Page 48 of The Alien in the Archive (Galactic Librarians #1)

48

THORNE

I n the morning, we don’t waste time delaying the inevitable.

Mythara Village is silent when we step outside. No sounds of the city reach us here, just the faint rustle of leaves in the early morning light and the steady rhythm of our footsteps. Page walks beside me, her hand laced tightly with mine, her grip firm and unyielding.

She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t have to. Her thoughts hum through the bond, a constant undercurrent of tension, hope, and dread.

Neither of us slept much.

Now, it’s time.

I look at her out of the corner of my eye, the way she keeps her chin high even though her shoulders are taut with nerves. She’s wearing her usual, practical clothes—a sweater and fitted trousers, a blazer over it all. Her hair is in slightly messy waves around her shoulder. She’d call it her “research look.” I call it the look of a woman ready to take on the galaxy .

She’s put me in a dark red shirt she borrowed from Riley, along with a pair of slacks…but she said it just made me look “more spooky”.

No time for a change in wardrobe. We have to do this today.

“Are you sure?” she asks softly. Out loud this time. It’s the third time she’s said it since we left. Her voice is steady, but her thoughts waver.

“Yes,” I reply. “We’ve already decided. Davina will be waiting.”

Her gaze flicks toward me, searching my face as though looking for some last-minute crack in my resolve. I offer her a faint smile, squeezing her hand. “Whatever happens…we’re ready.”

Her lips press into a thin line, but she doesn’t argue. Her grip tightens, and we walk on.

People start to notice us as soon as we reach the train station, exchanging frightened glances and whispers. The psychic chatter is nearly too much for me.

Is that what I think it is?

I thought they were all gone.

What is a human doing with a monster like that?

Should we call security?

Page’s hand tightens and tightens and tightens around mine. Her anxiety ratchets up. I desperately try to stay calm.

“Page,” I murmur. “You need to control your thoughts. I don’t want you using your powers on accident.”

“You’re right,” she says, trying to breathe. “It’s just…they’re all so loud.”

“I’ve got you,” I reply. “I promise.”

By the time we get off the train, people are giving us a wide berth, some even turning to escape. The path is cleared for us to the entrance of the Grand Library, which I haven’t seen in daylight in well over a century. We walk together, side by side, under the majestic arches and into the library’s entry hall.

Gasps echo through the massive chamber. It’s instinctual, a ripple of shock that follows us down the marble floors, like a wave gathering momentum. Page doesn’t look at anyone, doesn’t falter. I don’t either. I keep my eyes forward. The bond screams with her panic and mine, but we don’t let it show.

More gasps. A couple of whispers. A flash of motion from the corner of my eye—someone running to find out what’s happening. I catch a glimpse of our reflections in the towering windows as we move, hand-in-hand, through the hall. To them, I must look like a walking myth—a Borean in full sight, a living relic. Page looks like a woman stepping toward disaster, though her steps never waver.

Davina is standing just inside with a group of intermingled Merati, Skoll, and Mlok security guards, their black uniforms crisp, their stances sharp. Kaelion Rhyss stands off to the side, hands folded behind his back. He watches us with more than a little apprehension, and I can feel his fear rolling off him in waves.

I feel…guilty.

Because he’s from Eyela, where we cracked the planet in two.

The guards fall into step around us as we walk up, Page not letting go of my hand. I wish she would give me more distance, but she’s insistent on staying close. Davina walks up to us, the only one who isn’t terrified to do so.

“Page,” she says evenly, her voice carrying. “Thorne.”

Page inhales sharply beside me. I can feel her pulse thrumming through the bond, the effort it takes for her to remain steady .

I give her hand one last squeeze before letting go…practically wrenching my hand away from her. A psychic wave washes over me from her, but I force myself to ignore it.

This is mine to carry.

I step forward. The guards tense at my approach, and I see the way their hands hover near their weapons. I don’t blame them. Borean stories have lingered in the nightmares of the Pact species for millennia.

They were taught to fear me before they even knew my name.

I don’t stop walking until I’m standing in the center of the room, where the light pours down in sharp, white beams. I raise my chin, meeting every gaze I can.

“I am Thorne Valtheris,” I say, my voice clear. “I am a Borean fugitive, and I have been hiding in the Obscuary for two hundred years.”

A murmur sweeps through the hall. The guards stiffen. Rhyss narrows his eyes, looking like a man who’s both vindicated and unsettled. Davina doesn’t move.

I don’t look at Page. I don’t dare.

The words keep spilling from me, smooth and deliberate, as though I’ve rehearsed them a hundred times. “I sought refuge in the Obscuary after fleeing my empire. I was part of the dissent prior to the Convergence. I had no intention of causing harm, only to survive. I have revealed myself now willingly, on my terms, because I believe the knowledge I carry is of greater value to this world than my silence.”

I hear someone whispering at the back of the hall, the word Borean repeated in a hush of disbelief. I force myself to stay still.

Rhyss steps forward. “You expect us to believe that?” His tone is sharp, skeptical. “A Borean— you —choosing to reveal yourself? Why? What game are you playing?”

“You have every right to be angry with my kind, and with me,” I tell him. “That’s why I’m surrendering to security of my own volition—because I wish to atone.”

Davina steps forward, placing herself deliberately between me and the guards. “Thorne has turned himself in willingly. And as a scholar, I will remind you all that his presence is an unprecedented opportunity for understanding—one that must be handled with care.”

Rhyss’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt her.

I risk a glance at Page. She’s standing where I left her, pale but resolute. Our bond flares, sharp and strained, as her thoughts rush toward me.

You need to stay calm, Page. If you do anything it could make things worse…

I can’t answer, can’t soothe her. My walls are up now, a shield to keep my calm from cracking.

One of the guards steps forward. “Thorne Valtheris,” he says. “The authorities have been notified of your presence and a tribunal has been called. Until your case has been heard, you’ll need to come with us.”

The guards close in, hands on their weapons, though they don’t draw. I keep my hands at my sides, every muscle in my body tense, ready— calm —as they approach.

Page’s mind is screaming.

I don’t move as the guards cuff my wrists behind my back with some metal alloy I don’t recognize. A dull hum vibrates through the restraints. A psycho-suppressant field. Of course; they were used on Borean prisoners all the time on Borealis. I can already feel the pressure of it, suppressing the bond just enough to leave me dizzy.

I keep my eyes on Page as they begin to lead me toward the door.

Her gaze burns into mine, grey eyes wide, filled with everything she can’t say out loud.

I’m here , I try to tell her with a look. We’re not done .

They guide me out of the hall, through a back corridor I’ve never seen before, and I don’t look back. If I do, I’ll see her. If I see her, I’ll want to stop.

And I can’t.

Not until I’ve proven my innocence…or at least, my intention to make amends.