Fools of us All - Chapter 42

I saw Caz’s sharp look, but I ignored it. I was as surprised as she was that I had somehow quoted the inscription on the cover. But there was no time to wonder about it. We had to leave quickly, before we were caught. I caught Bartleby’s eye for a moment and allowed a small grin to touch my lips before I nodded goodbye, walking out of the door.

Caz followed a moment later, her steps slow and heavy, her head hanging down. I had to grab her and pull her into the shadows when a guard came running by. She seemed to barely notice.

“C’mon, Caz,” I hissed in her ear. “We’re not getting out of here if you don’t lead the way. I am so lost right now and…nngh.” A fresh wave of pain hit me. I had wondered before, but now I was sure that it was more than my arm that had been damaged. The beating I had received had been worse than I had let on.

“Fine,” said Caz. “Follow me.” Her voice sounded hollow and lifeless, but she moved off at a quicker pace.

I was sure we were going to make it. We snuck around the building for an hour, being very careful to avoid everyone we could, not taking any chances. We could see the door across the hall from the niche in the wall behind a giant clay vase where we were hiding and there was no one in sight. Relief was now mixing with the pain I was feeling. Caz had just stepped out when I was wracked with pain unlike any I had felt before. I couldn’t stop the scream that tore itself from my throat as I collapsed against the giant vase.

Through half-closed eyes I watched the entire scene unfold in slow motion. The pottery slowly tipped over, heading for the floor. Caz turned in surprise, but before she could react, a guard appeared at the end of the hall, his weapon drawn. The vase shattered against the ground at the same time that the guard’s shot reached out to connect with Caz as she started to dive for safety.

And the entire time, the pain inside of me intensified. I could feel it washing over me like the ocean tide. I curled into a tight ball, unable to move or talk or do anything besides experience the pain. I don’t know how long I laid there, unable to even think.

So I was as surprised as anyone when I began to speak.

“And in that day a terrible cry will rise in the city, but the keeper of the light will pay it no heed. Though seeing the peril, none will recognise the danger from afar which begins from within. Remain ever vigilant against the coming day. The fallen will gain a reprieve, but a purpose must be served. Death cannot be swayed.”

The pain never stopped, even as I spoke. I don’t remember what happened next, or maybe I do remember and it makes no sense. I am sure I blacked out or began to hallucinate, because what I see when I close my eyes makes no sense. A man who looked much like me was standing where I had been only moments before. He strode forward with a purpose, fighting his way through terrified guards and awestruck scriveners until there was no one left awake in the hall. He returned to where Caz was sprawled on the floor, blood seeping into the carpet. With great tenderness he leaned down and scooped up the injured woman before striding purposefully a small room. He paused only long enough to smash a piece of glass and take the paper hanging behind it before stepping to a spot in the wall. He pressed a hidden latch and a large, round door sprang open. Before walking through he reached over and grabbed the ancient book that was laying on a stand, open to the midpoint. The door closed behind him, and I remembered no more.