Page 72 of The Book of Doors


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“It’s what she wants,” Drummond continued. “It’s what she was seeking even back then. She’ll be stronger now. It’s been ten years. And she’s still looking, still gathering books.”

Cassie looked up at him.

“I’ve heard the stories,” he said. “I still speak to people in the book world, from time to time. She’s been systematically hunting down book hunters and other collectors, taking their books from them. Everyone who meets her and who lives—and there aren’t many of those—they say the same thing. She asks where I am. And she asks about the Fox Library. Everybody knows she wants all of the books, but nobody knows why. Nobody knows who she is or where she came from. And nobody knows what she will do when she has them all.”

“Why don’t you stop her, then?” Cassie asked. “Instead of destroying my book, destroy her! Use the books you have against her rather than hiding them.”

Drummond flinched back, as if stung. He opened his mouth, trying to come up with an answer, then closed it again.

“I...” he struggled. “I’m not a fighter, Cassie. I sit in quiet buildings and study books. What am I to her? You saw her. She’s deadly.”

Cassie shook her head, disagreeing with his assessment. “You stood up to that man Barbary, back in the deli. You defended Izzy and me...”

“I only did what I had to do, to get away, to protect you and Izzy and to keep the book from him.”

“It’s not different,” Cassie said. “We need to stand up to the woman and keep the books safe from her.”

Drummond coughed a laugh into the air, disagreeing. “Itisdifferent. Hugo Barbary is just a man, and he terrifies me. But the woman... the woman is worse. You’ve seen.”

Cassie wrestled with it, knowing he was right, but knowing she couldn’t let the Book of Doors be destroyed. She had to think. She had to work out what to do. She stood up.

“We need to go back, back to our own time,” she said.

Drummond looked up at her, disappointed.

“I just want to see my friend, Drummond,” she said. “I need to clear my mind. I can’t... I can’t deal with this right now. I want to make sure she’s all right.”

“Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

“You’ve lost your friends, and I am so sorry for that,” Cassie said, hervoice softening. “But Izzy is still alive. After what I’ve just seen, I want to check how she is.”

Drummond nodded. “I understand,” he said. “Let’s make sure she’s safe.”

They walked out of Bryant Park in silence, heading east along Forty-Second Street, bumping and jostling with the lunchtime crowds. The city smelled of hot metal and concrete and the air was thick and grimy. They found an underground parking garage and wandered down the ramp into the cooler air, looking for an out-of-the-way door. Cassie reflected that she was getting good at finding the right sort of doorways now, the quiet doorways that nobody looked at or noticed. Those places were made for the Book of Doors. She found an entrance to an internal fire escape staircase.

“This will do,” she said.

“Leave the door ajar,” Drummond said. “Just in case someone is there. We need an escape route.”

Cassie nodded at him and then opened the door to reveal the hallway of her apartment.

“What’s that?” Cassie asked, peering at the floor close to the front door. “Is that blood?”

The two of them took a few steps and looked at the sticky red puddles marking the wood. Cassie’s heart beat a tattoo of panic.

“Yes,” Drummond said, his voice flat. “Blood.”

“Izzy!” Cassie gasped. She darted passed Drummond and into the living area. Everything appeared normal at first glance, but as Cassie’s eyes danced around she spotted things that weren’t right. She saw a mess, the TV stand collapsed and broken. She thought she could smell urine in the air.

“Oh god!” she muttered, turning where she stood, hands in her hair.

She saw furniture and belongings toppled out of place, a stain on the couch cushions, the man hiding behind the door lurching toward her.

“Fuck!” Cassie yelled, as Hugo Barbary lunged for her, his face a sneer of anger.

“What?” Drummond called in surprise from the hall.

But Cassie couldn’t answer, because Hugo Barbary’s big hand wasaround her neck, squeezing breath and rational thought from her. She batted at the hand ineffectually. Cassie wasn’t short, but she was shorter than Hugo Barbary, and his arm was thick and solid like a tree trunk. He pulled her close and she saw that one side of the man’s face looked swollen and red.

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