explanation. Had to.
Arthur stepped past him, slammed the door, and shoved the chair back into place. Almost immediately, someone began to pound on it—the natural flow of air had revived at least one of the librarians, it seemed.
Not that it did much to help Sebastian, stuck on this side of the door with a murderous Arthur.
Sebastian held up both hands as his attacker advanced on him. “Wh-what are you doing? We’re friends, Arthur!”
“You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?” Arthur’s voice shook. “Going on and on about O’Neil, refusing to listen even when everyone told you to stop. Even when I pretended a book from my own collection had been stolen, you refused to accept the story I gave you.”
Sebastian’s mind spun, like a machine with a slipped gear, going nowhere. He could only think of all the nights they’d retired to The Silver Key, celebrating or commiserating over drinks as the situation warranted. “I’ve known you for almost eight years. I danced at your wedding!”
Anguish twisted Arthur’s features. “That’s why I didn’t want to hurt you. The bookbinders had to go, but I did everything I could to dissuade you from looking too closely into O’Neil’s death. If you’d only listened, everything would be fine!”
“You killed him, didn’t you?” Sebastian’s fingers went numb, and he barely felt the pain in his shoulder. “You murdered O’Neil and poisoned Ves.”
Arthur gestured impatiently. “Obviously I misjudged the dosage, since Rune was in fine health the last time I saw him.” As though Ves’s survival absolved him of any guilt.
The hammering on the door turned into repeated blows, as though more than one person was throwing themselves at it. The chair shuddered, and Arthur started to turn in that direction.
“Did you hire the men who threatened my family?” Sebastian demanded.
“I didn’t mean for you to get caught up in this,” Arthur protested, his attention diverted back to Sebastian. “But I couldn’t risk you ruining everything at the last moment. You have to understand that.”
“But why?” Sebastian asked. “Arthur, if you ever counted me as your friend, at least tell me that.”
“You know we lost everything in the crash of 1907.”
Sebastian swallowed, but his throat was too dry for it to do any good. He had to keep Arthur talking. “Of course I know. I paid your bar tab for the rest of the year, because it was the only thing I knew to do to help you.”
“I remember,” Arthur said raggedly. “And I appreciated it, because you didn’t make me feel like a beggar. But my wife’s relatives…I’ve had to plead for handouts from them for the last three years, just to make ends meet. They look down their noses and never let me forget that I’m a failure. My own wife says it’s a good thing we don’t have children, because I couldn’t provide for them. Do you know how humiliating that is?”
“Humiliating enough to murder your fellow librarians?” Sebastian exclaimed. “Your friends? What do you mean to do, sell the Book of Breath for money? That won’t get you back on your feet. You’ll have to flee Widdershins at best and set up elsewhere, always knowing the law could be one step behind you.”
Arthur shook his head. “No. The book is mine. Emeline—the woman bound to it—already helped me. Told me where to find gold among the dead.”
The unexpected bequest Arthur mentioned hadn’t come from a relative after all. “It told you to rob a grave?”
“She did more than that,” Arthur snapped. “She was kind to me. She didn’t—didn’t pity me, like the rest of you. She doesn’t see me as a failure the way my wife and her family do. She wants to help me become the man I would have been if bad luck hadn’t dogged my footsteps.”
“Perhaps it was bad luck and not bad decisions before,” Sebastian said, wondering how he could possibly get through to Arthur. “But this is a bad decision. This dead necromancer is lying to you.”
“You’re wrong.” Arthur straightened his shoulders. “If I unbind her tonight, beneath the comet, she will give me everything I could ever wish for. Everything I deserve. I won’t be a failure anymore. Now get out of my way, Sebastian.”
The wood of the door was beginning to crack. Sebastian clenched his fists. “No. I’m not letting you unleash some horror on the rest of us. You’ll have to go through me.”
“Then I will,” Arthur said, and lifted the hammer high. He made as if to step forward—then