Why You Should Never Rescue Stray Demons Chapter 131

**OZ**

We make it out. Barely. The night air hits like ice after the furnace inside, but it doesn’t bring relief. Not with Vidar still in there. Not with the fire roaring behind us, devouring stone and parchment like it plans to erase the whole world. We stand together a few yards from the doors, coughing, shaking, scorched by smoke and heat. No one speaks. No one even breathes properly. Because what the hell do we do now? There’s nothing we can do. The library, the one place that always felt untouchable, eternal, is burning. And Vidar… Vidar’s still inside. Kacia clings to me, trembling, her eyes wide and glassy. I pull her close, one arm locked around her, the other smoothing down her hair. 

“I’ve got you.” I murmur uselessly, pressing my jaw against the top of her head. I whisper it again, and again, like if I say it enough it’ll make it true. But I don’t know if I’m saying it for her, or if I’m trying to convince myself. Because damn it, I need it too. I need someone to hold me together. Tracey paces nearby, boots dragging through the gravel, ash streaking his face. His hands rake through his soot-stained hair as he swears under his breath, circling like a wolf trapped in too small a pen. For once, there’s no grin, no quip, no smirk. The flamboyant vampire is silent and furious and completely lost. He doesn’t know what to do. None of us do. And Clarence… Clarence is falling apart. The old man has crumpled against his cane, shoulders heaving as he mutters fragments of words that don’t make sense, half-spells, half-prayers, all tangled with grief. He shakes his head again and again, as if denial itself might smother the fire, as if refusing to accept it could somehow bring the library back. His voice cracks. His hands tremble violently. And I see him differently. For the first time since I met him, Clarence doesn’t look like the untouchable master of this place, the man who commands respect with every glance. He looks… Frail. A mortal old man. Worn thin by loss, too heavy to bear. And it guts me in a way I wasn’t ready for. Tracey crouches beside him, a hand hovering uselessly over his shoulder, his mouth tight with frustration. 

“He’s not right.” He mutters, low but sharp. 

“He looks like he’s about to bloody keel over.” He adds, concern and helplessness lacing his voice. And he’s right. Clarence is pale, ashen in a way that has nothing to do with smoke. His skin gleams with sweat, his chest heaves shallow and uneven, and for one sickening moment I wonder if his heart is about to give out right here. I want to help him. I want to do something, ANYTHING, to keep him standing. But what do I know about grief like that? What do I know about saving a man from the loss of his life’s work, his home, his soul? I can fight monsters and cause nightmares beyond imagining. But none of it matters here. I don’t know how to fight this. And the truth is, I need comfort myself. My chest feels hollow, my throat raw, my arms aching from holding Kacia so tight. I cling to her as much for me as for her. Because right now, I feel like if I let go, we’ll both fall apart. The silence is broken by a sound that feels wrong here, sirens. The wail of human fire engines cuts through the night, distant at first, then growing louder, closer. Kacia stiffens against me. Tracey curses under his breath. Clarence doesn’t even flinch, too lost in his grief to notice the world moving on around him. We stand in the glow of the burning library, smoke pouring into the sky, the knowledge of centuries collapsing into ash. Clarence broken, Vidar gone, Kacia trembling in my arms, and me… I feel utterly powerless.

The sirens wail louder, flashing red and blue against the distant buildings, when another voice cuts through the night. Then I spot her. Taryn. She comes running across the courtyard barefoot, skirts bunched in her fists, hair wild and tangled with leaves. She looks nothing like the cheerful, curious dryad I’ve seen before. She looks terrified.

“What… What happened?” She cries, eyes darting from the burning doorway to us, to Clarence bent and trembling, to Kacia limp in my arms. 

“Why is the library… Where’s Vidar?” She asks. The name stills everything. Kacia buries her face against my chest with a soft, broken sound. Tracey stops pacing and swears viciously under his breath. Clarence’s lips move, but only a guttural rasp comes out. Taryn freezes, her wide eyes moving between us. 

“He didn’t come out with you?” Her voice trembles. 

“Where is he?” She repeats again. Then her breath hitches. And then I see it, the instant she understands. She doesn’t need it explained. She knows. Because she’s bound too. She’s tied to her tree as surely as he is to these walls. She knows what it is to feel the weight of roots and stone in your bones. Taryn shakes her head, hair flicking around her, tears springing to her eyes. 

“No… No, not him.” Her voice splinters. 

“He can’t leave. He can’t.” She mutters anxiously. Her eyes snap to mine, pleading, furious, desperate. 

“What are you going to do?” She demands. 

“What are WE going to do for him?” She repeats when no one answers. And we are still silent. Clarence chokes back a sob, trembling like he’s about to collapse. Tracey scrubs a hand over his face and looks away, jaw locked, teeth grinding. Kacia doesn’t lift her head. And me… I want to give her an answer. I want to tell her we’ll tear the whole place apart to get him out. But I can’t. Because there isn’t a way. Taryn staggers back a step, her eyes locked on the inferno, on the stone walls that groan and crack under the strain. Tears streak down her cheeks. 

“You’re just… You’re just going to leave him?” She whispers, horrified. And none of us can bring ourselves to answer.

All of a sudden, Taryn makes a quick, desperate move toward the flames. Her skirts whip against her legs, her hair catching firelight, but she only makes it a few strides before she falters. Her body jerks like she’s hit an invisible wall. She gasps, stumbling back, hands clutched at her chest. Of course. She’s bound. Just as he is. Just as she always will be. She can’t stray far from her tree without it pulling her back, without her soul protesting the distance. She can’t even reach the library doors. The look on her face right now… I’ll never forget it. Horror. Frustration. Grief. Knowing exactly what he’s facing, what it means to be chained to a place, powerless to leave even if the world collapses around you.

“Vidar!” She cries, voice breaking. But it’s useless. The fire answers her, not him. The ground shudders. A sharp crack splits the night, louder than the sirens now bearing down on us. And then, with a sound like the sky itself tearing open, the library caves in. The roof buckles. Beams snap. Walls crumble inward. Sparks explode upward in a rush of fire and smoke, ash raining down on us like black snow. The library, Clarence’s life’s work, Vidar’s anchor, our one sanctuary, is reduced to ruin in seconds. The human firefighters arrive at that exact moment, sirens wailing, red and blue lights strobing against the smoke as trucks grind to a halt. They leap from their vehicles, shouting orders, hauling hoses, charging toward the inferno with a confidence that would almost be admirable if I didn’t know how pointless it was. Because there’s nothing left to save. I hold Kacia tighter, her breath hot and uneven against my chest, and glance at Clarence, at Tracey, at Taryn with her hands fisted in her skirts. None of us move. None of us speak. We just watch as it all burns to ash.