Library of Absolution

by Jennifer Derrick

  "Will you be here tomorrow?" she asked.

  "Of course. Why would you even ask that?"

  "It was my nightmare. I dreamed you were gone."

  "Where'd I go?" Alarick asked. "I hope it was somewhere tropical and with no Ministry," he added in an attempt at levity.

  "You died. The Ministry came and you died in the fight. I lived, but I was so lost without you. So cold," she said, shivering in his arms.

  They'd reached her room, and Alarick gently laid her on the high-backed sofa she was using for a bed. She'd crafted a nest using her cloak and what appeared to be a tablecloth she'd scavenged from somewhere. He tucked her cloak around her to stop the shivering and sat down on the edge of the sofa.

  "Were you somewhere cold?" he asked. "Had we gone home, and it was snowy at the Keep?"

  She shook her head. "No, we were here but it was just so cold without you. So bleak. So… empty."

  "Well, I won't lie and promise that the Ministry won't kill me one day. I'm sure to be high on their list, especially after what I did in London. But I don't think it will be tomorrow. I think we'll both be here tomorrow and likely the day after that, too. It was just a dream. You've been working too hard and nightmares thrive when your body is too depleted to resist them."

  Sitting up, Elissa reached for his hands and then ran her hands up his arms until she reached his face. She traced the planes of his face again, as if to assure herself he was real.

  "Would it help if I stay here until you fall asleep?" he asked.

  "It might," she said, lying back on the sofa, which looked far too antique and formal to be at all comfortable.

  She pulled her cloak around her again and rested her head on the pillow made from the table linen. Her hand reached for his and he took it, cradling it in both of his as he sat down on the floor next to the sofa, pulling his knees to his chest.

  "I don't have a book, but Master Hale forced me to memorize some of Shakespeare's sonnets. Would it help if I recited a few?"

  "You have such a lovely voice. You could read a government charter and make it interesting," she said, yawning hugely.

  "Strange. Most people tell me my voice is too stuffy, too intimidating."

  "Well, they probably aren't women," she said as her eyes closed.

  Alarick dug deep into his memory. One sonnet seemed more fitting than the rest.

  "Sonnet number one-hundred sixteen," Alarick began, staring at the floor between his knees to aid his concentration.

  Let me not to the marriage of true minds

  Admit impediments. Love is not love

  Which alters when it alteration finds,

  Or bends with the remover to remove.

  O no! It is an ever-fixed mark

  That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

  It is the star to every wand'ring bark,

  Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

  Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

  Within his bending sickle's compass come;

  Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

  But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

  If this be error and upon me prov'd,

  I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.

  * * *

  Elissa's hand went slack in his and he looked up. Her eyes were closed, lips parted, and her breath was slow and regular. Relief coursed through him. She needed rest. The bruises under her eyes grew darker day by day, her skin paler. Alarick was certain he fared no better. They'd need to leave soon simply to preserve their health.

  He wasn't looking forward to it, though. The forced intimacy of laboring together had brought him much joy. It had given him a chance to enjoy Elissa's company without interruption and without the awkwardness of forced small talk. While they worked, conversation flowed naturally. Easily. They swapped childhood memories and silly stories without embarrassment.

  It was a closeness he knew would evaporate once they returned to the Keep where his responsibilities would take him away from her for large parts of the day. And she would have her own interests, as well. In addition to her work, she'd want to spend time with Candace and Margaret, joining in some of the group activities. She no longer needed his daily help with her work and there was little he had left to teach her. Her new skills were part of her now.

  Without a reason to spend time together, they'd drift apart, Alarick knew. Certainly, they would still be friends, but his chance at anything more would fade. She was so attractive and youthful. Spirited in a way he could never be. Any of the men at the Keep would be a better fit for her. It was only a matter of time before she realized that.

  Or before the young men noticed her and launched a competition for her hand. Alarick could never win such a competition. He'd lost once before to more attractive, spirited suitors. There was no reason to think he would win now, especially since he was considerably older than his rivals this time.

