Page 102 of The Book that Broke the World

“Hurry!” Clovis shouted over the approaching storm.

They didn’t stop until they reached the reading room and as they carried him Evar wondered if the Mechanism might not be the way for Livira and the others to escape what was coming.

Clovis finally laid him before the Mechanism and Livira fought to his side. The anger on her face melted as she understood the seriousness of his injury. “We need pressure on the wound, front and back!” She took his knife in a trembling hand and started to cut strips from her robe; Evar tried to apologise again for his weakness, but could only cough, speckling Livira’s now-pale face in crimson.

Others reached them. Clovis stalked around Evar as Livira and Jella fussed at the holes the stick-shot had left in him. Evar let his head loll and observed proceedings, strangely distant both from his pain and from his fear. Only concern about Livira still ached within him, the rest he could slip away from—he could fall through the floor like when he was a ghost, leave it all behind him. But her tears would fall, and he would feel them no matter how deep he sank.

The Mechanism had released Yute and his daughter, but more than that it had given up two others who had presumably answered the summons before Evar’s party arrived. Standing on the opposite side of the Mechanism’s white door to that chosen by Yute and Yolanda were Mayland and Starval, one tall and golden, the other short, dark, and watchful.

If Yute and Yolanda held any enmity for the canith who had murdered their wife and mother respectively, none of it showed on their faces. Yute looked sad rather than vengeful. His daughter appeared pensive and, like Starval, watchful, though her focus seemed to take in more than just what might be visible to others.

Many from Yute’s party had gathered around him at the Mechanism. Evar knew they would be telling him that the automaton was coming, burdening the white almost-human with their fears, seeking reassurance. Evar doubted Yute had any to give.

Starval came the other way rapidly, elbowing Livira aside to reach Evar. He snapped a sharp glance up at Clovis. “What have— How could you let this happen?”

Clovis made no reply, her own gaze fixed on Yute, the person who had sent Oanold and his followers to her chamber. Evar let his head roll back and took her in. Even from this unusual angle he could see the fury rising through her. Oanold’s troops were the bullet that had torn through her life, but the finger on the trigger had been Yute’s.

Starval tapped Evar’s chest. “The lung’s flooded.”

A sudden lancing pain made Evar gasp and choke. He looked down, thinking he’d been stabbed, only to discover that he was right. Starval had thrust between his ribs what looked like a thin silver rod.

“It’s draining the blood?” Livira snarled, her mastery of their language drawing a surprised look from Starval.

“Yes.”

Evar saw that the rod was a tube. He doubted that Starval carried it to save lives, but there was a crimson stream at the far end, and whilst it seemed that as a general rule blood should be kept on the inside, in this instance it did seem to be helping Evar catch his breath.

Clovis stopped her pacing. “I should go.” She looked at him and Evar saw her conflict. “I’m no good here. Arpix needs me.”

Evar would have told her that she was doing good. That she had saved him, and her presence made him stronger. But she was right. Arpix did need her. He managed a small nod and without another word Clovis was gone.

The pounding charge out in the main chamber ended in a huge crash, but one that didn’t end as suddenly as it came. Instead, the initial collision became a prolonged rending of metal. The automaton had discovered that with sufficient run-up its momentum would carry it a considerable distance through the shelf-towers.

The tearing began to slow, but even if the automaton didn’t reach them on this charge, it seemed likely that it might win through on the next effort.

“Will it save him?” Livira asked Starval as soon as her voice could be heard.

“No.” Starval looked towards Mayland. “He needs a centre circle. Or a proper doctor. And soon.”

Starval’s attention returned to Evar and, in a whisper, Evar asked the question that had been eating him ever since Mayland snapped the head librarian’s neck. “Why, brother? Why take Jaspeth’s side? You want to destroy the library?” He coughed and less blood came up than before. “Mayland killed that human. She was no threat.”

Starval raised an eyebrow in a show of surprise, though his dark eyes held something like hurt, shame even, as if the question was a blow he’d been expecting. “You should understand, Evar. You more than anyone. They kept us trapped our whole lives, brother. You didn’t even have that”—he pointed at the Mechanism without looking at it—“for a kind of escape.” He shook his head. “This place is an anchor around our necks. Around everyone’s neck. Shouldn’t we be allowed to forget? We have to be burdened by the memory of... everything?”

“And the librarian?”

“Have you tried omelette yet?”

Evar frowned his confusion.

“There’s so much out there, Evar. Almost all of it good to eat. Eggs.” He shaped one with finger and thumb making an oval. “Beautiful things. Perfectly designed. Full of slime that will turn into a bird if you let it. But break them and you can make an omelette, and if you’d tasted one, you’d be breaking eggs. That human—”

“She wasn’t an egg, Starval.” The words hissed weakly from him, but Evar saw his brother flinch under their weight.

The automaton began another charge and conversation rapidly became impossible.

Kerrol looked towards the entrance and shouted over the din. “It’s going to be in here soon. Can we go back in?” He pointed to the Mechanism.

Evar couldn’t hear what Yolanda said but he could see her shake her head. The audience was over; the rules were back in play. Starval patted Evar’s shoulder and stood, turning as he did so. He ran back to Mayland, and Evar watched the pair arguing for a moment before Livira seized his attention, literally. She took his mane in both hands, kneeling beside him, and steered his face towards hers, close enough that she didn’t have to shout.

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