Chapter 40
Forty
Kyrith
“Absolutely not.” Halinor’s face is set in the kind of scowl that’s unique to furious old women. “I don’t care if you’re calling yourself enforcement, or aegis, or whatever. After the destruction you caused in my home, Clan McKinley no longer recognises your authority.”
“Nor does Talcott,” Dakari growls.
“Nor ó Rinn,” Leo adds. “If you’re going to be Ackland’s lap dogs, you no longer have the authority to arrest or interrogate members of my house.”
It’s a move we discussed earlier in the week, one that any amount of research will prove is completely legal, if unprecedented.
That doesn’t make it any less of a bombshell.
Michael just stares. Several other agents around the room shift their weight nervously.
Enforcement has always been given its authority by the parriarchs. Now, three of them are taking it away.
There’s no protocol for that, no handbook.
The smart thing would be for them to back off, regroup, and figure out where things stand. Unfortunately, Michael doesn’t issue the order I’m hoping for.
“If you’re standing in the way of my duty, you’re as good as enabling necromancers.”
“You’re confusing supporting dark magic with refusing to cooperate with an increasingly authoritarian regime. Northcliff has already sworn under a truth spell that he knows nothing,” I remind him. “I administered the test myself in front of you.”
“That’s no longer sufficient for the Rector or Parriarch Ackland. Recent events have proven you’re not infallible, and you’ve become less than impartial.”
I straighten, indignation lighting my words as I stare him down.
“I have been casting truth spells since before your great-grandfather knew how to hold a grimoire. As for impartiality, you would struggle to recognise it, given how firmly your lips are glued to the seat of Isidora Carlton’s rotting ass.
Now, I suggest you apologise, take off your ridiculous mask, and cease polluting the Arcanaeum with your presence before you find yourself banished for your impertinence. ”
Lambert’s chuckle echoes through the Rotunda a second later, joined by several professors.
Oh stars. I wish they hadn’t. Nothing is more threatening to a proud man than the laughter of his peers.
Michael proves as much when he responds, “Northcliff and Pierce are still subject to the orders of their parriarchs.”
“They are inside the Arcanaeum and thus outside of your jurisdiction.”
“You cannot shelter fugitives—”
“You know what? I’m getting bored of this.” Pierce steps forward, holding his grimoire out towards Michael. “You want proof? Here. Search it. There are enough witnesses here. But if you think I’m leaving this building to become a prisoner of Mathias Ackland, you’re mistaken.”
My breath catches.
This wasn’t the plan. I gave him that forgery as a precaution. Not for him to just offer it up so casually.
Pierce is every inch the arrogant, bored prince, waiting imperiously for his subjects to do as they’re told.
“Same.” North flicks open the buckles on his holster. “We’re innocent. Now go ask Isidora and Mathias to make you the same offer.”
Michael stares at both books, his eyes flickering to me. “The Librarian could interfere.”
That’s dangerously close to the truth. Ice runs down my spine, but I force myself to affect an air of aggravation as I reply, “I’m either incapable of casting a truth spell, or I’m able to create such an immaculate forgery that arcanists with years of experience are unable to tell the difference.
” I tut. “You’re grasping at straws. Insulting my office, again, in an effort to spare your pride because you know there’s nothing to find.
Continuing to engage in this farce is just further tarnishing enforcement’s reputation. ”
“Protecting the innocent from necromancy is not a farce. It’s justice.”
I offer him a sad smile as his agents take their chances. Two of them rush forward to grab the offered grimoires. “Justice is rarely on the side of those weaponizing the law to silence dissent.”
The crowd filling the Rotunda holds its breath as the soldiers place the offered grimoires on the floor, their own beside them. Spells fill the silence, so fast and harried that it’s clear I’m not the only one affected by the heavy threat of violence in the air.
I hang on every incantation. Cataloguing each one to ensure it was one I tested.
I spent days layering that grimoire with Pierce’s magic. The book is a perfect mimic. I borrowed his preferred ink for authenticity. His magical signature saturates every page, carefully replicated thanks to our bond.
There are only two spells I know of that might detect a difference. Both of them require Pierce to actually cast from the book. Enforcement rarely bothers with such measures, given the opportunity it presents for a suspect to attack, but they’re more motivated than usual.
It’s the best imitation I could conjure. Near perfect.
I can only hope it’s enough.
Michael watches with a frown on his face, examining North and Pierce like he might find evidence of their guilt in their expressions.
He won’t.
North is completely innocent, and Pierce is a very good liar. Thank goodness no one can hear my heart thundering, or it would give us all away.
After an age, the enforcer working on North’s pulls back with a head shake.
North rolls his eyes, holding his hand out for it back. “Told you so.”
Pierce’s grimoire is thicker. It’s only natural it will take longer. My nerves are strung tighter than piano wires while I wait for the woman investigating it to finish. I barely breathe as she holds it out to him.
Clear.
Michael snatches it before Pierce can, flicking through. My heartbeat stutters.
“Strange that someone whose grandfather, father, and sister were all found guilty of practising dark magic would be innocent of it,” the older man muses.
“I find it stranger that someone whose father, husband, and daughter were found guilty has never been investigated,” Pierce retorts. “But then, we all know the laws don’t apply to my mother because she pays you, right?”
Michael’s jaw clenches, the scar at his temple catching the light as he steps forward.
“Your mother saved me when your necromancer father cast the spell that would’ve killed me.
I owe her my life.” He thrusts the book into Pierce’s chest with a dull thud.
“I’ll take my leave, but the moment any of you step foot outside of this building, the aegis is bringing you in for questioning.
” He glances at Dakari and Leo, and then at the others.
