The Library of the Unwritten - A. J_ Hackwith Page 0,5
out of the metal and made all the jars tremble on their shelves.
Leto most certainly was not a kid. Demons didn’t really have childhoods. Soul-shuddering inductions, nightmarish hazings, yes; childhood, no. Leto started to form his protest when a walking mountain in a tight tailored suit came trumbling out of the gloom behind the counter.
A pale head, the size and shape of a boulder, floated above a starched collar. Leto quailed. He retreated toward the door as he took in dark pits where the monster’s eyes should have been. The creature opened its mouth to reveal a row of jagged red edges that almost, but not quite, passed for teeth. Its voice rumbled in a timbre that shook the shelves around them.
“ABANDON ALL HOPE, YE WHO—”
“Yes, yes, hope abandoned, Walter,” Claire cut in. “We need transport.”
The creature’s face fell, serrated teeth disappearing behind a quivering lip. He straightened his tie and blinked bottomless-pit eyes at the librarian. “Aww, miss! C’mon, let me do it proper-like. Ever since the Reformation, I never get mortals in here no more.”
“If you must, but do please be brief. And quieter.”
“Bully, ma’am. Thank you.” The giant straightened, and his shoulders nearly hit the rafters. He cleared his throat, opened his razor-filled mouth again, and launched into his speech.
“Abandon all hope, ye who enter here! Beyond me lies the city of woe. Before me waits the sleep which ye earn. None shall pass unless the soul be light; none shall pass out of the dark. I am that which stands; I am that which waits and shall not falter; I am that which keeps the fates. Weigh now your soul or turn back to thine sleep.”
It struck Leto as a little flowery, but echoed in a howling baritone, it did the job. The jars trembled on their shelves, so that a hundred glass voices seemed to echo the words. The vibration reached in to jostle Leto’s organs unpleasantly.
Claire did not appear impressed. She propped her elbows on the counter, her back straight even in the middle of a bored recline. She tugged at one of her many braids, fussing with a stray bangle.
Brevity twisted her hands and risked a shy smile at the beast behind the counter. “I think that was awful terrifying, Mr. Walter. That trembly bit on the end is a nice touch.”
“Thank you, Miss Brevity. It took ages to get the acoustics just right.” The beast appeared to shrink and glow under the praise. He caught sight of Leto and leaned over with a dagger-filled grin that was something out of even a demon’s nightmares. “Hey, I don’t suppose you’re—”
Claire cleared her throat. “We’re here on business, Walter.”
The creature turned his sightless gaze back on the librarian. “Sorry, ma’am. How can I help you, Miss Claire?”
“We’re on an errand up top. I need one pass for Brevity here and two summoning candles for me and the boy.”
Leto bristled, forgetting his original protest about the trip. “I’m not a boy. I’m a demonic messenger of—”
“Yes, yes, two summoning candles for me and this most esteemed and powerful messenger of our fearless leader.” She raised her brows to Walter. “White should do. Don’t you think?”
Again, Walter leaned over the counter, peering above the librarian’s head to scrutinize Leto. Leto squirmed his toes and forced himself not to fidget and definitely not to meet the gaze of those bottomless black holes that threatened to swallow him up.
After a pause that did not seem at all short, Walter nodded. “White summoning should do ’bout right, Miss Claire. Coming right up. Miss Brevity, you’ve used summat like this before, yes?”
“Yep, I know the routine. Hauling the chief’s butt out of Hell is why she keeps me around.”
Claire cast her assistant a sour look as Walter thundered back into the halls behind the counter. “I do not get ‘hauled’ anywhere. You are merely fulfilling your duties, Brev.”
“You maybe want to summon yourself, then, boss?”
Leto glanced between the two women, a fresh layer of confusion coating his already stewing anxiety. “I don’t understand. Why does anyone need summoning? I thought you were going to Seattle.”
Claire turned as if suddenly remembering his presence. “You really are new, aren’t you? It’s because I’m human.”
At Leto’s blink, she gave a weak chuckle. “You assumed a mere demon could make sense of the tangled, unfinished dreams of humanity? Not likely. Too messy. Last demon assistant I had ran screaming after one full inventory. No, librarians are nearly always mortals, and nearly always unwritten authors