Chapter 5
Five
Jasper
Fort McKinley has never been so busy.
At least not in my lifetime.
My parents are back home with my sister, making food for everyone in Ma’s hastily repaired kitchen.
Waking my aunt turned into rousing the entire clan once we explained what was going on.
Now Halinor sits in an armchair before the great hearth in the main keep, wearing a fluffy maroon dressing gown.
Her eyes trace the dying flames as the urgent yelling of arcanists drifts through the open window on my left.
Cars are arriving in the lower bailey every few minutes, their lights flashing in the glass.
Wards are being raised in the pissing rain, despite the early hour.
Clan McKinley is readying for war, which means everyone who lives outside the Fortress is coming home, seeking safety in numbers.
Lambert watches it all with uncharacteristic stillness from his position by the glass, his face stony. My aunt’s silence must be contagious, because he hasn’t spoken since it became clear we weren’t getting back into the Arcanaeum.
Every so often, he glances at the arcanist on the sofa behind me, fists clenching before he forces himself to look away, taking deep breaths.
Galileo is ghost pale, his hair limp and slicked to his face with sweat. His neck is stuck at an awkward angle thanks to the unceremonious way he was dumped. His shirt is gone, but no one has got him a blanket, so the firelight battles with the flashing red glow of the runeform covering his chest.
The curse is about to trigger. The second it fades to a shimmery grey scar, he’ll have lost whatever it decides he’ll miss most. He could have seconds or hours left.
I’m sitting on the floor with my back to him. I cannae fucking look at him. My fingers flick through the pages of the book that arrived alongside his living corpse. This is the first tome to leave the Arcanaeum in centuries, and it’s a familiar one.
Healing the Magical Well by Benjamin Carlton. No doubt, Kyrith hoped I’d use it to help the cunt.
I’d rather wax my eyeballs.
He’s the reason we’re in this mess.
I’ll send the letters that litter the floor on to the rest of the ó Rinns, because that’s what she would’ve wanted…but Leo? He can fucking suffer.
My pocket dings, followed swiftly by Lambert’s and North’s. Abandoning the book, I pull out my phone and grimace at the name on the screen.
Dakari:
Where are you?
I swipe open the group chat, only to freeze as a selfie follows it.
Eddy is posing with her fingers in a peace sign in the passenger seat of a Maserati that almost certainly doesnae belong to either of them.
She’s managed to catch the Talcott heir frowning at the wheel, and behind her—asleep and drooling on the back window—is Anthea Carlton.
Both of the girls look dishevelled, but unharmed.
North:
r u ok?
Lambert:
Why didn’t you return my call? ??
North:
wtf happened?
North asked the question before I could, and I catch his eye across the room.
He’s relegated himself to the corner, beside the ugly, thrifted porcelain vase that doubles as an umbrella stand.
His jaw works as he glances around like one of us might have a clue why his twin is in a car with Anthea and using Dakari’s phone.
Dakari:
I’ve been gone for days and my own TWIN didn’t notice ??
There’s a crunching sound, which I’m pretty sure is North’s screen cracking, so I quickly tap out my own reply.
Jasper:
Tell Dakari to transport to Kirkwall. Kyrith kicked us out.
Dakari:
kicked out?
Jasper:
Get here. Now. I’ll set up a beacon.
Dakari:
D says he can use his gramps’ old one.
My head falls forward. At least if they’re here, that means we have more people working on the problem.
The smartest member of our group is out of commission, and he probably won’t be waking up any time soon.
I pick the book back up, leaving the chat open as I continue reading. This is the same one that Kyrith used to heal my magical well, which I’m guessing means whatever Mathias did fucked with Leo’s. Having mine shredded left me exhausted, so no wonder the fucker is out cold.
Dakari:
15 mins out. Why is it so windy here?!?!
Rolling my eyes, because what did Eddy really expect, I face my aunt who’s waiting for an update with her head tilted to one side.
We’ve had to be careful with what we tell her, but so far, we’ve managed to skirt the bounds of the covenant. She knows Carlton and Mathias have attacked the Library, which is the main thing.
“Dakari is on his way. He’s got Anthea Carlton and Eddy Ackland with him.”
Her brows rise, and she picks up her stick, still oddly calm given the tension in the room. “Still no word from the Arcanaeum?”
