Assassin of Truths (Library Jumpers #3)

“If you need me, you know what to do.” She dove off my shoulder and flew into the darkness of the library.

Bastien placed his palm on the door and spoke a charm different from the one we used to enter the wizard havens. The panel slid open, and we walked onto thick grasses that buried our boots. The panel shut, and we crossed the field to dense woods. We followed a tight trail to a small village. The many tiny homes were low and crumbling.

As we walked down the muddy road, the villagers’ faces turned to watch. There were Mystik races I’d seen before and others that were new to me. We approached a man with a boar’s face and tusks sticking out at the corners of his mouth. His large biceps flexed as he slammed an ax into a thick log.

The man spotted us and charged in our direction, ax in his hand.

I ignited a globe, not knowing which one would appear. A white, frosty sphere balanced on my palm.

Okay. Don’t freak out. Big scary men fall harder, I thought, trying to convince myself.

I waited for him to get closer, planting my feet shoulder width apart and drawing my arm back, ready to launch the globe.





Chapter Twelve


Bastien placed his hand on my arm and lowered the globe. “He’s not a threat.”

The man dropped the ax and almost tackled Bastien in a hug.

“Ah, Renard, my dear friend.” The man clapped Bastien’s back. His eyes went to me, panting so hard the skin around his tusks waggled. “Who did you bring with you? Outsiders aren’t welcome.”

“You forget, I’m an outsider,” Bastien said, his tone light.

The man laughed. It was more of a roar, really. “That is not entirely true. More like a savior. We owe our lives to you.”

Bastien’s smile was bright. “I’m not owed a thing. Gianna, this is Enoon.” He rested his hand on my back. “And this is Gianna Bianchi McCabe and her guard, Demos.”

Enoon smiled, placed his hand on his chest, and bowed.

I leaned against Bastien. “What’s he doing?” I whispered.

“The Mystiks considered Gian their king. To them, you are like royalty.”

My great-grandfather. He had fought for the Mystiks’ rights.

“Not in all my days did I believe you would come,” Enoon said, straightening. “My father told me of this day, but I never thought it would be while I was alive. My life is yours. I am your servant.”

“Um.” My gaze went to Bastien then to Enoon. “No one needs to serve me. If there’s a fight, we stand together.”

He may have looked menacing, but his eyes were kind. “Such a young girl, but a brave heart.”

If he knew how terrified I was, he’d be disappointed. I didn’t know how to respond to him.

Bastien helped me out. “We need to find The Red,” he said.

“He’s here.” Enoon inclined his head over his shoulder, gesturing toward the town. “Made a camp just outside the village. Follow me. I’ll take you to him.”

We traveled down a narrow dirt road full of potholes and jagged rocks embedded in the ground. It snaked around mud-caked buildings with thatched roofs. They looked poorly made, or they’d been put up in haste. A bell rang somewhere, followed by a woman’s voice yelling out names. Somewhere from a road or two away came the clanking of metal against metal.

“How long has this village been here?” I asked, just as my foot landed in one of the potholes.

“Be careful, you’ll turn an ankle,” Enoon said. “Our village was destroyed by a horrible fire. We sent out distress calls, but no aid came. We lost everything. Many lives. This place is temporary until we can rebuild.”

Bastien’s foot slid across some pebbles, and he righted himself. “It was a beautiful village. The loss was devastating.”

Enoon patted Bastien on the back. “Bastien here saved us. Without supplies from Couve, our people would have starved.”

I gave Bastien a bright smile. “He’s definitely a saint.”

“A little too sure of himself for his own good,” Enoon teased. “But with a heart bigger than Throgward Canyon.”

Bastien gave me a side-glance. “She has no idea what Throgward is.”

Enoon nodded at a woman working in her garden. “Then I will assure her it is quite vast.”

The villagers stopped whatever they were doing to stare at us as we passed. But there weren’t many of them outside. Two children resembling Enoon followed beside us. The girl looked to be about ten and the boy maybe six, but they didn’t have tusks.

“She’s too thin to be a Sentinel,” the boy said.

The girl smiled up at Demos, a dreamy look on her face. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“You don’t stand a chance,” I told her. “He’s smitten with a bird girl.”

“I didn’t ask you,” she said and sniffed the air. “You smell.”

I must reek. I’d kill for a bath but doubted there was indoor plumbing here.

Enoon waved his hands at the kids. “Shoo. Off with you. Check on your mother. Make sure she doesn’t need anything.”

“Pa, do we have to?” the boy whined.

The girl gave him a stern look. “Of course we do. Get moving.” The two ran off, heading back the way they’d come.

“Is something wrong with your wife?” I asked.

Enoon’s face scrunched up in confusion. “What is this wife?”

“She means partner,” Bastien answered.

“Aye. She has the sickness.” Enoon kept his eyes in front of him. “Most of the village came down with the disease.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, wishing I could tell him I had the recipe for the cure. Nana had warned me that the curers in the covens might not have all the items needed to make it. And I didn’t want to give him false hope.

In a field just outside of the village was a large camp with rows of pod-like tents. The murmur of voices hung over pitched canopies. Smoke rose from somewhere in the center of them. As we neared, one of the guards, a buff Laniar with silver hair, turned and darted down a row of tents. I recognized the other guards from when they’d attacked Nick and me in one of the libraries. One was rust colored with horns, and the other was stocky with a partially bald head and bushy sideburns.

Enoon stopped at a line of small rocks stretching across the road. “We wait here until The Red invites us in.”

Bastien and I came up to stand on Enoon’s right side, and Demos on the left. “Why must we wait?”

“It’s the agreement we made. No entry without permission. He protects the village and we leave him and his band alone.”

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