Chapter 49
Forty-Nine
Kyrith
Walking down Botanical Hall alone is both nerve-wracking and heart-rending.
The aegis agents clearly respect me enough not to hinder my progress towards the Rotunda, but the lines of them loom over me on both sides.
Black, uniformed, masked invaders, sure of their conquest.
I’ve never felt so small.
I wish I could glide a little higher to compensate, but my ghostliness is still just an illusion. A necessary one. If they don’t believe they can touch me, they won’t try to.
At any moment, they might discover Anthea, Dakari, and the others hiding around the Arcanaeum. Or Mathias might finally deign to join his goons and spark a battle that will consume all that remains of the Library.
This part of the plan is fraught with risk. I don’t want violence, but there’s no way to guarantee that outcome.
A commander strides up to me, boots loud on the wooden floor.
His gold buttons glint in the dim light, matching his bright blond hair.
Liam Carlton. A second cousin of Pierce’s, if I remember rightly.
His grimoire is known to the Arcanaeum—even though it’s now coated in the oily magic that’s unique to necromancers—so his mask does nothing to hide his identity from me.
Before he can do more than open his mouth, I hold up a hand.
“Good morning, Commander Carlton. Please call your people to the Rotunda. As you can see, there’s no one here for you to arrest.”
I was expecting Michael ó Rinn. No matter. I can feel his grimoire nearby, so no doubt he’ll turn up shortly. I’m counting on his presence for this plan to work.
“Where are the liminals, Librarian?”
I shrug. “I’m not in the habit of repeating myself.”
Affecting a false air of equanimity, I continue my walk.
He’s not giving the order, but it doesn’t matter. Enough of his people are curious that they’re following me anyway. The cracks in my illusion cover me entirely, vivid lines of inky black forking through my jumper and long skirts. With any luck, someone is reporting that ‘weakness’ to Mathias.
“Would any other commanders in attendance please come to the desk?” I say, stepping around to the other side.
The crowd swells, my nerves growing apace. Stars. He must’ve sent hundreds of them. They barely fit into the room.
Hidden by an invisibility spell, Dakari slams the doors shut. A signal that they’re all here.
“You’re not in a position to make demands,” Liam protests, but Blanche steps forward, becoming visible on the Gallery above.
Pages flick loudly through the hall, aegis agents drawing up, ready to fight.
“It’s a trap,” Liam growls.
“Nothing of the sort,” I reply primly, clasping my hands in front of me as fear shoots down my spine.
“Enforcement is merely here to do their jobs. Though I understand why you, of all people, would be nervous, given how much necromancy is dripping from your grimoire.” His eyes drop to it.
“Yes, I can tell. It’s one of my many talents. ”
The spine of the man in front of me stiffens. Murmurs start to rise from the lines of military neat arcanists around me.
“Librarian—”
“I’m not finished.” The snap in my voice shuts him up almost as effectively as the way the aegis around him are bristling. “Enforcement is here to protect your families, members of which are up on the Gallery as witnesses.”
Slowly, the parents, grandparents, siblings, and children of the aegis agents creep into view. Blanche’s people have been rounding them up all morning, inviting them here on my behalf. They’re not hostages. They could’ve refused.
I’m not entirely sure why they didn’t.
The problem with trying to divide arcandom is that at the heart of our society are six families. Six groups so intricately connected that it’s impossible to separate them. Everyone knows someone.
No one wants to lose anyone. Not really.
The aegis are already lowering their grimoires, their faces filling with horror.
More than half of those above are liminals. Some have even ignored my request that they leave underage arcanists at home and brought their children with them. I even catch sight of Eddy, who was supposed to have left with Hopkinson and the other evacuees.
North’s going to kill her.
My gut swoops. Innocent bystanders are here now. They could get caught in the crossfire.
Which is exactly why enforcement agreed, despite their grumbles, that their priority is the protection of those above.
The aegis agents below are shuffling. Uncomfortable.
Even with the dozens of shielding spells I put between us and the Gallery, and the extensive evacuation plans, my skin is crawling.
“What is this, Librarian?” Michael steps forward.
I offer him a cordial head tilt. “Agent ó Rinn, I’m glad you’re here.
We don’t often agree, but you once reminded me of the power of truth.
For all your faults, you’ve also never touched dark magic.
