Chapter 57
Fifty-Seven
Kyrith
Hitting North with a book took all the power I’d regained and sent me straight back to the Vault. Now I’m waking up with no idea how much time has passed, again.
This is beyond frustrating.
The Library is bustling above me, but I lie there a little longer, summoning the energy to move.
They know I’m here.
I wasn’t going to interfere. I’d consigned myself to letting them go, but then Pierce’s experiment happened, and I did the most selfish thing I’ve ever done in my life.
I decided to answer Lambert.
The Winthrop heir had been talking to the ceiling for over a week before Pierce’s power experiment.
Most of it was banal, filling the silence with commentary on Westley’s behaviour, or his magiball training—which resumed when UAA reopened to liminals—but on one memorable occasion he started rambling about our wedding.
I twist the ring on my finger as I fight a sad smile.
Lambert insisted I’d walk down the aisle to the six of them in suits on a beach in Hawai’i, with a door in the audience so that the Library could attend.
I never answered him. Even when I felt I might be able to lift a sheet of paper.
If I were trapped like this, forever, then it would be cruel to lead him on. I fell back into old thought patterns, assuming that there was no future for us. I would never get to see that beach, or those suits, so what was the use in replying?
A clean break would’ve been best, no matter how much I hated it.
Ghosts shouldn’t really be able to cry, but even trapped in this void, I wanted to weep at every word of the future he sketched out.
But if there’s a chance? Even a fraction of one?
I’m fighting for it.
I want more magiball tournaments in the courtyard.
More kisses hidden between the stacks when the patrons aren’t looking.
More lazy mornings and evenings snuggled up between as many of them as I can fit in my bed.
More pizza. More cups of tea snuggled in my blankets with a good book.
More screaming orgasms. More threesomes. Moresomes.
So I blew out that candle and thwacked North with a book, like I’ve wanted to do for days.
Now all I can do is pray that they manage this without me, because I don’t have the power to lift a pen, much less draw a runeform.
With a sigh, I force myself away from the altar, floating up to the Rotunda. Hopkinson is teaching in the room to my left. Good. That much hasn’t changed.
Without meaning to, I drift into his class, finding North and Lambert in their usual place at the back.
Eddy has abandoned both of them and is sitting at a table of McKinleys in the middle of the room.
Every now and again, her eyes leave the image being projected onto the wall and linger on Lydia McKinley in the seat opposite her.
I’m so amused by my friend’s obvious crush that it takes me a second to realise someone is missing.
Where’s Jasper?
Is he sick? Concern furrows my brows, and I wrench myself up to the Clock Tower.
Only to find him and Pierce standing over the kitchen island, arguing.
Shirtless.
My brows perk up in interest. The lean lines of Pierce’s chest—scars hidden, once more—and the stockier, hair-dusted ones of Jasper’s, awaken a hopeless part of me.
In this form, I’m completely incapable of doing anything to satisfy those needs.
Still, a lady can look.
Then I tune into what they’re actually saying.
“This constellation willnae work.”
“I’m telling you that it’s the right one.”
“You asked for my help, remember? And this is more restoration than necromancy at this point.”
“It’s both,” Pierce protests. “And that means—”
“Quit arguing and get on with it.” Leo drops his head into his hands on the other side of the island. “Look, there’s only one shot at this. For the love of magic, try to collaborate.”
“It’s not so easy,” Jasper says. “No one has merged restoration and necromancy before. I’m still not sure it can be done.” He rakes his hand through his hair.
“It can.” Leo grabs the three stained mugs and heads for the kettle. “We’re already making progress.”
“If not for Kyrith, I wouldnae be touching this stuff with a barge pole.” Jasper grimaces and shoots an apologetic glance at Pierce. “No offence.”
“None taken.” Pierce stands, steals his mug from Leo, and takes it over to the coffee machine. It starts up loudly, forcing him to raise his voice to add, “I hate it too, remember? I’d be more worried if you weren’t conflicted, given your previous experiences.”
“It might be necromancy,” Leo says. “But we aren’t killing anyone or stealing their magic. That matters.”
“Agreed.” Pierce watches the coffee stream into his mug with a pensive expression. “The forbidden school is traditionally focused on acquiring power. This is probably the only time I’ve seen it used for the opposite. The goal is restoration, even if the magic is…not.”
Jasper sighs, his attention already drifting back to the paper-strewn island. “I still dinnae think you’re using the right constellation.” He plucks out a star chart and marks something on it. “Try this one.”
Pierce crosses to look at the paper, lips twisting as he considers it.
Leo observes them as he finishes up the tea, bringing over the mugs and setting them down with a chink. “Ethics aside, this is the only way to get Kyrie back. We have to make it work.”
The other two make low noises of assent, and I lift, hovering horizontally over their work so I can join them properly.
They’re using a copy of the runeform used to bind souls to the Arcanaeum, but Pierce has overlaid it with a constellation commonly used in restoration spells, like he’s trying to merge the two.
Suddenly their working together makes more sense. Pierce knows necromancy, Jasper is a restoration prodigy, and Leo’s curse involved runeforms with merged constellations. Between the three of them, they may actually have a chance.
