The Library of the Unwritten - A. J_ Hackwith Page 0,104

position. He doubled over, forcing a startling amount of silt from his mouth. When his eyes stopped watering, he found he was sprawled on a wide shore. Silty gray sand stretched in either direction as far as he could see, salted with a scruff of reeds and dunes that sloped down to a flat, strangely still sea.

Not a sea, Leto thought as his eyes adjusted to the light. The water was a dusty mirror, still but streaked with brown and algae. He squinted across to just make out a skim of pale gray that indicated land on the other side. A river. A dead river.

To his right was a particularly starved patch of reeds, and it was from this that Claire rose with a squawk. “No warning about that impact. I will murder her. I don’t care if she’s my own book. I will—” She stopped, frowning as she picked tiny seeds out of her skirts. “Can I not stay clean for one hour?”

Leto grinned despite himself, but there was a groan behind him before he could respond.

Hero rolled up and with grim distaste retrieved his boot from a puddle. He shook it out and glanced toward Claire. “At least a nap seems to have returned someone’s sense of spirit.”

Claire was getting better at ignoring Hero, it seemed. She turned a critical eye on Leto. “Everyone all right?”

“I think so.” Leto rubbed the back of his head. The moment when he hit the invisible gate had been a queer jumble, rattling his senses around like pebbles in a can. His arm was still broken, protesting movement, but he could wiggle his fingers, and his aches were less painful in this realm. Bodies were distant things. “Where are we?”

“Very good question.” Claire stopped fuming over her dress long enough to survey the area. “Not a realm I’m familiar with. River, sand, reeds . . . an old pagan culture. Not Greek. Egyptian? Oh, please let it be Duat. We’ll have fast passage back to the Library with help from the librarians there. And they have an excellent poetry collection. . . .” Claire’s eyes lit up, and she began to mutter what sounded like a bibliography to herself as she inspected the waterline.

Behind them, a strange dark arch loomed across the interminable sand. It was as if a circle of obsidian had been buried there by a wayward giant. Leto approached and leaned closer to inspect it. A flicker of white in the black material made him jerk back. The interior of the arch wasn’t opaque, he realized. It was the darkness of the underground chamber they’d just left. The other side of the gate.

Leto ran a hand experimentally over it, but the surface was solid and unforgiving. The sound from the other side was muted, but he could still hear the howling of the Hounds. Nothing stirred in the dark frame, though. No light, no gleam of Beatrice’s aluminum bat.

Leto said lowly to Hero, “Beatrice?”

Hero winced and shook his head slowly. Leto’s stomach did a flip-flop. He cast a nervous glance back. Claire turned her head down. The curtain of her hair didn’t hide the injured curl of her shoulders.

“Dead?” Claire’s voice was hollow.

Hero hesitated. “I don’t know. The Hellhounds . . . should have stopped when you dragged us through.”

The distant sound of barking from the other side of the arch said they hadn’t gone back to Hell, at least. Claire stared sightlessly at the sand a moment, then nodded slowly to herself.

The pinch of concern on Hero’s face deepened. “There’s a chance that she . . .”

“Enough.” Claire cleared her throat and straightened to look toward the water. “Let’s figure out our way across, then, shall we?”

Claire wasn’t heartless. Leto knew that well enough by now. But as unflinchingly practical as she was to everyone else, she reserved the tightest reins for herself. Leto wondered if anyone else bothered to look closely enough to see the strain. He could see it now, the tic in her jaw, the way her shoulders trembled, just a flicker, before setting themselves hard against the world.

She’d been taking care of Leto all this time. Caring for him like a lost child. He ached to do something to ease the way for her. Something. Anything.

Hero exchanged a long look with Leto before following her down through the reeds. “Not to put a damper on the day at the beach, but what happens if we do manage to return to Hell? Andras already has