  He sighed and stood, carefully placing Elissa's hand on her breast. Hadn't she said, though, that she thought of them as a team? The thought gave him some hope, but he also knew that when they no longer had work to do, their teamwork would fade. No, he was resigned to them going their separate ways. Still… If all he had to treasure was one kiss, well, it was more than he'd ever hoped for.

  Back in the cramped office on the sofa that was too small for his long frame, he stared into the darkness and wished for Fate to smile on him just once.

  "Let her love me," he whispered to the darkness.

  Fate, being a cruel bitch, was unkind. Shouting woke Alarick before first light the next morning. He sat up quickly on the sofa and pulled on his coat. As he did so, thundering footsteps echoed down the hall, coming closer to his room. Before he could open the door, someone was pounding on it.

  "Ministry, Ministry," a deep voice shouted.

  "Son of a bitch," Alarick said, yanking open the door and charging into the hall.

  He grabbed the closest man's upper arm.

  "How long?" he demanded.

  "Twenty minutes out. Possibly less."

  "Where's Marius?" Alarick asked.

  "Main reading room," said the man as he tore off to rouse the others.

  Alarick ran in the opposite direction, toward the reading room. As promised, Marius was there with his top men.

  "Alarick," he said, as Alarick stormed into the room. "Get Elissa and peregrinate out of here."

  "No. I fight with you," Alarick said.

  "You can't leave Elissa here!" Marius said. "If they capture her…" he didn't have to finish that sentence.

  "I'm not leaving you," Alarick said. "I'll get her home and be back in a moment."

  "It might exhaust you too much," Marius warned.

  "I'll handle it," Alarick said, as he dashed out of the room to Elissa's room.

  Elissa was already awake and waiting when he reached her room.

  "Come on," he said, taking her arm. "Do you have everything?"

  "Do we have time to get the books I was working on?"

  Alarick rolled his eyes, but tamped down the frustration. "How many, and are they all on your desk?"

  "Four, and yes."

  "Wait here," he instructed.

  Running faster than he ever had in his life, he ran for the small room where they'd worked together for so many weeks. He snatched up the four books and ran back to the office, elbowing through knots of Marius' men as they thundered through the halls, readying for the coming slaughter.

  Alarick took Elissa's arm again and without further argument, flicked his wand toward his feet and peregrinated her back to the library at the Keep. Margaret was already there, hard at work. Her eyebrows shot up at the appearance of both of them so early in the day.

  "Are you finished then?" she asked.

  Alarick shook his head. "Ministry. I'm going back. I just needed to get Elissa to safety, first."

  "What?" Elissa shouted. "You can't go back!"

  "I have to. I can't leave Ma
rius."

  "He has his men to fight with him. Or with the books safe here, they can just run for it. They don't have to protect the library."

  "I doubt the Ministry will let them run for it. Knowing their tactics, the place is already completely surrounded and has been for a couple of days. We just didn't have enough men stationed far enough away to know it until they sprang the trap. Marius' only chance is to fight his way out. I have to help him. I'm a stronger wizard than any of his men. Perhaps I can make the difference."

  "Or you'll be killed," she said, grabbing blindly for his arm.

  Tears were streaming down her face now. Margaret pulled her back, but Alarick stepped forward and rested his hand on her shoulder. He leaned down to whisper in her ear.

  "It means everything to me that you're crying for me," he whispered. "If I die, I'll take that image with me when I go and rest easier knowing that someone cared enough to cry. That's a better epitaph than I deserve."

  "But it leaves me here with nothing," Elissa cried.

  He pressed his cheek to hers and then lightly kissed her cheek, her forehead, and finally her lips. She moved to throw her arms around him, but he stepped quickly back. If she held him he'd stay there in her embrace forever, Marius be damned.

