Assassin of Truths Page 5

  No, no, no, no. She’s dead. Air rushed into my lungs, and I choked back my sobs. I had to get out of there. I crawled to the books strewn across the floor, searching for the gateway book.

  A ball of fire hit the bookcase. Charred books fell from the shelf and burned pages floated around me. I formed my battle globe and tossed it over the railing. The sphere looked like a crystal bubble; I’d never seen that before and wasn’t sure what it would do. It grew as it soared through the air and shattered on a table below, glass spraying up in the air. A large shard stabbed through the man’s throat. A surprised look crossed his face—blood squirting out of the wound—before he crumpled to the ground.

  A fiery glow left him and hit me, heating my body. I patted down my clothes expecting to be on fire, but there was nothing.

  I killed him! I. KILLED. HIM. Bile rose in my throat.

  “Get it together, Gia,” I ordered myself. There wasn’t time for a freak-out. I moved my messenger bag to my back and continued searching through the shelves.

  Flames consumed many of the books. Dark smoke drifted to the ceiling, causing the sprinklers to turn on. A purple sphere exploded by my hand. Call it fear or instinct, but I instantly formed a glass globe and sent it over the railing with great force.

  An agonizing howl came from below. I didn’t dare stop searching, afraid to look. Afraid to see what I’d done, to see another death.

  A purple light rushed me, hitting me in the chest. Crap. He stunned me. But I could breathe. I could move my hands. It didn’t work. My hand touched the familiar fine leather of the gateway book. I wiped the water from my eyes and tossed open the cover.

  Something hit the bookcase to my right. Ice spread across the spines of books on the shelves and snuffed out the burning books on the floor. The water spraying out of the sprinklers froze and dropped, pelting me, stinging my exposed skin. I found the page to the Dublin library and stood, hunched over to make myself less of a target.

  Veronique threw a fire globe. It hit my shoulder and part of my chest, catching my vest on fire.

  “Shit,” I yelled and tugged it off. Pain seared my shoulder. Thankfully, my breastplate had taken the brunt of the assault. During my distraction, the girl Sentinel had climbed onto the balcony. She charged at me, tossing another ice globe. I dodged it, and an explosion of ice and snow fell around me.

  I didn’t want to kill the girl, so I hesitated to throw another globe at her. Squaring my shoulders, I got ready for her attack. When the girl got close enough, I threw a kick to her gut and slammed my fist against her jaw. She stumbled back against the frozen railing. It broke free, and she fell over the side, landing on a table below. Her body was half on and half off the table, her neck bent at an odd angle and the bones underneath pushed against her skin.

  Is she dead?

  A shimmery light left the girl’s body and flew to me, smacking my chest. I took a step back, expecting to turn into a human Popsicle, but nothing happened, only a chill that rushed across my skin and quickly ended.

  “You killed her,” Veronique yelled as she stepped up on a chair and onto a table. She charged the length of it, heading for me.

  I dropped to my knees and flipped through the pages of the gateway book. My heart galloped like a thousand racehorses on steroids. I needed to escape.

  Where do I go? I can’t lead her to the others. I stopped on the photograph of the Boston Athenæum. Home? To Nana. Afton. No. Veronique knew where Nana Kearns lived. I couldn’t risk going there. I tossed over more pages.

  Just then, Veronique pulled herself up onto the balcony and let loose another fire globe. The flames licked the air and smoke trailed it like a comet. The fire grazed my cheek, pulling a sharp gasp from my chest.

  Her breaths were loud—panting. The sound of a siren drew nearer. We’d have company soon.

  A feral look on her face, Veronique plucked a dagger from her shoulder sheath. A velvet bag, weighed down by something heavy inside, was tied around her waist.

  The other Chiavi? I had to get them. I grasped the strap of my messenger bag.

  “You can’t win, Gia. You’re weak. Unskilled. A sniveling child.”

  “I beat your ass, and I took care of your friends.” Meaning the three Sentinels lying dead on the floor below us. I forced my eyes to stay on hers, acting brave, though their deaths were like an overweight barbell on my conscience.

