Fuse by E.L. Todd

Sixteen

Flare and Bridgeapproached the wooden door and blew out the torches mounted on either side. When darkness blanketed them completely, they picked the lock with a dagger and a nail.

“You’re sure this is the place?” Flare worked the lock, trying to find the exact spot to make it click.

“I know where the Grand Library is.” Light was unnecessary to see Bridge’s exaggerated eye roll. It was clear in his voice.

“Do you think anyone is awake?” Flare’s hood was still pulled up as he worked the lock.

“Academics never sleep.”

“Then we’ll kill the accolades.” Problem solved.

“Whoa, hold on.” Bridge stopped scanning for the guards and looked at Flare. “We aren’t killing anyone.”

“Then what else are we supposed to do?”

“Tie them up. Did you think of that? Why do you always resort to killing?”

“Because they’ll tell a steward we were here. Idiot.”

Bridge’s eyes narrowed in the dark. “We’ll be long gone by then.”

“They’ll figure out what we’re doing.”

“And if we kill them, they’ll still figure it out.”

Flare couldn’t argue with that. “But they won’t know for sure.”

“Who else would be responsible, other than the dragon they’re trying to recapture?” Venom seeped out of Bridge’s voice. “Everyone in Anastille must know about it by now.”

Flare turned the knife and finally heard the distinct click in the keyhole. “I got it.”

“Wait.” Bridge grabbed his hand. “No killing, alright? These accolades are just students of history. They’ve done nothing wrong.”

Flare had a much different attitude about right and wrong. “If they’re in the way, that’s not my problem.”

“I’m not going in there unless you promise me. And you know how much you need me.”

Bridge’s unrealistic morals showed Flare just how ignorant he was. “Fine. We’re wasting too much time talking about it.” He opened the door and walked inside first. The stone stairway led to the different floors of the library. Low-burning candles illuminated the room, showing the volumes of hardbound books on the mahogany shelves. “Where do we start?”

Bridge walked through the shelves and searched for the map. “I’ve never been here before. It’ll take me some time to figure out.”

“Great.” Just what he needed. He pulled out his sword and scanned the room, making sure there were no surprises lurking about. He kept his eyes on the stairs and the door, waiting for an assailant to approach.

After twenty minutes of searching, Bridge came back. “It’s not here. Next floor.”

Flare took the lead and leaped off the stairs without making a sound with his boots. The floor was identical to the previous one with the same number of shelves and books. Tables were dispersed around the room where a few open books lay. The red rug underneath his feet silenced his steps. “Get to work.”

Bridge searched the floor, pulling books off the shelves and scanning their pages at a table. He moved quickly, making more noise than he should. Flare focused for the sound of approaching guards. Fortunately, he didn’t hear anyone.

“Goddammit.” Bridge came to his side, empty-handed. “Nothing.”

Flare hadn’t gotten his hopes up in the first place. “Let’s move.” There was one more floor they hadn’t explored. Hopefully, they would find what they needed there. They moved past the open windows that displayed the city below. The moon glowed high in the sky and was particularly bright on that summer’s eve.

They reached the tallest room of the tower but stopped when they spotted an accolade sitting at a table. His back was to them, and an open book lay on the table’s surface. His red robes reached to the floor, and his head was shaved down to the skin.

Flare turned to Bridge and silently asked what they should do.

He mouthed, “Don’t kill him.”

Flare mouthed back, “Then what am I supposed to do?”

Bridge shrugged. “Knock him out.”

That wasn’t the worst idea in the world. Flare approached him from behind then gripped his sword by the hilt. With lightning speed, he smashed it against the back of the accolade’s skull.

He collapsed onto the table, his face resting in the open pages of the book he was reading.

“Get to work,” Flare said. “There may be others.”

“Did you have to hit him that hard?” Bridge headed to the shelves and began his search.

“If I’d known how soft you were, I would have suggested that you become a gardener or a seamstress.”

Bridge threw a book at his head.

Flare knew it was coming, so he blocked it with his forearm. “That’s productive.”

Bridge disappeared into the shelves and searched the area.

Flare hoisted himself onto the table beside the unconscious man and rested his sword across his knees. The view from the window was mesmerizing, despite the danger they were in. It was difficult to be worried about anything when he stared at the beaming moon.

“Damn, it’s not here.”

Flare fought the sorrow in his heart. “You’re sure?”

“If it were here, I would have found it.”

That map was their greatest hope. Without it, they’d have to figure out everything based on intuition.

Flare glanced at the book the accolade was reading. A map spread across the two pages, and it included the continent of Anastille as well as the surrounding oceans. “Bridge, come here.”

“What?” He emerged from the sea of bookcases.

“I think I found it.”

“Nice one.” He disappeared again.

“I’m being serious. Get over here.” He lifted the man’s head and pulled the book out. Then he let his face fall against the wood with a dull thud.

Bridge saw what he did and gave him a glare.

“What? He’s already going to have a headache when he wakes up anyway.” He passed the book along.

Bridge examined the pages with little expectation. He turned the book sideways and had a closer look. When his eyes narrowed and his lips parted, the excitement returned to his face. “This is it.”

Flare clapped the unconscious man on the shoulder. “Thanks, buddy.”

“This is the map.” He turned the book and displayed it to Flare. “See this island here?” He pointed at a small landmass far out in the ocean. “It’s not on the newer maps. It’s been removed.”

“Why would they remove it?”

Bridge shut the book and stored it in his pack. “There’s only one explanation.”

“And what explanation is that? The preservers of history were careless with details and allowed something as important as an island to disappear from the world map?” That didn’t give him much hope in humanity.

“No.” Bridge put his hands on his hips, excitement burning in his eyes. “It looks like the dragons still have some allies.”