to his bench and dropped in his lap a problem that caught Heaven’s eye.
Until Uriel had revealed her bloodlust. Until a librarian decided to show a stubborn sense of honor and complicated everything.
Rami almost found himself wishing for the Purgatory desk again.
But then, he knew he would not be returning to the Gates, no matter how this played out. Rami had only his duty left. “I am no friend of the Deceiver. Do not look for sympathies where you will find none.”
Rami noted that Claire’s companions had stopped in front of the scales in the creature’s maw. A furtive argument started. The gangly demon with wild curls—Leto, he remembered; Claire insisted he was human—gestured wildly at the handsome swordsman, motioning past the monstrous creature in the water. The man appeared upset, a crinkle appearing on his perfect brow. He could have been an angel, were it not for the calculating way his gaze flicked to the arch and back. The swordsman shook his head hard, and the argument continued. Rami could not hear the words spoken, and Claire’s intense displeasure was focused entirely on him, which meant the librarian was not aware of the discussion occurring behind her.
Curious.
She tapped her fingers on her crossed arms. “What if we offered to leave one of us with you, a hostage? A guarantee that we are striking no offense to Heaven. Your sadistic partner did seem to enjoy terrifying those she had in her grasp, but if you swear no harm would come to him, I could allow Leto to stay while I set things right.” The woman’s eyes went distant, concerned. “That might actually be the safest place for him.”
Rami ignored the offer and the opinion of Uriel, but picked up on the worry in her eyes. “Are you certain you’re fighting a battle you can win?”
“The books need protecting. It’s my library, and I won’t relinquish it. But . . .” Determination drained out of Claire with a breath, leaving behind something gentle and tired. “I’m old enough to know the costs of any victory.”
Behind her, the argument had met a begrudging standoff. The swordsman had resorted to pleading, shaking his head, but the teenage boy seemed set on something. They traded quiet words and shook hands. The teenager asked something, and the taller man, after a long silence, nodded. Then the teenager looked toward Rami, gaze lingering on the librarian’s back. It was a look so filled with unspoken ache that Rami was surprised Claire didn’t feel it. And then the teenager turned and walked toward the mouth of the beast.
He was climbing to the scales, Rami realized. He knew what scales in an afterlife meant. He could read a realm as well as Claire. The boy was submitting his soul for judgment. Rami had seen enough war, enough strife, to know the shoulders of defeated men. The exact line of the down-turned head of someone who knew his fate and had given up fighting it. The boy knew what the scales would find in his soul.
The librarian was not the only one who understood costs, it seemed.
“What are you . . .” Rami must have betrayed something with his face, because Claire followed his gaze over her shoulder.
The teenager had one arm bent against his stomach but held out his other in supplication. The crocodile spirit brought the scales closer. The boy placed his feet carefully on the reptilian lips and left the shore.
Claire made a sound as if she’d been struck, then breathed a word. “Don’t . . .”
Claire pelted down the beach, but the swordsman took three wide steps to intercept her, whipping his arms around her waist. She was practically lifted off her feet as she scrambled at the man holding her back.
“Stop! Don’t do this!” Claire’s voice was jagged, more shattered than Rami had ever heard it. The swordsman bent his head and muttered into her ear soft words that were entirely unheard.
The teenager paused, one hand on the scales, as he looked behind. From the distance, Rami couldn’t make out his precise expression, but the boy raised a calm hand.
And then he stepped on the scale.
An inhuman howl, half fear, half fury, welled up from the librarian as the scales started to dip. She twisted and dragged them both to the sand as the crocodile god’s jaws started to close. The boy held tight to the bronze chains of the scale and seemed to shiver as the shadows of the crocodile’s jaw passed over