Chapter 55
Fifty-Five
Kyrith
Idon’t know how long it takes for me to wake up again. The last thing I remember was watching Mathias die.
He’s gone. Dead.
I should feel relief, and I do, but it’s the cold, logical kind that accompanies being stuck in my ghost form.
I didn’t imagine that then.
I’m back in the Vault, lying on the altar once more, feeling the tread of hundreds of footsteps across my skin.
Every inch of me aches, but it’s not my body; it’s the Arcanaeum itself.
I lay immobile, unable to summon the energy to throw myself from the stone like I want to.
I exhausted everything I had trying to protect them.
Holding the balcony up drained what paltry magic remained within the Library.
When I passed out, watching Mathias fall from Jasper’s blade, I thought that was it.
The end.
Above me, a windowpane fuses back together in the Arcane History section.
There are people everywhere. I can feel them moving through the halls, the tiny sparks of their magic sinking into the floor as they repair the cracks in the tiles and the shattered shelves.
An enormous amount of power is being poured into the dome of the Rotunda.
Curiosity has me in a chokehold, but it takes hours to summon the energy to move. Floating shouldn’t take this much effort. I have no weight to hold me down.
This is worse than how I used to feel after my death reenactment.
I just want to know what’s going on.
Gliding through the spire, I stop to rest on the floor of the Rotunda, grimacing when someone immediately walks right through me.
I guess I’m still invisible.
“Is the Divination Tower done yet?” Leo asks.
My head whips around, and I find him standing before my desk, leaning over a piece of paper spread atop it. He’s cleaned up since I last saw him, wearing new clothes. How long has it been?
On either side of him there are…flowers.
Dozens of bouquets with tiny white cards poking out of them line the base of my desk.
“Aye.” Halinor leans heavily on her stick. “And the Transmutation Tower. The main halls need more work, but I reckon we can get the ground floor done by Monday.”
I drag myself towards the flowers, only to stop when I read the words on the cards closest to me.
The Library isn’t the same without you.
World’s Best Librarian.
Sorely missed by everyone at UAA.
These are funeral bouquets. The kind you leave in the place where someone died.
They think I’m…dead.
Are they even wrong?
“Good. That’s good.” Leo looks as tired as I feel. “Is everyone aware of the announcement?”
“Everyone who can come will be here tomorrow, as you ordered. And it will be broadcast on all of our news channels.” Halinor rests a hand on his bicep. “I dinnae want to overstep, but you’ve been at this for days. You need to take a break.”
Leo stiffens, then sighs, nodding. “When Lambert gets back. He shouldn’t be long.”
Halinor watches him quietly, then nods, as if pleased with his sincerity. “See that you do. I’ll tell everyone to clear out for the night.”
She limps away, leaning heavily on her stick.
“What announcement?” I ask, my voice a threadbare whisper that neither of them hears. “What are you up to?”
I manage to pull myself up so I’m sitting on the desk beside him. His ice-blue gaze passes right through me.
Like I’m not even here.
I reach out, imagining I can tuck that wayward strand of red-tipped black hair out of his face, but nothing happens.
On my left, a door opens, and Pierce steps through, North at his heels.
My throat convulses in a silent sob.
Mathias is gone. They’re free to come and go as they please.
It’s everything I hoped for.
And all I can do is watch them go about their lives from behind a pane of glass. Never touching, never speaking.
“If you don’t take care of the Library,” I tell the three of them as they gather wordlessly around my desk. “I will…”
I trail off…because what can I do?
Absolutely nothing. I don’t even have the strength to lift paper.
“It’s getting better,” North comments. “But…”
“Still not there,” Leo says. “I know. But the doors started opening again, so we must be on the right track. The repairs to the roof might do it. It took some heavy damage.”
“What if that doesn’t work?” Pierce demands.
“Have you got a better idea?” Leo turns away from the paper, which I now see is a sketch of the stained-glass pattern that once graced the ceiling. “You should tell us if you do, no matter what it is.”
His words are layered with double meaning, and Pierce bites his lip. “I’m working on something.”
“What?” North demands.
“It’s theory at the moment.” Pierce looks around. “I’ll tell you when I have something concrete.”
The Ackland heir frowns. “We could help—”
“It’s not your speciality.” The Carlton heir’s shutdown is quick. “Give me a few more days. We might not need it. Like you said...the roof is a big deal.”
