Thief of Lies

by Brenda Drake

  A crash sounded across the massive room, then scrambling feet, grunts, and an animal wail. Paws pounded against the floor and headed in our direction.

  Afton clamped onto my arm. “Holy crap, it’s coming toward us.”

  The security dog sniffed the floor on the other side of the cabinet. A staple dislodged as I strangled the stapler with nervous hands. The dog bumped against the cabinet, almost tipping it over on us.

  “Come on. We have to get out of here.” I jumped up—stapler in hand—and froze.

  Not. A. Dog. I jumped back and hit the wall. The beast resembled a rhino, with a large tusk curving up from its snout. Blood oozed from cuts in its side. With each shake of its head, gooey saliva showered everything. Its sharp horns stabbed the cabinet and then tossed the crumpled wood to the side. What the— I must have hit my head. Hard. I was hallucinating.

  Its crazed red eyes fixed on me. I hurled the stapler at its snout, then threw a front kick while it was distracted, the ball of my foot landing squarely on its jaw. The damn thing didn’t even flinch. It snorted and readied itself to charge.

  “Run!” I yelled to Nick and Afton.

  My heart racing, I sprinted after them. A bookshelf exploded behind me and splinters pelted my calves; searing pain fired across my skin.

  “Shit. That hurt.”

  Nick darted glances over his shoulder. “Hurry, Gia!”

  We scrambled onto a table, thumped across the length of it, and pounced onto the next one, each spring propelling us farther down the row. The beast’s hooves stomped behind me. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. It crashed into the tables as it charged after us, leaving broken furniture in its wake.

  Nick and Afton climbed one of the bookcases against the wall, clambered over a banister, and thudded onto the balcony. I scaled the shelves after them and latched onto two newels of the banister.

  I held tight, clenching my teeth, straining not to let go. I’m going to die!

  The beast rammed the bookcase, and I lost my footing on the shelf. Books tumbled out as the solid case collapsed onto the creature’s back. It twisted upright, eyes set on me.

  With my legs dangling just above its head, my sweaty hands began to slip down the rails. “Help!” I brought my knees up to prevent the loss of my feet.

  Nick and Afton each grabbed one of my arms and pulled me up and over the banister. Hot tears of relief filled my eyes. My legs were weak as I staggered to stand.

  I peered through the rails of the banister at the exact moment the guy and his friends rushed the beast, sinking their swords into its flesh. The beast collapsed to the floor, the impact resounding like thunder against the library walls.

  The four guys towered over the only girl in the group as they examined the bleeding heap on the floor. The guy I’d collided with behind the cabinet removed his helmet, exposing tousled brown hair.

  My breath punched out of me. It was the guy from the Boston Athenæum.

  Blood splatter dotted his metal chest guard and dripped from the sword in his hand. The ease of his stance suggested confidence. His strong shoulders flexed under his shirt as he brought his helmet down then rested it on his side.

  His gaze went up to the loft, brushing over Nick, me, Afton, and then darting back to me. I backed away from the banister. This can’t be happening. It’s not real. It was as if my mother’s bedtime stories were coming to life.

  The Athenæum guy returned his attention to the group beside him. I inched forward and clutched the railing, straining to hear them.

  “I could hardly see anything,” one of the other guys said. He removed his plumed helmet, releasing sandy tufts of hair. “We should have used our light globes or, better yet, our battle ones.”

  The Asian girl pulled her sword from the beast. “Yeah, maybe you’d get lucky again and hit another human.”

  “It was clearly an accident.”

  Light globe? I glanced at my palm, a memory warming the skin there.

  The other two guys slipped their helmets off. One, who looked to be East Indian, had a bad case of helmet hair with dark waves smashed against his head. The other guy’s short black dreadlocks were so sweaty they glistened.

  “She’s right,” the dreadlock guy said. “There wasn’t an open shot.” He grabbed a box of tissues off a nearby table and passed it around. The group wiped their blades.

  The Athenæum guy spoke next. “What took you so long to respond to my call?”

  “There was a delay in the connection,” said the girl. “Something interrupted it. The hound slipped through the gateway before the jump was detected.”

