Page 39 of The Library at Hellebore

“Thank god,” they said, hands outstretched for ours. “I thought—I thought—”

Neither of us intercepted that attempt at intimacy: Rowan installed his hands in his pockets and I took a step back, wary. Gracelynn slowed in their approach, hands closed into fists before they let them drop. Nonetheless, the relief did not abandon their expression.

“What did you think?” I said.

Their gaze ricocheted between Rowan and I, both of us smothered in shadows too dark for the sweltering afternoon. “I thought Adam might have done something to you.”

“Can’t be worse than what she did to Johanna,” said Rowan before he let out a softahaof pleased discovery, removing from a pocket a battered cigarette.

Gracelynn froze. I scowled at him.

“I’m sure there’s something we don’t know,” said Gracelynn, licking dry lips. “I know Alessa. She wouldn’t do anything like that for fun. We must be missing something and if—”

Suddenly, I thought of Gracelynn’s spouse. I thought of them holding each other in the dark, and how Kevin had opened their veins to the shadows as the faculty surged toward us, how they’d kissed Gracelynn before they told them to run, told them not to look back, told me to keep them safe. Like Kevin, they’d absolutely die for someone else, counting themselves lucky the whole miserable time because it’d be a noble sacrifice they’d made, and it was all I could do not to scream.

“I’m an asshole. It’s not that complicated.”

Gracelynn’s brow rucked.

“What are you talking about?” they began cautiously.

“Look, I don’t want to talk about what happened,” I said. “But I will say this weird little attempt at humanizing me? Totally unwarranted. I did kill her.”

Something in their expression stuttered, gave up its last breath, and died. I’d be the first to admit they’d done nothing to deserve that. Their only fault was a suicidal amount of kindness but I can admit now what I refused to acknowledge then: I’d been afraid Gracelynn might think me worth martyring themself for. There were people I imagined were worth dying for, folks like poor Delilah and unlucky Sullivan, people like Eoan even, who played badly but had done his best with the rotten hand he’d been given. I wasn’t one of them.

Not even close.

“Okay, okay, theydies and gentle psychos, please, come on,” said Rowan, sidling between us. “Let’s focus on what’s important.”

“And what is fucking important here, Rowan?” I said, teeth gritted. “Tell me.”

“Getting out, obviously,” said Rowan with far too much cheer, waving an unlit cigarette at me. “Hear me out. What if we all embarked on a nice trip into the stacks again?”

“What the hell for?” I demanded.

“Well, Eoan did us a favor. He overfed the Librarian before he, uh, went ahead and started becoming an all-you-can-eat buffet for Portia. This is the perfect time to go back in there and finally get the answers we want.”

“Better plan. How about,” I said, “we find Portia. Take Eoan’s remains back from her and I don’t know, smother Adam in the remains. Get her and Adam to kill each other.”

“What?!” demanded Gracelynn, their repulsion so great, I could hear the extraneous exclamation mark.

“Sure,” said Rowan. “But how about we table that as a backup plan and try my plan first?”

Some leviathan weight slammed itself against the wall so hard, the ancient oak moaned and cracked and broke. Dustfountained from above with every impact.Whumph. Whumph. Whumph.I backed away from the wall, an arm raised and laid across Rowan’s chest, nudging him back. Six feet from us, one of the lights recessed into the ceiling seemed to stave into itself, its glow dimming, dying with a shiver.

“Looks like the Librarian woke up from its food coma,” said Rowan.

“Then keep your voice down,” I hissed.

The centuries-old masonry whimpered as it was climbed, a vast weight crawling into the ceiling above. More dust billowed down, veiling us with a fine white film. I touched my index finger to my lips, a warning. Then, nothing.

“We go now,” I whispered. “Or we go never.”

We heard something scuffle above us, like the world’s largest dog turning in circles before it bedded down for the night.

“Well?” I said, staring pointedly at Gracelynn.

They scrunched their face at me. “Fine. Let’s go.”

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