“How do you know my sizes?” he asked her.
“Brightwell, I’m your lieutenant now. I know everything.”
He caught the slight gleam in her eye, and a quirk of a smile tugging the corners of her lips. He gave her a full grin, which was hardly protocol, and as he turned away she planted a boot sole in his rear to speed him on his way. She, at least, wasn’t going to treat him as damaged goods.
He dressed quickly, feeling exposed and cold in the cavernous space. Glain was, of course, right on the sizes, even down to the boots, which fit like custom-made. He checked himself in the full-length mirror, and the reflection startled him for a second.
Brendan stared back. And then it was just him, pale and unwell, an ordinary soldier in a well-fitting uniform with the Great Library’s sigil gleaming on the collars and cuffs.
He fastened the weapons belt and eased the sidearm he already had into the holster. Extra charges on the weapons belt. He counted them out of reflex; the full ten. Exactly as expected.
“Stop admiring yourself and get a move on,” Glain said. “Unless you want me to leave you here.”
He couldn’t tell if she meant that or only wanted to motivate him. With Glain it was very difficult to tell. She’d grown into a tall and fiercely handsome young woman in the last few months; when he’d first met her she’d been awkward and uncomfortable in her body, but one thing had never wavered: her commitment to the High Garda. The perfect soldier, Glain was. And he knew he’d never match that.
But it was a fine thing to see, really.
He came back to her, and she gave him a critical once-over. “Stand up straight,” Glain said. “When you wear that uniform, you don’t slouch, Brightwell.”
“Yes, Lieutenant,” he said, and saluted her. It wasn’t mocking. He tried to do it well, and it must have been acceptable because she gave him a nod in turn. But then she stopped and met his gaze.
“I suppose I should say this. I’m sorry about Brendan,” she said. “I didn’t like him, but I know you loved him. Don’t take any guilt for his death. Fact is, I doubt he’d have taken any for you.”
He wanted to defend Brendan, but she was right; his brother usually cut his losses as soon as things turned against him, and Brendan had been pragmatic in a way that Jess knew he could never manage. And so he said, “Thanks. That must have hurt.”
“You have no idea,” Glain replied. “Tell anyone I showed you the slightest sympathy and I’ll pull your liver out through your throat.”
“Love you back,” he said, low enough that she could ignore it if she was so inclined. She paused as she walked away and didn’t quite turn.
“Glad to have you still with us,” she said, just as quietly. “Let’s go.”
Jess settled the rifle sling around his chest and followed his lieutenant.
A roving patrol stopped them on the way out of the High Garda compound and checked their Great Library wristbands. Security was necessarily tight; Jess grabbed the sergeant in charge of the detail and said, “Post a guard on the stores. Pay special attention to anyone taking extra uniforms.” Glain had used her badge to unlock the weapons cabinets, but uniforms weren’t considered as secure.
The sergeant frowned at him, then nodded. He understood well enough what Jess meant; they had enough problems without potential saboteurs wearing High Garda uniforms and gaining access to easy targets.
Like the Archives, Jess thought, and felt a chill. He caught up with Glain. “Lieutenant,” he said. “The Archives—”
“Yes,” Glain said. “I was told there’s already a plan in motion to secure the Great Archives. It’s an easy target for Burners, as well as other enemies. We have to watch for anything. Don’t worry, Commander Santi has it under control.”
“Does he?” he asked. “I’ve met the old Archivist. I guarantee you that he’d burn the Great Archives to the ground himself rather than lose his power. And we know he must have loyalists still working for him. Until we get him, nothing’s safe.”
“I’ll send word.”
“Promise?”
“Yes,” she said, and he believed her, though clearly she didn’t put much stock in the idea that anyone who’d lived their life in the Great Library could contemplate the unthinkable: destroying books. Even though she’d been there when the Black Archives had been obliterated, she still didn’t comprehend that heresy.
He could. The Archivist was the kind of man who’d murder his family rather than be rejected by them. And he’d destroy the heart of the Great Library for spite if he thought he might lose.
“All right. Then we move on to the next thing. Finding Anit.”
She sent him a skeptical, analytical look. “Are you certain you’re up to it?”
“Asking questions? It isn’t hard labor.”
“You’re pale,” she said. “And frankly, you look like you might drop in a strong breeze.”
He hurt; he couldn’t deny it. And he wanted badly to declare himself too weak to continue. But today wasn’t a day for coddling himself, and he shook his head. “I’ll be all right,” he said. “The Medica gave me a mask to use to treat my lungs. I’ll rest when this is done. Anit’s got eyes and ears everywhere in the city. If anyone can help us root out the Archivist and his allies, she can.”
“If she will.”
“She will.”
“Why?” Glain asked. “I’d think chaos among her enemies would be to her benefit.” Anit’s trade was the stealing, copying, and smuggling of books. And, yes, this did offer her opportunities, rare ones, but she needed a calm, orderly city to do her business well.
“Anit’s practical,” he said, and shrugged. “She’ll help us because she knows we’re better than the old administration. And she can earn some grace and favors.”
Glain looked revolted at the idea of owing favors to smugglers, but less than she would have when he’d first met her; she’d come to accept that for everything prohibited, there would be an endless stream of people willing to cater to those who still craved it. And controlling those people was far better than attempting, uselessly, to completely eradicate a supply without also destroying the demand. “Fine. Where do we start?”
They were now outside the gates of the High Garda compound, on the hill that overlooked the harbor and the city below. A good vantage point, this one, almost at the level of the three major landmarks: the Lighthouse, the Serapeum, the Iron Tower. From here, a good commander could see all the approaches and defenses and most of the city’s closed gates. Santi would be making his way here once he’d finished with orders at the pyramid.