I meant—” She gestured at Anit and her clustered forces, who were preparing their injured and dead to be taken home. “You know what I meant.”

Anit must have noticed Wolfe’s glance toward her, because she walked to them, touched Jess’s sweaty head, and said, “All right, my brother?”

He removed the mask. “Yes, I’m fine. Sister.” There was something there, Wolfe thought. He’d always thought the smugglers only referred to one another as cousins in the business of crime. This seemed . . . more. “I’m sorry you lost so many.”

“They knew the risks,” she said. “And I’ll pay the Library price.”

“Library price?” Glain asked.

Jess smiled. Not a very comforting expression, given his gaunt pallor. “The tradition is that for every one of our cousins that falls fighting High Garda, we pay a large sum to their families, and sponsorship for their children.”

“Same as the High Garda does for its soldiers,” Glain said. “Clever, if reprehensible.”

“Well, the High Garda started the fight.”

“You are High Garda, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I haven’t,” Jess said. “But we both know those days are coming to an end, Glain.”

There was a certain chilly certainty to that, and Wolfe felt it down his spine. He made his tone especially bitter when he said, “Enough chat, children. Anit, you may call on me for favors. Two or three of them, not to include any books from the Great Archives. Understood?”

“Yes, Scholar. I accept. If you need more help, well. More favors. You understand.”

“I do.” He offered her his hand, and she took it. “Thank you.”

It was only in the awkward way she nodded that he saw her youth, just a flash and then gone. She walked back to her own, giving Jess one last look. He nodded in farewell, then—with Glain’s help—got to his feet.

“Can you walk to the entrance?” Wolfe asked him. “No egotistical nonsense. It’s a direct question.”

“Yes,” Jess said. He looked down for a second. “Not much further. I need rest.”

“Obviously. And you’re going to get it if I have to have the Medica put you in restraints.”

The fact that the boy didn’t argue worried him. Deeply.

He’d just turned away when he felt the shift of air above them, heard the impact. Wolfe whirled back and saw the sphinx throwing Glain hard to the ground, its weight grinding her down. Its claws flexed and ripped bloody furrows through her uniform cloth, armor, and skin below.

He shouted and reached for his weapon, but then he froze as the sphinx turned its head to regard him. It hissed in warning, and the claws sunk deeper. Glain twisted and cried out, and he stopped and raised his hands. “Let her go.” He didn’t know why he said it; surely the sphinx wasn’t going to respond to him. But he could draw its focus, at least, while Jess moved in on it to turn it off. “Please. Let her go.”

He had the weird sense that this sphinx listened, that the menace he felt coming off the thing wasn’t simply mechanical programming but something almost human. An intelligence looking through its eyes.

Jess didn’t need instructions. He approached carefully, and Wolfe moved a little, trying to hold the thing’s attention.

It didn’t work. It moved its head to stare at Jess and freeze him in place, and clawed deeper into Glain. Gods. Wolfe swallowed a bubble of horror and tried to keep everything calm. All around them, guns bristled, and all were focused on the sphinx, but even if they all fired at once, the sphinx could easily rip the young woman’s spine out before it was disabled. They had to find a way to turn it off without risking Glain’s life any further.