Paper and Fire

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Paper and Fire Page 25

by Rachel Caine


  Maybe that was the nature of power. Jess didn't know, but he didn't like to think of himself as being part of it.

  He held to one thought: if they could change Frauke, maybe . . . maybe they could also, eventually, change the Library.

  EPHEMERA

  Text of a message from the Artifex Magnus to the Archivist Magister, marked URGENT

  They are together. Free. They have the young Obscurist.

  If they get away as a group, if Wolfe and Schreiber together can make their machine and teach others how to make it, then we lose everything. Knowledge becomes a common currency, as cheap as paper and ink, and all of the sanctity of the Library is lost.

  It is what I told you from the beginning: there is no compromise with rebellion. You coddled Wolfe for Keria's sake, and now it has led to this.

  We have no choice. This is a threat we must deal with, quickly and decisively, whatever it costs.

  Reply from the Archivist Magister, marked URGENT

  You were right from the beginning, and I regret I was too cautious.

  Kill them all.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The delay in the arrival of Santi's party had simply been caution; they'd stayed well away from any areas where they might have been noticed, and ate a long lunch instead--a fact that made Jess realize he was starving. Glain silently passed out rations and water, and let Thomas have three times as much as anyone else; it wasn't as good as the cold meats and cheeses that the others had enjoyed, but it'd do for now.

  Glaudino, clearly out of patience with his confinement--understandably; he and his workers had been locked in a small space for better than three hours now, and even with the food and water Glain gave them, they were likely miserable--began banging on the door again and threatening them with dire punishment. Frauke, crouching in the corner, swung her head that direction and growled. Despite knowing it was wrong, Jess felt a guilty spike of pleasure. Nice having something deadly on their side. "So, what about them?" Glain asked Santi.

  "Tie them, but leave them without gags. They can yell for help as much as they like once they wake up."

  "Wake up-- Oh." Glain nodded. He walked with her to the closet door, aimed, and gestured for her to open it. He dropped Glaudino first with a well-placed stun shot, then the other two, and dragged them out to tie their limp arms and ankles together. He and Glain settled the prisoners against the wall, and while they were at it, Jess turned to Wolfe.

  "We still don't have an exit plan," he said. "Do we?"

  "You do," Morgan said, and moved to stand beside him. She put her hand on Frauke's stiff metal mane. "If you get me to Rome's Translation Chamber, I can send you where you want to go. Let me help you. This is why I came, to make sure you could get away safely."

  "And to run away from the Iron Tower," Wolfe said. She gave him a look, and he shrugged. "I am not blaming you. I, of all people, understand."

  "There's a problem with that plan: no doubt the High Garda will be thick as fleas in the Translation Chamber by now, not to mention on every road leading to it. They'll know that's our best escape," Dario said. "We'd be playing right into their hands. Maybe Jess's illegal cousins would be a better idea, grubby criminals that they are. I'd rather have a long, tiring ride in the back of a wagon than a cell under the basilica."

  "It's too late for that," Jess said. "My cousins generally aren't in the business of being heroes. Our code is: Get caught, count yourself dead."

  "Pleasant folk you come from," Dario observed. "All right. Maybe we can buy our way out of the city. There must be someone who wants a fat purse and no questions asked."

  "There's another option," Santi said, rising from where he'd finished tying up their unconscious captives. "We can go where they don't expect us. Rome doesn't just have one Translation Chamber. It has two. Morgan? You came in that way. So did Wolfe. Did you destroy it or only disable it?"

  Santi was right: they had a decent chance, if all of the basilica guards were out looking, of walking right into the heart of the enemy's stronghold and using it for escape.

  "And what then?" Khalila asked. "Say we get away. Where do we go? Where's our safe haven? What chance do we have of staying free of the Library for any length of time at all?"

  "None," Dario said. "Not unless we find allies, quickly. Jess isn't willing to put his neck on the block, so someone has to." He looked across at Santi, and nodded toward the men unconscious on the floor. "How long are they good for?"

  "An hour, at most," Santi said. "What are you thinking?"

