Page 53 of Killian
“No,” said Killian. “Not particularly. But as you pointed out, we need to get them away from the tree. Once we do that, with an army on our side, we should be able to get the book back and give them the boot.”
“I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” said Moira. “I hate the idea that I could be leading people to their deaths. I don’t know how anyone does it. Uncle Rafe was in World War II. Grandpa fought in lots of wars, I think. But I see these people, and I think each and every one of them is precious. God, if Cynog gets hurt, I will never forgive myself.”
Killian hesitated. He felt like he’d asked that question before. Or at least he had the answer to it and Sebastian’s voice echoed in his ear.
“I was in Afghanistan when my pack told me not to come back.” Sebastian’s profile was a black silhouette against the stark light of the moon reflecting off the ocean. The boat swayed like a hammock, andSebastian adjusted the fishing line as he answered Killian’s question. “Barely eighteen, fresh off the farm, still half bald from boot camp. I barely had control over my wolf. I didn’t know fucking anything about anything. My mom wrote and said there had been a vote. I had a steady job and was old enough to look after myself now, so I shouldn’t come back.” He looked over at Killian, disbelief still evident on his face. “My own mom. She said the pack had to concentrate on finding mates for those that could get them, and they didn’t think I could. So I was out.”
Killian was silent. He had no response for that.
“I thought maybe the Army could be my pack. I tried. I spent ten years in and out of one war zone or another. Maybe those ‘peacekeeping missions’ helped someone, but I wouldn’t know who. It started to be a pattern—go, kill some people that I didn’t know, watch some kid that I did know get shot up, rinse, repeat. It felt like someone’s giant game of checkers. And there was never a winner, just losers that got punted off the board. Then one day, I’d had enough. So I left. I took off all my gear, shifted, and then I ran and never went back. I met Alekos and Pellos in Istanbul. Do you know it was Pellos who found me first? He said, ‘Alekos, I brought home a new brother!’ He was so excited. He was excited to have me in his family. Me. They wanted me. And I thought, well, that won’t last, but it won’t hurt to stick around for a little while. And then one day, we got ourselves in a situation.”
“Like we do,” said Killian, chuckling.
“Like we do,” agreed Sebastian. “And I turned around and some dipshit was pointing a Mac-10 at Alex and Pellos. Which is when I ripped the guy’s arm off and hit him with it.”
“What?” Killian laughed again in surprise.
“I wanted the gun and the adrenalin hit and I may have overreacted. But that was when I realized that the only thing worth dying and fighting over is love. My family and my home—there isn’t much I won’t do for all of you, but I won’t be going to war for politics anymore.”
“We’re leading,” said Killian. “But they would be fighting with or without us. This isn’t politics. This is their home. It’s quite literally their world. They’re fighting because they don’t want any of their friends or family to get hurt, either. I don’t think you could get Cynog not to go unless you tied him up.”
“The pack moves as one,” she said. “I hope,” she added with asigh.
“What?” asked Killian, startled.
“Um… it’s part of an old wolf saying? It means we’re of one purpose. When the pack moves as one, nothing can stand in our way.”
“Oh. Huh. Alekos says that. He just says it in Latin.Iumentis movere ut. nihil potest obstare.”
“I may not remember everything, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say Grandpa’s not big on Latin.”
Killian chuckled but stopped when he saw the Head Librarian sweep into the glade. She looked around as if the entire place was failing to meet standards. Augusta was wearing a chartreuse dress today. It was swoopingly structural, with cutouts in the draped sleeves showing a white underdress. Killian didn’t know what to make of the fashion. It was like she was a walking sculpture.
“Ugh,” said Moira. “Is she ever not grumpy? Hopefully, she doesn’t totally try to change my troop selections.” Moira crossed the glen to meet Augusta, and Killian watched as Moira and Ceallach moved the librarian and her escort guard back toward the path. Augusta looked surprised to find herself being herded, and Killian watched her go with a smile. He thought Augusta probably wasn’t used to having her opinions challenged, but Moira was about to remind her what that felt like.
Killian helped Cynog with the spear some more and then was about to go find Moira when Augusta returned, trailed by a lone bodyguard. She spotted him and walked briskly in his direction, so he stood still to wait for her.
“Well, I have given your mate theBook of the Dead. We tried to find one to your specifications, but to be quite honest, it would be best if you got it back.”
“It is our intention to do that,” said Killian, and Augusta nodded.
“Ceallach and Moira said the same. Ceallach is martialing the arriving forces. We will have several hundred within the next hour, and the other levels will send more as the portals permit. They generally aren’t meant for large amounts of traffic.”
“What about a door to our world?” asked Killian.
“Silvana, the Ianua Librarian, is working on getting one. Usually, they form on the periphery of the library. But with the proper incantations, we can cause one to grow here. She has scouted the potential locations and says the closest she can get is on the far side of the bridge.”
Killian nodded. “OK, so we have to get the warlocks out of the temple, across the glade, across the bridge, and out the door.”
“Or we kill them all,” said Augusta. Killian felt surprised by the librarian’s prosaic tone. “They have attacked the library. They threaten our existence and I am not particularly minded to be merciful to people like that. The Council of Librarians has authorized the use of such spells that would stop human hearts. We have not done such a thing in at least a thousand years. But I will.”
“Not all humans are like this.” Killian felt a sense of foreboding. Mass murder couldn’t be the answer, could it? He was also troubled that part of him simply nodded—there was a part of him that had no trouble with the idea at all.
“I don’t care about all humans,” said Augusta with a shrug. “I’m dealing with these ones now. So do your best, but know that if peaceful resolutions cannot be reached or if things are not going well for us, then we will enact such spells.”
“How long do the spells take to perform?” asked Killian.
“Only a few minutes. Ceallach will carry the signal flag. He will make the decision if we should begin.”
