Page 49

Nobody moved.

The arm across her collarbone gripped like iron. Amrita’s training kicked in. She catalogued what she could without turning her head. Her captor was taller than her by several inches. She thought it was a man because his voice was deep and compelling. He was very strong. The blade was short and sharp, positioned with confidence and precision. He knew what he was doing. One flick of his wrist and she would be done for.

Behind her she could hear Buffalo make a strangled sound and Zani’s swift intake of breath.

“That book,” the voice said, close to her ear, “does not belong to you.”

“I know. I haven’t claimed it,” Amrita said. Her voice was steady. She was very good at steady. “I was simply examining it.”

“You were examining it with both hands and the face of a shrew about to help herself to what is not hers.” He was quiet for a moment. “Who are you?”

“My name is Amrita Berman. I am the Director of the Society for the Protection of Natural Magic.” She kept her chin level. “We are here because texts of significant magical importance have been disappearing from this library for years, and it’s our mission to save and protect them. We are not thieves. We are custodians.”

A short silence.

“The Society?” His voice became even more distrustful. “I have never heard of your Society.”

“If you had, you would know we don’t steal books. We protect them.”

“That sounds a lot like what our friend Callimachus says when he steals books. ‘It’s for your own good,’ he tells people. ‘I am protecting you. Preserving your knowledge.’” He held her even tighter. “I am sick of it. I have been hunting for my atlas for years. Ever since I watched it go into this building. I haven’t been able to get near it until tonight. And what do I find? A strange woman is about to bag my book in the dark, while her friends stand guard at the door.” The blade did not move. “From where I’m standing, it looks like you’re just another thief in a chain of thieves.”

“Who are you?” Will asked, from somewhere to her left. His voice was careful, measured.

A pause, as though the man were deciding whether the answer cost him anything.

“My name is Raya Tufan,” he said.

Amrita knew that name.

So this is how it happens… Happened?

“That atlas has been in my family,” Raya Tufan said, “for over six hundred years. It was on my ship and I refused to turn it over. Your friend Callimachus sent an entire army onto my ship. He accused me of piracy. There was no piracy that day. Only theft. And he was the thief.” Raya’s voice had developed an edge like a blade. “And now I find another one standing in his library in the dark, with my atlas in her unclean hands.”

“I am nothing like Callimachus,” Amrita said. The words came out more defensive than she intended.

“No? He also told me he only wanted to protect it.”

“If Callimachus told you that, he lied to you. I am not lying.” Amrita struggled to keep her wits about herself and her heart rate steady.

“So you say.” Raya didn’t sound convinced. He sounded jaded. “Here is what I know about book thieves, Director. They always believe they are the good ones. They always have a title and a reason. The library, the society, the archive, the foundation… There’s always a rational reason why this powerful magic needs to stay safe in their particular hands.” He paused. “That atlas does not belong to your Society. It does not belong to this library. It belongs to my people, and I am taking it back.”

“And me?” Amrita asked. “What do you plan to do with me?” She wasn’t going to die today. She hadn’t written the note. This knowledge helped her remain calm. “I’ve heard of you, Raya Tufan,” Amrita continued. “I hear you sail on a ship surrounded by storms.” She was stalling now, hoping that her friends were paying attention. “And that your crew are literal skeletons. You mostly sail in the Mediterranean. And some people say your ship has the ability to disappear, like glass. I’m honored to be in the presence of such a powerful practitioner of magic.”

The silence that followed was a half-second too long.

“You’re coming with me,” Raya Tufan said. “It’s the only way I can be certain your agents do not follow me. If they do, they will be very sorry. Say goodbye to them now.” His grip on her loosened, just enough for her to turn her head and see her friends.

“That,” Buffalo said, from across the room, in a voice that was very quiet and very clear, “is not going to happen.”

“Buffalo.” Amrita kept her voice even. “Please. Don’t.”

“I’m not going to⁠—”

“Don’t.”

“Listen to me.” Amrita took one last look at her friends. Buffalo, jaw set, doing calculations she recognized in his eyes and did not want him to do. Will, wide-eyed and watchful. Zani, quiet and still, a sure sign her mind was working fast.

“Our wards,” Amrita said. “You all remember the wards?”