How lovely, said the evil part of his mind in delight, and he was momentarily distracted by the image of beautiful flames and destruction. The calm part noted that the bomb was the fuel oil and fertilizer type, designed to destroy buildings. And that there seemed to be no obvious timer.
He actually stepped forward, thinking to disable the thing. But he was no engineer, and his magic was of no use here. The wires and circuits held too much order for the forces of chaos to get a reliable hold on, and the leashed powers of destruction were too primal to risk interfering with. Anything he tried might only trigger the explosion.
He managed not to run back, stepping nimbly past Annabelle to take Giles' shoulders. "There's a bomb in one of the reading rooms, we have to get out of here."
"I beg your pardon?" Giles blinked, as expected.
"There's a bomb in one of the reading rooms, we have to get out of here."
Annabelle squeaked in fear. Giles stared at Ethan, obviously wanted to accuse him of lying and just as obviously believing him. "A bomb? What kind?"
"Very large. The kind that took out that office building in Oklahoma City."
Giles looked around helplessly. "But--how would they have gotten it in here? My God, they're going to destroy the whole Council. We have to warn them."
Ethan tightened his hold. "We have to get out of here. We can't delay for anything."
"But the Council, everyone here--"
He stared Giles in the eye. "You go to the Council chamber, you announce there's a bomb in the library. They won't believe you. They will shout, they will demand explanations, they'll send someone in here to look, they'll accuse you and me of being involved." He shifted his hands to either side of Giles' face. "And then we will die."
Giles closed his eyes, knowing it to be nothing but the truth. "I know them," he whispered.
"I know. But it will kill you, and these two girls you saved, and any hope you have of stopping all this."
"And you." Giles looked up at Ethan. "It would kill you, too." Ethan shrugged a little at the obvious point. "We have to go," Giles said firmly. "Annabelle, pack up those papers. Molly! We're leaving."
As he gathered everyone together, though, he looked at the bookshelves around him, at the stacks, at the three floors of knowledge and mystery. "No ..."
"Mr. Giles, come on," Annabelle said, tugging on his sleeve.
Over there was Merganser's Treatise on Flying Monsters, from Fiorenza in 1454. The only known copy in the world. Next to it were da Vinci's collected sketches and notes on the dissection of a Fyarl demon. Up on the top floor, immune to the stronger light, was the engraved silver tablet describing a Babylonian Slayer's defeat of a wizard attempting his own demonic Ascension and her death in the struggle.
He reached for the Merganser, but it was two feet on a side, three inches thick and weighed ten pounds. Perhaps the da Vinci, but that was only an interesting curiosity, everyone knew the anatomy of Fyarl demons. The Katifore Dissertations?
Ethan grabbed him and shook him. "You can't save them all, Rupert! We may not have time to save any. Come on."
"But--the books ..."
"I know, luv, I know. Ladies, we're leaving!" He grabbed a book at random from the shelves. Giles grabbed two more, trying not to read titles and make judgements. He dropped them at the door, picking up two others, not even certain why those were more worthy of being saved than the first.
They ran down the stairs towards the service area, no longer worrying about noise.
"How long?" Molly asked.
"I don't know," Ethan said, one hand twisted in Giles' jacket sleeve to keep him moving. "There wasn't a timer."
"Then it could--"
"Yes, any moment, keep moving."
When they reached the outer door, Giles pulled to a stop. "Drop the cloak," he told Ethan. "Don't argue, just drop it."
Ethan shook his head but pulled the hairs, tied together with a string, out of his pocket. He pulled it all apart and shrugged. "Done."
Giles shoved the door open. "Bomb!" he yelled at the startled workmen. "There's a bomb in the building, run!" He ran for the gate, the others behind him. They shoved the gate open and ran down the street.
"They're following us!" Annabelle yelled.
"Good!"
A duck into an alley a block away and a small misdirection spell hid them from pursuers. Giles leaned against the side of the building, clutching the books to himself.
"It hasn't gone off," he said to Ethan. "Maybe--"
Ethan put a hand on his shoulder. "No, Rupert, there was no ti--"
The blast was deafening. Ethan and Giles grabbed the girls and pushed them to the ground. Windows all around shattered, car alarms blared. Then the rubble began slamming down. The two men hung onto each other, trying to make as small a target as possible.
Finally all that was left was the screaming and the sound of flames.
Giles stumbled out onto the street, staring towards the building. The top floors were burning, what hadn't been blown apart. Papers swirled in the vortex, catching fire and vanishing in sparks and smoke. He couldn't speak, not even to whisper a denial or a plea to whatever gods might care.
Ethan took his arm and pulled him away. "We can't stay. The police will be here, and there's nothing we can tell them."
Giles forced himself to stop looking and to walk away. "I knew them, Ethan. I knew them all."
"I know, Rupert. I know. Leave that, Annabelle!"
Molly pulled Annabelle away from some debris, debris that oozed and smelt of burnt meat and had fingers if you looked too closely. "What do we do now?" Molly asked.
Giles shook himself. "We keep running."