A Hackwith - The Library of the Unwritten

“We’ll never escape if we get stopped for brandishing weapons.”

“There’s no one around. Besides, I’m not dying without getting to shoot something with this bloody gun,” Hero said.

“The Hellhounds will have no interest in books,” Claire pointed out. “You should be thrilled. You might get a chance to bob off during the carnage.”

“Until Brevity decides to IWL me, yes. And when that time comes, I’d rather not suffer the tedium of heartbroken recriminations that I abandoned you.”

“As if you know anything about heartbreak,” Claire muttered.

“You have no idea.”

Hero said it lightly, and it almost, but not quite, masked the jagged edge to his voice. She glanced up, and Hero cast her a measured look out of the corner of his eye. They walked down another alley before the silence got too much. “Fine. I’ll bite. For instance?”

Hero seemed to search for words before diverting. “I know that it takes a rare heart to break and leave behind such a sharp, cutting edge.”

Claire found herself with no response to that. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as they followed Andras down another alley. “It doesn’t matter, you know.”

“What?” Hero met her eyes again.

“Being a villain. It doesn’t matter, out here.” In the fading light, Hero’s eyes were dark, the green of old earth. Distant lands she’d never see. Claire turned away to keep from being distracted. “Don’t get me wrong—I should have damn well known. But it doesn’t matter. You saw the damsels. It doesn’t matter what you’re made to be, only what you do.”

Hero’s step faltered to match hers. “For one who calls me ‘book’ when she’s cranky, you’re affording me an uncharacteristic amount of humanity.”

Claire snorted. “Well. Considering my own story may be coming to an end quite soon… I can afford to be a little flexible.”

“This is it,” Andras announced as they came to a stop just short of the arch of the outer wall. It was a smaller entrance than the grand bridge they’d crossed entering the city, more just a door in the sandstone wall, with a narrow stone bridge spanning the grassy moat. Andras stepped across the threshold first, craning his neck in both directions before giving a nod.

Claire took a deep breath. “Ready to run?”

Hero grimaced. “This is truly the safest course of action?”

“Fairly sure it’s entirely dangerous and foolhardy, actually.”

“Then yes, I am very ready to run.”

Claire stepped through the door. As soon as they were past the shadow of the arch, there was a palpable snapping sound of the ward coming up. The air at her back hissed, and an unpleasant feeling of static shock sizzled at the hairs on her neck. There was no going back that way.

Howls shattered the quiet. Impact thrummed the stones beneath their feet. Claire had thought it impossible, but it was even louder outside the wards. Her heart vibrated in her chest with the earth-deep, bone-deep noise. Claire gripped Hero’s shoulder, and they burst into a sprint for the bridge.

Shadows lunged together on the other end, and the Hellhounds broke into the twilight. Fast, so fast. Dark and large as lorries, two of the beasts turned, locking on to Claire with their blood-jeweled eyes. They charged.

Claire didn’t have time to react. She didn’t have time to slow down. She didn’t even have time to flinch. The leading Hound leapt. She and Hero hit the ground in a pile. Hero reflexively threw an arm over her head, as if that would stop a creature with teeth like long swords. Fool book.

Something harsh struck stone. Then something large struck something harsh. It sounded like a car crash.

Then a silence that thrummed the stones.

When the ground stopped shaking, Claire opened her eyes to stare into Hero’s bewildered face. They untangled themselves. Adrenaline turned her knees to jelly and she leaned on Hero as she stood.

Hellhounds stalked the bridge, just spare meters from where Claire and Hero stood. Barreling sledges of fur threw themselves in their direction; muscle and teeth hit the air with a jarring impact that was hard enough to make even Claire’s teeth hurt. She shuddered again until she realized what held them.

In the middle of the bridge, imposed between them and the Hellhounds, was an angel clad in fire and fury.

Uriel’s sword had sunk deep into the stone of the bridge, and Uriel stood anchored over it. A shimmering, barely visible wall sprang from the blade. She verified the wall was holding before turning her full attention to Hero and Claire.

Uriel advanced on them. Claire stumbled back. She spun toward the gates, then stopped.

Andras stood, waiting for them with his hands clasped calmly in front of him. Ramiel stood at his side, making a strange pair. Ramiel was much as he’d been in Valhalla, brooding and worn at the edges. A workman’s build in a shabby gray coat that trailed dark feathers at his back. The angel regarded her with pitying eyes, but Claire saved her gaze for Andras.

“This was all your plan?” Her voice was dull.

“I did say to stay in the city. I begged you to avoid this.” Andras’s words might have been sad, but he stood straight, easy with the angel at his side. “It was the only way, pup.”

“The only way to achieve what, exactly?” Hero stiffened next to her, and Claire could feel Uriel advancing on their backs. An approaching storm.

“To return things to how they ought to be.”

Claire’s thoughts rabbited in circles. Andras had been a duke, royalty in Hell’s court once. But he’d been thrown out, long ago. He’d… been tired, he’d said. Claire wasn’t stupid; she’d always known Andras, like all demons, was dangerous. But he’d also been kind. Kind enough to pick her up off the floor after Beatrice left, after Gregor… after Claire had been left alone. She hadn’t been alone, because Andras had been there. She’d clung to that. She knew he was cruel, but to other people. He was kind to her and that was supposed to mark the difference.

It appeared to be the day for being proved foolish.

“You need the codex,” she finally said.

“I need the Library,” Andras corrected. “Each one of those books is a little battery, a bite of souls locked up in a book. Even an archdemon would do much to taste that. Alone they’re nothing, minor bribes, but together…they’re leverage on the court, and leverage is just what I need. There are demons that could be made to see things my way for a nice, steady supply of dreams. The remaining pages of the codex are powerful, an excellent weapon to wield. But the Library, that’s where the opportunity lies. The Library is valuable. It was never going to stay isolated. You have to see that.”

The realization came upon Claire like a punch to the gut. “You would… use the books as a bartering device? The Library isn’t currency!”

“And the codex pages were not a matter for the Library,” Andras said. “But here we are.”

“The codex belongs to Heaven,” Rami interjected, brow furrowed as he looked with obvious suspicion at the demon. “You agreed to deliver it. In exchange for…”

“In exchange for me,” Claire surmised. A deadweight had developed in her chest. It wasn’t surprise, or even betrayal. It felt too inevitable for that. “Are you so certain you can walk in and take it? I am not the only protector the Library has.”

“That matters little with the power of the codex. I won’t kill you, pup. It’s why I’d hoped you’d stay—I may be a demon, but I’ve lost the stomach for it. Your charms have grown on me.” Andras’s wistful smile made Claire’s hand bunch into a fist at her side. “Your assistant’s haven’t. She will be little challenge for those that follow me.”