  "I don't want to explain. Give me half that time," Dario said. "If I'm not back, then let Jess try to enlist his criminal brethren or run for the basilica. But I might be able to help with allies and a safe haven."

  "Dario!" Khalila grabbed for him, but he was quick, the arrogant Spaniard. He grabbed her hand instead, raised it to his lips, and then pressed the back of it to his forehead as he bowed. "Don't go."

  "Why should Jess always be the one to run off on his adventures?" Dario sent Jess a wide, confident grin. "Half an hour, scrubber. Start the clock."

  Then he was gone.

  "We can't--" Khalila looked at Santi, then Wolfe. "We can't just let him go!"

  But they did.

  Dario Santiago didn't come back.

  The hour slipped away, and they waited as long as they could. Glain quietly suggested stunning Glaudino and his workers again, but Santi shook his head. Another shot risked real injury, possibly even death, and he didn't intend to leave bodies in his wake today unless they had no choice in the matter.

  "He knows the plan," Santi said. "We head for the basilica. Twilight is our best time; people will be heading home or out to take the evening air. It'll be harder to recognize us."

  "No!" Khalila pulled away from him, from all of them, and backed toward the open door of the workshop. "No, I'm not going to leave Dario behind. Jess--" She tried to get him to look at her, but he couldn't. Wouldn't. "Jess!"

  "The captain's right," Jess said, and hated himself for it. "We can't wait. I'm sorry. He didn't say where he was going, and we don't even know where to start to look for him."

  "Then we try! We came back for Thomas! We can't just abandon Dario!"

  She read their faces, and then, without warning, dashed for the door. Jess had seen that coming, though, and he was faster. He wrapped her in his arms, and she fought him surprisingly hard, with sharp, precise blows that almost made him let go. Almost. He protected himself as best he could. "Stop. Stop. He'll be all right, Khalila!" He looked to Glain for help. She folded her arms. Traitor.

  "No, he won't. You know he won't! He's not like you! He wants to show you that he can be just as clever, just as fast, just as . . ." She hit him again, this time a knee square to his family jewels, and he did let go. "Just as ruthless! And if you ever lay hands on me again, I will kill you, Jess Brightwell!"

  "I believe you," he gasped, and struggled not to double over. Failed. He'd done his best, and when Khalila moved to the door again, this time it was Scholar Wolfe who got in her way.

  She didn't attack Wolfe the way she had Jess. Maybe she didn't have the stomach for it when Wolfe put his hand on her shoulder and said, in that dark, strangely gentle voice, "We'll find him, Khalila. But not now. Now we have to look after ourselves."

  "Scholar--" Khalila's voice was shaking. "I can't abandon him."

  "You aren't. He knew the risks. He wouldn't want you to act impulsively, he'd want you to think. It's your defining feature. Your grace. Your strength."

  She took in a slow, shaking breath, and turned away. Her face was set and terrible, her eyes like dark pits, and she met no one else's gaze as she nodded. "Then let us run," she said, in a voice drained of anything but anger. "Run and hide, like frightened rabbits. How does this change the world, cowering in the dark? They'll pick us off one by one. Dario is only the first."

  "We'll get him back," Santi said. "Dario's smart. He's tough. He will survive this."

  Maybe he'll survive because h
e never meant to come back. It was a sickening thought, but Jess was a practical young man. He didn't have Khalila's idealism, or her love-distorted view of Dario. Maybe he's selling us out. In which case, we'd better move even faster.

  There was nothing else to say. Jess pushed pain to the background. He'd need to be ready to run or fight; this was still not guaranteed escape. And if we get to the Translation Chamber, what then? Where do we go? London, he thought. It was half instinct, going home, but it was also practical. His family resources could be commandeered from there, and his family had plenty of hiding places and bolt-holes; if he and Thomas showed Callum Brightwell the plans for the press, his father would be the first to recognize the potential. Reproducing books had the potential to increase his black-market business ten thousandfold.

