The Librarian - Part Three

"You should have let him keep the girl."

Threeves' voice echoed around the gardens like cracking ice on a frozen lake. Thunderous and badly restrained and dangerous - a tone no one used when speaking to Morwin.

Morwin, who sat across from him in their usual gathering place, wasn't smiling. The blood had drained from his face, his usual placid demeanor replaced by something far more calculating. Threeves knew now that expression meant anger - Morwin was not one to rage, but percolating beneath the surface was something menacing.

Fear of that menace was not enough for Threeves to hold his tongue.

"I almost had it," he pressed. He wanted, as irrational as it was, to hurl something at Morwin's head. "I almost had Jasper exactly where you needed him - but he got suspicious about Aurora. And then he acted out of sheer madness - "

For the first time in nearly an hour, Morwin spoke. "Do not blame your ineptitudes on me, Threeves. If Aurora was really going to be that much of a problem, I don't see why you didn't wipe his memories again."

Threeves seethed. Wipe his memories. "Because," he reminded Morwin, King of Aramore, "you said you wanted him to communicate with the Guardians. That couldn't happen if he didn't remember he could speak to them."

Spent, Threeves sat on one of the stone benches. Morwin's gaze felt like icy hands on his face and Threeves wanted nothing more than to hide behind the bench, fully aware of the risks he took in speaking with such hate. Out of sheer insanity, however, Threeves almost believed he could beat Morwin in a fight - strength of wills, strength of magic - who was to say which of them was greater?

As though Morwin could tell what he was thinking, the male crossed his ankle over his knee and leaned back into the bench. It was a posture of repose, but it was also an act. Upon hearing of Jasper's escape, Morwin had summoned Threeves immediately and spent several hours boring holes into his head with his glares.

"Might I remind you," Morwin said, "that your conditions were dependent upon Jasper's suffering. Keeping Aurora away and alive was the only way to guarantee that."

"So you claim," Threeves snapped.

"So I know."

"How do I know this isn't your own conflict of interest coming into play? Perhaps your personal feelings are getting confused with the - "

Too far. Threeves had pushed too far, and Morwin shot forward, eyes flashing purple and green. Vines arced down from above and seized Threeves by the throat, squeezing until nothing but the smallest wisp of air slipped through.

While Threeves struggled against the vines, Morwin towered over him, face darkened with rage.

"Never," he hissed, "say such things to me again."

Given that he was choking, Threeves was not in the position to agree or disagree.

"I assure you, Barty," Morwin continued, "that my personal convictions are solely focused on the summoning. Whatever and whomever they include is none of your concern."

Lights began to dance in front of Barty's vision, the air squeezing out of his throat in a short, raspy hiss.

Morwin bared his teeth. Normally hidden, fangs began to sprout out of his upper jaw, a reminder that Morwin, while Fae, was equally something else. Something akin to Varek's people.

"But," Morwin's voice softened, as he regained control of his temper, "this is merely a setback. Maybe Aurora will serve a useful purpose, after all."

With a flick of his long, nimble fingers, the vines released, and Threeves sagged against the bench, coughing and gagging. Morwin sat back down opposite him, resuming his posture of ease.

"Jasper can still speak to the Guardians. And if my agent is correct, he will still try to keep Umbraxis from opening the gates. Which means we may yet be able to turn this to our advantage."

Threeves tried to answer, by his throat was too bruised to speak.

Morwin continued his monologue, thoughts unfurling before him like a flower in the sun. "With Aurora in their company…then all we need to do is move the location of the summoning. Perhaps, instead of the shining Aetherill, we host it in Nivarin. In this very room."

Threeves wasn't following.

Morwin elaborated, speaking very slowly, as though addressing a child. "We have Dorian," he reminded Threeves. "Which means, if Aurora's behavior remains unchanged, that they will bring the keys to me."

A gamble, Threeves knew, realizing what Morwin was saying - but one that they hadn't needed to make until now. Morwin was the master of adaptation, however; it was the only reason he'd survived this long. Suddenly, asking for the child began to make much more sense. It occurred to him that perhaps it hadn't been solely to appease Valeria; perhaps, in his infinite foresight, Morwin had known he'd need any additional bargaining pieces he could find.

