Library of Souls (Page 76)

“You bastard!” Emma shouted, and punched the glass. Warren backed his rolling chair into the corner. “You black-hearted, despicable, cowardly …”

“Oh, calm down,” Caul said. “I only took a little of her soul, and the rest of your nursemaids are in top health, if not spirits.”

A harsh overhead light flicked on in the jumbled room, and it became suddenly clear that most of the figures were just dummies—no, obviously not real—mannequins or anatomical models of some kind, posed like statues with their tendons and muscles all flexed and popping. But in among them, gagged, bound to chairs and wooden posts, flinching and squeezing their eyes shut against the sudden light, were real, living people. Women. Eight, ten—I hadn’t time to count them all—most of them older, disheveled but distinguished-looking.

Our ymbrynes.

“Jacob, it’s them!” Emma cried. “Can you see Miss—”

The light flicked off before we could find Miss Peregrine, and now my eyes, ruined for the dark, could see nothing through the glass.

“She’s there, too,” Caul said with a bored sigh. “Your pious bird, your wet-nurse …”

“Your sister,” I said, hoping that might inject some humanity into him.

“I would hate to kill her,” he said, “and I suppose I won’t—provided you give me what I want.”

“And what’s that?” I said, pulling away from the glass.

“Nothing much,” he said casually. “Just a little bit of your soul.”

“What!” Emma barked.

I laughed out loud.

“Now, now, hear me out!” Caul said. “I don’t even want the entire thing. Merely an eyedropper’s worth. Less even than I took from Miss Glassbill. Yes, it’ll make you a bit dopey for a while, but in a few days you will have fully recovered your faculties.”

“You want my soul because you think it’ll help you use the library,” I said. “And take all that power.”

“I see you’ve been talking to my brother,” Caul replied. “You might as well know: I’ve nearly accomplished it now. After a lifetime of searching, I’ve finally found Abaton, and the ymbrynes—this perfect combination of ymbrynes—have unlocked the door for me. Alas, it was only then that I learned I needed still another component. A peculiar with a very specific talent, not often seen in the world these days. I had nearly despaired of ever finding such a person when I realized that a certain peculiar’s grandson might fit the bill, and that these ymbrynes, otherwise useless to me now, could act as a lure. And so they have! I do believe it’s fate, my boy. You and I, we’ll go down in peculiar history together.”

“We’re not going anywhere together,” I said. “If you get that kind of power, you’ll make the world a living hell.”

“You misunderstand me,” he continued. “That’s not surprising; most people do. Yes, I’ve had to make the world a hell for those who’ve stood in my way, but now that I’ve nearly achieved my goal, I am prepared to be generous. Magnanimous. Forgiving.”

The music, still warbling below Caul’s voice, had faded into a calm instrumental number, so at odds with the panic and terror I was feeling that it gave me a chill.

“We’ll finally live in peace and harmony,” he said, his voice smooth and reassuring, “with me as your king, your god. This is peculiardom’s natural hierarchy. We were never meant to live like this, decentralized and powerless. Ruled by women. There will be no more hiding when I’m in charge. No more pathetic cowering beneath the skirts of ymbrynes. Our rightful place as peculiars is at the head of the human table. We’ll rule the earth and all its people. We’ll finally inherit what’s ours!”

“If you think we’re going to play any role in that,” said Emma, “you’re out of your gourd.”

“I expected as much from you, girl,” said Caul. “You’re so typical of ymbryne-raised peculiars: no ambition, and no sense at all but one of entitlement. Quiet yourself, I am speaking to the male.”

Emma’s face went as red as the flame in her hand.

“Get on with it,” I said tersely, thinking of the guards that were probably on their way, and our friends, still fumbling with keys in the hallway.

“Here’s my offer,” said Caul. “Allow my specialists to perform their procedure on you, and when I’ve got what I want, I’ll let you and your friends go free—and your ymbrynes, too. They’ll pose me no threat then, anyhow.”

“And if I refuse?”

“If you won’t let me remove your soul the easy and painless way, then my hollows would be more than happy to do it. They aren’t known for their bedside manner, though, and once they’re through with you, I’m afraid I’ll be powerless to stop them from moving on to your ymbrynes. So you see, I’ll get what I want either way.”

“That won’t work,” Emma said.

“Are you referring to the boy’s little trick? I’ve heard he’s been able to control one hollow, but how about two at once? Or three, or five?”

“As many as I want,” I said, trying to sound confident, unflappable.

“That I would very much like to see,” said Caul. “Shall I take that as your answer, then?”

“Take it however you like,” I said. “I’m not helping you.”

“Oh, goody,” Caul said. “This will be loads more fun!”