Chapter 5 - The Mirror of Deceit-5-
Ryan was a mess of a man, his clothes torn and his face a map of his failure, but the hand holding the gun was steady. "You're coming with me, Emily," he snarled, his eyes darting toward the holographic map. "That map is the only reason I’m still breathing. If I deliver it to the Vanes, they might let me walk away."
"You're a fool, Ryan," I said, my voice cold. I was standing between him and the safe, my back to the map. "You’ve already failed them. Do you really think they’ll welcome you back with open arms?"
"I don't have a choice!" he screamed. "I’m in too deep!"
I saw his finger twitch on the trigger. I knew I had one shot at this. I had been studying the architecture of this library for the last ten minutes—the layout of the ceiling, the old, heavy chandeliers, the iron chains.
"Ryan, look," I said, pointing behind him, toward the darkened aisles of the library. "Is that your partner? Is that Arthur?"
He flinched. For a split second, his gaze flickered behind him. That was the opening I needed.
I dove toward the floor, grabbing a heavy brass bookend from the nearest shelf and hurling it at the light switch on the wall. The switch shattered, and the grand hall plunged into total darkness.
"No!" Ryan shouted, firing a blind shot into the air.
I scrambled into the aisles, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew the library’s layout; I had researched it for my firm’s historical renovation project. I moved silently, my hand brushing against the shelves of leather-bound books.
Ryan was stumbling around, his voice ragged with panic. "I know you're here, Emily! I’ll burn this place to the ground!"
I reached the maintenance panel at the end of the aisle. I remembered the old, manual override for the library's heavy iron chandeliers. I pulled the lever.
With a deafening crash, the massive bronze chandelier swung downward, swooping through the dark like a giant, metal pendulum.
Clang!
The iron frame slammed into the aisle where Ryan had been standing, sending a shower of brass and glass flying. There was a groan, a metallic scraping sound, and then silence.
I stood still, my breath coming in shallow gasps. I waited for a movement, a shot, a word. Nothing.
I slowly walked back toward the center of the hall, my flashlight beam cutting through the dust. Ryan was lying pinned beneath the chandelier, his legs trapped under the heavy iron frame. He was alive, but he was incapacitated.
I didn't feel triumph. I felt a cold, hollow pity. He had been a man who thought he was a player, but he was just a piece of meat in a game he didn't understand.
I walked over to the map projection. It was still glowing, the red dots pulsating like a dying heart. I saw one dot that wasn't moving. It was right here, in the library basement.
My father hadn't just hidden a map. He had hidden a node.
I turned back to the safe, looking for a way to access the basement. There was a hidden lever, disguised as a bust of the library’s founder. I turned it, and a section of the floor behind the safe slid open, revealing a spiral staircase descending into the dark.
I looked at Ryan, who was glaring at me with hateful eyes.
"You have no idea what you're stepping into," he spat.
May you like
"No," I replied, grabbing my bag. "But I think I'm about to find out."
I left him there, trapped and screaming, and descended into the basement. The secrets of the Whitmore name were waiting, and for the first time, I felt like the person who was finally going to write the truth.