I shake my head, fingers tightening around the book. I’ve knocked a hundred times, begging Kyrith to let me in. I’m not the only one.
Nothing.
It’s not good.
“We’ve got to assume the Library has fallen,” she says, her pragmatism hitting me like a sack of bricks. “Abe’s death has made Dakari the new Talcott parriarch, which means his coming here sends a message. As does his kidnapping Anthea.”
“Yeah, the message that he’s on our side.”
“Kyrith’s side,” Lambert corrects, even as Halinor tuts.
“Are you willing to drag us into war for that ghost?”
I meet her stare. “I’d go to war for that lass a hundred times over.”
“Me too,” Lambert adds.
North gives an affirmative little grunt.
My aunt’s mouth twitches. “Wars over women never go well.”
“It’s not just over a woman. The Arcanaeum—”
“Don’t bullshit me, boy.” Halinor’s voice cracks like a whip. “You don’t give three flying fucks about the Library.”
She’s wrong about that, because she doesn’t know—can’t ever know—that the building is sentient. In the last few months, it’s become a strange, silent friend.
“If I told you there was more that I couldnae tell you about, would you drop it?”
Halinor tips her head from side to side, turning back to the flames. “Aye. I’ll do one better.”
Getting up hurts her, and I discard Benny’s book to lift my grimoire from its holster, intent on numbing the pain deepening the furrow of her brows.
“I’m retiring.”
“What!?” I fumble my grimoire, dropping it. “That’s a terrible idea.”
Halinor stops in front of me, the tip of her stick pressing my book into the carpet.
“A leader cannot lead with only half the facts, and an old goat like me can’t go to war.
It’s become abundantly clear over these last few weeks that that’s where we’re heading.
You six and that Librarian are at the centre of something that I havenae the strength nor the will to interfere with—”
“But I’m not ready.”
“No one ever is. But it’s my time to step aside gracefully. You don’t need to come begging to me when you want permission to form an alliance with the Talcotts. Just do it.”
“I’m not a magister.”
Halinor waves my objection away and loses her balance in the process, then scowls at me when my arms automatically rise to catch her.
“I said, retiring. Not retired. You’ll take the exams when you’re ready, but you’re already a master restorationist. They’re a formality.
As far as the clan and I are concerned, it’s a done deal. ”
She hobbles to the door, looking back one last time.
“When I took the position from my mother, she told me the most important choice I could ever make was when to pass my torch. I told her she was wrong. That she was giving up too soon. I wanted to play magiball, not lead.” Her eyes flick to Lambert.
“But she was right. She wasnae who we needed back then. I’m not who we need now.
” She pauses, voice quiet as she continues.
“I’m not sure I have been for some time, if all this was happening right under my nose. ”
Then she’s gone, leaving me trapped in a room that’s suddenly suffocating.
“Congrats, Parriarch McKinley,” Lambert offers, but it falls flat.
I want to call Halinor back, to convince her that she’s made a mistake. But she’s so stubborn. I have to admit that, if it wasnae me who was replacing her, I’d have expected her to retire a long time ago. Every time I see her, she gets more fragile.
Against my will, my eyes are drawn back to Leo, still unconscious on the couch.
I dinnae think it’s a coincidence that the last time I saw him, he was on the floor of the Arcanaeum.
And how did Eddy end up in a car with Dakari and Anthea when the last we knew, she was holed up in her room with a migraine?
We need more answers, but I’m afraid that even when we get them, we won’t be any closer to saving Kyrith.
If she’s even still alive.
Naw. She has to be. Someone who’s part ghost cannae die, surely?
“The boss just kicked us out,” Lambert murmurs, almost to himself. “We could’ve done something.”
North shakes his head. “Nah. I’ve been thinking about it. I think she knew we’d been outplayed. She wasn’t fighting. She was mitigating the damage. Getting everyone to safety and protecting her books.”
“She should’ve let us help,” I say, even though I understand why she didn’t.
Maybe if all six of us were there, fighting alongside Kyrith and the Library, we might’ve had a chance.
Dakari and Pierce are the best at offensive magic, but they were both at that dinner.
Leo and Kyrith together might’ve managed to out-think the lich, but he was busy fretting over his curse and being a fucking traitor.