  Her step forward caused me to step back. “That was dumb luck,” she said. “This will take skill.”

  She ran for me. I drew my sword and swung at her. She ducked, the blade barely missing her. Before I could get another swing in, she tackled me, our bodies smacking into the bookcase, my sword knocked from my hand.

  A satisfied look crossed Veronique’s face right before she stabbed my upper arm with her dagger. Her blade cut across my cheek. A horrified scream rattled my throat. My knees buckled and thudded against the floor.

  “Shit!” The pain shocked me. I wanted to roll into a ball on the floor, to have this end.

  She’s going to kill me. I’m going to die.

  Fear gripped me.

  Then anger.

  Fight, Gia! The voice in my head was strong and forceful. It pushed me. Pushed me to my feet.

  Pushed me to take action.

  Your globe. Stop her before she takes you down.

  I ignited one and busted it against her thigh, the glass pieces cutting into her leg.

  She shrieked and teetered backward.

  Dropping to a squat, I spun around and sweep-kicked her calves, knocking her to the floor. Her head slammed against the ground.

  She laid there, unmoving.

  “Unskilled,” I spit out like a distasteful word. “Who’s unskilled now?”

  She started to move.

  With pain shocking my shoulder, cheek, and chest, I opened the gateway book and collapsed on top of it. I couldn’t move anymore. My arms and legs shook. Blood trickled down my cheek and into my mouth, and I tasted copper on my tongue.

  “Aprire la porta,” I said and hugged my bag to my chest, then remembered the Chiavi tied to Veronique. I felt a tug across my entire body. “No. Stop.” A swirling wind engulfed me and dragged me into the page.

  Veronique jumped in after me and wrapped her arm around my neck, clinging to my back as we fell through the pitch-black void.

  Chapter Four

  The air rushing across me cooled my burning cheek. Blood from the wound in my shoulder soaked my sleeve. Fear rocked my bones, and I wanted to give up, just let the dark take me somewhere else, not there, not in the gateway of hell with Veronique. Her fist connected hard against my side and knocked me to my senses.

  She can’t win.

  I threw my elbow back and clipped her chin.

  Veronique lost hold of me and spun away.

  Unable to see where she was, I formed a light globe and tossed it in front of me. The sphere flew with us, illuminating the gateway.

  Veronique struggled to unsheathe the Chiave sword. I threw my battle globe to stop her. It barely missed her, so I threw another, and it shattered against her side.

  Her shriek sounded over the wailing wind, and she lost hold of her sword. The blade careened past me and nicked my thigh.

  I broke through the gateway and landed hard on a marble floor. Books from a nearby case scattered around me, and my light globe popped at my side.

  The handle of the Chiave tapped the tiles at the same time Veronique landed on top of it, the blade impaling her chest.

  Glass rained down on us, several pieces embedding into my skin, and I winced.

  With some effort, I crawled to her. My stomach rose and fell like an angry sea at the sight of the blood pulsing out from where the sword had pushed through her breastbone. The blade shook with each of Veronique’s shocked breaths.

  No words came to me. My mind was numb, but my body was alive with pain.

  A gurgling sound came from her mouth.

  Veronique coughed, her bright blue eyes focused on me
. “Don’t be weak, Gia. You’re a Sentinel for the Wizard Council. I would have killed you.” Her breathing went shallow, and her next words came out quiet and pained. “We are all between good and evil. Make sure yours is the right side—” A cough cut off her words. “They lie to you. Seek The Red. He knows—” Her final breath cut off her words.

  She’s dead. Her stare had frozen, her body was bloodied and stiff, and she was still beautiful. I’d never know why she wanted me to find The Red. I didn’t know where the beefy Laniar lived. My eyes slid back to her.

  The sadness surprised me. She’d killed Kale, after all, and tried to kill me. She deserved to die. But as I stared at her face, I could see a six-year-old girl training to be a killer like her father wanted. Trying to please him while he used her. Most likely, she’d never received love. Not like the Pop kind of love that I grew up with.

  Forget her. Wipe it away.

