Chapters (102)
The librarians were beekeepers who loved ancient literature and welcomed everyone. Were they foolish? Naïve? Mango trumpeted a greeting. Librarians and refugees cheered her. A man in blue-violet pirate pants with a purple librarian sash across a broad chest charged down the marble steps. He looked like Orca, a bit thinner, head and chin shaved. Djola’s heart wheel stuttered. The librarian grinned and waved. He had dimpled chin and cheeks.
“That’s Boto, the rebel librarian.” Bal waved at him. “He stands with the People.”
“You,” Djola shouted and shook his head. “Alive?”
“Yes, and Vandana too,” Boto replied.
“Vandana? You crack my heart.” Djola pressed a hand to his chest. “Boto now?”
“Abelzowadyo,” Boto yelled.
“Yes.” Djola shook his head, his heart wheel racing.
“How does Boto know your plan?” Bal looked wounded.
“Abelzowadyo is not just Djola’s plan.” Kyrie answered for Djola.
Other librarians gripped Boto, holding him back. They whispered in his ear, and Boto waved one last time before reluctantly returning to the library.
“You two are old friends?” Awa said.
“He was Orca on the pirate ship.” Djola chuckled. “I worried Pezarrat might have cut his head off to spite me.”
“Orca.” Awa smiled too. “He saved your life many times.”
“Books and Bones lost heart,” Kyrie said. “He abandoned Council and returned to his lair.” She sighed. “He wanders the library and leaves Council work to Boto. Azizi will gather everyone tomorrow or the next day. Boto must prepare.”
Bal arched an eyebrow. “Money thinks Boto is loyal to their cause.”
“What is their cause?” Awa asked.
Bal shrugged. “Staying in power and stealing what they can.”
Awa sucked her teeth at this easy response.
Djola nodded. “Orca was a good spy.”
“You made a rebel of him and of Vandana too,” Kyrie said.
“Vandana, the Mama Zamba warrior woman, a rebel? Well, she already was.” Djola rubbed his brow. “How big, how organized is this rebellion?”
“It’s as big as all the People together,” Awa said. “Kyrie told you already, when we were coming down the mountain.”
“Ah. Tell me again.” Djola sat up straight. “I wasn’t quite right in my mind.”
“Did you think all we needed was you to save us?” Kyrie teased him with truth.
“I haven’t thought that for a while. But the rebels were just a mob.”
“Warrior-clowns, Anawanama and Zamanzi, organized all the factions. They know how to put on a show.” Kyrie chuckled. “We’ll speak more later. Anyone might know Anawanama.” She pointed at a crowd of scowling faces from across the Empire and beyond, all the People together. Zamanzi and Anawanama hated each other in the best of times. Most good citizens had contempt for savages, even for Lahesh tinkerers. Nobody trusted pirates or barbarian thief-lords who raided and plundered their own mothers.
“Fatazz!” Djola grimaced. A People’s rebellion could become turf wars on an upbeat. “No getting around yesterday’s blood.”