---

The fire that had started during the prison breach had claimed over sixty percent of the Hall of the Order, and though he knew it would be a nightmare to repair, Orion felt a warm swell of pride as he took it in. He couldn't explain the strange feeling - Jasper had betrayed them, had broken about seventy-three different laws, and had killed three of the Knights of the Order - and yet, despite it all, Orion was very nearly happy for him.

It was a feeling he kept very much to himself.

Hera, favorite of Bartholomew Threeves, knight of the finest regard, and newly appointed chief-of-recall, stalked about the wreckage in a monumental rage. As morning dawned upon Aetherill, the vaulted ceiling began to collapse, great chunks of it clattering to the marble floors in heaps.

Orion stood in a corner and watched her swear and kick the rubble. The other knights did the same - no one wanted to intercept Hera's anger.

His gaze fell upon Zephyra, stone-faced on the opposite side of the room. The Superbird was gone, torn to shreds in the chase. Hers wasn't the only one, but it left a blow both of them felt deeply.

Hera let out a yell of rage, sparks flying out of her fingers. She was a Fae gifted with extremely volatile magic, and if he hadn't been ordered to stay, Orion would have already fled. A stream of foulness escaped her mouth, her jaw working feverishly as she beheld the nigh-impossible task that stood before them. Rebuild the hall. Retrieve the prisoners. Find the monsters still lost in the realms. Bring back Jasper, Aurora, and Rohan. Make them suffer.

Well - the suffering part hadn't been stated, but Orion had no doubt that the moment Hera found Jasper, she would bash his head in.

"Insolent, irreverent, insipid little Fae!" Hera bellowed, to the extent that the remaining bits of the ceiling wobbled at the sound. "How am I supposed to believe that such a useless, magic-less imp was capable of all this?"

Orion winced as she kicked a chunk of still-smoking rubble in his direction. It was meaningless; she had nothing against him, of course; but he wanted nothing to do with her fury. Zephyra, however, stepped up to her.

"He's not in his right mind," Zephyra said. "It was the athrubhan witch - "

Hera rounded on her. "This is your fault," she snapped. "Your whole dysfunctional team started this when you failed your assignment in Denmark. Now, because of you three idiots - " she swept her arm wide, so that Orion would make no mistake in that he was included - "I'm saddled with the responsibility of your mess."

Zephyra's face flushed purple. Orion took a step away from the two females, ready to hide; but the others were not as wise.

"Your team," Hera seethed, "has been nothing but a hindrance to the Order since the very beginning. The witless wonder you call Jasper has managed to make a fool out of the Order and a fool out of us. When Barty returns, he's going to have all our hides, because you - "

Zephyra launched herself at Hera. Orion ducked beneath a pile of rubble as the air in the room grew thin and hot and the others struggled to breathe. He wasn't sure what, exactly, she was defending (she, he knew, agreed with Hera on almost all counts) but it didn't make sense to argue with her. He was the only one in attendance who seemed to know her well enough to tell.

The altercation lasted only a few moments, however, before the room shook again and more debris fell. This time, however, the groaning of the Hall's foundations was accompanied by a shrill hissing sound that made Orion's ears ache. Darkness began to flood in from the corners of the room, even amidst the weak morning sunlight, as right before them a rift began to open.

Claw-like blades of darkness appeared in the middle of the air, tearing through the fabric of space like a blade through flesh. Orion had heard of the process but had never seen it before: there was such grace in the movement, but also such force, and the sound it made knocked all those standing to their feet. Hera and Zephyra scrambled away from the forming hole, as more tendrils began to leak from it, widening the gap until they could see through to the other side.

It was like looking through a mirror, or a human television, grainy with static.

Orion recognized the creature that began to crawl its way through the hole. It reminded him of a hatching snake, struggling against the shell, working its round head this way and that as it found its strength. The sight of the thing, its red, glaring eyes, its sharp, black teeth, turned his blood to ice and his body to stone. Fear rippled through him and pinned him to the ground. The Shadow Man.

