Equilibrium

Chapter Nineteen

"Grace, I want you to stay here, okay? I'm going to shut you in. I will let you out once the guards have taken care of everything." I promise, and she starts to protest, to try to convince me to stay in there with her, but the library door opens. I can hear it. I close the bookcase softly and feel along the ground under it until I manage to find the outer clasp. My fingers are trembling--my whole body is--so it takes me three tries, but I manage to close it. I straighten and turn, but stop. I don’t know where to go. Had I been at home, in a place I have memorized inside and out, I would know exactly what to do. But here? I could get lost trying to return to my bedroom at the end of the day. I have never really been too concerned about it because I could almost always stay at Nehemiah’s side.

Where to go, where to go.

An I idea comes to me when I look up at the massive but unlit chandelier. I scramble to the bookcases to my left, praying that my idea works. Because if it doesn't, and if whoever came in isn't on my side...I will be dead. I hoist myself up onto the first shelf, praying that the whole thing won’t collapse or fall over, but it doesn’t budge. I pull myself up onto the next shelf by my elbows. My one bad arm burns with the exertion, but I continue.

My idea won't work. As soon as I scramble on top of the nearest bookshelf, after nearly falling off, I know that it won't. I cannot reach the chandelier enough to hide on it. There is only one advantage from all of my hard work--I can see more of the library. There are five black-masked men in the library, but also two men that are not wearing masks.

The guards I ditched here. They are waiting for me to return to them as they knew I would, much farther away from the door than before, but if I can make it beyond them there is a servant's hallway on the other side of the library. There must be another place for me to hide, but to get there is risky. If any one of the masked men look up, I will be discovered. It does not stop me from reaching down to grab a book to throw in the direction of the guards. The sound of the book hitting another shelf grabs everyone's attention, but while the masked men look in the direction of the sound, the guards look in the direction of the throw. They see me, and the sight of me hiding up here, with a finger to my lips, alerts them that something is wrong. Another couple of guards enter the library, drawn to the sound, and while they move to engage the masked men, the other two start to climb to reach me. I crawl along the dusty bookshelf, trying to get closer without drawing attention to myself. I move slowly towards the wall, which is about ten yards away. The guards are about thirty yards of winding bookshelves away. The other guards, on the ground, have engaged in battle with two masked men. It looks like the fight is going in our favor, but not for long. More masked men are coming.

I reach the wall. Because I am above the secret place where Grace is at, there is about five square feet of shelf beneath me. I can stretch out a little bit and make it harder to be spotted. Unfortunately at the moment the realization hits me, the guards atop of the bookshelves are spotted and in turn some of the masked men decide to climb, which means that they spot me.

"Lady Emmaline, run!" One of the guards shouts and I stand on top of the shelf, praying that the masked men are too distracted by me to notice the abnormal paneling above Grace. Thankfully, they are too occupied with me to care about anything else. I run along the bookshelves, hiking up my heavy skirts. I leave a trail in the dust, almost like a pathway right to me. I hear a shout and risk a glance to my left. One of the bookshelves ahead and to my right has somehow been caught on fire.

When I reach the end, I drop to my knees. The floor is at least fifteen feet down, likely much farther. I roll and dangle myself over the edge, right above one of the fancy red couches, and then I let go. I bounce almost comically off of the couch and I hit the ground running. I fling open the door, but there are black masked men right outside, too. I am trapped. There are guards fighting to get into the library, but they won't make it inside before the black masked men reach me. I should have run the other way. I back towards the fire, and then I get the bright idea of lighting one of the curtain rods on fire, but before I can do it, one of the black masked men grabs my wrist. I try to wrench myself away from him, but he yanks painfully on my arm and I cry out. He traps me against his chest, and I do not want to be touched. He tries to put a hand over my mouth, but I sink my teeth into his palm and he yells out a string of profanity and releases me, shoving me onto the floor. I grab a book, one that was not put away, and I throw it at his head. It hits target and I see the spine of the book—Art of War.

Nehemiah told me to trust him. He had a plan. A horrible, sickening thought strikes me—what if this is his plan? What if he is trying to get rid of me? The Shakra problem would be the perfect excuse. He could blame it on them. Then he would rule both countries, unleashed. If he wanted to.

No. I cannot believe that Nehemiah would do that. I refuse to believe it. Still...the seed of doubt has been planted in my mind and now it only grows, watered by my fear. Another masked man tries to approach me, but I dance away from him. My dancing lessons can finally be put to use.

With a fierce cry one of the guards breaks free of the library labyrinth. He charges the black masked men and he engages in a fight with one, which gives me the chance to run back into the bookshelf maze. I know it better than the intruders, although not by much, but I know the way through and from the servants' hall I can hide anywhere in the palace. I pass by the bodies of two men, both dressed in the black garb, and a tiny flicker of hope ignites inside me. If this was Nehemiah's plan, he would not have his guards protect me. Nehemiah must have a plan. I must trust him. I can hear more than one pair of feet following me and the mixture of fear and adrenaline pushes me to run faster. I am in the hallway in seconds. I can see guards fighting in one direction, so I run the opposite way. I round a corner and, of course, run smack into yet another person. Strong arms wrap around me and pull me back and I'm struggling at first, but then I see guards running past. Ignoring me.

"Emma, it's okay! It's me! You're safe!" Nehemiah murmurs in my ear, spinning me around so I can see his face. I let him hold me tightly, because if he doesn't I am afraid that everyone will see how badly I am shaking. I cling to him, struggling to steady my breathing. I could have been killed. The alliance would have fallen and the suffering would have returned. I would have failed.

"Ezra warned us that they were trying to convince him to turn against us. We knew that this would happen. The second that they breached the walls, we were coming back. We knew, Emma. Why weren't you in the safe room? Where is Grace?" He asks, and the terror in his eyes is something I am used to. I used to feel that terror all the time. It is familiar.

"She's in the safe room. The latch on the inside was broken, so I shut her inside." He doesn’t relax. He is beside himself. He won’t calm down. I’m not sure that he can.

"You were supposed to be safe in there as well. Did they hurt you? Are you okay?" He pulls away from me to make sure and when his eyes meet mine again, there is a connection sparking between us. I can feel it burning between us and my stomach clenches in a not unpleasant way, but I look away and break it. He doesn’t want it. I won’t push on him what he doesn’t want. He will have to make the first move.

"Grace is probably terrified." I say, stepping away from him. The more distance between us the better, I think. He still has a crazed look about him, almost desperate. He runs his hands through his hair, a strange calm suddenly stealing over him. He looks at me again and tries to catch my eyes but I look away again.

"Emmaline..." He starts, and I tuck my hair behind my ear. My nervous habit. I’m wringing my hands and I can’t look anyone in the eye. I feel a panic rising inside me—I want to go hide. I want to lock myself away.

"She would probably like to know that I'm safe-" I hedge, inching towards the door.

"Emmaline. Look at me." Nehemiah closes my distance again and gently makes me look at him. I feel a lump rising in my throat and I want to cry. His touch is gentle and caressing. I’m not sure if it’s a show or not, but the guards quickly avert their gazes. His thumb traces the line on my jaw and I swallow hard.

"Are you okay?" He asks again, and I have to bite my lip to hold back the tears that try to break loose.

"I will be. Let's go get Grace?" I offer him my hand, as a compromise, and he takes it. Neither of us acknowledge the fact that my voice is trembling. He squeezes my fingers gently, just to remind me that he is still there.

Not that I could ever forget.