“It’s a reckless leader who chooses civil war over dialogue. ”
There’s no getting through to him, so I keep my mouth shut, intending to let him go and be done with it. Leo, however, steps in front of him when he tries to leave.
“Get out of my way,” Michael says. “Or I’ll have you arrested as well.”
“You can’t arrest me, you eejit.” Galileo has always had a kind of quiet menace, and now it’s seeping from his every pore. “But as your parriarch, I can fecking destroy you, and no one will say a word. The only reason I haven’t is because the Librarian asked us to keep this peaceful.”
“I’m doing my duty. The same can’t be said for you. You’re choosing her over your own family.” Michael glances over his shoulder at Artemius. “You can’t seriously believe he’s fit to be parriarch.”
The old man rolls his eyes and struggles to his feet. “Not. My. Problem. I’m off to enjoy my retirement.”
Olivia pins Michael with a glare as she helps Artemius up, then says, “The Librarian saved our family from the curse. You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as her.”
She grabs the retired parriarch’s arm and helps him towards the nearest door.
As if the old man’s exit is the cue everyone else has been waiting for, the soldiers back away, leaving with disgruntled looks over their shoulders.
Once they’re gone, the professors follow, chattering about what they’ve just witnessed.
Hopkinson lingers, and I offer him a tired smile. “I appreciate what you did.”
I’m not sure Michael would’ve behaved half as well without witnesses. A few insults are nothing compared to how badly I was prepared for that meeting to go.
I anticipated spells being thrown, grimoires flying open. They brought enough agents that the resulting damage to the Arcanaeum would’ve been severe. I don’t want more death and destruction in this building.
“Think nothing of it.” He waves me off. “A little rebellion is good for the soul, after all. I’m just glad we could get that all cleared up.
As for classes, is there anything we can do to help restore the Arcanaeum?
I have a few students looking to specialise in transmutation next year who would love the practice. ”
My heart melts, and I nod. “That would be very much appreciated, Magister. Thank you.”
“No. Thank you.” Hopkinson’s eyes grow a little shinier. “Teaching is my life. When they announced that liminals were suspended…I’ve not had a reason to leave my house for two weeks now.”
Lambert is there before I can say anything else, wrapping an arm around the older man and giving him a huge grin.
“Hey, have you heard of the Men-Tal Health coffee mornings, Magister? I was thinking we could run them here from now on, before class. It would be awesome to have some teachers coming, too.”
I don’t hear Hopkinson’s reply because the others are gathering around me.
“That went better than I expected,” North grumbles. “You didn’t even need to kick them out.”
Eddy’s invisibility spell drops, and she lays down the anti-gravity bombs I armed her with, sighing as she leans over the balcony of the Gallery above. “I’m almost disappointed. I wanted to see their faces when we put them on their asses.”
I hum under my breath, not commenting. I fear the time for such measures is closer than she thinks.
“Mathias won’t be happy that we made such a public spectacle of your innocence,” I tell them, my eyes landing on Pierce.
“Isidora’s rotting corpse will undoubtedly appear to make a pretty speech denouncing what we just did.” Halinor leans heavily against the desk. “The six families have never publicly broken like this—”
“They have,” I correct. “But it’s usually individual feuds. Talcott against Carlton, or Ackland against McKinley. Enforcement has never been weaponized before. It’s not their job to get involved in politics. They’re supposed to protect against necromancy.”
But Mathias and Isidora have created a culture where necromancers are around every corner, and every liminal is at risk of becoming one at any moment.
In doing so, they’ve convinced enough of their own people that the threat necessitates radical action, allowing them to expand the scope of the agency with minimal opposition.
It can’t last.
But when the dust settles, it will all be too late.
“Mathias will come after us for this.” Halinor taps her fingernails against my desk. “What’s our plan?”
“Right now, the other families aren’t his main focus.” I meet her stare levelly. “He’s going to come after the Arcanaeum, and we’re going to make it so tempting that you shouldn’t have to worry about much beyond keeping enforcement in their place.”
“That right?” She pins Jasper with a look. “And you’ve got a plan for what you’ll do when a powerful lich with a grudge shows up on the doorstep?”
“Aye.” He offers her a charming smile. “A good one.”
That’s stretching the truth, but I understand what he’s doing.
The further away his family is from all of this, the safer they are.
Unfortunately, his aunt doesn’t seem the type to accept platitudes.
“The plan relies on as many spies entering the Arcanaeum as possible,” I add. “And on him thinking we’re weak. So if the clan hears any rumours about the Library malfunctioning in the next few weeks…”
“Play them up.” Halinor nods. “We can do that.”
She turns to leave, but just before she does, her head tilts towards me, her eyes sparking with a silent demand that passes too quickly for anyone else to catch.
I walk around the desk, trailing beside her as she hobbles towards the door.
“You keep that boy safe,” she orders, too quietly for the rest of the heirs to hear. “We’ve lost him twice now. We’re not lucky enough to get him back a third time.”
I swallow. “By my honour, I intend for all of us to come out of this alive.”
“How does this end, Librarian?” she asks, her question stark with concern. “Not with Mathias, I know his days are numbered. How does whatever’s between you and those six boys end?”
And because it’s also weighing heavily on my mind, I know exactly what she’s asking.
“Perhaps it won’t,” I murmur, looking back at them, gathered around my desk. “Would that bother you?”
She hums under her breath. “Not unless you plan on choosing one of the others and leaving the clan to navigate the fallout.”
“It’s all of them or none of them,” I say. “For as long as they’ll have me.”
Jasper’s eyes meet mine, silently offering to rescue me from Halinor. I smile, giving him the barest shake of my head. I’ve survived worse than a concerned aunt.
She huffs. “I don’t think they’re going anywhere.”
My heart does a little flip. “No. I hope they aren’t.”