Umbraxis.

Bigger than before. More solid than before. Angrier than before.

A voice rippled through the hissing, living-but-not-living.

Where is it? The Shadow Man asked, slithering between them. He did not move his mouth to speak, but seemed able, somehow, to whisper directly into their ears. Orion felt the voice like icy fingers against his skin.

I felt it here. It called to me. Where has it gone?

Hera struggled to her feet, summoning blades of fire that rose to her sides. Even against this thing, she was beautifully terrifying and, dare Orion think it, fearless.

That's because she doesn't know what it can do, Orion reminded himself.

Umbraxis fixed his gaze on Hera. For a moment, it looked as though that jagged mouth quirked into a smile. You are not Jasper.

"Jasper's gone," Hera snarled. "You'll have to contend with me."

The world around them rumbled - a laugh, Orion realized, a moment too late. In the next, Umbraxis opened his mouth, lunged towards Hera, and consumed her.

---

“Do you like music?”

Aurora startled out of a doze. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was, and she threw out her hands in attempts to gain her bearings, hitting Jasper squarely in the chest. He coughed to cover his surprise, and Aurora retracted her flailing limbs, heat rushing to her cheeks.

They were still in the car. In front of them, the credits rolled, jazzy music filling the air around them. Other cars were pulling away, and Jasper rolled up the windows as the engine began to purr.

“Music,” Aurora repeated dumbly. “Yes…what?”

Jasper chuckled. The sound utterly surprised her, so foreign coming from him.

“Music,” he said. “As in, do you ever listen to the radio? Most Fae don’t, but you’ve been here in the human realm enough that I thought you might. I was wondering what you liked.”

She was glad it was dark, because the darkness hid the confused expression on her face - but then she remembered that Jasper could see better in the dark than most. To him, it was likely bright as day.

“I can’t say I know anything,” Aurora admitted. She and Rohan had been on the run for so long that she hadn’t taken the time to study human culture.

It was an invitation, she realized, because the Mustang’s radio flicked on and a strange song began to filter quietly through the speakers. Jasper put the car in reverse and slowly backed out, following the line of cars away from the theater.

“It’s called Queen,” Jasper explained. “They have these instruments - way different than anything we have back home. And they make music just…because. No reason at all.”

Aurora watched him through the dark, his face different from before - suddenly bright and excited. “I have this theory, see, that since humans don’t have magic, they’ve compensated for it in so many other ways. The Fae seem to think it makes them primitive, but I don’t. We don’t have science like this, or medicine, or music. Magic has made us lazy. These guys, however - ”

He tapped the radio with a finger. “They made magic of their own, out of nothing.”

“And you just…listen to it?” Aurora asked.

“Right. You just listen to it.”

“But you said you didn’t like doing that. Remember the music festival? You made a whole point of not wanting to be there.”

“No - that had nothing to do with the music. It had everything to do with the people there. Music should be treated reverently, and with respect - “

Aurora began to laugh.

Jasper scowled. "What's amusing about that?"

"Nothing," she assured him. There was a lightness in her chest, and she wanted to cling to it, to hold it as long as she could. "I just…it surprised me. You don't seem to be the sentimental type."

"I'm not."

Aurora gave him a knowing look. Perhaps he wasn't - but perhaps if she didn't have any of her memories, she wouldn't be, either.

"Do you have a favorite?" she asked, partly because she didn't know what else to say, and partly because she desperately wanted him to keep talking. This was the closest to a normal conversation they'd been since…forever.

The car gave a jolt, and Aurora realized a moment later that it was because the question had startled Jasper. He wore a funny look - mouth pressed together, eyebrows furrowed in thought - and drove for several seconds before saying, "how is anyone supposed to choose a favorite? There's no way to quantify music - it's too subjective - and if I were to choose, for example, Queen, who's to say on a different day I might change my mind?"

Aurora did her best to stifle her laughter as she replied, "favorite, Jasper. Not best. No one's asking you to get rid of the ones you don't choose."

That incredible brain of his, however, found itself stuck in the mud of an unanswerable question. This used to frustrate her immensely, and she vividly remembered a dozen or so arguments beginning with, it's a simple question, Jasper, not a dissertation. Now, however, she was glad to see that expression again, even if it had infuriated her in the past.