  Margaret met his eyes. He tilted his head in Elissa's direction. Margaret nodded at the silent question he asked of her.

  "Yes," her nod said. "If you don't return, I'll take care of Elissa."

  Alarick mouthed, "Thank you," to Margaret, took one last look at Elissa's tear-streaked face and departed.

  The Université was eerily quiet when he returned to the main reading room. Looking out the windows showed the reason. Marius' men had taken up positions all around the library and were now simply waiting. Waiting to see what the Ministry would do.

  Alarick found Marius just inside the front doors with two of his top men.

  "Where do you want me?" Alarick asked.

  "The roof," Marius said without hesitation. "Michael here can show you the way. From up there, you should be able to cast spells in any direction. Take out as many as you can."

  Michael turned and Alarick moved to follow him, but Marius laid a hand on his arm.

  "I don't have to tell you to watch yourself. Their guns aren't terribly accurate at long range, but they're accurate enough. And don't hesitate to kill. This isn't about hurting them. We need them dead."

  "Are you planning to get out?" Alarick asked. "Can I clear a path for you?"

  "I've told you how we fight, Alarick. It's them or us. We don't retreat. No one here has a great deal to live for. Our lives are dedicated to killing the Ministry. As long as there are any Ministry around us, we'll keep fighting until the last one of us is dead."

  "But—" Alarick began, wanting to tell him that he had to retreat, to live to fight another day, that a single battle wasn't worth it.

  "No," Marius said. "We're dead men walking as it is. Better to go out this way than some other way. Which reminds me… If you see any of us captured, kill us. Don't let the Ministry take any of us away from here. We're all agreed that a quick death at the hand of a friend is preferable to any that the Ministry might arrange for us."

  Alarick nodded, his throat tight. "All right," he finally said.

  "And if it all goes sideways, which it probably will, you are to peregrinate your ass to safety. Someone has to look after our Book Mesmer. That is a non-negotiable order. No matter what happens, you are not to get killed. Understand?"

  Alarick nodded.

  "Good," Marius said. "Now get up there and kill some Ministry."

  The friends embraced, and Alarick followed Michael through the library to a set of stairs in the back. They climbed up to the roof and Alarick surveyed the campus.

  This was going to be a disaster.

  The library occupied the center of campus, ringed by buildings that provided perfect cover for the invaders. There were no clear paths of retreat, even were Marius inclined to use them. The only exits ran past buildings, and those buildings were sure to be guarded by Ministry. Worse, even if anyone escaped the campus, the Université was in the middle of the city where the streets likely teemed with more Ministry. The forest and easy cover was too far away.

  Marius had so few men; he'd had no choice but to position all of them close to the library. None of his men bided in nearby buildings to aid an escape. Even if they had, their numbers were insufficient to matter in the face of a large invasion force. And a force was exactly what they were facing.

  Alarick could see them coming now. He turned a full circle and saw Ministry coming from every direction, taking up positions in and around the surrounding buildings. Hundreds of them, if not thousands. Marius' band of a hundred or so men was hopelessly outnumbered, outgunned, and had nowhere to go.

  Alarick, ready to begin firing off spells, turned to Michael. "What kind of skills do you possess?" he asked him. "Can we work back to back up here, covering at least two directions at once?"

  "We can try, sir," said Michael. "But I've never mastered the killing spell, or even some of the most crippling ones. My gifts lie with machinery."

  "Would that include guns?" Alarick asked.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Well, then, you direct whatever you can at disabling their weaponry, especially the heavy canon they're rolling out there, there, and there," Alarick said, pointing at the three corners of the quadrangle where heavy artillery was being rolled into place. "From there, take out as many guns as you can. I'll take care of their owners."

  "You think like Marius, sir, and he's the best tactician I know."

  "That's quite the compliment, Michael. Thank you. Now, I do believe it's time to go to work."