  Hound? Gateway? I should have been petrified, but I was too focused on the conversation below to think about the stinking carcass or that there were five people talking about us like we weren’t there. It was like I almost knew what they were saying, but couldn’t quite grasp it. The meaning was just beyond my reach.

  “So what about the humans?” the East Indian guy asked. They all had accents.

  “Same as always,” said the Athenæum guy. “Get them home. Wipe their memories of the events. Cover their trails. Hopefully no hunters will find them.”

  The girl sighed. “You’d think Paris would come up with a better way to secure their libraries so humans aren’t locked in after closing.”

  “They’re not as cautious as us,” said the sandy-haired guy.

  “This wasn’t a lock-in. The Monitors detected their jump through the gateway book,” the Athenæum guy said.

  The girl flashed him a startled look. “They couldn’t have. Humans can’t jump.”

  The sandy-haired one glanced our way. “That means they’re—”

  “We have an audience,” the dreadlock guy said.

  “We’ll sort this out later,” the Athenæum guy said. “We must secure the situation first. I met Edgar earlier, and he’s heard of a wizard conducting illegal experiments. Go back to Asile and inform Merl. Tell him about the humans.” He nodded toward the East Indian guy and dreadlock guy. “Don’t use your phones or window rods to transmit any information about this incident. We wouldn’t want to announce our findings for undesirables to hear.”

  The two went over to where we had first landed in the library. The guy in dreadlocks wore a red leather vest. With his horned helmet cradled under one arm, he slipped his sword into the scabbard attached to his waist. He snatched up a book from the pile on the floor, placed it on a nearby table, and flipped through the pages.

  The East Indian guy placed his Spartan-like helmet between his knees and held it there. Blood dotted his metal vest. He didn’t have a sword. Instead, leather sheaths attached to fingerless gloves with steel knuckles were strapped to his forearm. A silver blade extended out from each sheath and over the top of his encased hand. He pushed something on the gloves’ palms with his middle fingers, and the blades retracted. He tugged them off, tucked them into his belt, grabbed his helmet, and placed his hand on the other guy’s shoulder, saying something I couldn’t hear.

  The pages of the books on the floor nearby fluttered. The East Indian guy’s hair swooshed angrily around his face. The two guys’ pants lashed at their legs, and the flaps of their vests slapped against thick leather belts. Their bodies spun together until they turned into a multi-colored tornado and vanished into the page.

  I gasped and stumbled back, and Afton grabbed my hand tight. A quick breath cut through my lungs. Tremors ran up the length of my arm. I wasn’t sure if it was my hand shaking or hers. Or both.

  “Where did they go?” Nick said, crowding close to us.

  “They…they disappeared,” Afton squeaked.

  “They went into the book.” I dropped Afton’s hand, leaning forward to get a better view of the scene below. And I knew what had happened. “Just like we did.”

  “Is anyone hurt?” The guy from the Athenæum called up to us, his voice smooth and deep.

  “I-I don’t think s-so,” Nick answered, a quake in his voice. He then looked to us. “You guys okay?”


  I tightened my hands into fists and took several calming breaths, trying to stop my body from trembling. Other than the rug burns on my knees and the welts on the backs of my legs, I was alive. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Physically, maybe.

  “It’s safe to come down,” the Asian girl shouted. “The stairs are behind you.”

  We went down and then stepped out of the stairwell. The stench from the beast hit me, making me queasy. I swallowed the bile rising up in my throat.

  Afton kept her grasp on Nick’s arm. “What was that thing?”

  Athenæum guy’s stare was on me again. “Just a minute, you’re that girl in Boston—the one in the reading room?”

  Wait. He remembers me? My heart jerked and then jackhammered against my chest. “Y-yes,” I stammered.

  “We should make our introductions,” the Asian girl said. “I’m Lei, and the rude one is Arik.” She removed her helmet, releasing a long black braid that fell against her back.

  “Did you say Eric?” Nick asked.

