‘That sounds about right,’ I said. ‘Because Grandpa Smedry is there right now.’
‘How would you know something like that?’
I tapped my Lenses.
‘They wouldn’t work at such a distance.’
‘They did. I just talked to him. He’s there, Bastille.’ And . . . he thinks my father is too.
That gave me a twist in my stomach. I’d grown up assuming that both of my parents were dead. Now I was beginning to think that both were actually alive. My mother was a Librarian and worked for the wrong side. I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to know what my father was like.
No. That’s wrong. I really wanted to know what my father was like. I was just afraid of it at the same time.
I glanced back at Bastille.
‘You’re sure he’s there?’ she asked.
I nodded.
‘Shattering Glass,’ she muttered. ‘Last time we tried something like this, you almost got killed, your grandfather got tortured and I lost my sword. Do we really want to go through that again?
‘What if he’s in trouble?’
‘He’s always in trouble,’ Bastille said.
We fell silent. Then, both of us turned and rushed back to the cockpit.
3
I’d like to make something clear. I have been unfair to you. That is to be expected, liar that I am.
In the first book of this series, I made some sweeping generalizations about librarians, many of which are not completely true.
I need to come clean. There are several kinds of librarians. There are the ones that I talked about in my last book – the Librarians, with a capital L. We also call them the Librarians of Biblioden, or the Scrivener’s librarians. Most of what I said about that particular group is, indeed, factual.
However, I didn’t take the time to explain that they’re not the only kind of librarians. You may, therefore, have assumed that all librarians are evil cultists who want to take over the world, enslave humanity, and sacrifice people on their altars.
This is completely untrue. Not all librarians are evil cultists. Some librarians are instead vengeful undead who want to suck up your soul.
I’m glad we cleared that up.
‘You want to do what?’ Bastille’s mother demanded.
‘Fly to the Library of Alexandria,’ I said.
‘Out of the question, my lord. We can’t possibly do that.’
‘We have to,’ I said.
Australia turned toward me, leaving one hand on the glowing glass square that allowed her, somehow, to pilot the Dragonaut. ‘Alcatraz, why would you want to go to Alexandria? It’s not a very friendly place.’
‘Grandpa Smedry is there,’ I said. ‘That means we need to go too.’
‘He didn’t say he was going to Egypt,’ Australia said, glancing again at the crumpled note that he’d sent.
‘The Library of Alexandria is one of the most dangerous places in the Hushlands, Lord Smedry,’ Draulin continued. ‘Most regular Librarians will only kill or imprison you. The Curators of Alexandria, however, will steal your soul. I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to be placed in such danger.’
The tall, armored woman still stood with her arms behind her back. She kept her silver hair long but in a utilitarian ponytail, and she did not meet my eyes, but instead stared directly forward.