Santiago had his weapons in hand. I touched a blade and then a scabbard. He wouldn't need those here. We weren't going to fight our way out.
As the metal room shivered down the shaft, dangled by a long steel rope, I examined my companions with the time-sight I was now granted.
Benjamin Franklin stood at the crossroads of a vast network. As I shifted the probabilities, he stayed there, always at the center. There were other futures, ones in which he didn't exist, but these were dark places. A world without Ben was no world at all.
But the light was more interesting, the times when Ben was alive, smirking and winking, changing events with a well-placed word or phrase. If ever there was a center of the universe, it was him, standing in bright armor made of words and ideas.
When my gaze fell upon Santiago, I recoiled, not in horror or fear, but in sorrow. Upon his soul, I could see how that curse had been imprinted on him, anchoring him in time. Where Ben was a traveler, hiking the all-possible futures, Santiago, the White Lord, was a solitary figure surrounded by darkness. If time was a jail, then he was its sole prisoner.
For both, I saw snippets of events, faces and places they might see or experience. But not in the darkness, those lightless realms where we had lost.
Like the bloody snow.
That time-theft was a pathway to darkness. A road to ruin.
When the room shuddered to a stop, I opened the iron fence and led them into a great room, an endless room. A chill wind swept past us, rustling our clothes. Only the crystalline light from the steel room dared to oppose the darkness.
From a cabinet on the wall, I produced a globe that glowed with fey light when my skin warmed it. With it held above my head like a beacon, I marched forward.
Shapes loomed in the dim shadows. Solitary, upright figures. Rows of them. Endless rows.
I knew what they were. Knew everything about them. For the same reason I could sense the swarming ants above. I was still connected to the library. A thin ghostly umbilical cord, but it was enough.
At the head of the row nearest stood an old man with a curved back, who couldn't have stood more than five minutes if he were alive. His loose chins turned his expression into a hangdog stare.
Behind him was an old woman with dirty gray, wispy hair. She looked like she was taking a nap standing up. The woman behind her was younger, with sagging breasts and old pockmarked scars on her face. Gloom clouded the faces of those further back.
Concentrating for a moment flared the globe, sending light across the cavern in a ripple that kissed off the motionless heads, traveling outward, but never ending, only fading from sight.
These were the near-dead, the brains of the library. They were alive, but not alive. They would stand here for an eternity.
Ben and Santiago were repulsed by what they saw. Sensing their questions, I reached out and plucked an almost invisible cord that connected to the shoulder of the old man through a steel hook. The other end went up into the darkness, presumably to the ceiling far above.
Once they had recovered, I led them through the near-dead, taking the pathways that the Keepers used. We walked in silence.
It was hard not to look at their faces and wonder what their lives were like and if they'd willingly come to the Library, or had been maliciously kidnapped by ambitious Keepers wanting to add to the great store of knowledge. There were other Keepers here, too, run afoul of their maneuvering and forced to submit to the Uthlaylaa and their red mist.
A few times, I sensed others in the cavern of the near-dead, but went in other directions so our paths did not intersect. Not because they could harm us, but the other way around. There'd been enough death today. I knew from my connection with the anwar e'e toche that Santiago had slain Keeper Lathroso.
The Uthlaylaa that had been assisting her, however, had not died by anyone's hand. Rather, it'd succumbed to the psychic assault during its connection to me. Killed by its own creation.
We walked for hours. Ben and Santiago had no idea where I was leading them, but they trusted me. It wasn't like I could speak to them in my state.
While we traveled, I tested the connection I had to the Great Library. Using the painting of the fourth aspect of Baba Yaga, I sent tendrils into the near-dead mind. Immediately, I found what I was looking for and almost stumbled into the corpse next to me.
I was lucky I found it so quickly, because the sentience of the library sought me out, but I snatched the information away and retreated past the umbilical cord, where it couldn't follow.
After we walked for what felt like a day, we came to a spiral staircase that wrapped around a stone pillar. Up, up, up we went, trudging until our thighs burned and we were coated in a fine sweat.
