Unhallowed (Rath and Rune #1) - Jordan L. Hawk Page 0,87
let out a startled cry.
“I don’t think so,” Irene said from where Sebastian had left her on the floor.
Arthur jerked frantically, but the very stone of the floor had molded itself around the toe of one shoe, pinning him in place. “Damn it! Let me go!”
The door to the sword room burst outward in a shower of breaking wood. Mr. Quinn stepped through, tossing down the marble bust of Paracelsus he’d used to batter his way through.
Arthur snarled and wrenched his foot free. He barreled into Sebastian, shoving him hard against the wall. Sebastian tried to grapple with him, but was forced to duck as the hammer whistled past his ear. A moment later, Arthur was free, his footsteps receding as he fled into the labyrinth.
Curse it.
Sebastian bent to help Irene up. “How long were you awake?”
“Long enough.” She dusted off her skirt. “I heard Arthur’s attempts to excuse his betrayal. If I’d been less groggy, I might have gotten hold of him better with the stone shaping spell, curse it. I wish magic came as easily to me as it does to some of my family members.” She paused. “Does this mean Mortimer is innocent?”
“It does.”
“Then I shall offer Mr. Waite an apology,” Mr. Quinn said. He clutched his old, blood-stained dictionary in his hands. “I made the rare mistake of overestimating one of the old families and assumed his ambition matched his name.”
“Er, that’s certainly one way to put it,” Sebastian said. “He’s here to help us, along with Ves and his brother. If you see a lot of tentacles, their owner is probably on our side.”
“And Mr. Fairchild has broken his oath and betrayed us.” Mr. Quinn’s voice remained level, but the chill in his silvery eyes made the hairs on the back of Sebastian’s neck prickle.
“He might be partially under control of the Book of Breath,” Sebastian said. “It’s been talking to him. Pretending to be on his side.”
“Or he might simply be a colossal prick who has decided he feels emasculated because he has to ask for money,” Irene replied. Turning to Mr. Quinn, she added, “He admitted to killing Mr. O’Neil. I suspect the body is concealed somewhere in the Physics and Astronomy Collection, since that’s where Arthur works.”
More and more librarians emerged from the sword room. One of them carried a metal cylinder in his hands, which he held up as he approached. The label read Chloroform. “I found this behind one of the ventilation grates.”
Mr. Quinn hefted his dictionary. “Anyone who needs to recover, please remain here. The rest of you—follow me.” He paused, then turned to Sebastian. “Actually, Mr. Rath, I have a special task for you.”
Ves hurried through the maze of the library, aiming for the sheep room, where the alteration had been made that weakened the spirit’s prison. He could leave Noct on guard there, then he and Waite would try to find Fagerlie, assuming he was still wandering lost in the labyrinth.
Unfortunately, light shone from the sheep room already. Despite the false map, Fagerlie had beaten them there.
“Who would have started knocking down the wall?” a male voice asked from inside.
“I don’t know,” Fagerlie replied, “but it’s a good thing they did, or else we might never have found this place. The Young will pay for its treachery.”
Ves ground his teeth together. But insults didn’t matter right now. Someone else clearly knew about the Book of Breath—and had felt confident enough of not being disturbed that they’d started to try and get through the wall to where it lay concealed. Which meant none of the librarians had been around to stop them.
He really, really wished he hadn’t suggested Sebastian find the librarians alone.
Ves signaled to Noct, who uncurled from around him, using his strong tentacles to climb up the nearby shelves. The sound of a mallet striking masonry rang from inside the room. “Stay back here,” he ordered Waite, his words covered by the loud demolition of the wall. “I’ll try to draw them out of the room and away from the book.”
Waite scanned the shelves and took down the heaviest volume in easy reach. “I’ll hide and whack anyone who comes close.”
Ves crept nearer to the doorway. One of the men stood guard, peering straight out into the darkened stacks.
Time to go up.
He followed Noct’s example, grabbing hold of anything he could use to lift himself up: shelves, lighting fixtures, decorative elements, anything to move him ever closer to the oblivious guard.