Around the ankles of the Boars it went, like living shackles. The reading room echoed with their howls. The dark closed over the bonfire, snuffing it with the snap of a fist bursting a bird’s heart. And then the floor shuddered.
The Boars began to sink. Stone sucked greedily at their legs, their shoulders, as the Library pulled them down. The flagstones closed up as the last tusk disappeared. Emma rolled to her side and pressed her ear to the floor. Far below, as if encased in several tons of stone, she heard their screams.
In the silence that remained, Emma lay stunned. She wanted to laugh, or cry, and she couldn’t tell which.
“Are they—”
“Trapped. Most horribly.” The Librarian smiled with dreamy malevolence. “The Library will hold the Boars until the City comes to take them for punishment. And the punishment will be grave indeed, for those who have violated the Night City’s most holy place, destroyed its books, and broken the bonds of their agreement.”
“That was—Did you know the Library could do that?”
“This Library is capable of many things. I am not sure if even the City knows how well it is able to defend itself, if ever it needsto.” The Librarian patted the side of a bookcase as lovingly as if it were the flank of a favorite horse. “It is all done now. All is well.”
Emma choked, burying her face in his brocaded front.
“There, child, there,” the Librarian soothed.
Emma found herself sobbing an incoherent string of words into the Librarian’s shoulder: about Richard, and rose gardens, and knives held at her throat. All the while, a knotted hand stroked her hair. Eventually, the sobs slowed. The Librarian’s words began to sink in. All was well.
Something struck her, and she looked up. “My friends, the mortals. They don’t know. I must go tell them.”
“Go, then, child.” She helped the Librarian to his feet. He looked at the mess ruefully. “I must take what care I can of the books before my sister arrives. She will wish my full attention to scold me for running into danger.”
So Emma left him and slipped past the remains of the bonfire. Past the splintered bookcases and the charred books scattered across the flagstones, and into the silence of the Library. It was over. They were all safe. The mortals were safe.
A bitter note crept into the sweet. There was no more fighting to do, which meant it was time for the worlds to separate again. It was time to say goodbye.
CHAPTER 40
The military history room was cluttered with glass cases holding muskets and ceremonial daggers. Rifles and sabers hung from the walls. Richard slumped on the floor against a display case. Hugo stood guard in front of him. In the other corner, Nat and Julia were binding a scratch on Jasper’s arm. With the unerring instincts of a cat, Venetia had perched herself on the windowsill. There, she was dividing equal attention between looking down on them, and grooming the gore out of her moonlight hair.
They all looked up when Emma came in.
“It’s over. We’re safe. The Boars are gone.”
Nat and Julia clutched each other. Jasper buried his head in his hands. And across the room, Hugo gave a sudden intake of breath.
They turned. Hugo was standing very still, his chin raised. A gold-hilted knife rested at his throat.
“And to think, I hadn’t been sure about putting this on display.” Richard smiled and tilted the dagger. His air of defeat had fallen away, as if it were a disguise he had shed. He had been waiting, Emma realized. For the group to be distracted. “Officer-classceremonial knife. My great-grandfather’s, actually. From the time of the Raj.”
Behind him, Emma could see the display case hanging open.
“Family heirloom.”
Julia stumbled toward Hugo. Richard tutted, and a line of red welled along Hugo’s throat. Julia stopped abruptly, her hand reaching for nothing.
“No closer, Jules, babe. Hugo’s a friend. I don’t want to hurt him. It’s her I want.” He jerked the blade at Emma.
“You’re going to come with me, Emma. And you are going to get on your knees and let me finish the sacrifice. Otherwise—” Hugo gave a muffled grunt of pain. Richard had pressed the flat of the blade to the open wound. “I will be forced to kill him. And I will.”
Emma took a single step before Jasper and Nat seized her arms. Nat hauled her back. “Don’t listen to him, Emma. He won’t do it.”
“Let go. I have to—”
“He’s bluffing,” offered Jasper, from her other side. “We’ve known Hugo since nursery.”
The knife lowered. A pleasant smile curved Richard’s cheeks. “Oh, since nursery, is it?” he said. He plunged the knife backward into Hugo’s gut, his face curiously detached. “I’d forgotten that.”
