His words were an echo in my head. You are more than a prediction. I may have started the apocalypse, may even be the Doomsday Child, but I could turn it around. I could stop it all. I simply had to release the Tetrad and have Royston destroy it.
But how? The answers must be inside the leather case Gian left for me. For his heir.
Though I knew I should go straight to the Rose Reading Room and jump through the gateway book to safety, I couldn’t leave the Chiave behind. Veronique may have stolen five of them, but I wasn’t about to let her have the remaining two.
Agata headed down the hall expecting me to follow her. When I didn’t, she whirled around. “This way.”
“I have to get something first,” I said.
She shook her head in protest. “We must hurry before Veronique and the others get here.”
“Both worlds depend on me getting it.”
She studied my eyes before giving in. “All right. I’ll keep a watch on the entrance. But quickly, you hear?”
“I will.” I took off down Aster Hall—a large space with soaring ceilings. Charging up the two flights of stairs to the McGraw Rotunda, my breaths grew heavy.
Dominating the wall at the right of the entrance to the Catalog Room was The Medieval Scribe. The mural reached almost from the floor to the high ceiling. The artwork was of a monk sitting at a drawing desk and copying a manuscript while another man watched. The sea, a castle, and a burning barn with two men attempting to calm a bucking horse made up the background of the painting. Just below the mural was a stone bench and a sign with the library hours on it.
A girl sat on that bench reading. The rotunda was crowded. People shuffled from mural to mural taking in the artwork. As I studied the monk, I thought of Gian’s clue, beneath destruction and rapine; he scribes the word, while time falls.
While time falls. “What does that even mean?” I asked under my breath as if someone would answer me. There were open books, a rolled parchment, and a discarded quill at his feet. On his desk were a bunch of quills secured together with a red ribbon, an inkwell, an hourglass, and an open book. Any of those could be the Chiave.
Tourists flowed in and out of the rotunda. My hands shook at my sides; I couldn’t wait for it to empty. Veronique and her Sentinels could show up at any time. The girl sitting on the bench in front of the mural stood, gathered her things, and walked away.
Witnesses or not, I decided this was my chance.
I recited the charm to release the Chiave.
“Libero il tesoro.”
Cold air circled me, the chill raising the fine hair on my arms. Voices sounded around me. Quick intakes of breaths.
“What’s happening?”
“Did you see that?”
“It’s moving.”
“Not to worry, everyone,” Agata said. With my eyes on the mural, I hadn’t seen her enter. “It’s a new interactive show we’re trying.”
Good one.
The monk in the mural set his quill down on the table while the man above him shifted his gaze to me. The horse, men, and burning barn in the background were all in motion.
Clearing his throat, the monk stood and lifted an hourglass off the desk. His gray hair was like a wreath around his bald head. His white robes were clean and crisp. But it was his eyes that startled me—soft blue and full of sadness.
“You are just a child, daughter of the Seventh. I am Frances, the keeper of the Chiave you seek. This hourglass will allow the holder to slow time for as long as the sand lasts.” He leaned out of the mural and extended the artifact to me. I stepped over and took it from him.
“Thank you,” I said.
He bowed his head slightly, returned to his chair, and lifted his quill off the desk. The man above him, the thrashing flames on the barn, and the horse with the men chasing it all froze into their places. The magic always seemed to surprise me, even though I’d seen it several times before. The breeze halted, and the rustling pages of the book on the desk settled back into position.
“Now, off with you,” Agata said from behind me. “They have arrived.”
I twisted around to find her retreating back. She was racing toward Veronique and the other Sentinels. I soared across the rotunda.
My boots sounded against the high-arched hallway. The library was active, people were everywhere, but I suddenly felt alone.
A shiver quaked my spine.
Quit being a baby. I stopped and adjusted my messenger bag across my body while trying to catch my breath. The Rose Reading Room was gigantic. Sunlight came in through the large arched windows and shone on the metal reading lamps stretching across the rows and rows of long tables. Brown stuccowork with intricate gilt on the ceiling surrounded murals of cloudy skies. Several chandeliers, covered in shadows, lined each side of the room.
The hourglass in my hand was ancient. Made of wood and glass, it seemed fragile, so I gently tucked it into my messenger bag next to the badge and called for the gateway book, not caring who heard or who saw the book fly over to me.
Balconied bookcases surrounded the room. Arik had told me once that he felt the libraries were his secret garden. There was a time when I would have agreed with him, but not anymore. Libraries were beautiful creatures, but they hid unknown dangers behind their bookcases and among their artworks.
Where is it? Come on. I darted looks over my shoulder, my hands sweaty, breath quick, certain Veronique would find me.
There’re too many people. There’re too many.
Stop!
Focus.
I couldn’t put anyone in danger. How was I going to keep them all from getting hurt?
A fire alarm blared through the library.
Agata. She’s causing a diversion.
The people sitting at tables around the room picked up their things and rushed to the door. I shoved my trench coat into my messenger bag. Not too long after, I noticed a faint flapping sound coming from one of the balconies. Another trapped book.
I maneuvered between the tables to a door. Inside were stairs that led to the balcony. I bounded up them and found the book strapped to a bookcase.
“Seriously. This is getting annoying.”
Agata ran into the reading room.
“I’m up here,” I called. She skirted around the row of tables.
I tucked some loose hair behind my ear and spoke the charm to release the book, “Liberato.”
The straps fell away, and the book shot out of the case. I caught it and flipped the pages with shaky fingers.
Something made a crashing sound below, and a fireball flew over my head, hitting the bookcase above me. I spun around.
Another Sentinel had joined Veronique and the original two. He stood in an aisle between the rows of tables, a fire globe blazing in his hand.
Where’s Agata? I dropped to a crouch and peered through the railings. She lay motionless on the floor, a few chairs toppled around her. Ice crackled across her skin; her stare was frozen on the ceiling. Veronica stood over her, a satisfied snarl on her lips.