Eventually, we came out in the lower streets of Inverness, slipping out a hidden door in a refuse-filled alleyway. Bloodflies covered the dead form of a furred animal half-sticking out of the pile. The insects immediately set upon us, so we ran until we escaped them.
Once we'd outrun the insects, I tried to keep going, but Santiago tugged on my sleeve. Whatever they were trying to say with their gestures, I couldn't understand, so I motioned for Santiago to lead.
Before long, we found a seedy inn, and Santiago purchased a room for the night. There was mold in the corners and it stunk like old vomit. No one dared to sleep on the mattress. We each curled up on the floor and let exhaustion claim us.
Chapter Sixteen
Snap! Crack!
I awoke with my hands over my ears, afraid someone had stolen into our room and was breaking bones.
Crack!
"Merde! Stop!" I croaked.
"Kat?" asked Ben's overloud voice.
"Stars and stones, stop shouting," I said, cringing.
Ben and Santiago shared a glance. "We're not shouting. In fact, we've been whispering. I don't think it's safe to stay here much longer."
"What is that noise then?" I asked.
I knew they thought I was crazy. I was crazy, but not in the way they thought. Ben was fixing his shirt, while Santiago had been in the middle of lacing his boots.
Pop!
I realized it was Santiago's knobby knuckles making the noise.
Ben offered a smile. "Are you well enough to travel?" I nodded, with a grimace on my lips. "And I'm pleased to see that you can speak again. I was afraid that whatever fell things that Uthlaylaa had done to you had damaged you permanently."
"No...yes, maybe. It tried to take me into it. I was still connected to it for a while," I said, wishing I had a bucket of cold water to drink. My tongue was sticking to the roof of my mouth.
A roaring thunder that grew to a painful crescendo had me burying my head between my knees in agony until it was gone. When I lifted my head, Ben and Santiago were staring at me.
"How are we going to get you back to the hut if you curl up in a ball every time there's even a moderate noise?" asked Ben.
"I'll manage," I said.
"They're bound to be looking for us," said Santiago. "It'll make it easier for them to find us."
The connection I had with the library was no longer there. I couldn't tell where the Keepers were looking or if they knew we were outside the walls.
"Did you see anything leave my body during the night?" I asked.
"What sorcery do you speak of?" asked Santiago.
"Not sorcery. Did you see a red mist? It's how the Uthlaylaa connect people to the library. It's a catalyst, or connection somehow," I said, but they weren't understanding.
In my dreams, I'd seen the red mist hiding in Ben's dead mouth. Did that mean it'd gone into him? Or that he'd been taken by the library?
Ben quirked a smile. "The way you are looking at me does not inspire me with confidence."
"Things are...confusing," I said.
"The longer we wait," said Santiago, "the more likely they will catch us."
Using my rapier, I sliced a couple of lengths of cloth, balled them up, and shoved them into my ears. They dulled the worst of the sound.
Santiago had determined our location from the innkeeper while I slept. He led us into an alleyway for a few meters before I told him to stop.
"Not this way," I said, cringing from the ambient noise of the busy street. The iron-wrapped wheels of a nearby wagon on the flagstones were like a constant drum in my head.
"I thought you couldn't move?" he asked, crossing his arms. "You're practically to tears out here."
Though the noise made me a little delirious, I sensed a tugging in my chest, leading me in the opposite direction.
"We need to go this way," I said.
He shook his head, lips bunched into a frown. "That's the wrong way."
"Trust me like you did in the library," I said. "And cover your head. That hair sticks out here."
Santiago narrowed his gaze and pulled the cloak over his snowy hair.
We walked a few blocks before I felt an urgent thumping in my chest demanding we go into a nearby shop. Without warning the others, I went through the door, a small bell ringing my entrance.
We stood inside a curiosity shop. Shelves went to the ceiling, packed with boxes, gadgets, old porcelain dolls, broken things, a few dusty tomes, and other oddities. The musty air had a solidity as if we stood in a hut for curing leather.
