Nevernight (The Nevernight Chronicle #1) - Jay Kristoff Page 0,119

shelves took to vibrating, books murmuring, dust falling in gentle clouds. Mia searched the shadows as the tremors worsened, the floor beneath them shuddering. Her heart was hammering now. She didn’t know how deep into the maze they were, but suddenly, this didn’t seem the wisest place to be. Without Mister Kindly in her shadow, her fear came quick. Mouth drying. Pulse thumping.

“What in the Mother’s name is that?” Tric asked.

Mia could hear a leathery sound. As if a great bulk were being dragged across the stone. And then a bellowing roar echoed somewhere out in the athenaeum’s dark.

“Let’s get out of here, Mia.”

“… Aye,” she nodded. “Let’s.”

The dragging sound grew louder as the pair hurried back in what Mia hoped was the direction they’d come from. But the forest of shelves all looked the same, rising about them in faceless rows. The pair flinched as another roar sounded out in the dark, Tric snatching Mia’s hand and breaking into a sprint.

“What is it?”

“I don’t even want to know. Run!”

Books were almost falling from their shelves now. As Mia and Tric rounded a corner, she realized they’d worked their way into a dead end. With a curse, they backed away as another roar rang out—closer this time. Too close for comfort. Wanting no part of whatever was about to happen, Mia clutched fistfuls of shadows and tore them up, wrapping herself inside. And though she’d never done it before, surrounded by a darkness that had never known the touch of a sun, she seized Tric by the shoulders and dragged him in with her, enveloping them both.

Mia pulled Tric in tight, huddled against the shelves at their back. This close, she could feel the boy’s heart pounding against his ribs, realized he was just as frightened as she was. Near blind beneath the shroud, Tric sniffed the air, frowning.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“I can’t smell it.”

“At all?”

Tric shook his head. “All I get is the books. And you.”

“Bath time?”

“… Is that an invitation?”

“O, fuck off—”

Another roar. Closer. Whatever it was, they couldn’t see well enough under her cloak to run—they’d likely plow face first into a shelf if they tried to bolt. So instead, Mia wrapped her arms around Tric and pulled him down, small as they could be. Fear swelling inside her, flooding the place Mister Kindly once filled. Pressed against the boy’s back and trying not to shiver.

The dragging sound grew louder, wet and creaking. The floor beneath them shook. Beyond her veil of shadowstuff, Mia saw something vast move past, slithering on the stone. She caught the impression of a long, serpentine shape, dozens of blunt, brutish heads, lined with teeth. Moving between the shelves like some colossal caterpillar, spine arching as it dragged itself forward, snuffling the air. Mia clutched her dagger, shaking with the fear of it. Cursing herself a weakling. A child.

Tric reached back wordlessly, took hold of her hand and squeezed.

Minutes stretched into forever, there in that sweat-soaked dark. But whatever the thing was, it passed by without noticing them, slowly slithering off between the shelves. Mia and Tric huddled together, listening until it was out of earshot, silent as mice.

“Now can we get out of here?” Tric finally hissed.

“I’m thinking … yyyyes.”

Slinging the shadow cloak aside, she pulled Tric to his feet. Clambering up onto a shelf, Mia peered out into the sea of tomes, looking for an escape from the maze. She could see the athenaeum’s doors in the distance, blinked hard against some trick of the light. They looked miles away …

“Lookin’ frsum’thin?”

Mia cursed, almost jumping out of her skin as the voice spoke from the shadows. Tric whirled on the spot, saltlocks flying, blade in hand.

Mia heard a flintbox strike, saw flame reflected on impossibly thick spectacles, two shocks of white hair. A plume of cinnamon-scented smoke drifted into the air, and Chronicler Aelius stepped into the light, wheeling a wooden trolley stacked dangerously high with books. A small plaque on its snout was marked RETURNS.

“Maw’s teeth, does everyone around here walk on fucking tiptoe?” Tric asked.

The old man grinned white, exhaled gray. “Excitable one, aren’t you?”

“What do you bloody expect? Did you see that thing?”

Aelius blinked. “Eh?”

“That monster. That thing! What the ’byss was it?”

The old man shrugged. “Bookworm.”

“Book…”

“… worm.” Aelius nodded. “That’s what I call ’em, anyways.”

“Them?” Mia was incredulous.

“O, aye. There’s a few living in here. That was just a little one.”

“Little one?” Tric shouted.

The old man squinted through the pall of smoke. “O, aye. Very

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