Westley jumps up onto the counter, heading straight for me, and Leo curses.
“Get that fecking cat off the runeform.”
The white-furred fiend sits beneath me, swatting at the end of my braid, but I’m too busy to pay attention to him or watch as Jasper picks him up and relocates him to the floor.
“This is complicated magic,” I murmur. “Two master level schools. If you don’t have enough power or the runeforms are off by even a fraction…”
It might not work. Worse, the spell would be inefficient, burning through even more energy than master level runeforms normally do. The six of them are strong, but if they tried to force it, the drain could kill them.
That worry pushes to the forefront of my mind as I start carefully checking their methodology.
Benny’s book on healing magical wells sits open by Jasper’s elbow.
I crane my neck, floating through them as I use it for reference.
There’s an error in this line… Or is that related to the necromancy they’re using?
If it’s a mistake, then it needs to be fixed before they try anything.
Without thinking, I move to brush one page aside so I can continue reading the incantation. It’s a tiny manipulation spell; the kind I used hundreds of times a day before they entered my life. My magic is slow, sluggish. The corner of the page barely lifts.
The damage is done anyway.
“Kyrith?” Pierce asks, eyes lasering in on the motion.
My vision is dimming again. Even if I could answer him, I’m too busy fighting the draw.
No. Not back to the Vault. I need to help—Damnit!
They could die.
That’s my first thought as I return to consciousness on the altar. Once again, the rise through the Vault and up into the Rotunda is painfully slow, and I have to pause when I reach my desk to regather my wits.
Trying to save me could kill them.
And I would live an eternity like this, mourning them without end.
I’d almost rather let things be.
Dakari is walking up Botanical Hall as I sit amongst the piles of flowers that haven’t abated in however long it's been since Leo’s speech. He looks tired. On edge. The few patrons still lingering at this late hour give him a wide berth as he strides between the reading tables.
“Do you all know?” I ask him. “Are you all in on this crazy plan of theirs?”
“Another one for your collection, baby girl,” he mutters, slipping a book from the inside of his jacket and adding it to a pile on my desk.
Exhaustion beats at me as I raise my head from my knees, trying to read the title.
“Shifters?” I smile, posture slouching. “Thank you, but you might have to turn the pages for me.”
Trapped in the Library yet unable to read has to be a new level of excruciating irony.
“It’s got some of your ‘art’ in it too,” he mumbles under his breath. “Don’t let Lambert see it, or he’ll get even more pushy about giving you that orgy for your birthday.”
My brows shoot into my hairline.
“Open the book?” I plead.
But he can’t hear me. His fingers tap dance over the black wolf on the cover instead.
“You better come back soon.” He sighs. “Leo insists on waiting for you to tell us you’ve read the plan, but honestly I’m half-convinced you’ve seen Lambert’s dog buttons and told him to go fuck himself.”
Dog buttons?
What in magic’s name…?
“If you don’t say something soon, I’m taking my grimoire and casting it by myself,” Dakari finishes. “I can’t take another month of this.”
I drag myself to my feet, floating up again with an imperceptible kiss on his cheek.
I’m too tired for this, but if Lambert has brought home a dog, I have to do something.
It turns out, there is no dog, but there are dozens of sheets of paper, carefully laid out in lines across the living room floor. Each page is littered with runeforms and notes. Someone has drawn arrows between them, establishing a clear reading order.
Below them, a dozen brightly coloured buttons with black paw prints have been neatly arranged. They’re obviously designed for some above-average-intelligence canine, but Lambert has repurposed them. For me.
“This is ridiculous,” I tell Westley, who rubs his body against my leg like he can actually see me, purring. “This idea of his is either genius or insulting, and he better hope I decide it’s the former.”
The buttons are splayed out like a modern Ouija board, each one labelled in thick black marker. They’ve provided me with a way to say: the alphabet, their names, yes, no, maybe, and fuck you—that one was probably North’s idea. I refuse to acknowledge the bright pink button labelled ‘good boy.’
Beneath those, four more buttons lie atop matching sheets of paper. The pages are crammed with words written in Leo’s neat cursive.
And on the sofa, fast asleep, are Pierce, Leo, Jasper, and Lambert.
“Awe, they passed out,” Eddy whispers, tiptoeing around them.
“Yeah. Doing a great job of waiting for Kyrith’s answer.” North rolls his eyes but keeps his tone quiet as he carries their bags through the door.
“Let them snooze,” she says. “They worked non-stop for weeks, and it’s only been two days since they finished. Kyrith might still be checking through it all.”
She takes a seat beside Jasper, pulling out her phone, but keeps a watchful eye on the buttons.
Stars above, they actually expect me to use these. Also, they spent weeks on this and finished two days ago? Just how much time am I wasting while I’m unconscious?
I frown as I settle in to read the first sheet.
They think they’ve managed to find a way to channel more magic into the Arcanaeum without killing someone. Now they want me to check their work.
If they’re right, it might at least let me assume my ghost form. I would be able to talk to them.
With a groan, I hover horizontally above the mess and get started.
“This would be a lot easier if I could lift a pen,” I murmur.