"Simplify it," she reminded him. The words were familiar, rehearsed. Ellie had taught her this. "If you feel a certain way, what do you listen to?"

His shoulders relaxed. Aurora hadn't realized the stress she'd put him under until he let out a breath and said, "depends on the feeling."

"Right now?"

"Silence, preferably."

"You are not one for silence."

"How do you - "

He stopped himself. The mood stilled, the stranger in the conversation reminding them that while she easily slipped back into her old self, he was still searching for it. Aurora's smile faltered.

"When you're sad, then."

"Radiohead."

She didn't know the group, but figured if she heard the music it would be familiar. She was starting to think that none of his music tastes had changed in the last decade.

"If you're angry?"

"I guess…Radiohead."

"And if you're happy?"

Silence. The car jostled over a bump in the road, saving them both from an answer, and the motel came into view.

"I'd break it down into individual songs, actually," Jasper said, still wearing that funny look. They pulled into the motel parking lot and saw Rohan, standing in the doorframe to their room.

The great, red-bearded Fae was seething, face red and twitching in worry and anger. As Jasper got out of the car, he hissed, "where were you - "

Jasper answered by throwing the bag of fried food at him. Rohan caught it, bewildered, and looked inside.

"Getting you something to eat, you half-wit," Jasper said, with a tone so familiar that Rohan met Aurora's gaze with a spark of hope.

She shook her head slightly but couldn't repress the smile that battled for custody of her face. As she got out of the car, her leg began to ache and her head began to spin, and it was time, she knew, for a long and dreamless sleep.

Jasper didn't go into the room with them. He leaned against the driver's side door and drank long and deeply from his flask, watching them disappear into the motel room. Once the door closed, Rohan asked, "what happened?"

"I told him," Aurora said. She sank back onto the bed. Her stomach was full, and her limbs were heavy, and all she wanted to do was sleep.

"And?"

"He took it well."

"Does he believe you?"

"I don't know. But he didn't call me a liar. And he didn't leave me behind."

Rohan blinked in amazement. What Aurora didn't say, and what she didn't have the strength to say as she crawled under the mildewy blankets, was that Jasper hadn't given her any indication at all that he even cared. Perhaps he was hiding it - digesting the information, and waiting for comprehension to react, as he'd done before - but perhaps he was simply humoring them. She had no way of knowing the extent of the damage Threeves had done. As she drifted off to sleep, Aurora wasn't sure she had the heart to find out.

---

Jasper savored the bitterness of the whiskey and used the burning sensation to ground his spinning mind. Now that he was alone, he sank onto the curb and looked up at the stars, thinking too many things at once.

Aurora hadn't made the blood oath. She could lie to him, and he would never know.

That didn't unsettle him, though. In fact, it was the prospect that she was likely telling him the truth that set him on edge. There were worse things in the world than potentially having an athrubhan for a wife (the politics of that situation were far too complicated for even him to consider in that moment) but what he didn't understand was why this had all been hidden from him.

So what if he'd been married to her? Why did Barty care enough to hide it? And if what she said was true, why was Barty so desperate to keep them apart? Wouldn't it have been easier to simply recreate the life he'd had, without the pieces that were inconvenient to him?

Once, Jasper might have tried to convince himself that it was all coincidence. Aurora had been an oversight. Or a liar. But he had the polaroids, now, and in far too many of them did he look…happy.

With her.

And that faithless little blood-pump in his chest gave a flutter of acknowledgement. This complicated things.

Sometime later (Jasper wasn't keeping track of the time, due to the fact that he was struggling to care about anything in that moment), the door to the motel room opened and Rohan joined him on the curb. He sat, his hulking form entirely too close, and scowled at Jasper as he shimmied away from him.

"You're taking all of this in stride," Rohan observed, casting a disparaging look at the flask.

Jasper ignored him and drank anyway. There were no ghosts here, which was odd - he'd thought a shady motel in the middle of nowhere would house at least two murder victims. How disappointing.

