Assassin of Truths Page 4

  “Rules,” she said without her strong French accent. Her blond hair was longer and twisted in a braid. The smug look on her face deepened the corners of her mouth. “Once you learn to break them, Gianna, you’ll be the warrior Agnost believed you would be.”

  Agnost. I hadn’t heard his name in a long time. Not since I first learned about the Mystik world. Nearly two hundred years ago, he had predicted that a child born of two Sentinels would be the coming of the end. And because my parents couldn’t resist each other, I was the lucky winner of that gene pool.

  I had to stall her. Figure out an escape. “Where’s your accent?” Dumb question for a time like this, but it did put her off guard a little.

  “A charm.” Her eyes followed me as I eased right, hoping to find a way around her. “It helps me blend in—not get noticed.”

  I highly doubted she’d ever go unnoticed.

  “What happened to you?” I backed up, the heels of my boots stopping against the kneeling step. “Why did you decide to join Conemar?”

  She took a step toward me, her hand still resting on the hilt of her sword. “You’ve risked all to save the ones you love. Do you think I am different from you?”

  She meant Bastien and Gian. To save them, I had thrown my globe at the trap door into the Somnium where we’d been stuck, releasing all the evil creatures imprisoned there. My stupid actions started what could be the destruction of both worlds. I had risked everything for them, without knowing the consequences.

  “Why did you join Conemar? You’re a Sentinel. Trained to stop men like him.”

  “Because I’m his daughter,” she said.

  I swore my jaw hit the floor.

  “You’re his daughter?”

  “You heard me.”

  I just stared at her, waiting for my mind to catch up.

  Why did no one know this? Or if they did, why hadn’t they told me? I had to keep her talking. Distract her so I could figure out an escape.

  “How could Conemar hide that you’re his daughter from the council?”

  She answered, “My father replaced a Sentinel with me when we were infants. Poor thing is at the bottom of a lake, weighed down with rocks. At six, when my magic hadn’t come in, he had my parent faery convince the council that all I needed was private training.”

  Bastien had mentioned she’d trained with a private coach in the French countryside.

  “Wait. Then how do you have a battle globe?”

  She glanced down at her hand, and I took the opportunity to do a quick scan around her. I could go to her left. There was more room on that side.

  “I’m a daughter of a wizard. I have little magic, but I can make fire look like a globe.” Her fingertips sparked. She stretched her fingers out, studying her hand. “Damn it. There’s a charm over the chapel. I suppose the sword will have to do.”

  “So that means you’re Nick’s sister.” The thought made my stomach feel like I’d eaten a bag full of sour grapes. “Have you seen him?”

  Her head popped up. Hatred flared in her eyes, and her grin vanished from her lips. “I know what you’re trying to do. Distract me. There’s no escape. The cathedral is surrounded by Sentinels more skilled than you are. Hand over all the Chiavi, and perhaps your death will be quick and somewhat painless.”

  All the Chiavi? She thinks I have more than one. “I don’t have them all.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I should have been clearer.” Her voice carried a sinister tone. “I only need the final two. We have the rest. And that ancient book, too.”

  My heart sank. “How—?” I couldn’t speak. The other Chiavi were in Asile, locked in a safe. In the high wizard’s chambers. Uncle Philip’s chambers.

  “How do you think?” She leaned forward. “We took them. Not but an hour ago. Asile is less a few guards and a Sentinel,” she said. “I’ll let your mind process that information. Wonder who could have perished in the attack. Was it someone you know?”

  Oh no—Carrig? He was to meet Bastien in Asile, bring him to the hideout in Ireland. I wanted to crumple to the floor. Please don’t be Carrig. My throat swelled, and I swallowed hard. Crying was not an option. I couldn’t let her see she’d punched my weak spot.

  Focus, Gia!

  A fire burned in my stomach, consuming and angry. I wanted to crush her. But just over her shoulder, I could see tourists in the middle of the chapel, sitting in pews, clicking pictures on their phones, and I took a deep breath and released it slowly. There were innocent people around. I couldn’t risk them getting hurt.

  “It’s my lucky day,” Veronique continued, her hand going to the hilt of her sword. I recognized the intricate woven metal on the hilt—the Chiave. “I was on my way to deliver our spoils from the attack to daddy dearest when my spy found me with information about your whereabouts.”

  Someone told her where I’d be. Who?

  “There’s security here.” I grasped the hilt of my sword. “They have guns.”

  A sinister snarl twisted her lips. “Not to worry. They’ll be taken care of.”

  She started to pull her sword out of its scabbard just as a large group of men and women wearing choir robes cut between us.

  I needed to take her by surprise. My boots scraped against the tiles as I got into my kickboxing stance—left foot forward, feet shoulder distance apart, fists up to my cheekbones, elbows in by my sides.

  The last two women passed.

  I charged at Veronique. A jab to her face. Cross punch to her cheek.