  No more black sheep of the family. Jess would be welcomed with open arms, and the Library would never lay a hand on any of them. Callum didn't hold with Burner theories, but he wasn't a man to despise a good alliance, either; the Burners would be equally interested in the press, and what it meant for them to break the Library's stranglehold. It could be done.

  If they got away from Rome.

  "Frauke," Thomas said, and the lion immediately climbed to four paws, razor-barbed tail twitching. "Follow."

  Jess took one last look back at Glaudino's workshop as they threaded their way through the outer room full of silent, still automata. It was an eerie sight, seeing Frauke ghosting silently along behind Thomas between her identical dead automaton twins. It was going to give him nightmares the next time he closed his eyes.

  Then they were outside and pushing the door shut, and heading for the last place Jess wanted to face again. The logic of the plan was sound enough: the High Garda truly would be searching for them on the roads leading out of town, stopping carriages and transports, heavily guarding the central Roman Translation Chamber.

  But not the heart of their own power. Besides, they'd already have realized that Morgan had disabled the secret Translation Chamber. It was likely they'd consider it totally useless.

  Useless things weren't guarded at a time like this.

  "We'll have to enter through the public side," Scholar Wolfe said. "There's a staff door at the back of the Serapeum that leads into the basilica; it might be guarded, but not heavily. They won't expect us there."

  "What about the lions on the steps? They would have been alerted to us by now," Morgan said.

  Thomas sighed and looked back at Frauke, pacing steadily behind them with her eyes glowing bright, her head held high. "I'm sorry, Frauke. But we will all have to do our part, I think." He looked scarecrow thin, all large bones and angles, and with his hair and beard cut close he seemed so much older than Jess remembered him. But still gentle.

  How he managed that, Jess couldn't imagine. He'd lost his optimism so long ago, he could hardly remember how it felt, and he'd never been locked in that terrible, dark place. Never been dragged into that torture room.

  Thomas seemed all right, but Jess could tell it was a fragile kind of strength, floating on a river of adrenaline and hope. That tide would turn, and then the weight of the darkness would press on him, as it did on Wolfe. Jess knew he'd need to keep good watch on his friend when the shadows came for him.

  Rome seemed utterly normal as evening fell, and the sky faded from blue to a greenish teal. Stars emerged in shy peeks, then gaudy sprays. Their little party passed brightly lit restaurants, and Jess's stomach growled from the scent of roasting meats and fish.

  Having Frauke with them made a difference. People made way for them, some with respectful bows, since Glain, Jess, and Santi were all clearly armed High Garda, and the others, except Morgan, wore Scholar's robes. Morgan walked next to Wolfe, like a favored student or a fond daughter.

  And the lion, Frauke, paced behind them, a silent and watchful guardian that warned off even Burner sympathizers from any confrontation. Strange, how good it felt to have that power at his back, at his command. Jess didn't entirely like it. Too easy to become dependent on it.

  But it did make their walk to the Forum efficient.

  Standing in the shadow of Mercury's feet, in virtually the same spot where Burners had died only two days before, Wolfe and Santi assessed the situation of the basilica. As they'd predicted, it did seem quiet. People proceeded in and out of the public area of the Serapeum, and most of the pride of automata patrolled farther down. There was a lion crouched beside the open Serapeum door, scanning those who entered.

  "Can you turn it off?" Santi asked Jess, and he nodded.

  "I can if it's distracted."

  "That's my job," Santi said.

  "Nic--," Wolfe protested, but Santi cut him off.

  "No. I'm the better option. They'll all have me first on the list; after all, I'm the one who betrayed my own company." Even as he said it, Jess saw the pain that flashed through him, quickly banished to some dark corner inside. Captain Santi loved the High Garda; he loved the men and women under his command, and the responsibility he held for the lives of Scholars.

  "Jess, your job is to turn it off. Let me handle the distraction."

  Jess nodded. Thomas said quietly, "Frauke can help." That meant Frauke could go in single combat against the other lion, but Jess was well aware that if that happened, things would get much worse, much faster. The rest of the pride would come, and Frauke wouldn't last long against numbers.

  Neither would they.

