The Indigo King - James A. Owen [64]
“Why?” he asked.
“Because of who you will become,” Jack said bluntly. “You needed to be Bound.”
“That’s not what I was asking,” Madoc replied, looking over his shoulder. “Why did Meridian do that? Why did he use Old Magic on me?”
“To protect the Grail,” Jack said, “and the rest of the world.”
Madoc’s demeanor was so confusing to them that Jack, and even Chaz, were beginning to soften.
“Protect the Grail?” Madoc said, clearly perplexed. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
Before they could press the matter further, a group of librarians, armed with swords and daggers, swarmed down one of the stairways. There were obviously other entrances than the one the companions had come through.
The foremost of them scanned the room, barely noticing the companions, then fixed his glare on Madoc. “The Grail is taken!” he shouted. “Hold them! Hold them all!”
With no warning, a flame exploded in the center of the room, dividing it neatly between the companions and Madoc on one side, and the librarians on the other.
Madoc took one step, then spun about as if he were on a tether. The Binding was good, and he’d be compelled to do as he was commanded. He bent and scooped up the spear, then ran from the room. As he went, his eyes locked with John’s, and the Caretaker was stunned to see there was no anger in his expression—only hurt and sorrow.
The fire had caught several floor coverings alight and was threatening the pillars as well.
“This way!” Jack shouted to the others. He led them up another stairway and out of the Grail chamber. The passageway curved around and brought them back to the entrance, where Archimedes was already sounding an alarm.
Jack didn’t even pause as he exited, but rounded the corner at full speed and headed back to the main chambers of the library.
“That was lucky for us,” John panted as they ran. “Talk about an opportune moment for spontaneous combustion!”
“It weren’t luck,” Chaz said, opening his jacket to reveal a small cache of cylinders. “I brought my flash-bangs with me in case they were needed, and it seems they were!”
John stopped, aghast, as did Jack still ahead of them.
“You did that on purpose?” Jack said, sputtering in anger and confusion. “Why, Chaz?”
“A distraction,” Chaz said, completely baffled as to why they weren’t delighted that he’d sidetracked their pursuers. “I thought you’d be happy!”
“Happy!” exclaimed Jack. “You fool—you’ve just set fire to the Library of Alexandria!”
Chaz scowled, still uncertain why escaping with their lives was a bad thing. John swore silently, and they all started to run again.
“Never mind,” John said to Chaz. “We did what we needed to. That’s what matters most.”
“You know,” Jack remarked, considering, “Charles is going to be mortified.”
Chaz reared back. “Charles? Why would he be mortified? This is my fault.”
“I know,” Jack replied. “But all he’s going to care about is that he seems to keep setting fire to places, whichever timeline he’s in.”
As they turned a corner in the main corridor, the companions passed Ptolemy, who was dashing in the other direction. He paused slightly, looking at them through narrowed eyes, as if he suspected that they’d been the instigators of the inferno, but then he turned away and kept running. John, to his great relief, had noted that the geographer had been carrying both Geographicas—his own as well as Meridian’s.
Another one of the librarians, who had been first in the Grail chamber, stopped the king.
“It’s too late!” he exclaimed, mouth agape with fear and astonishment. “The Sangreal is lost!”
“What are you talking about, Pelles?” Ptolemy answered. “Lost how?”
“A great winged beast!” Pelles cried. “It took the Sangreal into the air and away from the library!”
“No time for stories,” Ptolemy said, “just because you’ve failed in your duties! Send word to the son of Arimathea, and take what you can to Glastonbury.
“The library,” the geographer went on, “is finished.”
Reaching one