  A Monitor had to have picked up her jump. I had to get out of there before someone came to investigate. But I had to get the Chiavi, and one was sticking out of Veronique’s chest. I untied the velvet bag and removed it from her waist. I opened it, and the other Chiavi and ancient spell book were inside.

  My eyes slid to the sword. The blade had gone all the way through her chest. Her back was lifted a little, propped up by the handle sticking out the other side.

  “Okay. I can do this. There’re two worlds full of people at stake.”

  I heaved her onto her side and grasped the handle of the sword. With my eyes closed, I took a deep breath and yanked and yanked and yanked until the sword was free. A slurping, then a gushing sound came from her. Blood pooled around her, and I recoiled from it, my back crashing into a bookcase.

  Blood ran down the sword. There was nothing to wipe it clean except a corner of Veronique’s trench coat. I ran the blade across the material, slid it into my empty scabbard, and tied the velvet bag to my belt.

  I went over to the gateway book, my fingers trembling. Blood dripped from my sleeve and hit the pages. I flipped all the pages, leaving bloody prints on each so no one could tell that I’d jumped to the Boston Athenæum.

  The library was quiet when I landed. Its familiarity was welcoming—like coming home. I struggled down the stairs, my injuries causing me to wince with each labored step. There was a phone at the reception desk, and I used it to dial Nana Kearns’s number. It rang five times, and I was about to hang up when someone answered.

  “Hello?” a girl’s voice came through the receiver.

  “Katy—Katy Kearns.” My voice sounded scratchy. I swallowed. “Is she there?”

  “No. Who is this?”

  I recognized that voice.

  “Emily?”

  Hearing her brought back memories of Arik breaking up with me to go out with her. She’d used a charm, becoming his puppet master, pulling the strings to make him do things he never would’ve if not for her evil, devious plans.

  “Gia, is that you?”

  Nana wasn’t there. I needed help. She’d have to do.

  “I’m hurt. Can you come and get me?” I wanted to lie down, close my eyes, and pretend this night hadn’t happened.

  “You’re hurt?” Emily said, panic in her voice. “Oh my gosh, how bad is it?”

  “I’ll be fine. Just come now.”

  “Where are you?”

  “The Athenæum. Meet me at the graveyard.”

  “Be right there.” She hung up, and I dropped the phone.

  At least the charmed keycard Arik had given me unlocked the library’s door on the first try. The rest of the night had gone horribly wrong, and this little thing working gave me hope. I slipped outside and hobbled to the street, then up Beacon to Tremont. It wasn’t a very long walk to the Granary Burying Grounds, but with all my wounds, it was laborious. The velvet bag holding the Chiavi grew heavy as I grew weaker. The rope tied around my wrist dug into my skin. I waited for an older couple walking a Pomeranian to pass before unlocking the gate and entering the graveyard.

  Weak and tired, I hid behind one of the stone columns of the arched entrance. The grave markers were silent concrete bodies lined up in the ground and cloaked in darkness, some of them seeming to lean in sadness against the others.

  With my back resting on the wall, I slid down and sat on the ground. I closed my eyes, just wanting to sleep. Maybe when I woke up, this nightmare would’ve been a dream, and the pain would be gone.

  Don’t sleep.

  I pushed myself back to my feet. If I was standing, I couldn’t fall asleep.

  Nearly forty minutes later, a small white car pulled up to the curb and stopped. The passenger window whirred and screeched open.

  “Gia,” Emily called, somewhat louder than a whisper.

  I dragged my beaten body out from behind the gate and hobbled to the car. Every bit of me ached as I settled into the passenger seat.

  “You look bad.” She switched the car into drive and sped off. “What happened?”

  The world spun, and my stomach reeled. “Veronique. She attacked me.”

  “Oh no,” she said. “I will kill her one day, I swear.”

  “Too late. She’s dead…” I trailed off as the darkness squeezed around me.

  …

  Something cool and wet dragged across my forehead, and I opened my eyes to see Emily staring down at me. I tried to sit up, but she gently pushed me back down. I recognized the antique dresser and squeaky double bed. They were from Nana Kearns’s guest room, but I wasn’t in the room in Mission Hills. The windows were different and on the wrong side of the room.