  The tourists who witnessed my attack gasped and backed away from us, but I didn’t let the commotion distract me.

  An uppercut to her ribs.

  Veronique stumbled.

  A side kick to her chest.

  She flew back and collided with the pews.

  Boots hitting the tile floor sounded to my left. A man and a woman Sentinel headed our way.

  In the pew, Veronique struggled to get up. I readied my stance again.

  Someone grasped my arm and pulled me back through an opening in the wall. The bricks slid into place again, sealing me in a darkened room with a stranger.

  What was going on? Veronique had the other Chiavi. I had to get them from her.

  Slamming my palms against the stone, I shouted, “Wait! Let me out.” I faced whoever had dragged me in there and ignited a light globe on my palm. The priest who had passed me twice in front of the altar stood there with a sympathetic look on his face.

  “The others with her were coming for you,” he said. “They would have killed you.”

  “But she has something I need. Something dangerous.” I pushed on the wall. “I have to stop her.”

  “This way.” He nodded for me to follow him.

  I hesitated, glancing at the wall.

  As though he had read my thoughts, the priest lightly touched my arm. “There will be another opportunity to acquire what you’ve lost.”

  He was right. I had to move forward. “All right,” I said. “Lead the way.”

  He bowed his head and started down a tunnel.

  “You know of the Mystik world?” I asked.

  “The church has always known of it. The Vatican remained as a bridge between the human and Mystik worlds when the latter went into hiding.”

  Our footfalls echoed through the tight passageway. “How did you know I was here?”

  He rushed along at a brisk pace. “Antonio alerted me. Said he owed you.”

  Alarm bells went off in my head. If both Veronique and Antonio knew my location, I wasn’t as stealthy as I thought I was. “Then how did Antonio know?”

  “Because of the recent attacks on humans, the Vatican has guards posted at many of the libraries during hours of operation. They wear street clothes to blend in, so you wouldn’t have noticed him or her.”

  “I see.” Guess it’s not a good idea to jump during the day. “Well, next time you speak to Antonio, thank him for me.”

  “I will.”

  I really hadn’t done much to save th
e Vatican’s Sentinel during an attack in a library several months ago, only thrown my pink globe to protect him from a fireball that Nick had unleashed, which had been about to hit Antonio.

  I followed the priest through the maze of tunnels until we came to a stairwell with stone steps.

  “Do you know what happened in Asile?” I hoped that maybe he’d heard something.

  He kept glancing over his shoulder as he spoke. “Yes, Antonio told me. He keeps me up-to-date on Mystik news. He said a small group had attacked the castle. Killed several guards and a Sentinel. They broke into the high wizard’s chambers and took something valuable.”

  “Did Antonio give you a name of the Sentinel who died?”

  “It was an older man,” he said. “Just out of retirement.”

  Carrig had never retired. He remained as an instructor after his term of duty. It couldn’t be him. Thank God, he’s okay. The intense feeling of relief caused tears to gather in my eyes, and I turned my head so the priest wouldn’t see, wiping them away with my fingertips.

  We ended up at another tunnel, and the priest climbed into a golf cart. I got in on the other side. He turned the key, pushed on the gas, and the cart bumped down the tunnel.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “You may call me Father Peter,” he said.

  The headlights illuminated the rock walls, and dank air hit my face. We traveled for about ten minutes before the cart coasted to a stop. He scrambled out, and I followed him up a narrow staircase until it came to a dead end.

  He placed his hands on the wall and leaned forward to look through a peephole. “This is the public library. You have a head start. The cathedral’s security will detain Veronique and her gang for as long as possible.”

  When I didn’t answer, he looked back at me, and I nodded that I understood.

  He returned his eye to the peephole. “Ah, here she is. Time for you to go.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you,” I said.

  “No need.” His smile was full of warmth. “It is I who should be thanking you. Without you, we are all lost.”

  “I’m scared I’ll fail everyone,” I said, so quietly I wasn’t sure a mouse could hear me, let alone Father Peter.

  “I have faith in you, Gianna.” Wow, he had good hearing. “You are more than a prediction. If ever you or yours need a place to hide, come here. There is a tiny silver starburst at the bottom on both sides of the wall: push it, and this door will open.” He bent over and pressed it. The wall slid aside, making an entry into the library.

  The Italian woman from the bathroom earlier, wearing gray plaid pants with a red scarf tied around her neck, was on the other side of the wall.

  “Good day, Father,” she said before nodding at me. “Gianna.”

  “Thank you for meeting us,” Father Peter said. “Gianna, this is Agata. She will help you from here.”

  She turned, looking left, then right. “The library is still open. We should be on our way before someone sees this door.”

  He gave me a warm smile, the wrinkles at the edges of his eyes deepening. My bet was that he must smile often to have such deep lines. “Now go,” he said.

  “Thank you.” I ducked through the opening.

  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 i
n 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.