Page 122 of Book of Night
But of course, whatever kind of smart Charlie was, it wasn’t that kind. “You told me what would happen if I didn’t.”
A few hushed conversations became less hushed after that. Gossip was the lifeblood of any party.
A musician—the one in the owl mask—made for the exit, instrument in hand. A waiter whispered to José. The waiter pointed. José took a canapé off a silver tray and ate it. This was definitely not going to help her reputation back home.
Across the room, the Hierophant left where he’d been standing and began to move toward her. His eyes were more sunken than ever. His lips had a faintly blue cast.
“I would think that this was a piece of performance art for our entertainment, except that Lionel seems absolutely flummoxed,” said Vicereine. The head of the alterationists was in a tuxedo, her shadow taking on the appearance of a large hunting cat pawing the ground beside her. “Maybe you missed your cue?”
Salt cleared his throat. “I hired her to steal back a book that I lost, theLiber Noctem. It is a jewel in my collection, and I had hoped to have it on display tonight. So, Ms. Hall, do you have my book?”
“I do,” she said.
He smiled at that, with all the satisfaction of someone checkmating a rogue king. “Well then, come and give it to me.”
He had, after all, arranged a situation where all her choices were bad. The only book she had was the one that had belonged to Knight Singh. She could bluff and give him that. He’d probably appreciate having it, since the cover was stuffed with pages full of heinous shit he’d done. But no matter if she gave him something valuable, he’d still accuse her of foul play. Of trying to pass off that book as his lost one.
Charlie took a deep breath, letting Salt really enjoy the moment. Then she reached into her backpack and took out what she’d brought from the safe in the library, where it had been locked up tight the whole time. The famedBook of Night. The genuineLiber Noctem.Light streaming through the crystals of the chandelier reflected off the polished metal cover, sending rainbows along the wall.
The smile left Salt’s face so quickly that it seemed as though it had been slapped off. “Where did you find—”
“I stole it,” Charlie said. “That’s what I do. You told me to get it, so I got it.”
The Hierophant reached for the book with pale, trembling fingers. “Mine. Those secrets belong to me.”
32THE CHARLATAN
This close, Charlie could smell the sour sweat of the Hierophant’s body. She held tight to the book and turned her gaze to Salt. “Shall I give it to him?”
“No!” Salt barked, then saw the warning in the Hierophant’s face and modulated his tone. “Bring it to me, so I can verify this is the authentic volume.”
Charlie frowned. “So youdon’twant me to give it to him?”
“Do not make me repeat myself,” Salt said. “Bring the book to me.”
Her heart pounded. There were so many chances to get things wrong here and only one chance to get them right. People were watching. Vicereine was close by, but so far with no reason to be anything but amused.
“I can promise you this copy of theLiber Noctemis authentic,” Charlie said. “Since I got it from your safe, along with a certificate from Sotheby’s and a receipt from the auction. The book never left the house. You just let everyone believe that it was stolen.”
“Is that true?” the Hierophant croaked out.
Salt began walking toward Charlie, allowing him to lower his voice, making it harder for the rest of the crowd to listen in. “Let’s discuss this further in private.”
Charlie had puzzled over why Salt had set her an impossible task with an even more impossible deadline, unless he wanted her to fail. It was thinking about that which had made her remember Knight Singh’s opinion on theLiber Noctem.
If there had been a ritual in the book to let a Blight take human form, then nothing made much sense.
But if there wasnoritual, if the book was as useless as Knight had claimed, then Salt was free to employ the rumor to convince a Blight to help him. But that depended on keeping the book forever out of the Blight’s hands—and yet seemingly obtainable enough to stay hooked. Hence the need for a thief of the original volume (Edmund Carver), a new possible lead (Paul Ecco), and the most recent red herring (Charlie Hall).
If she hadn’t shown up, Salt could have convinced the Hierophant she had the book and was hiding it from him. And Charlie would wind up with her guts smeared on the ceiling, just like the others.
Or she could have shown up to the party to say she hadn’t found theLiber Noctem. That might help some, but Salt would accuse her of holding out, and her guts would still wind up on the ceiling.
What Salt needed was someone for the Hierophant to blame. Anyone other than him. Which meant he knew where the book was, and the simplest answer for how he knew was that he still had it.
She’d had a bad moment when she saw Red in the cell, not just astonished by him, but abruptly sure she’d been wrong about everything. But then she realized he must have been the convincer. The reason the Hierophant believed Salt in the first place. If there wasn’t a ritual, then how could he exist?
“Private? I don’t think so,” said Charlie, shaking her head. “You’re responsible for a lot of murders. Knight Singh, for one. I’d rather not be next.”
