A Hackwith - The Library of the Unwritten

Claire’s brow furrowed. “That does sound… eccentric. Even for him.”

“Highly. I always suspected it wasn’t just mere power he was hiding away in that thing. Perhaps a secret, a key, something he didn’t trust to keep on himself for some reason. Something to be kept far away from the realm. Tantalizing mystery, isn’t it?”

“You think everything is secrets and conspiracy, Andy.”

“That’s because everything is , pup. And you do know I dislike that nickname.”

Claire smiled. “Almost as much as I dislike being called ‘pup.’”

“Quite so,” Andras said with an odd tilt of fondness. “In any case, this codex, it stayed unnoticed on Earth for centuries. Then, out of the blue, Lucifer called his Arcanist and librarian to him—our predecessors—and ordered them to retrieve the book and replace it with a mundane replica.” The old demon’s lip curled with a strong distaste. Leto began to see where Claire might have gotten her opinion of the ruler of Hell. “Something must have spooked him.”

Leto found the whole conversation alarming, and unease finally began to work its way into the nervous tap of Claire’s fingers on the counter.

“Why wasn’t I made aware of any of this?” she asked.

“Why would you be? It’s a perfectly written book. Not one of your delicate unwritten things,” Andras said. “As I understand it, the book was retrieved during some mortal uprising. A fire made a convenient cover. Our agents replaced it with a harmless mundane copy in the chaos. It disappeared after that—who knows what our benevolent dictator did with it?”

“Not everything got recovered, though,” Leto said. When Andras frowned at him as if just remembering his presence, Leto nodded to the table.

“Well… yes. There might have been complications,” Andras said. “They replaced the book as it was… but humans say that precisely ten pages might have gone missing in the fire. We thought it was just the replica that was damaged.”

“Ten pages. Of a book made of Hell stuff. Did anyone bother to check the original before handing it over?”

Andras’s lips thinned. “The records don’t precisely say so.”

“And you’ve not pursued it, gone after these pages?”

Andras snorted. “I’m not daft. I proposed the idea decades ago once I ran across the discrepancy. But I was ordered not to. Forbidden. A decree from our great ruler himself. And no further investigation into the book was condoned. Whatever it is, whatever it was, Lucifer didn’t trust anyone looking into it.”

It didn’t make sense. Leto found himself chewing a hole in his lip as he tried to follow. “If it was so important, why would he risk…?”

Andras gave an elegant shrug. “The whole affair went down before my inglorious downfall. Long before I became Arcanist. I was still a duke then. It was all done rather hush-hush, and the court didn’t hear about it until much later. One of your predecessors was the one who retrieved it. If anyone has covered up a failure, it was him.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Leto saw Claire flinch. The color drained from her cheeks. “Predecessor… You mean Librarian Gregor.”

“No, no. More than a few back. This would have been”—Andras gave a dismissive wave at the whole idea of time—“the barbarian. Beard. Loud type. Drunk. Stuck around forever. What’s his name? I can’t keep your people straight.”

The tension in Claire’s shoulders eased by inches. It was the second time Leto noticed her strange aversion to her predecessor. “Bjorn? Bjorn the Bard. He had the longest tenure, spanning the Middle Ages. Two before Gregor.”

“Sounds about right. Your wing’s history in any case, not mine.”

Claire and Andras fell into warring scowls. Little as Leto knew, he had a sinking feeling that worse news was yet to come. It appeared the librarian agreed with him as she shook her head. “If it’s resurfaced, we can’t just leave a thing like that floating around.”

Andras watched Claire warily. “An order is an order, pup.”

“At the very least, we can report this latest appearance and reopen the investigation. Blood and ink, Andras. Angels are involved, for goodness’ sake. This isn’t time for politics.”

Andras shook his head. “It’s not wise. Not without more information to justify approaching the court.”

“Information that we can’t get until it’s sanctioned. Which it’s not,” Claire said flatly. “Information he doesn’t want the court to hear in the first place.”

“That is how Hell works.”

Claire crossed her arms. There was a distant tick-tick-tick of claws as ravens shifted in their cages. Leto could see a subtle tic in Andras’s bearded cheek as he met her stare.

Claire swept up the bag, snagging the scrap before Andras could protest. She turned on her heel and strode toward the doors. Andras gaped, first at Claire, then at Leto. Then he broke into a run after her. “Pup! Librarian! Claire! Stop this instant!”

“Come along, Leto,” Claire called, not slowing her pace before she raised her voice to a level that sent the ravens chattering and raced a chill down Leto’s spine. “LUCIFER.”

“Don’t be a fool!” Andras was faster than his gray hair indicated he should be and he bolted after her. Leto had to sprint to keep them in sight as they sped down the hall. If Claire was summoning him , then he wasn’t really sure he wanted to catch up.

“No, this is ridiculous. I won’t tolerate— BELIAL.”

“Claire—listen—”

“MORNINGSTAR. GET DOWN HERE.”

“Claire!”

“IBLIS. LORD OF—”

“Do you want to start a war?” Andras caught hold of Claire’s shoulders at the base of the stairs. He let go just as quickly under Claire’s withering glare. “You don’t want to do this, pup. We can’t tell him this has surfaced in the hands of an angel.”

Tension trembled through Claire’s jaw and her fingers clenched around the plastic bag. “You have one minute to tell me one good reason why. And without using ‘girl’ or ‘pup,’ or I’ll walk right out of here, Andras. I mean it.”

Leto came to a stop a step away. Andras jerked his hands away from Claire’s shoulders and raked a hand through his striped hair. “Consider the facts, Claire. Somehow, a book of Hell resurfaced after all this time and found its way into Heaven’s hands. They very likely don’t know what they have, but they sent nothing less than Ramiel after it. Thunder of God, a bloody Watcher. Fallen or not, unforgiven or not, he’s no errand boy. Now think it through. What will happen if you report this to the court?”

Claire sniffed. “They’ll send us after it, obviously. Just as they did before. And this time I will do a proper job.”

“They sent the Library after it when it was merely an embarrassing personal secret of Lucifer’s, held by humans. You know your history, Librarian. What happens when you scare powerful people who have armies? What does the court of Hell do when Heaven moves against them?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Color fled Claire’s cheeks. “This is a book. They wouldn’t—”

“We’ve gone to war over less. I was there .” Andras said the word “there” in a way that conjured yawning voids and loss. Leto shuddered.

Claire threw up her hands. “That’s unnecessary. This is a book. Lucifer knows we could much more effectively—”

“He might, but the court wouldn’t. You know their opinion of the Library, run by a mere human and a washed-up demon?” Andras’s tone turned brittle and bitter. “We’re pawns, squatters on top of desirable treasures. They wouldn’t just not trust us—they’d take the opportunity to prove us incompetent, to pillage the Library.”