"I haven't decided if it's true," Jasper said. "Or I'm in shock."

"It's true," Rohan affirmed. "Aurora didn't make the blood oath, but I did. And every word she told you is true. Except the bit about the child - that's unverifiable."

Jasper's stomach turned, and he swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat. His head swam a little bit more with each word.

"I'd like to see the photos," Rohan continued.

"In the back seat," Jasper supplied.

Rohan got up and retrieved the ruck sack. He gave it to Jasper, who took out the camera and the polaroids.

"This was my camera," Rohan said, examining it. "It's got my initials in it, see?"

Rohan showed them to Jasper, carved into the camera on the bottom.

"Why did Barty take it?" Jasper asked.

"Who knows? He's a miserable old fool. We got it on our first assignment - maybe he knew it was sentimental, and that's why he has it. Some sort of leverage."

"We?" Jasper honed in on the word, turning a sharp look on Rohan.

Rohan sighed. "We," he repeated. "You, me, and Aurora. Knights of the Order. One of the finest teams the realms had ever seen. Our first assignment was some techno-wizard in New York, 1996. He tried to take the whole grid down. It was quite a show."

Rohan smiled a sad smile. "We tried to kill each other all the time, but we had fun. Aurrie was the only thing that held us together. She's patient - I think that's the only reason she survived all that time in the asylum. But you and me? We'd fight it out every other day."

Jasper took in Rohan's massive size and would have doubted him, if Rohan hadn't sworn himself to absolute truth.

"Why did you get pinned?" Jasper asked. It was one of a long list of questions, but perhaps the most important one, followed by, "and why didn't you get it taken out?" 

Rohan waited a few moments before he said, "because I betrayed the Order. But, Jazz, they betrayed you first." He kept turning the camera over and over in his large hands, as he continued, "I wasn't there for you when I should have been. I wasn't at the party, and I didn't know you had gone to speak to James. I kept thinking that…perhaps if I'd been there, things may have gone differently, and we wouldn't have been in this mess."

Jasper had a myriad of questions - starting with, I'm supposed to believe that James Ravenscroft is my father? - but kept them to himself. He could tell Rohan wasn't finished, and soon enough, he resumed.

"I was expelled from the Order when I tried to uncover what they'd done to you and Aurora. I tried to amass a rebellion with our friends, and managed to get just about all of them killed. They pinned me and clipped me and that was the end of it."

"And you never got the pin out."

"No." 

"Why?"

"Because I deserve this."

He said it simply, passing judgement. Jasper frowned. "Rohan, I'm struggling to see how you being there would have changed anything."

Rohan groaned in irritation.

Jasper pressed on. "I don't remember much," he admitted, "but while we were in Italy, I did remember something. I told Aurora about it, and I'm surprised she didn't tell you."

He quickly relayed the vision he'd had in Italy, what he now believed had been a memory of his death. He followed it by saying, "I firmly believe now that if you had been there, you'd be dead, too. Whoever dealt the killing blow was incredibly efficient."

Rohan chewed into his lip. "I've had ten years to think about it. I think you're wrong."

"And I think it's a stupid argument. There's no point thinking about the past - it's not like we can go back to it."

At least, he didn't think it was possible. So far as he knew, the Knights of the Order had never found a way to time travel within the Fae realm - only to other realms. Anything that happened there was set in stone.

"That can't be the only question you have," Rohan said, changing the subject. "After all this…I'm sure you have plenty. You wouldn't be you if you didn't."

"Oh, there are many," Jasper agreed. "But sorting them out is going to take time. I don't even understand how to ask them yet."

The man who fell in love with the moon. He remembered looking up at the portraits at Ravenscroft, and Zephyra saying something about how he would fit up there, too.

And if James was Umbraxis…

That thought alone was enough to still his mind completely. There was a reason he was so deeply connected to the Shadow Man, and perhaps this was it.

"Is this why the Guardians wanted me deal with Umbraxis?" he asked, more to himself than to Rohan. "Because James is my…"

He didn't finish. He didn't need to, though, because Rohan nodded. "Umbraxis has been a plague on the realms for a decade. The Guardians think you can reason with him, or something like that. I think he needs to be destroyed. We need the seven keys to do that, and the Guardians have them."

