Free Black Halo by Sam Sykes Page B

turned to walk out the door again. She had grabbed his coattails in her hand and pulled with all that desperation demanded. No one troubled the Jackals. It wasn’t as hard a rule then as it was now, the Jackals being a mere gang instead of a syndicate back then, which was the sole reason Bralston never had to raise his voice again. No one troubled them; not the nobles, not the guards, not even the Venarium.
    Bralston pulled away sharply, left the room. His boots clicked the length of the hall. She heard the scream that ensued, smelled the embers on his coat when he returned and sat down beside her.
    ‘ What did you do? ’ she had asked.
    He had paused and said. ‘ Nothing .’
    She had barely noticed him pulling on his breeches now. He did not dress so much as gird himself, slinging a heavy belt with several large pouches hanging from it and attaching his massive spellbook with a large chain. He pulled his tunic over the large amulet, a tiny red vial set within a bronze frame, hanging from his neck. It wasn’t until he reached for his final garment that she realised he wouldn’t be stopped.
    ‘Your hat,’ she whispered, eyeing the broad-rimmed leather garment, a steel circlet adorning its interior ring. ‘You never wear it.’
    ‘I was requested to.’ He ran a finger along the leather band about it, the sigils upon it briefly glowing. He traced his thumb across the steel circle inside it. ‘This is … a special case.’
    She watched him drape the great coat across his back, cinch it tight against his body. She watched the sigil scrawled upon it shrink as he walked to the balcony. She never thought she would get used to the sight of it.
*
     
    ‘ You’ve … come back .’ She had gasped not so many years ago, astonished to find him standing on her balcony, clad in his coat and hat. ‘ You said it was a special case .’
    ‘ It was. I came back, anyway .’ He smiled, shrugged off his coat. ‘ I’ve already paid .’
    ‘ Paid? Why? ’ She pulled away from him, tears brimming in her eyes. ‘ I thought … you were going to take me away when you came back. You said … ’
    ‘ I know … I know .’ The pain on his face had been visible then, not hidden behind years of wrinkles. ‘ But … the case got me noticed. I’m being made … ’ He had sighed, rubbed his eyes, shook his head. ‘ I can’t. I’m sorry. I won’t lie again .’
    ‘ But … you … you said … ’
    ‘ And I never will again. It was stupid of me to say it in the first place .’
    ‘ It wasn’t! You were going to— ’
    ‘ It was. I can’t. I’m a Librarian. I have duties .’
    ‘ But why? ’ she asked then. ‘ Why do you have to be a Librarian? ’
    ‘Why?’ she asked now, shaking her head. ‘Why do you have to be the one to avenge her?’ She held up a hand. ‘Don’t say duty … don’t you dare say it.’
    ‘Because I have a gift,’ he said without hesitation. ‘And so rarely do I get the chance for that gift to be used in a way that I consider more worthwhile than duty.’
    ‘Will I see you again?’
    He paused as he opened his coat and held open his pocket.
    ‘Maybe,’ he answered.
    His next word was something she couldn’t understand, something no one else but a wizard could understand. She certainly understood what it was, however, for no sooner did he speak it than the sound of paper rustling filled the room.
    Silent save for the rattle of their wings, the cranes came to life. Their eyes glowed in a thousand little pinpricks of ruby; their wings shuddered in a thousand little whispers. They fell from bookshelf and basin, rose from tile and chair, hung a moment in the air.
    Then flew.
    She shrieked, shielding herself from the thousand paper wings as the room was filled with bone-white cranes and the sound of tiny wings flapping. In a great torrent, they flew into Bralston’s coat pocket, folding themselves neatly therein.
    She kept her eyes closed, opening them only when she heard the larger wings