  “No. It’s Ah-ric,” she said and holstered her katana in a sheath fastened to an emerald-encrusted belt around her waist. Nick and I had become obsessed with the swords after streaming all the Kill Bill videos on his laptop one Saturday. But seeing a real one was scary. It looked like it could cut someone’s head off with a single swing. Unlike the other four, Lei didn’t carry a shield.

  “I guess that leaves me. I’m Demos,” said the sandy-haired guy. He wore a metal chest plate molded to resemble a muscled torso. A helmet with a red plume dangled from his right hand. His liquid blue eyes lingered on Afton.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Nick said. “Is this some sort of joke? Is this for real?”

  “I don’t understand your meaning,” Arik said. “What’s your name?”

  “Nick.”

  “Well, Nick, I assure you this is real.”

  “Yeah, welcome to your new reality,” Demos said.

  “I’m Gia, and this is Afton,” I blurted, taking her hand again. Her fingers were ice-cold and she shivered uncontrollably.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gia,” Lei said.

  Arik attached his shield to his back with a belt strapped diagonally across his torso, and Demos did the same.

  “Exactly what were you hoping to accomplish with the stapler?” Demos asked.

  “I, uh, there wasn’t anything else,” I said.

  “Well, I must say, you did look menacing with it.”

  “Which one of you spoke the key?” asked Arik.

  Nick quirked a brow. “The what?”

  “Right. If you want to play it like that,” Lei said, “then tell us who sent you here.”

  “That book in the library—”

  Arik looked at me with those dark eyes. Their thick lashes distracted me and I froze again, unable to form words.

  Seriously. Say something. He must think I’m in need of a brain transplant.

  “What book?” Arik urged.

  “Yes, that book, you know…the one you were reading. It…well, one minute we’re in Boston and the next we ended…we ended up here.” I had to sound like a stuttering idiot trying to catch my breath between words. I needed to get a grip on myself, but each time I looked at Arik all thoughts escaped me.

  “How did you know the key?”

  “What key?”

  “The key is a phrase spoken in Italian,” Lei answered.

  My stomach lurched at that. “Do you mean aprire la porta?”

  “Yes, that’s the one,” Demos said. “Who spoke it?”

  “I did.”

  Arik looked sharply at me. His gaze dropped to my chest, and with two quick strides, he was right in front of me. “How did you get the scar on your chest?”

  I glanced down. My shirt had shifted south during the mad dash over the balcony. I yanked it up to hide the mark. The crescent-shaped scar was my barometer—I’d never let my shirts go below its highest point.

  “Well? How did it happen?”

  I covered the spot and took a step away from him. “It happened when I was a baby. My mother didn’t say…she wouldn’t tell Pop…she felt really bad about it. I couldn’t ask her. She died when I was four.” I realized how terrible that sounded and added, “Obviously, it was an accident. She was a good mother.”

  “Uh-huh.” Arik raised an eyebrow at me then turned to Lei and Demos. “Do any of you know what a crescent brand does?”

  “I think it’s the shield charm,” Lei said. “I’ve seen it in old charm chronicles, but no one knows how to create one. If that’s what it is, are you aware of what it means?”

  “She’s a witch,” Demos said around a wide grin.

  I blinked. “I’m not a witch.” I was sure of it.

  “You have to be kidding,” Nick said. “There’s no way she’s a witch. Wait, what am I saying? They don’t even exist.”

  Lei came over and placed her hand on my arm. “Demos thinks that because only a witch can create a shielding brand. But he’s mistaken, because witches can’t travel the gateway books, and apparently you can.”

  “Bane Witches can travel,” Demos countered.

  Lei gave him an incredulous look. “Bane Witches are evil. It distorts their faces. Does she look that way to you?”

  “You all are crazy,” Afton snapped, spinning around, her eyes searching for an escape. “We have to get out of here.”

  Demos caught her arm. “Hold on there. Nobody’s going anywhere.”

  “Get your hands off me.” Afton yanked away from his grip. “You had blood all over them. And you can’t keep us here. We’re leaving. Gia? Nick?” She stormed off.

  Arik’s gaze dared us to make a move, his hand on the hilt of his sword, his broad shoulders and large biceps menacing under his fitted vest.

