Sword and Pen (The Great Library #5)(94)

She slumped against the wall of what would usually be a busy bakery but was silent as the grave tonight, and removed her Codex as she gasped for breath. Her legs were shaking with the effort, and she let herself slide down to a sitting position to brace herself for writing.

She sent the first message to Captain Botha, reporting what she’d seen. Then Wolfe, Dario, Khalila, Thomas, and Morgan, telling them where she’d last seen the creature and where she was. Not Jess; she didn’t want to tempt him to leave the Medica building. Not Santi, who couldn’t be distracted in the middle of this battle. She needed everyone on this; she had the feeling the automaton’s orders would be something awful and very important. Having written it, she waited for messages back.

Morgan was the first, and she said, I’m tracking it. Attempting to gain control.

Glain concentrated on slowing her breathing and letting her body rest a moment. The reply came from Dario, too. He was heading out from the Serapeum. Don’t be a fool and do this alone. Tell me where you are. Rich, coming from him. But she appreciated the sentiment. She dashed off a quick reply to give him the cross streets.

Nothing back from Wolfe or Thomas. Khalila wrote that she couldn’t leave the Serapeum but that any resources needed by any of them that were not devoted to the battle at the gates were theirs to command.

Morgan’s distinctive handwriting appeared as she began to acknowledge Khalila’s message. She wrote, It’s coming for you, Glain.

Glain read it, but before she had time to truly take it in she heard a low, rumbling growl. Not thunder this time. The rain was starting to slow, and she looked up to see the lion padding down the center of the empty street.

Glain stood up, slamming her Codex back in her belt, and readied her rifle. It was possible—dimly possible—to stop a lion with a precision shot to the eye, but in reality she wasn’t quite that good. Worth a try, though. She knew she couldn’t outrun the thing, and though she knew how to turn the regular models off, if this one had been modified it would be her last mistake. And this one seemed . . . modified.

Why was it stalking her? She just wasn’t that important.

The lion came for her at a quick, straight trot. Even as much experience as she had with automata, this one had a special dread for her, and she couldn’t even think why. Something in the proportions. The way it moved. The way its eyes gleamed, as if it was hungry.

Another explosion at the northeast gate. She felt it through the wall of the bakery, the stones beneath her feet, but she couldn’t afford to turn to look.

She slowly let out her breath and fired for the thing’s glowing red eye.

She missed. Not by much, a fraction of an inch. The bullet struck metal instead of the hardened glass of the eye. Didn’t even leave a scratch.

The lion broke into a run. It was seconds away, and she fired again, but this shot was even less precise. She wanted to run, every instinct screamed for it, but she set herself like a mountain. I will not move.

Out of nowhere, she remembered something from a book she’d read back at Ptolemy House as a student. The gods conceal from us the happiness of death, that we may better endure life.

Oddly cheering, in this moment when she saw death coming straight for her.

“What the hell are you doing, just standing there?” a voice in her ear said, and a hand pulled her elbow and yanked her around the corner, out of the lion’s sight. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

She knew the severe tone before she saw his face. Scholar Wolfe. Of course. That was why the lion had come this way.

It wasn’t after her at all. It was locked on him.

She was just in the way.

“Run!” she said. “I’ll keep it busy.”

“Not alone you won’t.” That was Jess, who—she realized with a shock—was leaning with one hand on a wall not far away. She really must be slipping; she hadn’t even noticed him at first. “We can work together. We have to.”

“No time, it’s coming!” She ripped free of Wolfe’s grasp. “It’s after you. Get out of here! Now!”

She felt a sudden burst of air from behind her, and felt a wave of heat simmer over her skin; for a horrible second she thought it was Greek fire and they were all dead, but then she saw Jess’s face and knew exactly what had happened.

She turned and found Morgan had appeared behind her. She’d Translated in, though how that was possible without a configured Translation Chamber Glain couldn’t even imagine. Pure power, most likely.

“Move!” Morgan shouted, and Glain did, diving out of her way toward Jess. The least she could do was stand between the walking wounded and the fight. Morgan stepped in front of Wolfe, who did not seem pleased by it.

The lion padded around the corner and stopped to assess the situation. Its massive head turned to regard Wolfe. Morgan, in front of him, looked very small in comparison.

Glain put a flat hand against Jess’s chest as Jess tried to move forward. “No,” she said. “She can do this.”

The lion came toward Wolfe. Morgan stepped toward it, hand outstretched. Glain tensed as the lion’s jaws opened, revealing a horrifying array of teeth. It could snap her in half, easily.

It simply . . . stopped.

“There you are,” Morgan whispered. “Someone’s rewritten you. Removed you from the system. They’ve made you their pet killer.” Her fingers twitched, as if she were holding an invisible pen and writing on thin air. “He’s very good, your master. But arrogant.”