The Book Eaters(13)

“Where the knights leave their dragons,” Devon finished, scooting carefully along the roof’s ridge board. “We should have a look at them. I’ve never seen one up close.”

“Are you off your rocker? We can’t do that!”

“It’s just a look,” she said, scornful. “I thought you wanted to see one close up!”

“Well, yeah, I did, but c’mon, they’re dragons!”

“Oh, don’t be such a baby! You’re the one who said they’re safe because the knights have them trained up,” she said, liking her own idea more by the minute. “The party is boring and I’ve eaten all those books before. Let’s have a look at these dragons.”

Devon swung her feet over the roof gutter and braced against the downspout to lower toward the window below.

It was against the rules, but she wasn’t frightened. Book eater girls were special and rare and didn’t get into much trouble. Whenever Devon got into trouble, Uncle Aike never did anything worse than make her eat pages out of a dictionary.

“This is stupid!” Ramsey called down, sounding aggrieved.

“Shut up!” she hissed, and alighted on the wide sill, pressed up against a glass window.

She was immediately disappointed. Rows of oak shelves stood sullen and overladen with books. No one was inside, and there were no dragons to gawk at. Devon frowned, scrutinizing the room carefully.

Ramsey landed on the sill next to her. “Devon the Dumb. Look, the dragons aren’t even here. Can we go to the party now?”

“They must be here, the knights always leave them here.” She pointed. “One of those back rooms, maybe? We should go in and see.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said uneasily. “We can’t just go in and wander around.”

“Why not? Are you scared of dragons?” She wriggled her fingers underneath the loose-fitting window. “Or are you only brave when they wear their helmets?”

“I’m not scared, helmets or no,” he hissed. “I just think we could get in trouble—”

“So go downstairs and sit in the hall like a good little scaredy-cat. I’ll sneak in all by my dumb self without your help.” Devon wrenched the window open.

The act threw her off-balance. She pinwheeled backward, teetering on the ledge.

Ramsey grabbed her shirt with a steadying hand. “You wouldn’t last five minutes without me.”

“I only slipped ’cause you were talking at me.” She squashed her too-tall frame through the partially open window.

The south-side library did not get much sunlight. So much the better for preserving the books. The books sat in shadow, carefully dusted and the shelves in pristine condition. Instead of the usual Fairweather preference for dark leather bindings, the cache in here varied enormously: old to new, hardback and paperback, all in different sizes and designs.

Ramsey squeezed in through the window and came to stand next to her. “Five minutes, and then we’re leaving,” he whispered.

“Shush! If they’re in here, they’ll hear you.”

At least three other rooms led off from this one, fitted with yet more shelves. The farthest room was sealed away from sight behind a shut door, which immediately drew her interest.

“Let’s try that postern first.” She drifted over the tattered carpets around the L-shaped bend, weaving between cases to reach the farthest end of the library.

“You have really terrible ideas,” he muttered. “I bet they’re not even in here.” His cockiness was evaporating rapidly, to her amusement.

“One way to find out,” she said, twisting the brass knob. “And calm down, won’t you? I only want to peek.”

The door opened soundlessly, just enough for them to squint through the crack.

This side room within was lined with ancient shelves, the wood fractured and dark from years of over-lacquering. Tomes older than the house crowded the space, as did stacks of parchment and vellum written in languages she did not know but could learn from eating if she wished.

But Devon barely registered those forbidden treasures. At the far end of the room stood two men in suits, facing the wall with heads bowed, necks marked with ouroboros serpents in thickly inked tattoos. No helmets. Hands at sides, curled into fists.

Chests rose and fell very slightly with breath, but they otherwise did not move or stir.

“We should go,” Ramsey said, in the smallest voice she’d ever heard from him.

Stubbornness welled in her. They’d already come this far. Devon opened her mouth to say just a second. But the words wouldn’t come out. Sudden uncertainty bubbled in her belly, spurred by the supernatural stillness of the two figures in the room. She had never met any adults who were so frozen.

As if sensing her hesitation, the dragons turned around in eerie sync, movements sinuous and fluid.

Bloodshot eyes in pallid faces, nostrils flaring, hands twitching. Full of nervous energy when before they’d been so still, so silent. They strode forward and she did not know whether they were attacking, greeting, or simply curious.

Nor did she care to distinguish. Devon yelped and slammed the door shut, backing away. Suddenly, nosing through off-limits libraries did not seem like such a good idea after all.

“Window,” she managed. “Back to the window!”