Seven keys. Seven Guardians. Suddenly, Jasper's meeting with Sydara made a little more sense. She'd told him to seek their blessings - perhaps she meant the keys.

"How do we find them?" he asked.

Before Rohan could answer, a sharp cry startled the both of them. Rohan responded to it instinctually, jumping to his feet and nearly dropping the camera as he raced for the motel door. Jasper felt the other stir, and for the first time since its arrival he had the nerve to ask it, who are you?

To his great surprise, it answered: I remember.

Another noise of pain told him that it was Aurora, crying out in her sleep. Jasper rushed in after Rohan, taking in the scene: Aurora, flailing and beating her arms and limbs against the mattress, Rohan holding her down. She raked her nails through one cheek, tangling her fingers in his beard, and she screamed like a wounded bird. Her eyes were wide and wild, pupils dilated, and it didn't appear that she recognized either of them.

"It's her sickness," Rohan explained over the noise. "She has these fits - "

Aurora thrashed. Jasper was too close - she stuck out a foot and kicked him in the jaw, sending him hurtling backwards. Through a mix of blood and pain, Jasper said, "what do we do?"

"Under normal circumstances, I'd sedate her," Rohan said. "But we don't have any of her medicine, and without Lucrezia - "

"Lucrezia!" Jasper said, almost at the same time. "Get her in the car. We'll go to Lucrezia."

"But we don't know where she is. We can't use the amulet - "

"We can. I've done it. It'll just be bumpy."

He quickly gathered up their things, while Rohan picked up Aurora's flailing body and carried her to the car. Jasper left the key to their motel room in the lockbox by the front office, and, with an urgency he couldn't quite explain, raced back to the Mustang.

Jasper Nightingale, Master of Shadows, cared very little about the ailments of other people. He had to a job to do, and once he did it he retreated back into his hole until the next assignment arrived. Jasper Nightingale, however, was slipping out of this reality and into some distant realm that was starting to no longer matter. Tonight, Jasper Ravenscroft was at the wheel.

---

The sounds coming from the backseat were hideous – grunting and snarling and screaming. Aurora battled against invisible demons. Jasper tried to ignore the sound as he drove the Mustang away from the motel. He tried to drown it out as he gripped the amulet and conjured the face of the Fae female he’d met in Italy. He repeated her name a hundred times in his head, a mantra that drummed against the walls of his mind. He pressed the pedal down as far as it would go, speeding into the cool California night, and opened the portal.

Jasper’s stomach jolted as the car leapt through the rift, and then they were no longer in the human realm, but somewhere else.

Somewhere far away.

The car’s tires screeched. Jasper slammed on the brakes, recalling the crash in Denmark. He was momentarily blinded by sudden sunlight, but the car steered itself away from trees and down a long path. They were high in the mountains somewhere. As Jasper gained his bearings, he made out ancient stone structures towering the sky.

He put the car in park and scrambled out of the driver’s seat. An alarm sounded within the structure, and within moments, monks in dapple-gray robes began to flood into the courtyard. Jasper watched as Rohan pulled Aurora, still thrashing, from the back seat and lay her in the warm grass. He didn’t see Lucrezia anywhere.

Jasper stayed by the car, unmoving and unspeaking. Rohan called out for Lucrezia. The bewildered monks crowded around, staring down at Aurora. She was now frothing at the mouth, eyes rolling into the back of her head. Jasper couldn’t tear his eyes away. Something in him told him to move, to stay by her side, to help; something else told him to stay. Shrink back into the car. Drive away.

He did neither, completely paralyzed.

Staring at Aurora, seeing her like this…a memory began to surface.

At least, he thought it was a memory. A dark, tumultuous night, long ago - a desperate search for the antidote. The fear in his throat was familiar and for a few moments Jasper couldn't remember how to breathe. He was stuck between past and present, between what he saw and what he imagined. A hopelessness that threatened to overwhelm him sank its teeth into the back of his neck -

“Move!”