No one came to greet us. The shopkeeper either hadn't heard the bell, or was busy in back.
I didn't know why I was supposed to enter and gave Ben and Santiago an open-palmed shrug. The instant they turned to leave, heavy growling erupted from outside.
A smoke-spitting vehicle with tall wheels and a huge cab on the back entered the street, powered by a steam engine. Keepers with weapons hung off the sides.
We ducked behind the shelves while the patrol passed. The thunderous engine rattled my ears and made my teeth hurt, but I stayed upright. They were looking for us.
A few minutes after the patrol was gone, I motioned to leave. Santiago had a strange look on his face, but he declined to ask the question that lurked behind his eyes.
Santiago didn't question me about my directions after that. Our route through the city was torturous, taking a few hours due to the constant double backs and hasty retreats, but we reached the location of the hut without incident.
Marvelous Morwen's Confectionary and Sweet House lay but a few blocks away. The sign waved in the light breeze. We stood in the shadows of an alleyway. Ben stirred to move forward, but I held him back.
"Something's wrong," I said.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "The hut's right there. We're almost back."
For most of the time we hadn't been able to see the sky. Only within the last hour had we reached a level that caught scraps of steel blue between the archways. Globes were being lit, indicating that evening was coming.
A band of kids ran across the street, their noisy cries making me squint. They were playing tag, or running from another group.
Maybe I was imagining things, or maybe the lack of direction from the prophecy had fooled me into thinking something was wrong. Like having a supporting shoulder suddenly pulled away.
"Maybe I'm just paranoid," I said.
The moment we made it out of the alleyway, the street exploded with activity. Thundering up the hill from the street behind came a steam cart with Keepers hanging off the sides, wide-mouthed rifles in their fists. From the cross street, another band of Keepers in light mail and swords appeared. At the head of the second group, a gray-skinned Uthlaylaa in light blue robes planted its feet in the middle of our path. I sensed fell energies emanating from the creature.
Santiago had his weapons out, while Ben had produced a pistol and had a sticky globe in his left hand. I smacked the hilt of the oestium rapier, and summoned sorcery to my mind.
"Come on," said Santiago, rushing forward, his cloak swirling behind him. His sharp features betrayed no fear. He moved forward like a falcon in full sweep.
We fell in behind him. I launched a blast behind us, forcing the steam cart to swerve, throwing a Keeper onto the paving stones in a bone-rattling crunch.
A broad-shouldered Keeper in the cart lifted the wide-mouthed weapon in his fist. A net flew from the end, spinning through the air until it hit Santiago full in the back, tumbling him hard to the ground. The net wrapped around his arms and legs.
I ran to untangle Santiago, screaming at Ben, who'd stopped moving and stood in the center of the street with his arms at his side and a blank look on his face. I sensed the Uthlaylaa manipulating Ben somehow and feared I knew the reason.
The steam cart was coming too fast. I stopped trying to lift the net and instead pointed my rapier in its direction and funneled my magic through the tip. Rather than a rolling wave of purplish-black sorcery, a tight beam of blistering heat shot from the end, slamming into the right wheel. The cart disintegrated as the wheel flew off, scattering men and weapons in an arc. Screams were truncated by dull thuds. The cart tumbled over itself until it stopped about five meters from our location.
"Ben, snap out of it," I screamed, trying to ignore the way loud noises were spiking through my head while I untangled Santiago.
Then Ben started walking forward, no weapons in his hands. He looked like he was sleepwalking.
By the time I'd freed Santiago, two more steam carts full of Keepers thundered up the hill towards our location. We had a little time before they arrived, but the other Keepers and the Uthlaylaa were still in our way.
"What is he doing?" said Santiago, motioning to Ben with his weapons.
"They have control of him. We need to stop that Uthlaylaa," I said.
Santiago rushed forward in long loping strides. I sent a wave of sorcery in an arc over Santiago's head, hoping to break the Uthlaylaa's control over Ben. The creature swatted away my magic as if it were a buzzing fly.
