Chapter 60
Sixty
Kyrith
Two uneventful days have passed since the Arcanaeum meddled with the spell, and that’s about as much idleness as I can stand before I decide to return to work.
I don’t have a body, but my own power is more than enough to accomplish most of the things I once did.
I feel a little guilty that I’m not still hoarding magic to hasten the Arcanaeum’s regeneration, but the building doesn’t mind.
If anything, it whispers with eagerness as I take my place behind my desk at nine on a Monday morning.
We’re both back where we’re meant to be, even if the other librarians are too worn out to do much more than open the doors as the minute hand ticks over.
No books are flying around. No carts trundle past.
Still, the response when the first patrons see me is more than gratifying.
“Librarian!”
“You’re back!”
I don’t have the heart to tell them all that they should be quiet in the Library. Though the flowers have long since been cleared away from around my desk, I still remember the sentiments on those cards.
“Magisters,” I greet them. “I’m glad to be back and fully recovered.”
Of course, that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Word spreads, and soon there’s a queue. Half of the patrons have complaints about how things were run in my absence. The other half are just there to thank me.
The most shocking part is when Magister Hopkinson and Professor Goodberry arrive bearing a huge bouquet from the university staff who taught in the Arcanaeum during Isidora’s ban on liminals.
My eyes trace upwards to the Gallery, where six very smug men watch me stutter my thanks and conjure a vase.
Slowly, the line goes down, but not before more gifts are handed to me.
I stumble my way through accepting books, bookmarks, chocolates—although I do question the point of those when I’m clearly unable to ingest anything—and even a handful of houseplants.
Soon my desk is so cluttered that I’m forced to start whisking them up to the Clock Tower.
It’s almost too much fuss.
There’s always one of my bonded leaning over the balcony above, watching me protectively. When it’s closing time, Jasper is right there, luring me away from the desk with a smile.
“Enjoy yourself?” he asks as we wander back to the Clock Tower.
I hum under my breath. “I made it to the end of the day without firing any of the volunteers or banishing any patrons, so I consider that a success.”
He smirks. “And the flowers?”
I blush. “I liked them. I was surprised anyone bothered to get me anything, really.”
“Dinnae tell Lambert, or you’ll be receiving them every day for the rest of your life. He’s already plotting.”
“Let him. Women deserve weekly flowers at a minimum,” Eddy says, joining us with Westley in her arms. “Men act like it’s such a big deal. If I had a girlfriend, and buying her flowers once a week was a guaranteed way to make her smile, you bet your ass I’d be doing that shit.”
I’m fairly certain she does have a girlfriend, if the way she and Lydia have been exchanging saliva during their study sessions is any indication. Still, I keep schtum, because their on-again-off-again relationship isn’t something she’s mentioned to the others.
“Aye, but this is Lambert. Kyrith will be drowning in pollen by the time he’s done.”
I snort at the image. “You have a point.”
We cross the parapet and enter the Clock Tower. Westley climbs onto Eddy’s shoulder in an effort to launch himself from her and onto me, despite my lack of physical form. Fortunately, he lands on the back of the sofa instead of falling to the floor.
I wish I could smell whatever Pierce is cooking, because the dish on the stove looks interesting, and Eddy gravitates towards it.
“Lasagne?” she checks.
“Not done yet.” He shoos her away with one hand, but lets me hover beside him, watching him grate cheese liberally over the top.
Eddy disappears upstairs as the rest of my men filter in. Leo is the last, and he flops down on the sofa, pinching his brow with a groan.
“Fecking parriarch bullshite,” he mutters.
Lambert offers him a commiserating pat on the back.
“I’m not rushing to graduate,” North mutters, heading for the fridge.
“Lasagne goes with red wine, not beer, you uncultured swine,” Pierce mutters.
North flips him off. “I was grabbing a snack.”
Pierce scoffs as he tucks the food safely into the oven, and then he turns to face me, reaching out like he’ll pull me into his arms. He stops and smiles ruefully.
