By the time we reached the musical cobblestones outside the library, it wasn’t my imagination that each step sounded like a note of doom that grew increasingly bleaker. It reminded me of a piano so far out of tune that it could be mistaken for nails on a chalkboard. Gargoyles perched on the slanted roof of the library were flapping their wings against the wind.

The hinges creaked as the peacekeeper pushed open the double doors. We stepped into the lobby beneath high ceilings decorated in crystals hanging from strings. The walls were lined with portraits, starting with Alvarra “Tiny” Teek, the current head librarian, according to the metal plaque. There had to be hundreds of portraits arranged in neat rows from the top of the walls to the bottom, each of a past head librarian.

Eli fanned his hand in front of his face. “It smells like a ten-day-old fart in here.”

“How would you know what a ten-day-old fart smells like?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. He really could be ridiculous sometimes.

He winked at me. “Trust me, I know.”

Eleni inhaled deeply as she took in the sight of the library. “That’s the smell of well-worn books that have stood the test of time.”

We stopped in front of the empty check-out desk. Three long hallways branched out from the lobby, each shrouded in shadows. In the back of the library, a staircase spiraled up to a second-floor balcony. It was so quiet that we could hear our footsteps echoing. The thought crossed my mind that Frankie might have left with the rest of the people who were evacuating, but we had to be sure.

“Frankie could be anywhere,” I said. “This place is huge.”

The doors to the library slammed shut behind us, and the peacekeeper stood in front of them, tapping one of her heels. She wore an ugly smile, and for the first time, I realized that I’d seen her somewhere before. “The four of you are so pathetic. Two want-to-be guardians, a boy who relies on ghosts to fight his battles, and the traitor.” Her voice dropped into a mocking tone. “Looking for the girl with the dead mother, are you?”

That was cold. I might have been wrong, but I got the distinct feeling that this peacekeeper had a bone to pick with us. “Who are you?”

“I am called Butcher,” she spat. “I heard you were looking for my friends and me.”

“Butcher,” Eleni spluttered. “That’s . . . um, quite a name you have there.”

“You’re about to find out how I earned it,” Butcher said proudly.