Would you please scan Commander Carlton’s grimoire?
After all, to paraphrase the late, great Isidora Carlton, if he has nothing to hide… he has nothing to fear.”
A bead of sweat forms at Michael’s hairline. Liam is his superior, and he splutters, “Absolutely not!”
The outrage from above is immediate.
“Why not?”
“Show them you’re innocent, Pops!”
“Libby, you know that spell. Come forward and do as the Librarian says.”
“I am not a necromancer!” Liam pales as the reason for the people on the Gallery becomes abundantly clear.
The aegis is now on trial, and their own loved ones are the jury.
“An alternative, then?” I offer. “State that exact phrase under a truth spell. It was sufficient to clear Northcliff Ackland a few weeks ago. If a liminal heir is willing to do it, surely a trustworthy adept like yourself wouldn’t object.”
“You’re stalling. This institution is hiding liminals—”
“Liam, mate, just get it over with.” A heavily accented man mutters from within the aegis ranks. “She’s talking bollocks, but your mum’s up there, and she don’t look happy.”
Michael’s eyes narrow as the entire assembly watches their commander stutter and struggle to come up with an excuse. With the subtlest tilt of his head, two aegis agents step forward.
“Not her.” I point at the woman on the left. “She’s also used dark magic, though not to the same degree.”
The woman pales, raising her hands in surrender. “No. Well. Not since I was a teenager! I ripped the page out as soon as I realised what I was doing. I swear, I never killed anyone. What happened to my sister’s rabbit was an accident…”
Her confession is like a bomb. Outraged gasps echo through the Rotunda.
Everyone starts yelling at once.
Liam rushes me. Grimoire flying to his side. He makes it two steps before he’s caught by a wave of manipulation magic that crushes him to the fog-drenched floor.
Dakari.
Thank magic.
I didn’t move. Didn’t flinch, but it was a close thing.
My heart is in my throat as Michael strides forward, glares at me, and picks up the grimoire that fell to the floor in the fracas. With narrowed eyes, he hands it to the aegis agent who’s still rooted to the spot, watching his rabbit-murdering partner as she's wrestled to the ground.
The book thuds against his chest, and he jerks like it electrocuted him.
“Scan them,” Michael spits the order. “Librarian, if this isn’t some kind of trick, do you not think such a talent might’ve benefited everyone had you chosen to reveal it sooner?”
I meet his stare. “I am here to serve, not subjugate. Besides, my days of being used by the parriarchs are far behind me.”
“Sir, they’re…they’re necromancers.” The agent behind Michael looks up from the grimoires he’s placed on one of the reading desks, face slack with panic.
“Who else?” Michael demands.
“Check them all!” someone yells from above.
“Corrupt bastards.”
The insults keep coming. I let them rage for a few minutes, but eventually I shake my head and make eye contact with Blanche, who shushes them.
“The commanders. If you please.”
Some—those who know their innocence—stride forward with righteousness dripping from their every pore.
One or two are shoved to the front. Others try to attack, but they’re outnumbered.
If not by their own people, then by the enforcement officers slipping into the Rotunda behind them.
I step around the desk, losing the protection that the wood afforded me as I walk the line of arcanists assembled for my perusal.
“Heather Winthrop,” I say, swallowing to try to get past the disgusting taste that emanates from her. “Reginald Talcott…”
By the time I make it to the end of the line, I’ve called out more than half of them.
“So many.” Michael gapes in shock as I return to stand nearer to him.
Yes. It’s bad. Before this year, the last known person to be arrested for necromancy was Pierce’s father. That was decades ago. Now, I’ve uncovered a handful in just one room. All in the upper echelons of a group that was supposed to eradicate them.
It almost makes Isidora’s inflated statistics seem credible, although not in the way she intended. Most of these people are adepts.
I may not like Michael, but his jobsworth tendencies make him a known variable, and the crowd makes him malleable. I need both of those things.
“The aegis was never created to root out necromancy or protect arcanists,” I announce, drawing the eyes of the room again.
“It was created to appease an agenda that would tear families apart based on antiquated ideals of magical purity. It was varnished with ideals that any sane person would admire, but underneath, it was always about control.” I take a deep breath.
“In five hundred years, I have never broken my impartiality, even when threatened.”
