Sword and Pen (The Great Library #5)(99)

“Doubt it,” Dario said. He had a cut on his head that was flooding crimson over his shirt; Jess hadn’t seen it happen, and Dario hardly even seemed aware of it. “Glain. Step away.” Glain did. Dario moved forward and put the point of his dagger against the captain’s throat.

“Are we playing this game again?” The captain’s teeth were gritted, but he seemed more irritated than frightened. “I’ll tell you nothing.”

“You said that when you were up against a good man. Look into my eyes, my friend, and tell me what you see. Am I a good man?” Dario grinned. It was one of the most chilling things Jess had seen him do. “I am going to kill you for the damage you’ve already done to my friends. And the only thing that will stop me is if you give his location. The only thing. And you have three seconds before I start stabbing you. I intend to see how many holes I can make before you die.”

“You’re a liar—”

“That took three seconds,” Dario said, and moved his dagger. He plunged it into the man’s side, and even Jess flinched; he hadn’t expected it. Clearly, neither had the captain, who let out a choked cry. “It’s a pity you chose this. Well, actually, it’s not.” He withdrew the blade and moved to the man’s shoulder. He thrust expertly between bones, and the captain, pallid with shock, cried out this time. “Because I very much am going to enjoy—”

“Dario,” Wolfe said. “Stop.”

“No,” Dario said. “You don’t command me, Scholar. Not this time. I want this old man. I want this to be done, for all our sakes. He knows. He’ll talk.”

The captain, pale and silent, shook his head. Jess closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see it, but he knew Dario had stabbed again when he heard the breathless scream. “Stop!” The captain’s voice was raw with panic now.

“Talk,” Dario replied. “Three seconds.”

“He’s going to kill her,” the captain blurted. It was very nearly a snarl. Defiant to the end. “He’s in the Serapeum, after your false Archivist. And he’s going to make it hurt.”

Dario froze. His blade was still in the man’s body, and for a moment Jess wasn’t certain what he meant to do. Then he slowly pulled the dagger out and said, “He’s going after Khalila.” There was no emotion to the words at all.

But all of it was in the blade he buried in the captain’s heart.

Someone—Morgan, perhaps, still upstairs—gasped audibly, but no one else made a sound, not even Wolfe.

Jess felt an awful sort of emotion, something he could hardly understand that swept through him. Horror, yes, but also a kind of approval. He would have been executed, he thought. Maybe that was cleaner than he deserved.

Dario removed the blade, wiped it clean on the hem of his jacket, and said, “We need to go. Right now.”

Not even Wolfe argued the point. But he turned to Jess and said, “Can you make it?”

“I will,” Jess said.

But he knew his time was running out. And from the bleak look in the Scholar’s eyes, so did Wolfe.





EPHEMERA



Text of a letter from Lord Commander Niccolo Santi to his lover, Christopher Wolfe, put aside in case of his death


I suppose it seems foolish to tell you now that I’ve loved you since the moment I first set eyes on you, Chris; that was self-evident at the time, and though I’ve never said it I assume you noticed.

Then again, you’ve always had a terrible opinion of your own attractiveness, so maybe you didn’t. It doesn’t matter now. I only meant to tell you that although I know my duty to the Great Library, it is a great struggle right now to not hand over my title, quit this battle, and find you. I want you safe. I want you always.

But I know that you’d just shout at me to go back to what I do best, even though I’ve lost an Archivist to assassins, even though I have little chance of holding this city against enemies inside and out. We’ve always had the odds against us, and God knows this is not my first failure, only my greatest.

I’ll stay the course. And I know you will try to look after yourself, and those around you, because that’s who you are.

I love you. Even if I can’t be with you, I will never leave you.

I just wanted you to know that if you can’t hear it from me tomorrow.





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN





THOMAS

The poisonous gas lapped around Thomas’s lower legs now, and he felt frozen in place. He’d come so far, solved so many riddles, and now . . . now this.

It wasn’t fair.

Thomas forced himself to think, not give in to the panic that stormed through him. This gas, was it the same that had so badly damaged Jess? Dragonfire, it was called?

If it was, then he had time. The smell was overwhelming, but it would take time to kill him. Minutes, perhaps hours or days. Certainly enough time to do what was necessary or there wouldn’t have been any point in Heron’s automaton warning him there was a puzzle to be solved.

His gaze raced around the room as he put the mask he’d been given back on. It wasn’t of much use now—he’d exhausted the supply of whatever alchemical gas had been placed within it—but at least it helped a bit. It would buy him a few moments more.