Page 81 of The Last Kelpie

“Oh, God,” Julian whispered. “It's been happening for years. No one but Ethan noticed.”

“We haven't found anything further back than a decade, though.” Caelum looked at the other boxes. “Hopefully, these will be the last of them.” He looked at me. “Unlike the books outside the Archive, these records can't be altered from the present. So they'll give us an approximate date for when this began.”

Áedán let out a soft sound and bent his head. I pulled him close and tightened my arms when I felt him tremble. Before us, the evidence of a conspiracy that had been running for at least a decade lay exposed in the lamplight. Someone had been rewriting myths and getting away with it because the people who were supposed to protect myths hadn't noticed.

“We're going to stop this.” I leaned back to meet Áedán's eyes. “We're going to find who's doing this and we're going to stop them.”

Caelum looked at me. Something in his expression shifted—approval, maybe. Or hope. “Yes, we are. We know about them now, and we will find them.” He turned to Agnes and Julian. “I want every Velascan notified about this. We need every eye watching for the editor, starting with those on assignment. Bring every lead to me, every sighting of that spiral or the truth-sentence. And call our friends in law enforcement. I want them looking too.”

“Which ones?” Agnes asked.

“All of them.”

“All of them in the U.K.?”

“All of them in the world. Notify the training centers and all our offices. The editor is a threat to everything we stand for.”

“That will take days,” Agnes said.

“Then start now. Get all the archivists to help you.” Caelum's voice was gentle but absolute. “We've lost too many already. We're not losing any more.”

Agnes nodded and hurried away. Julian shared a look with Caelum and did the same.

“Ethan.” Áedán looked at me.

“We're all with you.” I took his hand. “You're going to be all right.”

Caelum looked up from the files. His eyes met mine across the table, and I saw something in them I hadn't seen before. Not just determination. Not just anger. Grief. “We should have seen this sooner. If not for you, Ethan, we might have gone another decade, maybe longer, before we noticed.”

“A fresh pair of eyes always helps.”

“That was more than a fresh perspective. You looked deeper. You worked harder. Thank you.” Caelum inclined his head to me.

“I had motivation.” I looked at Áedán.

His gaze tightened, and he looked away. It felt like a rejection, and that tore my heart up. But I pushed aside the pain. It wasn't important. I was going to save Áedán whether or not he loved me.

“It ends here.” Caelum stood up. “We're not losing you, Áedán.”

Áedán nodded. “I think I need some rest.”

“Of course. Ethan, look after him. He's had a shocking day. We'll talk more in the morning.”

“Okay.” I took Áedán's hand and led him away.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I woke the next morning and reached across the bed before my eyes opened, searching for someone who wasn't there. The pillow beside me was smooth, with no indents. I sat up, my heart already beginning an anxious climb into my throat.

“Áedán?”

Silence. The room was gray with early morning light, the kind that comes just before dawn breaks properly. I checked the bathroom. Empty. I pulled on yesterday's jeans and opened the door to the hallway. There was no sign of him.

When I turned and went back into the room, I noticed a paper on the nightstand. It was a piece of cream-colored stationery with the Velasca's subtle watermark. My hands shook as I picked it up.

Ethan,

I'm sorry. I know what you'll think when you read this, but please understand—this isn't about you. Not in the way you think. It's about what I'm becoming. After Caelum destroyed the book, I felt better. But I'm still fading. I feel it. And I can't do that in front of you. I won't let you watch me fade as I did my brother.