Chapter 39 #2
“Are you calling for war?”
I don’t see who asks the question, but Dakari answers it before I can. “The Librarian has chosen peaceful non-compliance. But make no mistake, any further attacks on her or the Arcanaeum, and I’ll be starting one.”
“As will I,” Jasper steps up.
“And I,” Leo adds. “The Arcanaeum is neutral ground. Mathias’s attempt to seize it was a crime against all of arcandom.”
“You’re only heirs.” An ó Rinn professor at the front scowls at them. “So your threats mean nothing.”
“Jasper is parriarch in all but name, Deirdre,” Halinor corrects. “He has the full backing of Clan McKinley.”
“And I signed the papers to get rid of the stupid title the moment I woke up after my attack,” Artemius says. “Galileo is the new parriarch of our house.” He mutters something else under his breath that sounds like, “Good riddance.”
Leo swallows, but it’s the only indication that this is the first he’s hearing of his new title.
“For what it’s worth,” North adds. “The second I get my hands on the parriarchy, Ackland is going to start repairing all of this shit.”
“Agreed.” Lambert’s sombre expression and quiet demeanour are at odds with his normal vivacious personality. “Winthrop has been awful when it comes to speaking up about this stuff. At a certain point, silence becomes complicity.”
That’s a powerful statement. It’s also probably the closest he’s ever come to sounding like a parriarch.
He’s been visibly uncomfortable since this whole thing began.
I wish all of these people would leave so I could hug him.
If there’s one thing he avoids like the plague, it’s thinking about the future beyond his career in magiball.
Now he’s stepping into those shoes. Maybe not fully, not yet, but my heart still hurts for him.
“I intend to do the same,” Pierce steps forward. “You saw my mother kill those enforcement officers in Orkney. That was real. I was there. Mathias has been using her for years.”
“Your grandfather was just executed for necromancy,” a Carlton man who isn’t much older than Pierce protests.
“Your sister was found guilty of Abe Talcott’s murder.
Now you expect us to just take your word for it.
Isidora Carlton is an honourable woman. She puts the well-being of real adept arcanists before everyone, even her own family.
I, for one, won’t be disgracing her efforts on our house’s behalf by entertaining this nonsense a second longer. ”
Pierce only smiles. “One day, Robin, I’ll be your parriarch, and I’ll remember this moment.”
“You wish—”
“Just like I remember all the times my mother paid off enforcement when you were caught meddling with the memories of inept girls. Rest assured, I won’t be allocating Carlton funds to that particular cause again, honourable adept blood or not.”
The blustering man goes very pale, very quickly. “It was a false charge! I would never! The dulls are worse than animals—”
A burst of manipulation magic sends one of the heavier tomes from the shelf beside him crashing into his skull.
I wasn’t kidding when I said I didn’t have the same fine control over that spell that I once did. He’s whipped around by the blow. The only reason he doesn’t fall to the floor is that the professor beside him catches his arm.
Such a shame.
“Language.” I ignore his bloody nose and the dazed look on his face.
If I could still banish people, I’d do it to him in a heartbeat. However, my options are currently limited, and Pierce’s word alone isn’t proof. Still, I resolve to make Robin’s visits to the Arcanaeum—few as they are—as unpleasant as possible from here on out.
“It says here that services will be limited.” Goodberry looks up from his booklet with a frown, apparently having ignored the conversation in favour of reading. “How so?”
Swallowing, I try to look uncomfortable as I answer.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, there were changes made during Mathias’s attempted coup.
I’m still working on repairing the damage.
Some areas of the Arcanaeum remain in a state that is less than presentable.
I will be unable to answer the bell as swiftly as I once did, and queries may take a little longer than usual.
We’ll also be closed on weekends; temporarily, of course. ”
I’m no actress, but the surge of interest in their eyes is a sure sign that my performance hit the mark.
“What damage?”
“How temporarily?”
“Is the Kinetic Hall still open?”
“How much of the Library will be inaccessible during class hours?”
These questions are familiar, expected, and I relax into answering them, barely noticing the dagger heating in warning at my side until it pulses sharply.
What is it?
Frustration claws at me as I cut off mid-sentence.
Word has travelled faster than I expected. The dagger is heating up because it’s trying to draw power from me, and when I oblige, a door opens. Then another. Then another.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I begin, watching as aegis agents trickle into the room. “Most of the answers to your questions are in the booklet. For your safety, I must request that you take them home to read. Reopening officially happens tomorrow.”
“Our safety?” Hopkinson fixes me with a look, then glances over his shoulder at the agents approaching our gathered group with their grimoires out. “Librarian—”
“Isidora’s new aegis squad is here, and I’d prefer my patrons not be caught in the middle should they attempt to make any arrests.”
“Then I shall stay as a witness,” the older man insists. “They have no jurisdiction here. Everyone knows that.”
The last is aimed solely at the gathering of black-uniformed arcanists behind him. Several other magisters nod, standing to one side but refusing to leave. Some edge away, heading for the doors, but not all.
More than half of them are staying.
The gathered academics are like a buffer between me and the thirty or so masked agents.
Gratitude thickens my throat, forcing me to clear it as Michael ó Rinn steps away from the pack, flanked by two other arcanists. The three of them eye the professors warily as they approach my desk.
Their new uniforms are more severe than the last. The lower halves of the agents’ faces are covered by black masks emblazoned with a golden shield that denotes them as part of Isidora’s new aegis squad. Defensive runeforms have been embroidered across their coats.
In short, they look every inch the army of the necromancer they unwittingly serve.
“Librarian,” Michael says, perfunctory civility coating the title.
I raise a brow. “Officer ó Rinn. I believe we’ve spoken at length about attempting to intimidate me before.”
His eyes widen. Stars, did he really believe I wouldn’t recognise him with the lower half of his face covered?
Even without that, I still have the ability to identify people by their grimoires.
I have no idea why I kept that particular quirk, but it’s even stronger now that I’m in the Arcanaeum, and I’m grateful.
I can sense the slick decay of necromancy coming from the book holstered at the side of the woman on his left.
“And you, Ingrid Delmar, are on one strike.” I raise an eyebrow at her before turning to the man on their right. “As are you, Rowan McKinley. I would suggest you take those ridiculous masks off right now and stop behaving this way before I banish the lot of you.”
“Aegis agents are—”
“The same as any other enforcement officers and subject to the same rules as any other patron,” I cut him off. “One of you is sufficient to seek my assistance in whatever errand you’ve been sent on.”
Michael’s brows furrow, his eyes glinting as he deliberately neglects to remove his mask. “We’re here to arrest Pierce Carlton, Jasper McKinley, and Northcliff Ackland on suspicion of practising necromancy.”