There was no way we were going to get through, even without Ben under its control. Santiago couldn't beat twenty men with long swords and light mail, while I couldn't overcome the Uthlaylaa. I thought we were trapped until I heard a bright whistle from the direction of the hut.
Morwen stood on the porch, the glass bottle contraption on her back, the brass tube that ran from her back pointed towards the massed Keepers.
"You might want to let my friends through," she said, waving the arm with the tubes running down its length. When no one moved, she let an eager grin form on her lips.
I expected a lot of things to come out of that brass tube. Fire, wind, maybe even smoke like when we were trapped on Gallasid. I didn't expect what actually came out.
When the first bubble appeared, I thought it might be a precursor to a more dangerous projectile. But then the bubbles kept coming, shooting out, not like lazy dandelions on a breeze, but like rocks thrown from a slingshot.
A Keeper swatted the first bubble away with a mailed fist, and it exploded in his face, throwing jets of fire in all directions. The next few exploding bubbles scattered the Keepers right as Santiago arrived.
He looked like a dancer without a partner, spinning and leaping through the Keepers, his blade slashing out to make bright ribbons against their chests.
Between Morwen and Santiago, a path had been opened, but Ben had stopped moving. The two steam carts were nearing. A few shots from their net guns and we'd be on our way back to the Library of the Dead in Keeper chains.
Like I'd done with the steam cart, I pointed my oestium rapier at the Uthlaylaa, letting my magic shoot out the end. The beam of energy hit the creature full in the chest, breaking its hold on Ben.
He stumbled forward and gave me a worried glance. I grabbed his hand and said, "To the hut!"
The Uthlaylaa recovered, but by then it had to avoid Morwen's exploding bubbles. I threw jets of sorcery to keep the remaining Keepers from rallying, while Santiago cut down those in our way.
We reached the hut out of breath, but well ahead of the other Keepers.
"Bubbles?" I laughed as I passed Morwen, who responded with a wink.
With the door shut behind us, Morwen closed her eye
s, and I sensed the hut leaving the world of Inverness and the Library of the Dead. Not only had we escaped, but we'd gotten the information we needed, the other route into Russia.
The only problem was that Ben Franklin had been compromised by the red mist from the Uthlaylaa. I caught Santiago's serious stare as we waited for Morwen to finish moving us away from Inverness. Even Ben seemed to sense something was wrong. His forehead wrinkled with internal dialogue, his lips looking surprisingly hesitant to summon words.
As Morwen finished, opening her eyes with sudden clarity and looking directly at Ben, Brassy and William entered the front room.
"Did you get what we need?" asked Morwen, still looking at Ben with concern in her gaze.
"Yes, I did," I said. "But I think we have a problem that we need to talk about right now."
Santiago gave a nod of approval while Ben tugged on his vest, still trying to figure out what had happened to him. He reminded me of the first gentleman we'd encountered who had lost his memory.
I took a deep breath and said, "Ben has been infected by the Library of the Dead."
Chapter Seventeen
I had to explain how the Library of the Dead actually worked a few times before the others understood. William was disgusted, Brassy wide-eyed with curiosity, and Nasrine indifferent to the idea. Only Morwen wasn't surprised.
Ben took the news of his infection stoically. Even as I explained that the red mist from the Archivist had gone into him while we slept, his mouth shifted with thought. Ever the strategist, he was constantly moving pieces across the board, even when he was the piece in question.
"I'll have to leave the hut," he said, tugging his vest into place. "I cannot be counted on in times of danger. The Keepers might still try to get back at us, especially since they know how valuable Katerina is."
"It was a mistake to offer knowledge of the Jinn-Se-San. I should have suggested something less important," I said.
Santiago took a handkerchief out of an inside pocket and wiped the blood from his blade on it before slipping the weapon back into its scabbard. He folded the bloody fabric into a neat square and then tucked it back into the pocket. "They wouldn't have parted with the information we needed for anything less, I think."
The Queen of Dreams (The Dashkova Memoirs Book 6) Page 11