"Really?" Jess asked. Dario shrugged without commenting. "Who put you up to it?"
"Who's the one person I will unquestionably obey?"
Khalila, of course. That went without saying. "So why did she turn on the Library, really?" Jess asked, and jerked his head toward Zara. Not very hard, so as not to lose his balance. He could take a lot. He wasn't sure he could stomach Dario Santiago having to come to his rescue.
"I think she really did miss the captain," Dario said. "And his soldiers didn't have the heart to turn against him. He's well liked, and she isn't, so it's in her best interests to stay loyal to him. Always an on or off with that one. Loyal, or not. I never know what to make of her, but Santi does. I suppose that's all that matters."
"So . . . ," Jess said slowly. "We have . . . an army?"
"Two companies' worth, possibly three, but they won't be of any use to us until it comes to a real fight," Dario said. "Still. That's . . . not insignificant." He was right about that. That was stunning. Defections from the High Garda were rare, and defections of entire companies? Unheard of. Jess imagined the Archivist's face turning a shade somewhere between crimson and eggplant when those companies turned on him. Maybe he'd burst his heart in fury. That would be most welcome.
"Chess," Jess said quietly. "Three moves ahead."
"And now would be the time to plan it," Dario agreed. "We'll have troops moving into position in Alexandria that we can count on. I assume your brother's arranged for passage for us?"
"Not to Alexandria," Jess said. "My father wants us with him."
"Why? Because, no offense to your family, but I never quite trusted any of you." He hesitated a long beat before he said, "Present company excepted, of course."
And that was the moment when Jess's head cleared, and he saw very plainly what his brother had tried to tell him without telling him at all. Da wants you with us. Fortress. Generously agreed to give all your friends shelter.
Dario was talking to him, but he ignored him and shut his eyes to think. He knew his brother. He knew his father.
And he knew exactly what was coming for them in England.
"Shut up," he said to Dario, in the middle of what was probably an elaborate non-apology. "You're always bragging about your family connections. Just how important are they, exactly? And no exaggerations. Facts."
///
Dario went silent for a long moment, then said, "My cousin Jaume is the Spanish ambassador to the Great Library. My aunt Xijema is the speaker of the Cortes Generales, the Spanish congress. She's also the Duchess of Badajoz. And my second cousin twice removed is Ramón Alfonse, His Royal Highness, the king of Spain." Jess opened his mouth to reply but couldn't think of anything to say for a moment. He just shook his head. Dario gave him a shrug. "That's why I didn't tell you."
"You're . . . actual royalty."
"No. Not really. There are plenty of those scampering around, anyway. But you asked."
"And you never thought to mention this? It might have saved your life."
"I know that. I also know that the first thing Beck would have done would be to demand a ransom, and I know that my family wouldn't pay it." Dario spread his hands. "They stopped paying for me a long time ago. So it sounds impressive; that's all."
"Apart from money, would they extend you any other kind of help? Diplomatic help?"
"If there was something in it for them. Jaume would be the one I'd count on. He's clever, and he likes me well enough."
"Can he offer us sanctuary at his embassy? If we need it?"
That made Dario turn and look at him with a blank expression. "What are you thinking, Jess?" Jess, not scrubber, or one of the even less attractive nicknames he generally used.
"I'm thinking," Jess said, "that I agree with you. I don't trust my family, either. But I think I know how we can make that of some real use." He took in a breath. He had a plan. It made his stomach twist and his head hurt, but Dario had been right: chess was not about playing your opponent, but knowing him. And clearly seeing everyone, and everything, in your path.
For the first time, he was really seeing clearly. It wasn't pleasant.
"I'm going to see Morgan," he said. "And I'm going to take a shower. I smell like death."
"You do," Dario agreed. "Really quite repulsively."
Dario wore a black Scholar's robe now, and a gold band, though Jess imagined it had been fiddled with to remove any chance of tracking it. He'd bathed already, obviously. He looked every inch the part of a respectable young man of the Library. And he gave Jess a sudden frown. "You're not asking me to go with you, are you?"