  Below them, Marius' crew had begun slinging spells as fast as they could, hoping to disrupt the Ministry's forces before they could become too entrenched. It wasn't helping. For every soldier that went down, it seemed like two more soldiers took his place.

  Michael was indeed very gifted with machinery. Alarick watched as gun after gun jammed. The cannons were useless, their firing mechanisms melted by Michael's spells. And yet, as fast as Michael worked, more gunners took up positions and opened fire. It didn't help that he had to keep ducking behind the parapets to keep from getting his own head blown off. The boy didn't have a knack for defensive magic. Alarick tried to cast some defensive shields his way, but he had his own problems and any assistance he could give was minimal.

  Alarick cast killing spells as fast as he could. He was whirling so fast, red light jetting from his wand, that he looked like a Catherine wheel on the rooftop. Unfortunately, there was no way to conceal himself as the killing spell required a line of sight to its target. To protect himself, he alternated between killing and casting a defensive shield. Cast. Defend. Cast. Defend. It was exhausting, and he was sweating, but he kept going, taking down Ministry with deadly accuracy.

  He tried to keep an eye on Marius, who had left the protection of the library's front facade and entered the melee. The soldiers whose guns Michael had disabled didn't retreat. Instead, they waded into Marius' men, engaging them in close combat with swords and knives.

  Marius' men had a slight advantage in that their wands and spell casting didn't require them to be on top of their attackers in order to defend and fight back, but it wasn't much of an advantage over the sheer numbers of Ministry. Heedless of their own safety and thoroughly expendable, the front lines of Ministry simply rushed Marius' men and did as much damage as they could before succumbing to whatever spells Marius' men managed to inflict. The ones who came behind found the wizards weakened, injured, and sometimes wand-less. It was easy cleanup for them at that point. Hack. Slash. Done.

  Alarick kept his focus on what he could do to help, not the growing horror unfolding below him. Or at his back. There was a volley of gunshots and Alarick heard a thump behind him. He knew Michael had fallen.

  Unable to take his eyes off his own targets, he called, "Michael! Michael!"

  T
here was no answer. Michael was either dead or too injured to respond.

  Alarick had no time to investigate because it was then he noticed two of Marius' men, still alive but bleeding badly from head wounds, being dragged toward a nearby building by a group of Ministry. The wounds were too severe. Even if Alarick killed their captors, the men stood no chance of escape.

  With only the slightest thought spared for the fact he was killing friends, he screamed "Exstinguo," and pointed his wand at the two men and their captors. Engulfed by red light, the group dropped to the ground, dead. Alarick had no time to mourn, however.

  The Ministry had figured out that their greatest antagonists were on the roof. They'd already taken Michael, now they targeted Alarick. He was spending more and more time cowering behind his shields and ducking under the parapets. To keep the soldiers guessing, he would fire off a few spells and then belly crawl to a new place on the roof where he would pop up and cast again.

  At one point when he popped up, he saw Marius being dragged away from the library by Ministry. At such a distance, Alarick couldn't tell if he was alive or dead. Frozen in horror, a bullet grazed Alarick's shoulder before he could react.

  He dropped below the parapet for a second to let the volley of gunfire pass overhead. When the Ministry paused to reload, he sprang up and quickly sighted Marius again. Marius' men were desperately trying to free their leader, but it was all to no avail. From what Alarick could see, those were the only men remaining of Marius' entire posse, and Ministry gunfire and swords were quickly cutting them down.

  There was only one choice. Alarick raised his wand and screamed, "Exstinguo" one more time. The only comfort he could take was that he wasn't certain whether he'd actually killed Marius, or if he was dead before Alarick fired off the spell. Either way, Alarick knew he'd done what Marius wanted, even as the grief ripped through him like a lightning bolt.

  Before he could regain his composure, Marius' remaining men went down in a haze of bullets. The Ministry, now unhindered, zoomed as one for the library. Alarick could already hear their boots clomping up the stairs toward his position. There was only time to check on Michael before he left.