we get back, we’ll be . . . You should leave while you can.”
“Where do I go?” The question sounded more pitiful than Leto had intended, but it was out of his mouth before he could think. Panic began to edge its way up the back of his throat, and he tried to envision what leaving the Library meant. His first real memory of this place was of being a demon messenger sent to Claire’s desk. Everything before that was . . . darkness, fear, self-loathing. A coil of despairing acid in his throat. He’d rather do anything than that.
“You could stay at the Library, until we return. Plenty to read,” Claire offered.
“You said demons aren’t librarians because we can’t handle the nature of the books.” He looked down at his clenched hands.
“Leto . . . you’re not a demon. You’re—”
“I was sent to you. And you’re the only one who’s even tried to tell me the truth. You . . . you’re the only assignment I have. Until that changes, I’m staying.” Leto tried to sound confident rather than pleading. He chewed on his bottom lip as he saw Claire’s normally brittle brown eyes soften. Sympathy, pity. It wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want to be protected, to shield himself from hurtful truths. Not again. It felt the opposite of being human. He wanted . . . “I want to help. Please.”
Claire swept her gaze over Leto once before nodding slightly. “Okay. All right. I did say you were a fast learner.” She started down the corridor again. “Next lesson: move quickly.”
9
RAMIEL
When you consider all the realms of the afterlife, there are aberrations. To a librarian, Heaven is a large aberration. It seems curious that one of the grandest, most belief-fueled realms of paradise does not possess a library of its own.
In the minds of its believers, Heaven must be perfect. Absent nothing, regretting nothing, wanting nothing. It makes sense, then, that Heaven has no wing of our library.
What is a story without want, without desire, without need?
Librarian Gregor Henry, 1896 CE
“THIS IS, QUITE OBVIOUSLY, unacceptable.”
Ramiel had, frankly, expected more of an outburst from Uriel. He’d delivered his report of the encounter on Earth, standing stock straight in the center of the archangel’s office, bracing for the anger he knew was coming. But Uriel had merely listened, giving him the full measure of her ageless, infinite attention until he fell silent.
In some ways, that was much worse.
“You not only allowed our best leads to escape, but you lost our only evidence and means to pursue.” Uriel toyed with a small compass in her hands without looking at it, her stern gaze reserved for Rami. The sharp edges of the navigator’s tool flickered and slid between her fingers like a blade.
“We still have leads—”
“What leads?” Uriel interrupted, voice level but knuckles white as the compass stilled. “Do tell me, Watcher, how we can locate these librarians when they possess the artifact.”
There were no ways, not in the magics Rami understood. He held his tongue.
“What’s more, the fact that you were bested by a dead woman and a—what? A demonic servant who could mug you like taking candy from a cherub?” Uriel shook her head. “It’s a stain on Heaven. Was it sympathy? Your fondness for humans from your time as shep—”
“Souls!” Uriel’s glare could melt galaxies, but Rami swallowed and pushed forward. “Hell’s librarian is a human soul.”
When Watchers had served Heaven, Ramiel had been the Thunder of God . . . and the shepherd. Sent to lost souls to shepherd them to the afterlife. No soul stayed lost under Rami’s care. The conclusion lit Uriel’s eyes with a strange, sharp glimmer. “You can track her?”
“Not while she’s in Hell or another realm,” Rami admitted. The lost status of a soul was critical. “But if she strays to Earth again or travels the roads between, I should be able to narrow our options. Without a divine mandate, however, it will take some time.”
A smile curdled Uriel’s expression, a strange and unnatural look. Rami had thought winning Uriel’s approval would be satisfying, but instead it felt startling, like a show of claws. “Make your preparations. The fact remains that we must move forward quickly to catch up. We know Hell’s Library has it. May, in fact, have the whole thing. I’m not giving the victory to the Betrayer that easily,” Uriel said. “In the meantime, we’ll start with the other realms she’d be likely to rabbit to. The major