Damien didn’t seem to accept that, but she wasn’t sure what to say—it was the truth. He simply continued to stare, not angry, but confused.
“Okay, get over it, someone else might take the passage behind us, and you can’t be standing there. Kaz, you can put yourself out. And Damien, close the door, it knows to lock itself after becausethe woodis arcane,” she stressed, hoping he would understand.
Amma turned back to the chamber, the space alight from glowing stones set into sconces on the walls. It was a warm, orangey hue, like candlelight, and it flickered similarly as well, but Amma was fairly certain that was added to give it a cozy effect without the danger of fire.
There was a click from the door as it was finally locked, Damien stepping up beside her. “There isn’t time now, but we willnotbe glossing over what you just did like it didn’t happen.”
Amma shrugged, nothing more to say on the matter.
CHAPTER 26
THE PRIMEVAL ARCANA OF CURSING
Before Amma, hundreds of bookcases appeared to be packed in tightly together. There was no singular way forward, cases lined up with erratic spaces and hidden gaps, some reaching the ceiling, others just a foot or two over Amma’s head. Labyrinthine, some were set facing the entrance, others perpendicular, and some on diagonals. The most direct route to the restricted section was from the main hall, but it was risky to climb up on that raised balcony with librarians and even guards shuffling about, so they would have to take the more difficult one.
“You know the way?” Damien asked.
“Sort of.” Amma reached out for the bookcase right before her, made from more liathau. She walked along it to an opening, shook her head, and walked back, finding another. “This way. Stay close, they do move sometimes.” And she slipped in.
Damien kept up with her, the heat off of him at her back. Swiftly, she twisted and turned through the walkways the bookcases created, trailing a hand along the shelves, feeling the smooth grain of the wood on her fingertips. They were getting close, she could tell from the way the floor dipped slightly and the way a sconce was hung askew, but she took a left instead of her normal right when the passageway came to a new end, and had to slip between a set of narrow, high shelves.
Damien squeezed in behind her, and down another row there was an opening that led to the room’s center, a much bigger area with the entry to the restricted section against one wall, opposite it the exit to the stairs, leading back up to the main library. Amma nearly stepped out when the door into the library clicked and swung inward with none of the care or quiet Amma used when sneaking about. A rotund, robed figure swept in, Archivist Reinar, with his head down into a book and just enough distraction to miss Amma. She pushed herself back and knocked Damien around the shelf’s corner.
Of all the possible librarians whyhim? Her heart pounded as she pressed into Damien’s chest and caught his eyes, saying nothing, but apparently not needing to. Damien held up a hand, and she thought he would pull out his dagger, but instead just gestured for her to step back with him, retreating down the passageway of shelves.
The footsteps of the archivist were quick and loud, and the two hurried away as he came nearer. The corridor was narrow, and he was coming closer, but the shelves they’d slipped between had already closed up, and they continued on until they no longer could, ending at a stone wall.
Amma spun back to see a shadow moving toward the opening along the bookshelves. He would see them the moment he stepped into the row if he even so much as glanced to the side, nowhere for them to go. And then an arm swept around her middle and pulled her back, and a wall of hazy fog rose up from the floor. Amma inhaled sharply, Archivist Reinar turning into the row. He snapped his book shut and looked up, eyes falling on her.
“He can’t see us.” Damien was so quiet she thought he might have sent the words straight into her mind, but the vibration of his voice against her ear told her he had spoken aloud. His whisper, however, meant the archivist could still hear them if he were close enough.
Reinar strode forward a few paces and began to look through the shelves. She could see him, but his form was slightly muted, like the color had been sucked all out of it. Her eyes skimmed the row, everything in grey tones, and then when she looked to the shelf right beside them, she could read none of the spines, the words in a script that reminded her of the one scrawled on shop signs in Aszath Koth.
She felt odd too, lighter somehow, but also grounded, like she might not quite be in the Grand Athenaeum anymore but a hazy copy of the place that may or may not have been just as real. But there was Damien’s arm around her, and that was definitely real.
Amma tipped her head up and back, and he was raising a finger to his lips to signal she needed to remain silent. Damien’s hand pressed into her side with the deep, slow breath she took, and then his fingers inched up slightly, tickling at her ribs. She rocked her head back a bit more, pushing up onto her toes. Closer. She wanted to be closer to him, but what she would do when she got there, she didn’t know, and she would never find out as a sound from along the row stole her momentum.
Archivist Reinar replaced his book on the shelf and continued toward where they were masked against the wall, and Amma froze, head still tipped up but eyes on the librarian. He followed his own finger, muttering to himself, blue light hovering at his shoulder as he looked for a title, bringing himself closer and closer to where they were hidden.
Amma pressed back into Damien’s body, clutching onto his arm already around her waist. He tightened his grip, and she held her breath, but nothing could still her heart, thumping to be free from her chest.
The archivist stopped just before them, narrowed eyes behind metal-rimmed glasses that he pushed up his nose, and mumbled, “There you are, my dear. By Keluregn, which one of those goat-fucking imbeciles shelved you away here?”
Amma winced with a laugh that tried to escape—Archivist Reinar, swearing? As a tiny noise erupted from her lips, Damien clamped his free hand over her mouth, and her shoulders shook silently even as Reinar’s brow furrowed in confusion, looking about for the sound.
Damien shifted behind Amma, and she saw from the corner of her eye a rat scurry down his arm and jump to the floor. It was a lucky thing Damien’s hand was still over her mouth, the laughter stopping immediately, wanting to be replaced with a yelp as the rat scampered away from them and up a bookshelf.
Right into Reiner’s line of sight, the rat poked its nose out, tiny underbite opening with a squeak, and Reiner gave a shout, swiping at it with the book he held. The rat ducked away, and the archivist turned on a heel, swearing some more about pests and poor upkeep and which of the apprentice librarians would be paying for this.
Once his footsteps fell away and the door into the library proper closed with a bang, the haziness wavered, color seeped back in around them, and Damien’s hands released her. Amma remained against him for a too-long moment until the rat popped back out from the shelves and ran toward her. She jerked away as it sped past and jumped onto Damien’s boot, scurried up to his shoulder, and was suddenly Kaz again.
“That bastard almost got me,” the imp hissed.
Damien cast a wary glance at him. “Yes. Unfortunate.” Then looked back to her. “Almost got you too.”
Amma touched her chest, heart still beating hard. “That was close.”
“Much closer thanks to your giggling.” Damien’s hands were on his hips, and she frowned at them, wanting them on her instead.