“Ah. Sorry.”
The cabinets around him sag, and I sigh. “Maybe we should talk about this…”
He glares at me. “Darling, I forgot for one second. It doesn’t change anything.”
“You all signed the contract with a living, embodied version of me—”
“And we love you, regardless. It doesn’t matter if you get your body back in ten seconds or it never happens.”
I’ll never get tired of hearing him say that he loves me. Every time he does, I’m transported back to that snowy doorstep with the northern lights shimmering in the night sky beyond.
I’ll treasure that memory forever.
“I signed that contract because it made you feel safe,” Dakari adds. “But we’ve always been more than a sheet of paper, baby girl.”
“And what about when you want sex?” I push. “I can’t do anything on the list. There are six of you, and it’s not fair to—”
“Contrary to popular belief,” Leo says. “Our balls won’t fall off if we don’t get our dicks wet regularly.”
North nods. “What he said.”
“And you’re quite creative with your manipulation spells, lass,” Jasper reminds me, heat brimming in his eyes. “If you want to do something together, we’ll make it work.”
My mind flashes back to that hand job. It seems like eons ago that I was scared to touch him without cracking, even though it’s only been half a year.
“There are countless couples out there who can’t have sex for a million different reasons,” Lambert adds. “I’m happy with whatever makes you happy. Even if that’s just me reading you pages of your sexy little books to give you mindgasms while we cuddle.”
“Mindgasms aren’t a thing,” I mumble, even as I hug my middle.
I scan all of their faces, waiting for one of them to baulk. To say this wasn’t what they’d imagined or even signed up for.
None of them do.
“You’re ours forever, baby girl.” Dakari comes to stand directly in front of me, hands caressing shoulders he can’t feel. “Whatever that looks like.”
Lambert nods. “In sickness and in health, in ghostliness and in embodiedness.”
“However you’ll have us,” Leo adds.
If I could, I’d be crying. The shelves around us sigh, and I swallow to clear the imaginary lump blocking my throat.
“If you change your minds, I won’t hold it against you.”
“We won’t,” Jasper vows. “You’re our Librarian. Even when all that’s left of us is grimoires on those shelves in the Vault.”
The moment stretches, and I shake my head to clear that image. With luck, their connection to the Arcanaeum will give us many, many years before that even becomes a consideration.
“Speaking of the Vault…” Pierce changes the topic, diffusing the heaviness that has settled in the air. “Out of curiosity, did Anthea’s grimoire ever appear down there?”
I frown, sending the question to the Arcanaeum. What follows is…amusement and a vague negative.
“No…”
His lip quirks. “Interesting.”
“Are you saying there’s another necromancer on the loose?” Leo stands, grabbing his grimoire, but I put myself in front of him.
“I think he’s saying that…Anthea was forced to start a new grimoire by her grandfather, so it’s entirely plausible her bond to the new book was insufficient to have it summoned to the Vault.”
Leo raises a brow at my careful wording.
“She saved us,” I remind him quietly. “Her reasons might not have been noble, but as long as she remains dead, I don’t see any reason to dig any deeper. Do you? It would be a waste of time. The others need to study for their end-of-year examinations, not chase after loose ends.”
That they already spent so much time helping the Arcanaeum and me is a constant source of guilt.
“Lying, Librarian?”
“Absolute truth…” I trail off, leaving the motto unfinished.
“Is more dangerous than absolute power,” he quotes.
“We can watch her,” Pierce suggests. “Anthea’s always been too self-absorbed to accept a quiet banishment. She’ll stick her head above ground at some point. We have the resources to make sure she isn’t dabbling in dark magic again when she does.”
“If she wasnae your sister,” Jasper mutters. “I wouldnae be agreeing to this.”
Dakari surprises me by shrugging. “She was doing her best in a bad situation before. I agree. Give her the benefit of the doubt now that she’s out from under Isidora’s thumb.”
There are mumbles of agreement from everyone, some more reluctant than others. But in the end, what matters is the relief on Pierce’s face.