“We could just take them all?” Damien grinned.
“Sneaking back in the dark and avoiding the guards will be hard enough without a stack of books higher than your head to carry. Plus, the archivists will put out an alert immediately if something is missing, and they’re much more likely to notice if it’s multiple somethings and not just one.”
“I guess you are a good thief, aren’t you?” Damien sighed. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to find it the hard way.” He lifted a hand and set his gaze on the row.
She thought for a moment he was casting, and there was a brief flicker of fear he might damage the tomes, but instead, something damaged him. As he brought his hand right to the first spine, there was a light that pricked in his palm, the glow bluish, and then he swept his hand slowly down the row.
Damien’s arm jerked, and he sucked in a breath between grit teeth, coming to a stop on a spine just in the center, sapphire with a silver filigree running down it. The book certainly looked the part. “That one,” he said and took a step back from the shelf, cradling his hand.
Amma ignored the book, grabbing and pulling his palm to her face instead. “What did you do?” Under Kaz’s flame, it looked gruesome just in the center, skin bubbling up, and it smelled worse. When she shifted her thumb closer to the blackened edge of the wound, he winced. “Sorry, sorry,” she said in a hushed voice, making sure to be more tender.
His eyes flicked to her, and he smirked. “It will heal the same as everything else, just a bit slower.”
She frowned up at him.
“But you see?” He nodded toward the Lux Codex. “This is why I need your nimble fingers.”
She stared at the wound a second longer then released him, taking up the book. There was nothing special about it when it touched her skin, not even a warm blast of goodness. It simply felt like any other leather-bound book, though it was quite small. She levied it in her hand and flipped through the pages. In the very dim light, she could see it was filled with tiny lines of script—predictable—but nothing special.
“Impressive,” he said, shaking his burnt palm and straightening. “Perhaps there truly is luxerna woven into its spine. Well, if you’re sure there’s nothing else—”
There was a click deep in the chamber, a key in a lock, and voices.
“Shoot,” Amma hissed, head snapping in the direction of their exit. She’d been stuck in the restricted section before with an archivist, but by herself it was easy to hide and wait.
“You are more than welcome to check again.” Watchwoman Aretta’s voice was tighter than it had been in the main chamber. “Thank you for asking your guardsmen to stay behind. This chamber is sacred, and too many bodies within at once will disturb the enchantments on the tomes.”
That didn’t sound right to Amma, but then she didn’t blame Aretta for wanting to be away from Brineberth soldiers—it was as if their training included entire courses on chauvinism. Still, why the woman had to bring anyone into the restricted section at all,now, was maddening, but she knew it had to be that Brineberth mage, Gilead, and that was even worse. If he spotted her, there would benothingshe could do.
Kaz instinctively put out his tail, and the small section fell into a deeper darkness.
“If there is anything new you’ve brought in, that would be best,” said Gilead, arresting and pinched, and she cursed him again in her mind.
“They’re coming this way.” Amma tucked the Lux Codex into the small satchel she had strapped around her waist, lucky it fit. There was only one way in and out of the section. If they moved quickly enough, they could break off and head down a separate row, but footsteps were already coming toward them.
Damien grinned from the side of his mouth, once again holding up his dagger, and Kaz, on his shoulder, hunched his back and rubbed his clawed hands together. They didn’t understand the meaning of stealth, obviously.
Amma didn’t doubt they could get them out of there with violence, but she didn’t want to leave death in their wake no matter how tempting Gilead’s death might have been. If there were bodies, especially of a Brineberth dignitary, there would be an inquiry, and moving about Faebarrow would be almost impossible, nevermind leaving the city. But there wasn’t enough time to explain any of that to Damien.
Amma shook her head, eyes darting around for a distraction, finding only more and more books and the shelves they stood on. But, of course—that was it.
“Sestoth, forgive me,” she said quietly, then turned to Damien. “When I run, you follow me, no detours, and no attacking anyone, got it?”
“Are you really giving me an order to—”
She poked a finger against his chest. “Got it?”
He frowned, then smirked. “Yes, ma’am.”
Amma blew out a sharp breath, the steps coming closer, just on the other side of the case from them. In a quick move, she scooped up the book that had so recently attempted eating the two of them. It immediately tried to snap, but she was ready for it, taking it by the binding and winding back. With as much effort as she had, she chucked it over the tall stack, it thumped to the ground on the other side, and then all at once began to thrash.
Aretta and Gilead shouted, feet scuffling. The watchwoman began cursing at the animate tome, and the two continued to shriek as it sounded like someone tried to lift it, and it snapped back. There was an even louder thump, a yelp, and the case just beside Amma and Damien began to wobble.
“Oh, no, no, no.” Amma threw out her hands to push it back as it tipped toward them, but Damien hauled her out of the way as the case plummeted down where they had stood, the rest of the uncategorized books tumbling out as the shelving crashed into the table.
Amma ran, and Damien was right behind her. They skidded out from the row, catching a quick glimpse of Aretta and Gilead, still fighting with the book, more tomes having been knocked down and arcana lighting up the room, but the mage’s eyes flicked up just as Amma and Damien bolted into the dark. Whether their features could be made out in the din and the chaos, she didn’t know, but Gilead’s voice called after them, “Who’s there?”
Faster than she had perhaps ever run in her life, Amma guided them through the stacks, catching corners and knocking off rogue books as she went. Glass crashed behind them as it sounded like another animate tome was freed, and there was a cacophony as another stack was tipped over. They certainly weren’t supposed to be this easy to knock down—liathau was heavy and sturdy and the wood should have known its only job was to stay upright—but Amma was thankful for the barrier falling between them and the others, exactly what they needed to reach the stairs as Gilead’s arcana burst behind them.