Lucrezia’s voice broke his reverie, and the monks parted for her. She fell by Aurora’s side, interrogating Rohan about what had happened to her. Her aged face was wrought with worry. Someone else followed behind, but this male did not look down at Aurora.

Instead, he looked pointedly at Jasper.

He wore a small smile – one of knowing. Those grey eyes seemed to pierce his skin, down into his very soul. Jasper wanted to crawl back into the car.

"She'll be alright," Lucrezia was saying, her voice as calm as ever. "Let's get her to the infirmary. Out of my way!"

Again, the monks parted as Lucrezia rose. Rohan gathered up Aurora's thrashing frame, carrying her easily, as though he didn't notice the way she dug her broken nails into his skin. Jasper, however, didn't move. He was pinned to the car but the remaining monk with the grey eyes, and when the other Fae spoke, he had to resist the urge to back into the car and drive away.

"You are the child of Elysande Eltheron," he said, the smile growing, although it was now full of sadness. "You favor her, Jasper."

It wasn't a question - not exactly. Yet Jasper felt as though the Fae was waiting for him to confirm it.

"My name is Yorihito," he continued, with a polite nod of the head. "Although - you may call me Yori, as do all my friends."

"It's probably redundant to ask how you know my name," Jasper grumbled back, "given that everyone else seems to."

Yori chuckled. "You are right, it is a bit redundant. Yet, for your ease of mind, your mother was one of my dearest friends. I miss her every day."

Jasper didn't know how to answer. The fact was that he still didn't know how all the pieces fit - and the revelation of Elysande's identity (or alleged identity; he wasn't entirely convinced) hadn't found its place among Jasper's list of immediate concerns.

"Come with me," Yori prompted, when Jasper still didn't move. "You are seeking the Guardians, yes? You are looking for the keys? I can help you."

Despite a little siren wailing in the back of his mind, Jasper decided to follow the little being away from the Mustang. He'd only taken a few steps, however, before a wave of exhaustion washed over him so completely that, for a moment, he forgot where he was. How long had it been since he slept? Since he'd eaten? He couldn't remember. His stomach was empty now, save for whatever drink he'd stashed away in between breaking Aurora and Rohan out and now. The world around him began to spin, and without much control over his own limbs, he sank to the ground very close to where Aurora had been.

The strange little Fae came to his side, looking down with unabated interest.

"Curious," he said, and Jasper thought he caught a hint of a smile.

"I think I'll just go back to the car," Jasper said, swallowing several times. His throat was parched.

"I think you should come with me," Yori insisted, still gentle, but more intense than the last time. He seemed almost…excited.

Jasper wanted to lay down in the grass and sleep. Although it was clearly Autumn here, it the sunshine was warm and the ground was soft. He felt like a cat, seeking out sunbeams and stretching out to sleep. Still, at Yorihito's insistence he forced himself to stand. He took a few more steps, expanding his distance to the Mustang's beckoning interior. Yori walked beside him.

The other Fae didn't speak, but Jasper had the distinct feeling of being studied. Like Lucrezia, desperate to take his blood, Yori also wanted something - though he had yet to reveal what it was. The sensation was an unwelcome one.

"Things will move along more swiftly if you just tell me what you want," Jasper snarled. He conjured up the image of his hideous couch, for once in his life considering it longingly. All he wanted to do was sleep.

"I want to help you in your quest," Yori repeated. "Have you heard of the Library?"

"I know what a library is."

"Not any library. The Library - the one which holds the knowledge of all the realms."

"No. Should I?"

"Yes, Jasper. You've been here many times. In fact, you've contributed quite a bit of its music collection. You have my thanks."

They were not, in fact, following Lucrezia, Rohan and Aurora. Yori took him in a different direction, into the darkened halls of the sanctuary's interior, and they began the descent down a darkened tunnel.

"In order to defeat Umbraxis, put Bartholomew Threeves back in his place, and defeat the darkness threatening all of our lands, you will need the seven keys. The first one is here."

Down and down they went, and despite his exhaustion, Jasper's curiosity remained intact.

"The first key is truth," Yori elaborated. "Without it, you will never discover the others."

---

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