A Hackwith - The Library of the Unwritten

“What exactly are you seeing?” Rami asked hesitantly. Saving souls didn’t mean they necessarily came back intact either.

“Old dude, kinda looks like a hipster? He’s got glowing creepy eyes and a suit and… striped hair? Like a tiger. Who does that?” Leto froze. “He’s… familiar. Why do I know him?”

A demon with tiger-striped hair and a cold light in his eyes. No, Andras didn’t belong in the mortal world. Not in the memory of a tragic, senseless death. It was wrong, just wrong. Rami felt a chill on his neck. “Did you see him here… before? The first time around?”

Leto clenched the pills in his fist before nodding, eyes still locked on the corner.

Rami scrutinized the corner of the room, but whatever Andras had done once upon a time, he was not there now. If the demon had something to do with Leto’s human death… he’d been planning something longer than anyone expected. Worse, he’d involved the mortal world and unaware souls like Leto to do it. It crossed an unconscionable line, one that signaled larger ambitions than just Hell. Alarm built in his chest, and Rami was eager to be out of the memory. “Let us leave, Leto.”

“That’s not my name….” The boy frowned. “He said—he said he could make it all go away. Take me someplace better. And then it hurt, so much. He lied. What about you? Are you really helping?”

“I can only try.” Rami had to answer honestly. The room felt darker, as if the shadows were folding in on themselves. The memory was unraveling, and they couldn’t be caught inside it. “This memory… I tried to catch you sooner, but this was all that was left. We need to get you out of here to have a chance.”

Leto’s eyes reluctantly drifted away from the corner of the room and back toward Rami. He considered. “What about the others?”

“The… You mean the librarian?”

“Yes.” Leto was already beginning to fade.

“Just… take my hand, and we can talk.”

Leto considered the blue tablets in front of him. “You know, it didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. Dying.” He slid off the bed and turned toward Rami.

Rami let out a breath as Leto took his hand. “It’s not meant to. The pain in death isn’t the dying. It’s the wounds we leave in our wake.”

He cast one wary eye back to the empty corner where Andras had once been, then swept them toward Heaven.

RAMI DIDN’T LET GO of Leto’s hand until they safely set down in Purgatory. He brought him in far from the processing desk and the Gates, wanting to let the boy fully regain himself before overwhelming him with the bureaucracy that was Heaven.

Rami felt a rush of relief as he looked at the teenager. Leto had color in his cheeks, an alert interest in his eyes that said he was centered and aware. It had been close—rescuing a ravaged soul was always a delicate process—but he was whole and stable.

They stood a little apart from the meandering mass of souls that shuffled by them as Rami took stock. Leto’s eyes focused on the dazed dead waiting in a tidy, if unwieldy, line. This far away from the desk, the quiet was eerie. The dead didn’t have much need for small talk, so the limitless space was filled only with the shuffle of feet.

When Leto’s eyes drifted back, Rami felt the question. “You remember now?”

“Yes, I think so.” Leto ran a hand through his hair absently before touching his rounded ears with a jerk. “If this isn’t Earth, why aren’t my ears—”

“You are purified.” Rami saw Leto’s incredulous look, and he waved a hand. “I know, stilted term. Heaven loves them. You were never wrong to begin with. But it means you’re not sentenced to be a demon anymore. An act of sacrifice can do that. You’ve remembered and forgiven yourself for what you did when you were alive.”

“I didn’t do it to be forgiven.” Leto shook his head. “What I did—”

“Forgiven doesn’t mean no regret. We’ll always regret the wrongs we’ve done. It just means you aren’t punishing yourself for it.”

Leto folded his arms. His morose look was surprising, given the circumstances. Most forgiven souls couldn’t race to the Gates fast enough. Rami tried again. “That means you don’t have to go back to Hell.”

Leto’s eyes widened. “Oh no, you have to take me back. We have to go to the Library immediately.”

Rami frowned. Perhaps there had been some damage after all, some touch of insanity. He touched Leto’s shoulder and willed calm into the boy. Leto’s shoulders drooped, and Rami began guiding him through the crowd. He skipped the line of waiting mortals entirely—surely even Heaven would understand some line cutting, given the circumstances. “You really don’t mean that.”

Despite all reason, Leto persisted. “I do. And I think you’re going to take me.”

“I think you are misinformed.”

“No. You came after me after a crocodile creature… god… monster-thing tore up my soul. Somehow, I don’t think you do that for everyone. Why me?”

Rami furrowed his brow. “It was a brave thing you did, there. Even if you’re misguided about what side you’re on. You didn’t deserve to disappear.”

“Maybe, maybe not. I think it’s because you wanted something. I’ll be honest—I’m not helping you do anything to hurt the Library. But”—Leto looked cagey, and proud of himself for it—“if you get me back to the Library, maybe the librarian will listen to you.”

Rami let go of Leto’s shoulder. His touch had made him calm and obedient but obviously hadn’t dissuaded him from his loyalties. Rami crossed his arms. “You’re awfully shrewd for a purified soul.”

Leto grinned. “Turns out you can learn a lot of things in a library.”

“And willful.”

“I think I was always that,” Leto said. “I just forgot for a while.”

Rami snorted and considered the offer. Uriel had ordered him to find a path into Hell. Even if Uriel’s orders mattered little to Ramiel now, it was no major concession to agree to go back. He wanted to see what had become of the librarian. But it would not be safe; he had intended to leave the boy at the Gates. The fact remained that Leto was a purified soul now. Bringing him back to Hell risked condemning him all over again.

It was a risk that didn’t sit well with him. “You won’t be able to touch anything or anyone there. One touch, you risk your soul being corrupted again, reverting to your original judgment.”

Leto’s eyes fished toward the distant Gates and back. “I understand.”

Rami wasn’t confident that he did. “You won’t be able to help them.”

“But you can,” Leto said.

Rami shook his head. “That’s not why I would—”

“You help people. That’s what you told me. The Library is under attack by a dude who wants to ruin everything. Aren’t demons, like, your natural enemy or something?”

“I’m not a part of Hell or the Library.”

“Are you part of Heaven, then?”

Guilt settled in Rami’s stomach like a stone. “Not precisely.”

“And do you think Claire is working for evil?”

“She’s Hell’s lib—”

“That’s her title. Is she evil? Is what she’s trying to do evil?” Leto insisted.

Rami was not accustomed to moral debate with mortals. He ground his teeth. “No. Not as far as I know.”

“Did she try to do anything to harm Heaven? Even when your partner tried to kill her?”

Rami sighed. Uriel really wasn’t giving the best impressions of Heaven. “You heard about that.”

“For an angel, that didn’t seem very nice.”

“There were—it wasn’t—it’s not as if—” Rami fell silent. There was no defending Uriel’s lust for revenge. Hadn’t Rami already come to that conclusion? Why did he seek to defend Heaven, after all this time?