  Nick and I just stood there, both of us too scared to follow her.

  Demos chased her, saying over his shoulder, “I think now would be a good time to erase their memories.”

  “You know we cannot wipe them now,” Arik said. “It would immobilize them for hours, and we must get them to safety.”

  Demos dragged Afton back to the group, chairs toppling over in the struggle. Nick wrenched her from Demos’s grasp and wrapped his arms around her to keep her from running again. “What were you thinking?” he hissed near her ear. “They could kill us…you.”

  Lei crossed her arms, giving us a disapproving glare. “Maybe we could calm them. Besides, if she’s a wizard, erasing her memory won’t work.”

  “She can’t be a wizard. She’s female,” Demos said, his breath heavy. “That is, unless she’s hiding something.” He glanced at my nether regions.

  First he calls me a witch. Then he thinks I’m a guy? I glared at him. “I’m a girl.”

  “Don’t be such a chauvinist, Demos.” Lei shook her head at him. “There have been female wizards. Well, not many, but there have been some. She could be suppressed. She isn’t fey. I don’t see a glamour rim around her. And she’s definitely not a creature of any sort. She could be a Sentinel. Arik?”

  His gaze traveled over me. I wrapped my arms around my chest, uncomfortable at the way he scrutinized me.

  Nick scratched the back of his neck. “What’s a Sentinel?”

  Lei said, “We’re like security guards for the libraries. There are many beings traveling through the gateways, searching…well, anyway, some can be dangerous, just like this hound here.” Her foot landed on the beast’s hindquarters. “We take care of them—”

  “If she’s a Sentinel, then she’ll have special skills,” Demos said. “Can you conjure magic or fight, Gia?”

  The right corner of my mouth started twitching. It’s a tic I get when I’m nervous or lying, or nervous because I’m lying, whichever. I had experienced magic before, but I wasn’t going to tell them about it. Not that I could anyway. I froze each time I wanted to tell someone my secret. And what I’d done was nothing in comparison to all I’d heard and seen today.

  Besides, I didn’t e
ven know who these people were. But I did know I wanted to stick around them in case one of those scary beasts showed up.

  Nick gave me a sidelong glance. “Gia fences for our school’s team, plus she’s a badass kickboxer.”

  “Nick!” I dug my elbow into his rib.

  Nick grabbed his side and glared at me. “Well, you are like another species.”

  “Stop it.” I shoved him this time, hoping to shut him up. Sure, I had earned trophies in fencing and won matches in kickboxing, but so had others. How did that make me different?

  “There’s no need for violence.” He shrugged away from me. “See? You’re a fighter.”

  “I can’t be one… I’m awkward.”

  Afton shot me a sympathetic smile. “You’re only awkward at girl stuff.”

  I stared at my unpainted toenails. She was right. I never felt like I fit in anywhere.

  “My bet is she’s a witch.” Demos still had that smug grin on his face.

  “Stop teasing her.” Lei turned to me. “Well, have you ever conjured magic?”

  “No. Are you crazy?” I bit my lip to stop the twitch.

  “Enough already,” Arik said. “You’re frightening her. It’s not our place to straighten this out. We’ll turn in our report to the council, and they can figure out this mess. Right now, our duty is to get these humans safely home and cover up any scent of them.”

  Lei retrieved her ringing cell phone from her hip pocket. “Yes? Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Certainly, we’re on our way.” She pressed the screen to end the call. “The Cleaners will be here in ten. We have to leave.”

  “What are Cleaners?” I said.

  “They do exactly what the name implies,” Lei said. “They’ll use their magic to tidy up this mess, and they’ll take care of this.” She nudged the beast with her booted foot and then turned to Arik. “So, what’s the plan?”

  “We’ll split up,” he said. “Library hop to throw off the humans’ scent.”

  “Why?” I blurted. “Why do you have to throw off our scent?”

  “When a human enters the gateways, they leave a scent behind,” Arik said. “Some of the less gentle Mystiks will kill any human who discovers the Mystik world. The lot of them—hunters and hounds—will gather your scent before long.”