Page 21 of The Book that Broke the World

Evar coughed on dust, panted, coughed again, carried on panting as he hefted aside rocks from fist-sized to head-sized. His arms trembled with fatigue and his hands both ached and stung. Behind him, Kerrol and Clovis cleared rubble, waiting their turn at the digging front. A new scent was what first alerted Evar to a change ahead. The breeze came later, along with a whisper of sunlight. But at first there was only the smell of freedom, faint strains of life, and the arid tang of desert.

The final squeeze proved rib-scraping and had Evar had a richer, more plentiful diet he wouldn’t have made it through. He emerged in a small avalanche of pebbles and crawled from beneath a shelf of rock into dazzling sunlight. Rather than standing, he continued to crawl then sprawled exhausted on the nearest piece of mountainside flat enough to receive him.

Soon all three of them lay side by side, their manes dust-white as if they were true siblings from the same litter.

“It’s not the same,” Kerrol said at last.

“No,” Clovis said, her face still covered with one arm.

“What isn’t?” Evar asked.

“The Mechanism,” Kerrol said. “It’s close, but this is more real. I can feel every corner of this rock digging into me, and the wind is doing different things to the hairs on one arm than the other, and the sun... it’s just... hotter, brighter. More real.”

“Oh.” Evar said no more but he was glad in a way, glad that he could have shown them both something new, and that reality had something to offer that the dreams of the Mechanism couldn’t capture.

Some time passed as they lay, adjusting to the light, the temperature, and the wind. Evar had only ever left the library as a ghost and these things were all new to him too. Clovis was the first to sit up.

“We need water, then food, then shelter.” She shaded her eyes and gazed around. “Is that this city of yours?”

Evar sat up. “No.” The ruins she was looking at were too small for the city he’d seen, and surely too weathered. “Maybe some sort of fort to keep the canith from using this entrance to the library.” He frowned. “But why would the canith build their city outside the human entrance?”

Kerrol sat up, squinting and yawning. “Because the humans built one there and it was easier to take it, then hike to this entrance from there? Or to use humans to open the closer door? I suppose it depends on what fraction of the citizens are going to want to come into the library on a regular basis. From what you’ve said about the humans it was almost none of them.”

“So, where’s the city you were in?” Clovis asked.

Evar stood slowly and scanned the surrounding peaks. To his left the ground sloped away, trailing to a grey-brown plain whose distances lay beneath impenetrable haze. “It’s hard to say.” He had studied the mountains when he had first left the library, but out of fascination rather than a desire to locate himself at some future time. And he wasn’t used to seeing huge objects from different angles. “Maybe... over there?” He flapped a hand vaguely down the gorge to the right.

“We should find water down there at least?” Kerrol shaded his eyes and stared as if willing it into being. “I mean, the stuff runs downhill. That’s how rivers work.”

“Come on.” Clovis started to lead the way down towards the gorge, her usual poise deserting her on sloping ground after a life lived on the level. “We can’t just wait here.”

—

The sun swung through the sky, swirling their shadows around them as they laboured across the fractured landscape. Kerrol was the first to flag. Evar’s siblings had been trained by the Mechanism and weren’t literally jumping at their own shadows as he’d been in the Exchange, but Kerrol’s interests had always been cerebral rather than physical and the unaccustomed exercise was taking its toll.

“Wait here.” Clovis pointed to the shadow of a large rock. “Evar and I will go up to that ridge and see if he’s right about where we are.”

Kerrol didn’t bother to argue. He wasn’t given to pride—perhaps a side effect of deconstructing personality to such a degree. Also, it didn’t take his particular skill set to understand that Clovis wasn’t in the mood for negotiating.

Evar knew he was needed as the one most able to ensure they weren’t seen by hostile eyes. If Starval were there, then... but Starval wasn’t there. As they climbed, Evar tried to keep his thoughts on his surroundings and what Starval had taught him about concealment in such places, rather than thinking about Starval himself. His brother had vanished with Mayland, seemingly recruited to his plans for destroying the library. Mayland, who Evar had thought was dead, appeared to have simply found out how to escape before Evar did, and to have left all his siblings to carry on in their prison while he went exploring. Evar hadn’t yet decided how he felt about any of that.

The sinking sun had stretched every shadow until one started to meet the next. Again, Evar couldn’t help thinking of Starval. He’d have loved every bit of this. Evar, on the other hand, rather than loving it, was terrified that his education in such matters would prove inadequate and he’d let some enemy see them.

The last time Evar had seen his brother was with his knife at Mayland’s neck. Mayland in turn had held the neck of an assistant who had abandoned immortality in favour of involving herself in humanity’s affairs, and by extension those of the canith. Whether she counted as an innocent, Evar couldn’t tell. But she had certainly been helpless, and it had hurt Evar to see Mayland kill her, especially with so little emotion. Starval, rapidly changing his approach, had killed a human to protect their brother, and then all hell had broken loose in the Exchange and Evar had fled, meaning to save Livira. He hoped Mayland and Starval had kept each other safe, and that Starval hadn’t let their eldest brother lead him down a dark path.

“Down!” Evar grabbed at Clovis, but she found cover before he made contact.

“Where?”

“On the heights. Two skeer.” Evar slithered towards the ridge, keeping the folds of the rock between him and the skeer.

Clovis didn’t ask if they’d been spotted. It was nice to be trusted. Evar crested the ridge first. He let the scene before him sink into his eyes, lit by the red embers of the setting sun, then slid back, book leather scraping rock.

“Well?” Clovis asked.

“Best take a look for yourself.” Evar wasn’t sure he had the words for it.

Clovis advanced, following his path exactly. Moments later she came back without turning. “Shit.”

---