Chapter 10
Ten
Northcliff
The letters on the textbook start rearranging themselves while I’m sitting in class, half-listening to Hopkinson.
I stop gingerly prodding my ribs, squeeze my eyes shut, and then open them again.
At first, I worry that something Josef did during training rattled my brain, then I realise it’s just the Library fucking with me again.
I wish it could make itself known without making me think I’ve developed some kind of eye problem.
“Hey, Lambert,” I mutter under my breath, elbowing him. “What are enforcers?”
I swivel my book in his direction, and he frowns down at the now mostly blank page.
“Enforcers waiting for you at the front door,” he reads aloud. “Erm, dude…that’s not good.”
Jasper grimaces. “Nae shit.”
Leo facepalms, slipping his grimoire free of the stupid holster and letting the pages flip open. He mumbles some shit I don’t understand, but when he stands and beckons for the three of us to follow him, no one else even glances up.
Are we invisible? God, that spell would be useful for sneaking away from Josef whenever he turns up demanding to kick my ass in the name of education. Usually at the asscrack of dawn, like this morning.
I poke my ribs again as we slip out of the classroom.
Breathing hurts. Shit. I hope they’re not broken.
I wish I could’ve let Kyrith heal me, but Josef laid into me the last time I came back undamaged.
I can only imagine how he’ll take it when he realises the slash across my back—which I earned when I tried to walk away from him this morning—is gone.
My head pounds, a toxic mix of anger and guilt cracking behind my ribs all over again.
Josef knows all my buttons and exactly how to press them.
He was talking shit about my mum and dad—my real dad, the one who stepped in and raised me.
The wanker should’ve considered himself lucky that I chose to walk away rather than throttle him.
One day, I’ll kill him for what he did to our family. Unfortunately, all of my attempts so far have failed.
Leo clears his throat, the sound loud in the empty Rotunda. “Enforcers are like our version of the inept police; except they don’t deal with shite like parking fines. If you’re on their radar, it’s for necromancy or mass murder—”
“Or killing a parriarch.”
Kyrith appears right in my face without warning, and I take a step back without meaning to.
“Argh! What the—”
I cut myself off, heart kicking wildly. Fucking hell! I have the fleeting urge to spank her perky ass for that, but she’d crush me to the floor if I tried.
“A parriarch is dead?” Leo snaps. “Which one? How?”
Kyrith studies me, like she’s trying to determine the truth of my guilt from my expression.
“Josef,” I answer for her. “They think I killed Josef.”
He’s dead. That’s…
Well, I’m not exactly devastated. But from the way they’re all looking at me, I’m probably about to find out why this isn’t the perfect happily ever after I hoped for.
“You can’t honestly think I’m responsible?” I say, folding my arms.
“No offence, but no. You’re not that good at magic,” Leo answers for her. “Josef was a destruction magister. It would’ve taken a whole lot more than just one liminal with a few months of magic practice under his belt to take him out.”
“The real question is, why do the enforcers think you’re responsible?” Jasper asks.
“Because I hate his guts.” Come on. Surely that’s obvious?
Kyrith says nothing, but she starts to drift across the room and back in that ghostly version of pacing that she does when she’s thinking.
She floats higher and higher until Lambert gently takes her wrist, forcing her back to her physical body.
She casts around as he catches her, as if checking for witnesses, but he’s already lowering her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her waist, and drawing her against his chest. It takes a long moment, but she softens, just a fraction.
She might keep turning him down, but there’s something there between the two of them.
Fuck, they shouldn’t look so perfect together.
One short, stern Librarian and a tattooed guy who’s built like a brick shithouse.
But they fit. My already painful ribs squeeze a little tighter at how easily she relaxes into him.
“What are you thinking, boss?” His gentle tone is at odds with the concerned glances he keeps shooting down the hall. Is he expecting these enforcers to simply barge through and drag me out of here?
Nah. Kyrith wouldn’t let that happen… Right?
“Northcliff has three options,” she murmurs. “One, run.”
“I like that one.” Now that I’m free of Josef, I can leave this shit behind.
Fuck magic. I just want to go back to my easy life working on cars and getting wasted on the weekends.
“You wouldnae last five minutes,” Jasper says. “They’re highly trained and have people working in inept law enforcement across the globe. It’d take a greater mastermind than you to outwit them.”
My hands curl into fists, but I don’t voice the angry retort on the tip of my tongue.