I let my gaze rest on Michael as I say it.
“Get on with whatever you have to say,” he grumbles.
My indrawn breath is deep but does little to steady me.
“Isidora Carlton was a necromancer. She took up the practice in her second year at UAA, after she’d already been admitted to the Arcanaeum.
Mathias Ackland is worse. That’s why he’s been banished for centuries.
The two of them have been persecuting liminals for their own benefit, not for the protection of the people here.
Now he wants to use you to take the Arcanaeum for himself. ”
The room is mute. Many of them must want to contradict me, but no one will dare now that proof of my ability is right there in front of them.
“I am not asking you to fight for the Library. I am not asking you to arrest him. I am merely asking you to go home. To refuse to answer his summons. Spend time with the families you’re so eager to protect and allow the other parriarchs and I to deal with him.”
At that moment, Dakari, Jasper, and North reveal themselves behind me, arms folded over their chests. A wall of strength that I long to retreat closer to.
I deny myself the luxury. Right now, I can’t afford to appear weak.
Wait. Where are Leo and Lambert? Why is Pierce not back yet?
They’re not here.
My stomach, which had begun to relax, ties itself back into knots as my mind conjures a hundred different scenarios, but I can’t let myself falter now.
“Go home,” I repeat, staring down the aegis. “Stand aside and heal. Deal with the traitors I’ve unmasked for you. Focus on uncovering the others who knew about this but chose to turn a blind eye out of greed.”
The reluctance on Michael’s face is plain. Being the dutiful asshole that he is, he says, “It’s our job to fight necromancy.”
“Aye, and it’s a parriarch’s job to put an end to it,” Jasper argues, jerking his thumb at the now-restrained arcanists on the floor. “Interrogate those fuckers. Clean house. Leave Mathias to us.”
“In all my years, I have never once asked my patrons for anything,” I say softly.
“And I will return to work, serving arcandom, for as long as I exist. But now I’m begging you; please, go home in peace.
The Arcanaeum is not a battleground, and I will not let Mathias Ackland, or anyone else, turn it into one. ”
Michael looks around, perhaps seeking some superior officer to make the decision for him. No such luck. Anyone who could’ve is restrained with magical cuffs on the floor.
Something in my chest fizzes. The sensation growing until it’s sucking at my insides.
I have just enough presence of mind to confirm it’s a magical drain before I shut it away, forcing my illusion to remain steady.
Where are the others? What’s happening with the dagger?
Frustration bubbles in my throat as I wait for Michael’s answer. My pain is growing by the second.
“I want your word,” he finally says. “When this is over, you’ll check every single member of enforcement and the aegis.”
“Done,” I agree, mostly to get rid of him. “But after that, no more. I am not here to pass judgement on my patrons. I am here—”
“To protect the fecking library, yes, I heard you the first dozen times.” He lets out a frustrated breath. “What about new recruits? You can check—”
“You can discuss it later.” The doors reopen with a wave of Dakari’s hand. “Right now, there isn’t time.”
Some of them are already leaving, and I see the moment Michael realises he’s lost this fight. He sighs. “Fine.” A pause. “Good luck, Librarian. I’ll return tomorrow.”
I gesture to Blanche, the movement jerky, but she understands. The people on the Gallery disperse as well. I can’t even see Eddy under the crush of people.
Waiting until they’re all gone almost kills me. The final door slams, and I collapse against the desk with a groan.
“What’s happening?” I gasp, turning to find the three men behind me have gone pale and tense as well.
“Magical drain,” Jasper confirms. “I think—”
“The dagger is broken,” Dakari finishes.
“It can’t be,” I protest, dispelling the illusion of my ghost form to preserve what magic I have left. “I can’t feel the Library.”
If it’s draining all of us, does Pierce even have the energy to cast the spell needed to break the—?
A door slams open to our left, a tumble of men falling through. Pierce’s white shirt is soaked in blood. Lambert’s arm looks burnt.
“Close it!” Leo yells.
No one needs to tell Dakari twice.
Mathias is on the other side, smirking. He doesn’t follow. He just stands there, smirking, as the door shuts between us. My heart pounds, waiting for it to open again. Waiting for him to stride through.
Nothing.
What’s he playing at?
Deep in my bones, the heavy weight of my own fear takes root.