Chapter 68
Perez charges toward us, his son, Leo, by his side. “Converge on the traitors!” Perez yells. “Strike them down!”
The standing Guardians, all but Misia, follow his command.
They’ve been training for exactly this. Those of us he means to kill instinctually tighten our circle, our backs to one another.
Sal to my left, Meryl beside him, then Lozen, Gryphon, Oscar, Augustus, and Eero. Eight of us against twice as many.
We begin moving as one toward the chapel.
I hear Boudicca trying to rally the remaining villagers in the square, perhaps vying for Jarek’s position.
“David Seingalt believes there are treasures beyond our wildest dreams outside the Wall—feasts and gold and splendor the likes of which we’ve only heard about in stories!
And who would know, if not our Record Keeper? ”
How ludicrous that must sound with the Verdant Beast actively consuming the corpses of their neighbors.
But I feel another jolt at the mention of gold, even as we’re fighting for our lives.
I don’t have time to linger on it. The three of us with weapons—Lozen, Gryphon, and Augustus—are swinging them, but we’re being attacked from all sides.
“Retreat!” Gryphon commands.
We’re following his order when a sword flashes. Meryl is struck. I see her fall to the ground.
“Mer!” Sal screams. She lunges to protect her love, but she’s weaponless. Lozen intercepts the blade poised for Sal and, in the same breath, anchors herself to defend Meryl. That leaves no choice for the rest of us—Sal included—but to stumble back into the narrow cobblestone alley.
The screech of Guardian steel cuts through the air.
The acrid stench of blood and sweat burns my nostrils, and I can feel the rough stone scraping my shoulder as we press back, the tight space the only thing choking off their attempts to flank us.
Gryphon and Augustus hold the line like twin wolves, all muscle and instinct, but I can see them both growing weary under the weight of so many.
They can’t keep fighting for much longer.
Oscar’s breath rasps, and Sal swears as Eero and I drag her away from the flashing swords.
“Stop fighting us,” I hiss. “Meryl needs you alive, not dead on the street.”
My palm burns where I’ve scraped it raw against the brick, steadying myself as we’re herded like cattle down the narrowing alley.
We’re trapped. Where can you run to when you live in a prison, all the golden promises of harmony nothing but lies?
I nearly gasp as it comes to me, clear this time, the thought that was scraping at me when Boudicca spoke back in the square.
The secret room in the Record Keeper vault. There’s goblin’s gold inside. And I think I know why.
“Retreat to the Record Keeper cottage!” I scream. “Through the library and into the vault!”
“The chapel is a more defensible location,” Gryphon yells. “We should double back to it.”
“The Record Keeper cottage!” I insist.
“We go, and we die,” Gryphon hollers. “I need room to fight. I can protect you inside the chapel.”
I put my hand on his back, which is soaked with sweat. “The Record Keeper cottage,” I say. “You have to trust me.”
Even from behind, I can see him tense. The others will follow him if he doesn’t back down, and if they do, we’re dead. Will he let me make this choice for us? Time seems to stand still, and then finally, he shouts. “To the Record Keeper cottage!”
Our friends react instantly. Eero, guiding a shell-shocked Salvatora, takes point.
Oscar and I follow, and Gryphon and Augustus guard our retreat.
The thunder of our footsteps blends with the clash of weapons.
Still, we push forward until the Record Keeper cottage looms ahead.
We slam into the door and shove it open, breathless and desperate.
The six of us burst inside and wrench the door closed behind us just as the Guardians crash against it.
Eero cleverly jams it with a chair. It’ll buy us seconds.
Books blur past as we race through the library and toward the open basement door.
Somewhere along the line I’ve ripped my stitches, and I’m leaving a trail of blood on the polished floor.
I hope to the Wall and the Sun and the Water that my guess is right.
Because if it’s not, I’m leading my friends to certain death.
We scramble through the doorway, our footbeats echoing on the seventeen steps as we descend.
Behind us, the library door splinters open with a violent crack. “They’re inside!” Augustus shouts, racing back up the basement stairs, metal pipe raised. “Go! I’ll hold them off!”
“Augustus, no—” I yell. I see it happen as if in slow motion. Beautiful, fierce Augustus, wielding his length of pipe like a scythe. The first two Guardians to breach the top of the stairs fall, but there are more right behind them. Leo’s blade catches the light, then comes down.
Blood sprays across the stone walls.
My scream echoes. Strong arms drag me back—Gryphon, pulling me away as the Plumber’s body crumples.
I think of Wendy, knowing too well the grief that’s soon to follow.
I turn to see Sal looking wildly in every direction, searching the scroll-filled room for an exit, a weapon, any reason I would have led us down here to die like trapped rats.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she says. There’s no anger in her tone, only fear.
“Through here,” I say, finding the same indentation I saw David press to reveal the warden’s panic room.
Boots hammer the stairs, Guardians leaping past Augustus.
The bookcase flies open, and we rush into the huge secret room behind it.
It’s gutted of goods. Either Jarek or the Record Keeper moved them, but it doesn’t matter. That’s not what we’re here for.
And we’re not alone.