  "Stay together until we get close. I'll draw the lion off," Santi said. "Jess, you know what to do then. The rest of you, just head straight inside. Don't wait for us."

  Jess nodded and turned to Thomas. "Keep Frauke with you. Of all of us, you may be the one they want most."

  Thomas knew that. His face was thin and pale under his new-cut hair and beard, and underneath his surface calm, he looked like he was fighting an urge to curl into a ball. He put a hand on Frauke's mane, and she purred that metallic, singing purr, and it seemed to help. "I know," he said. I won't go back, Jess. I can't do that."

  He'd rather die. Wolfe would be the same, Jess thought.

  "We're going to make it. Trust me." Jess tried to make himself sound positive of that and cheerful, and might have even succeeded, because Thomas pulled in a deep breath and nodded.

  "I do. Of course."

  As Santi started to take the lead, Morgan suddenly grabbed his arm. "No," she said. "Let me. It will know me as an Obscurist, but that means it will also be under strict instructions not to harm me."

  "You're sure of that?"

  "Absolutely. It won't dare."

  Jess hoped she was right as they mounted the marble steps. She looked confident and bold, all right, with her head held high. The ends of the silk scarf Jess had bought her floated like dreams on the cooling breeze. She looked beautiful and fragile and brave, and Jess couldn't take his eyes off of her as they climbed.

  The lion tilted its head down to regard their approaching group.

  Morgan took in a breath and hurried up ahead of the rest of them, and the lion rose from a crouch to a standing position.

  A mother with three young children ahead of them was startled by the movement and rushed her brood inside the Serapeum; Jess was grateful she did, because in the next second, the lion's eyes flickered red. It growled.

  "Move!" Santi called, and Glain grabbed Wolfe and hustled him inside fast, acting--once again--on her built-in priority to protect a Scholar. Khalila stayed with Thomas, and Jess glanced back to see that Thomas wasn't following the plan; he was waiting, ignoring Khalila's pulls on his arm to try to rush him to the entrance. Frauke paced restlessly near them, growling now herself.

  The Library lion paced down toward Morgan now, with his growl ratcheting up to an intimidating snarl. She backed slowly away from it, and Jess ghosted sideways, trying to work his way around it while it stayed focused on her. She circled and went backward up the stairs, and it paced to follow her. She let it back her up against the wall, and it pressed forward, snarling jaws in
ches from her face as it boxed her in.

  Then it let out a curious roaring sound that he'd never heard before. That must have been a signal to summon help, and Jess realized that they were out of time and luck. He darted in to get his fingers on the switch under the lion's jaw, but it saw him coming and shifted its weight sideways to block him. It was like running into a stone wall, and he was knocked into a sliding fall on the marble. As soon as he slowed, he rolled to his feet and tried again, slipping in under the swiping paw. The lion yanked its head aside as he tried to get to the switch, and this time, a batting blow connected squarely.

  It sent him rolling down the steps in a breathless heap of pain.

  As he blinked away bloody afterimages, he saw a shadow pass over him and heard the heavy crunch of a lion's body landing on the steps, then leaping away again. No, no--it's going after Thomas. But it wasn't the lion that had sent him tumbling down the stairs. It was their lion.

  Frauke let out a wild, full-throated cry of rage and slammed into the Library lion with so much force, it sounded like two steam trains colliding. Jess tried to get to his feet and managed it, though everything seemed wavy and blurred. Someone was helping him--Khalila. Thomas rushed to take his other side. No, don't, Jess tried to say but couldn't. He couldn't quite grasp what was happening now. Morgan was crouched in a heap near the doorway, covering her head as the two massive lions battled and tore at each other above her. He saw movement and realized more lions were coming, drawn to the fight.

  Thomas and Khalila half carried him toward the door. The battling lions thrashed and roared next to them, bits of metal flying off as claws shredded bronze skin, then a sharp snap as a cable was bitten through, the smell of spraying fluids, a metallic roar that was almost one of pain as one of the lions lurched unevenly, one leg useless.

  "Frauke," Jess said, and the wounded lion turned her head toward him. "Kill."

 

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