“I brought Thai food,” Lambert says, walking through the door with white plastic bags in each hand. “Hope you’re all hungry.”
The words are peppy, but his face is just as strained as the rest of them.
“You all need rest,” I tell them sternly. “And whatever this is…” I swallow. “Thank you.”
Because if I’m right, they’ve recruited all of these people to fix the Arcanaeum.
At least, if I’m to be trapped here again, the building won’t be left a ruin.
They’re still living in the Clock Tower.
All of them.
Lambert and Jasper sleep in my bed that night, and I’ve even caught the others sneaking naps in it. I’ll never admit it, but more often than not, I’ll curl into their sides, hovering above the mattress.
When I berate myself for it—because I shouldn’t be going through the motions of heartbreak when I’m incapable of feeling it properly—I tell myself I’m doing it on the off chance that contact helps me regain my body like it did when they rescued me.
I’d hoped to find the other librarians, but after hours of roaming the halls, I’ve yet to see any sign of them. Perhaps they’re gone. Perhaps I’m the last.
That harrowing thought is enough to drive me to wonder if it might’ve been better had the Library been destroyed.
Because now, as Leo and the other five stand in front of my desk, surrounded on all sides by arcanists, cameras, and reporters, I can admit that the repairs are helping.
The major repairs to the upper floors started this morning, and with every passing hour the strain in my body—in the Library—has eased.
“Rector ó Rinn, you’re live,” a woman in a pressed suit says from beside a camera.
There is far too much technology in this room, but my presence doesn’t fry it as I drift closer.
“Good evening,” Leo begins, hands by his sides, every inch an arcanist born for this role. “We called you all here because, as leaders, we owe our houses open and honest accountability.”
I snort. That will be a first for the parriarchy.
“Many of you know by now that members of enforcement have been permitted to view the grimoires of Isidora Carlton and Mathias Ackland and have confirmed both were necromancers.”
I must’ve missed that. I hope he put them back in the Vault when he was done. Ugh, I spent so long denying the rumour that there were grimoires hidden under the Arcanaeum.
“You better have had a good reason for ruining my hard work,” I mutter under my breath, floating around him.
“Since then, myself and the other parriarchs have pre-emptively presented our grimoires for inspection by enforcement. As have the heirs, those parriarchs who stepped down before us, and everyone else in the upper levels of government. Multiple arrests have been made, and the trials will be public. We should never have reached a point where one necromancer was allowed into leadership, let alone this many. Isidora and Mathias have shaken your confidence in the parriarchy, and we intend to put it right.”
He takes a deep breath, settling himself.
“You can’t have trust without honesty. From now on, all enforcement officers and parriarchs will have their grimoires checked for dark magic every five years.
Anyone who has a problem with this is more than welcome to leave the force.
I’m also formally disbanding the aegis and revoking the overreaching powers that Isidora gave them. ”
Good. That’s good. Most men in his position would’ve simply carried on, given vague condemnations of the past, and not learned from the ordeal.
It might cause issues for Pierce, given his grimoire, but the forgery I made for him should hold up for a few decades, longer if he uses it occasionally. Maybe by then he will have stepped down.
“There have been questions about who will now lead Winthrop, Ackland, and Carlton.” Leo looks at Lambert, North, and Pierce as he says it. “All of us are in agreement that the position of vicegerent is antiquated and open to abuse. So, I’m abolishing it.”
There are grumbles at that. Understandable. Change is hard, and there are a bunch of powerful magisters who were no doubt hoping to be chosen.
Leo powers on. “Every house will have an elected body, made up of four magisters with regulatory powers. Where necessary, they will lead until an heir is ready to step up. Even after those parriarchs ascend, the magisters will stay on as advisers, bridging the gap between parriarchs and their families, and taking on many of the bureaucratic burdens of the role.”
The mood in the room turns cautiously hopeful. Arcandom has studiously resisted any form of democracy for centuries, much to the disappointment of the less powerful.
This is either the start of great change, or Leo and the others will find themselves assassinated before morning.
Our relationship has pulled the six of them into a friendship that’s rare for the parriarchs, so they’re safe from each other, if nothing else.
I swallow back the urge to berate him for taking things too fast and putting himself at risk. These are good ideas.