Page 156 of The Book That Wouldn't Burn

Clunk-clunk-clunk. More footsteps from the same direction, lost inside the smoke. Clunk-clunk-clunk. The swirling cloud was nearly on them now. A second black assistant, this one bearing a black sword, emerged and collapsed beside the first just as the smoke rolled over the pair. Evar pulled the others down towards Volente, who waited patiently in the clearing before the corridor. As they landed, just ahead of the smoke, the sound of running started again.

“The Escapes are trying to hold on to them both,” Livira said, following Volente down the corridor. “Keeping them out of the fire. But they can only move one of them at a time.”

“They’re saving them?” Malar asked.

“For their own purposes. Greed maybe. Or for whatever master they serve, so they can fill both with Escapes.”

“Jaspeth,” Evar said.

“What?”

“Jaspeth. Irad’s brother. That’s what your Yute said. Irad made the library and the assistants to tend it for him. Jaspeth opposes the library, and the Escapes are his servants, trying to tear it down.”

“Do they really need to?” Malar asked. “It’s burning, in case you didn’t notice.”

“It’s always burning somewhere,” Livira pointed out. “Yute said that too. But it’s just the books that burn. And the shelves. The assistants restock, and people like us, creatures like us, rebuild. That was the compromise to stop the war—the library’s vulnerable, difficult, inconvenient, but eternal.”

—

Chamber 68 looked so much like the chamber they’d just come from that it hardly seemed they were making progress.

“We need to speed this up. There’s no reason we can’t go faster.” Livira scowled down at her feet as if they were the problem.

“We just need to believe it?” Malar raised an eyebrow that suggested he hadn’t forgiven either of them for the flying yet. “What about the dog? We can’t go faster than our guide.”

“They can’t be far, surely?” Evar wasn’t certain on the timings but there didn’t seem to be a way for Arpix and the others to have outdistanced the canith by much more than they already had. There was a limit to the advantage that knowledge of the layout would give them.

“Go on, Volente.” Livira waved the dog on and, steeling herself, plunged after him through the next bookshelf.

Evar clenched himself against the unpleasant feel of passing through dozens of books and followed. It turned out that every time they tried to overtake Volente, he sped up, and when they sped up, he accelerated again. Evar had never run so fast. He found it both exhilarating, a release after the tensions of the day, and frightening. However often he reminded himself he was a ghost, his brain told him that running flat out with almost no forward vision was bound to end in disaster.

The process ended abruptly. The pursuit of Volente’s fleeing hindquarters through a blur of shelves suddenly became a solo journey. Evar willed himself to stop and came to a halt in an anonymous aisle. Some way off behind him a mix of screams and exclamations drew his attention.

“Volente!” Someone was excitedly calling the hound’s name.

“That sounds like Arpix!” Livira emerged through the nearest wall of shelves. “Except for the excitement.”

Evar followed Livira as she ran towards the voices, passing through shelf after shelf with a shuddering thrill until they broke into the chamber’s centre circle.

Livira fell to her knees, laughter and tears bursting from her, trampling each other in the fight to get out.

“They’re all here?”

Livira nodded, breathless with emotion, reaching for Evar’s arm as she stood again. “All of them. That’s Arpix hugging Volente. Meelan right beside him.” She pointed out two females of solid build sprawled exhausted on the floor. “Jella and Salamonda. The rest are other library staff, bookbinders mostly.” She pointed out two older males. “Mika and Regg are cleaners.” Finally, she swung her finger towards a robed female whose vibrant orangey hair in glorious disarray somewhat reminded Evar of Clovis’s red mane. “And that’s Master Jost.” Livira’s voice suggested a measure of distaste for the woman staring in disbelief at the newly arrived giant dog.

With uncharacteristic restraint, Livira didn’t throw herself at her friends. Instead, she joined in the general praising of Volente, who at least could be touched by ghosts and people alike. Evar held back, looking for Malar, who stumbled through the nearest shelf moments later, shivering and wiping at his arms as if spiderwebs were clinging to him.

“What now?” The warrior looked up at Evar, his eyes haunted by the concern they both had: that Livira would be forced to abandon her friends or watch as the fire caught them.

“We could steer them to safety with Volente,” Evar said. “He’s the link. If we can get him to go, they’ll follow. But is anywhere safe?” In order to begin to answer his own question Evar took to the air. Hopefully the fire hadn’t reached the chamber yet, but they knew smoke was pouring in from 47.

“What can you see?” Malar jumped after Evar and fell back with an oath.

“Nothing good...” Evar made a full rotation. It didn’t seem possible but there were smoke clouds around all four entrances to the chamber. “Is someone spreading it?”

“Which way out?” Malar called.

Evar dropped down to join him. He couldn’t bring himself to speak. It seemed answer enough for Malar.

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