Kyrith tugs at her sleeve, frowning. “The second option is claiming Sanctuary, though I’d hesitate to grant it.”
“Wait, what?” Lambert echoes my thoughts.
She granted it to Eddy, Dakari, and Jasper. Why not me?
Probably because none of them tried to rob the Vault, I admit to myself sullenly. I thought maybe I’d made up for that over Christmas. Apparently not.
“He’s accused of murdering a parriarch. Getting involved would put the Arcanaeum at significant risk—”
“You’d do it, though, right?” Lambert pushes. “North’s one of us.”
A spark of gratitude flickers to life at his easy acceptance, but I smother it. I doubt she will. Kyrith’s made it perfectly clear that she doesn’t like me much.
The building rustles, and the Librarian sighs. “Yes, I suppose I would. It’s still not my preferred option.”
“Well, what is?” I demand. “Going to wizard jail?”
She frowns. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re the Ackland heir. Being imprisoned would harm your chances of ever becoming parriarch, leading the entire family into decline and ruin, sending society into chaos, the likes of which someone like Isidora Carlton would only use to her advantage.”
I gape at her. “You’re fucking kidding me. Why would you want me to become parriarch? You hate me. And you hate the Acklands as much as I do. What does it matter if they’re fucked?”
I thought that was the one thing we could agree on.
I don’t want anything to do with that wanker’s house or title.
The only reason I entertained his brutal version of ‘training’ after Eddy was healed was because he made it very clear that my twin would never be able to safely leave the Arcanaeum if I didn’t.
“I don’t hate you,” she corrects, but doesn’t elaborate.
What does that mean? Argh. I’ve never wished I could read someone’s mind quite so much.
“What’s the third option?” Leo asks.
“A truth spell, in the presence of an enforcer, where you swear you didn’t kill your father.”
My teeth gnash when she calls Josef my father, but I don’t correct her. “And they’ll accept that?”
“As long as I cast it, then they should, since I’m not allied with any of the houses.
” She narrows her eyes at all of us, like we can miss the point she’s making.
“I did the same thing with an ó Rinn some centuries ago who was trying to prove her innocence, so there’s a precedent for it.
It sets a better tone for the start of your reign than running or hiding from the problem.
Provided you didn’t kill Josef, the enforcers will have no cause to come after you again. ”
“And what then?” I ask.
“Then a vicegerent is appointed to oversee Ackland’s affairs while you gain your magister qualifications.”
What? “You mean a vice regent?”
“Vicegerent,” she corrects. “Though the principle is the same. A person with the experience necessary to step in on a temporary basis. The moment you’re qualified, you’ll take over. Until then, you’ll still need to contribute and—”
“I’d rather drive it into the fucking ground.”
“Don’t be callous,” she snaps, brown eyes flaring with impatience.
“Hundreds of arcanists depend on you now, so grow a pair and learn to become a parriarch worthy of them. Someone is clearly trying to destabilise your house, or they wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to set you up.
It’s your duty to defend the innocents from getting caught in the crossfire. ”
Like it’s so easy? I can barely protect my twin, let alone hundreds of strangers. They all probably know more about magic than I do.
“You do it then, if you care so much.”
Honestly, Kyrith would make a better parriarch than any of us. Definitely better than Josef, that’s for sure.
Her brows furrow as she pushes free of Lambert’s arms and advances on me. “I can’t. Only the most powerful Ackland can be parriarch.”
“So that’s it then? I don’t get a say?”
Her expression softens, but only minutely. “There are precious few moments in life where you can be the architect of your own destiny. Most of the time, the only choice you get to make is how to do the best you can with what Fate has handed you.”
The touch of sorrow at the edge of her words cuts, and I turn away.
A bang echoes down the hall, and the Arcanaeum does one of those angry bristles.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that these enforcer assholes are getting tired of waiting nicely, and I don’t want to be the reason that they break down the Arcanaeum’s doors.
Eddy would murder me for upsetting her new best friend.
“The nerve!” Kyrith growls under her breath, turning to face the door at the end of Botanical Hall. She straightens her shoulders like she’s about to go into battle with the enforcers on the other side. “This is—”
“Fine. I’ll do the truth spell. But I want you to be regent.”
Lambert winces. “She can’t. She’s not an Ackland.”
“The rector usually appoints someone…” Jasper adds. “Or Josef will have named one in his will.”