Lambert and North… Well, they’re strong, but neither of them is experienced.
I’m not a fighter. Never have been. Never hated that quite as much as I do now, either.
But we were separated. Divided.
Kyrith was right to do what she did, but…she shouldnae have had to make that call.
We fall into an uneasy silence until the door swings open a few minutes later, admitting an exhausted Dakari.
“Where’s my sister?” North demands, shoving away from the wall.
“Having the ensorcellments plastered all over her removed.” Dakari dodges him, rounding the sofa as he scans the rest of us with a frown. “She’s drowning in Carlton magic. I barely managed to get the trackers off her and Anthea before we transported.”
Inevitably, his eyes land on Leo, and a storm settles over his brow. I dinnae think I’m imagining that frown deepening as the ó Rinn heir’s chest rises and falls on a deep breath, either.
“What. Happened?” His displeasure radiates through the room.
“We have no idea,” Lambert says. “One second everything was fine, the next…”
“You tell us.” I shake my head. “That dafty was already passed out on the floor when we got to the Rotunda.”
“Yeah.” North sighs long and loud. “Kyrith must’ve thrown him out after us.”
“No,” Lambert says. “That was the Arcanaeum. Kyrith barely managed to throw us out.”
I’ve come to the same conclusion. “His magical well is wrecked.” I half-raise Benny’s book. “Or I assume it must be, given that the Library sent this with him.”
It’s a sign I’d be stupid to ignore, but I’m not feeling particularly charitable today.
“So heal him,” Dakari growls. “And then break his stupid curse.”
“What? I don’t—”
“I’m with Dakari,” North interrupts. “The Library is vengeful as fuck. If it sent him here with that book, it’s for a reason. And Kyrith sent those runeforms through after him because she knew one of you could break it.”
“Maybe it just wants us to beat his ass with this book until he regrets being born,” I mutter.
Lambert says nothing, and that worries me more than the ó Rinn’s worsening pallor. They’re brothers. Surely he wants Leo to live?
All three of us are staring at him, and he groans as he gives in and finally turns away from the window, crossing to stand beside Leo.
“If the Library wants him healed, then do it. But…” He trails off, an uncharacteristically dark look flickering over his golden features as he traces the curse mark with his eyes. “He might’ve cost us everything already.”
“It’s not over.” Dakari folds his arms, like he can undo what’s happened through sheer stubbornness.
Lambert shakes his head. “He’s the reason Kyrith is dead.”
The last three words fall into the room like a bomb.
“She’s not.” My denial is instant, even though I have no proof.
“You don’t know that,” Dakari objects at the same time. “We can’t assume anything until the Library reopens.”
“What?” Lambert demands. “You think they’ve spared her because you’ve taken Anthea hostage?”
He snorts. “No. They were going to execute her. I only rescued Anthea because she knows things that can help us. I have to believe Kyrith is still alive, if only because Pierce isn’t here.”
“Pierce?” I echo dumbly.
I honestly hadn’t even thought about the Carlton heir.
“That prick?” North rolls his eyes. “He’s probably celebrating with Mathias and the rest of his minions.”
Dakari reaches into his jacket and pulls out…a book? “I would’ve agreed with you, but he’s the one who helped me get this.”
It’s purple, the binding rune dull and faded on the front. And it’s old. The leather is cracked and worn.
“Kyrith’s grimoire?” Lambert guesses before I can.
Is he…crying? There’s definitely a sheen of moisture across his eyes.
Dakari nods. “It’s not been summoned back to the Vault. If she were dead…”
“She said her tether to it was weak—” I cut myself off. “It’s a nice sentiment, but…”
“Pierce left the door to his mother’s office open, knowing I was hiding nearby.
He’s on our side, and he’s the only one of us still in the Arcanaeum.
If he can help Kyrith, he will.” Dakari tucks the book back into his jacket.
“In the meantime, we need to wake this asshole up and find out what he knows. You work on his magical well; I’ll deal with the ensorcellment. ”
“Then he can spend the rest of his time in the dungeons,” I grumble, rounding the sofa and dropping Benny Carlton’s book onto the table behind it. With a sigh, I flip open my own grimoire and begin the long process of copying out the runeforms. “He’s not a guest here.”
If Kyrith is dead, Leo won’t be far behind. Fuck the consequences.