“Back in Branford. I used to go all the time with Ka—”
He stopped, unable to mention Kale’s name or unsure if he should. Not mentioning Kale felt as if we were forgetting him. He’d lived. He was here. And he was taken away from us too soon.
“Kale always loved puzzles, didn’t he?” I smiled at the memory of him trying to solve a crossword in Pop’s Sunday paper.
Demos smiled, one that said he appreciated my comment. “That he did. I had to cheat to beat him…on occasion.”
A smirk formed on Bastien’s lips. “Only on occasion?”
“Okay, it might have been more than that.” Amusement sounded in Demos’s voice.
Bastien paced the floor in front of a display case. “Where are Doylis and my guards? They should have beaten us here. I better contact them. Excuse me.” He pulled out his window rod and spoke Doylis’s name.
I rested my back against the wall, wondering how much longer my legs could hold me up. With all the adrenaline rushing through my body earlier, I hadn’t noticed the pain from where I’d bumped around in the flood.
Demos leaned against the wall beside me. “Good thing the wall doesn’t need us to hold it up.”
I chuckled, turning my head to face him. “Good thing. So how are you doing?”
“Better than you, I’m certain.” He winked. “It really rots about Nick. It’s hard to lose a friend.”
“Yeah, it does, and it is.” I flicked my gaze in Bastien’s direction. “He doesn’t look happy.”
Bastien snapped the window rod closed.
I pushed off the wall. “What’s wrong?”
“They’ve been detained,” he said. “We better go on without them.”
“Well, I guess we should call our escort then,” I said and raised my arm and blew on the silver butterfly embedded in my wrist. It pulled from my skin and flew across the room. I hadn’t really looked at the library until then. It was a beautiful room covered in polished, dark wood with gold-leaf accents and a domed ceiling made up of murals and decorated with elaborate filigree and white frames. The two-story, balconied-bookcases would make a great place to hide for an ambush.
“I’m going to find the loo,” Demos said, crossing the room with confident, measured steps. “Don’t leave without me.”
When he was gone, Bastien came to my side and took my hand in his. “How are you faring?”
“I’ve been better.”
He squeezed my hand. “This will pass.”
“How are you doing?”
“Better now that you’re not being tossed in a raging flood. Danger seems to find you at every turn.”
I tilted my head to look at him. “Please never leave me.”
A worried smile spread across his lips. “You couldn’t chase me away.”
My heart loosened as if it had been bound tight with hurt and fear.
He wrapped his arms around me and kept me in his embrace for a long while. His chest rising and falling against my cheek with each of his breaths was like a lullaby—soothing and relaxing. If I weren’t standing, I’d probably fall asleep. I inhaled, his scent filling my nose. He had always smelled like fresh laundry and a hint of his cologne, but not now. There was no cologne, and he smelled of the herby soap that we all had to use in Greyhill.
“Now, isn’t this sweet. All this love stuff makes me miss my new girlfriend.” Demos leaned against one of the many display cases that held antique books as he studied his hands. “I wonder if she misses me.”
“Do you mean Shyna?” I asked.
A grin pushed up his cheeks. “Yes. Shyna. Such a pretty name for a pretty bird.”
Bastien exaggerated an eye roll at me; he wasn’t hiding it from Demos.
Demos ignored the gesture. “So who does the tracer summon?”
“Me.” Aetnae’s tiny voice startled us.
“A book faery?” Demos pushed himself off the display case.
She landed on my shoulder and grabbed my wet hair. “Eww, what happened to you?” She wiped her hands on her skirt. “You smell rancid.”
“Nice to see you, too.” I frowned down at my wet, muddy clothes. “I could use a bath.”
“Or a fire hose.” Demos laughed.
Aetnae gave Demos a disapproving look before taking off from my shoulder. “We need to use the gateway book.”
Demos turned to us and shrugged. “I thought it was funny.”
Bastien shook his head at him. “I’m not certain this is the proper time for fooling around.”
“I think it’s the perfect time. It lightens the mood.” I smiled at Demos.
Bastien called for the gateway book. When it didn’t show up, he went off looking for it, and Aetnae zipped along with him.
I spun around, scanning all the beautiful woodwork and the many colored spines of books.
“What are you doing?” Demos’s eyes followed me.
“There never seems to be enough time to explore the libraries.”
Demos’s eyebrow rose. “Did you hit your head?”
“I’m serious.” I sighed. “We have this gift to transport ourselves to any library anywhere in the world. It’s amazing, but we never get to enjoy it, to just sit in one and read books written ages ago.”
“There was a time we could do that,” he said. “Perhaps we’ll be able to do it again.”
When Bastien and Aetnae returned, we jumped to Chetham’s Library in Manchester, England. Like a dark blanket around me, the gateway was chilly, and I shivered. My boots slid across the floor when I landed.
“This way.” Aetnae zigzagged in the air as she led us down a small aisle.
On one side, books on the shelves were behind small, chained fences. The other side had dark bookcases that stood single file behind gates resembling saloon doors. Large wooden beams crisscrossed the white vaulted ceiling. It was like walking in history. The floorboards were old, the books fading with age. I wanted more time to be there. More time to explore and marvel at all the details that were hidden to first glances.
“You’re taking us to Barmhilde,” Bastien said, pulling my attention from the book stacks.
“I am,” she answered and hovered in front of a dark wood paneled wall. “This library is nearly four hundred years old, and was one of the first to hide Mystiks from human persecution. Not many from the wizard havens come here. They’re afraid of the creatures living in the coven. Call them heathens. Uncivilized without belief in a god. So I’ve heard. But in reality, they’re just like us, but some have scary exteriors.”
“That’s sad,” I said.
“It is,” Bastien said. “Many of my friends are here. Some of the nicest beings you’ll meet.” His eyes slid to Demos. “There’s no going back for you. The moment you sided with Gia, you became a fugitive like me, like her, and like everyone behind this panel.”
“I’m aware of the cost.” Demos nodded in my direction. “Without her, there is no hope. Arik will come around. He’ll join us.”
I doubted that.
Aetnae whistled and flew to my shoulder.
“What was that for?” I craned my neck to see her. Before she could answer me, the silver tracer flitted to me, landed on my wrist, and seeped back into my skin.