  Emily’s dark hair was pulled back, and the frown she was giving me wrinkled her forehead and moved her widow’s peak. “Don’t get up,” she said. “I have Nana’s gunk holding your wounds closed.”

  “Where is she?” My voice sounded like I had swallowed a handful of gravel. I pushed myself up the pillows to sit.

  Emily grabbed a glass of water off the nightstand. “In Seattle. She’s trying to get a flight home. I’m supposed to keep you down and cool. You’re a mess, and you have a high fever.”

  “This isn’t her house. Did she move?”

  “Yes,” Emily said, handing me the glass. “They sent us into hiding for our safety. We’re in Jamaica Plains. It’s a pretty cool place.”

  “Nana has the same phone number. Someone can track you here.”

  “She didn’t want to change numbers in case you called. She placed a ward on the line. No one can trace it back to this house.”

  “You said they sent you into hiding. Who are they?”

  Her eyebrow rose slightly as she gave me a concerned look. “Asile’s guards, of course. Why do you ask?”

  Did they know Pop’s and Afton’s locations, too? I’d been hiding from everyone for months, except Uncle Philip. Veronique had said she’d learned my whereabouts from a spy. Having Asile know where my family and friends were sat uneasily in my mind.

  “Nothing,” I said. “I’m just groggy. How long have I been sleeping?”

  “About three days.”

  I took several sips of water from the glass and handed it back to her.

  She placed her palm on my forehead. “Man, you’re boiling.”

  “I feel fine,” I said.

  “That’s because I poured a great deal of Nana’s elixir down your throat. You should be floating.” She placed the glass on the nightstand and picked up one of Nana’s jars of ointment.

  I was definitely floating. My arm felt heavy as I touched the gauze taped to my cheek.

  “See, all your moving around opened that shoulder wound.” She must’ve noticed the worry on my face because she paused. “Give it time to heal. The scar should be faint. A little makeup will hide it.”

  A little? I doubted it. It was a pretty deep gash. But I appreciated her attempt at easing my fears. “Nana’s been training you well, huh?” I said.

  Her fingers plunged into the gunk, and she dabbed a blob of it onto the wound in my shoulder. “Listen, I know yo
u don’t like me. I’m so sorry about Arik. I would never have placed that spell on him. It wasn’t me, you know? It was that Bane Witch’s spirit Conemar used to possess me.”

  We’d gone over this before. “I know. It’s fine. Stop stressing about it.”

  “I just want to make it up to you,” she said.

  “You are right now,” I said. “I have to get back to the hideout.”

  “You’re safe here. Only Carrig knows where you are. Nana said you are to stay put. Her words, not mine.”

  Someone came in the room, but I couldn’t see who it was with Emily blocking my view. “Oh, I forgot you have a visitor. He’s been waiting for you to wake up.”

  Arik? Great. He was going to be pissed at me. I should have just jumped into the library and grabbed the Chiave. Going after Gian’s canister without help was careless.

  Emily stood and crossed the room, passing him as she went out the door. He walked over and sat on the chair Emily had just vacated.

  Bastien’s smile stopped my breath. It was as if I’d been in the dark so long and the sun finally came out. His blue eyes held so much concern. Tears formed on my lashes, the sight of him overwhelming me. I wasn’t sure he was real. With great effort, I reached a hand out to him, and he grasped it, his touch speeding up my heart.

  “You’re here… I thought… Carrig…” My words were as broken as my thoughts. As broken as my body.

  “We had left shortly before the attack.” His head lowered, and he stared at the folded paper bag in his other hand. “If I’d known you were… Well, I’m here now.”

  “There was a woman with me, Agata.” My chest tightened at the thought of her lying motionless on the library’s floor.

  The expression on his face was as solemn as his voice sounded. “She’s recovering in Mantello. The curers believe she’ll make a full recovery.”

  “She’s okay?” A shaky laugh escaped me, relief loosening my chest.

  “She is.”

  “How did you get here? You could’ve—”

  “Nothing could keep me away.” Bastien let go of my hand and placed his open palm on my uninjured cheek. “I was so worried.”