Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
Galileo
The books start pelting me barely four steps down the hall.
Not little ones either. Massive fecking tomes that might as well be bricks. The first one thwacks me in the back of the head. The second smacks my arse.
“Hey! Ouch! Stop it. Oi! Knock it off!” I bat at the books, but the Arcanaeum doesn’t give two shites what I want.
When the books finally stop attacking, I come face to face with a stack of them that’s taller than I am.
Why Your Relationship is Failing: A Guide for Male Arcanists
So You Fucked Up, and What To Do About It
100 Magical Ways To Say I’m Sorry That Actually Work.
More and more books are being added to the pile by the second. When it reaches the ceiling, it starts again on the left, forming a wall.
Worse, when I try to dodge around the fecking things, they keep pace with me.
“Will you cut it out!” I bat away a copy of Show Her: Why Apologising is Meaningless Without Action and glower at the walls. “I’ve got shite to do.”
It’s remarkably hard to argue with a building, but at least it stops throwing books at me.
Sighing in relief, I take a step towards the nearest door.
Crack. It disappears. Along with all of the other ones in this hallway.
Every. Single. One.
The Arcanaeum is crammed with doors, but apparently, it’s decided I’m not going to be using any of them.
“Look, does she want me to leave or stay?” I demand. “Because I’m getting mixed messages.”
In answer, a staircase tumbles into being before me. I’m willing to bet this isn’t Kyrith’s doing. I’m dealing with the Library now, and it wants me to go downstairs, where she said Dakari, Jasper, and the ‘good’ Carltons would be waiting.
A Talcott.
My gut twists.
I’m not in the headspace to deal with this. At least with Mathias, I had a plan.
Get the runeform dealt with, gather what information I can, and then get out. Oh sure, I’d promise whatever he wanted, but the great thing about promises? They don’t mean shite if they’re not on paper.
I have no issue with lying to Mathias’s face. I’ll gladly relinquish whatever honour I have left if it keeps her safe.
I’ll take precautions. Every protection I know, and a transport spell to get me out of there if it looks like he’s backing out of our deal. If things go south, I can blackmail him. He doesn’t want the world to know that he’s a lich or that Isidora is a necromancer, and I can use that.
A book shoves me forward onto the first step, and I grit my teeth. “I don’t trust Dakari.”
To be honest, I don’t trust Pierce and his mad grandfather either.
Or the lich and his disciples.
At least if the Talcott heir messes with me, I’m fairly sure Kyrith will chuck books at him until he gets brain damage.
My heart pangs a little painfully in my chest at the thought of her, all riled up with fury. I didn’t… Nothing I just did was planned. I never thought I’d tell her. At least not until my curse was dealt with.
I didn’t even dare admit it to myself until she pushed and then…
Well, at least I was enough of a bastard that my feelings will never, ever be reciprocated. Perhaps that will spare her the worst of the curse. Maybe it will even force me to move on.
Not likely. Still, I’ve been trying my best to control my feelings for the better part of my life now. Perhaps I could try to make myself fall in love with Mathias while I’m at it.
At least then I could be useful.
Being told Kyrith no longer wants me here, in the only place that has ever felt like home, makes me want to put my fist through the wall. Never return to the Library? Never see her again?
No. Just no. She has to forgive me.
Only…she doesn’t. The Librarian is spectacularly stubborn, her pride a beautiful, steely thing. I could beg, grovel, but I’m not stupid. There’s almost no chance it’ll work.
My breath may as well be coming through a straw by the time I force my attention away from the dread strangling me and back to the staircase.
Now isn’t the time. The books at my back are doing their best to shove me head over arse.
Obliging them, I take a single step, then another, my leaden footsteps echoing hollowly down the stairwell.
Pragmatically, this way is better. If they’re ready to break the second layer now, that’s better than waiting for Friday. I’ll have some time to recover before we tackle the final runeform. There’s time for Kyrith to figure it out.
Maybe she’ll manage it.
I still cling to that hope, despite the creeping countdown chilling my blood.
I could have months to go, but my gut says it won’t be that long.
A dread voice in the back of my mind warns that it won’t be enough, that I should send a copy of the final layer to Mathias the second I have it.
Or smarter still, end it before Lambert or Kyrith can come to harm.
Seeing Dakari’s black gaze staring up at me from the base of the stairwell makes me stiffen. Kyrie asked me to do this. I owe her this much after how I’ve treated her. Still, it feels like descending into a pool with a feral shark.
The comparison is only made worse when he tries to deck me the moment I’m within arm’s reach.
“Oi, what was that for!” I demand, dodging.
“You tried to sell her out,” he growls, grabbing me by the scruff of the neck when I would’ve put space between us. “Pierce told us all about your little meeting with Anthea.”
And he’s decided to defend Kyrie’s honour. How noble.
“I’m not here to explain myself to you.”
The Library seems to have closed off this section of the hallway, giving us the illusion of privacy. Even the windows have darkened, although that might be more of a reflection of Kyrith’s mood.
I’ve noticed everything tends to take on a deeper colour when she’s upset. The drapes, the furnishings, even the floor.
Or maybe the Arcanaeum is just pissed at me.
“Let’s just get this over with.” Even Jasper’s expression is hard with judgement.
Feck him.
None of them has the order of service from their cousin’s funeral sitting on their desk at home. None of them has wondered if the choice she made was the right one, the unselfish one.
Every day, that option weighs a little heavier on my mind…
But it won’t be necessary. One more layer after this. Just one.
Yanking myself out of Dakari’s grip is impossible. He must’ve joined Lambert’s insane workouts or something. So I meet his gaze, suck in a breath, and summon every ounce of civility.
“Fine. Let’s do this. Now, would you kindly let me go?”
Dakari releases me like he’s making a point, then jabs his finger in the direction of the table where all four of their grimoires are spread out.
Pierce and Benny are watching us with guarded expressions, but they step forward as I peel my shirt over my head with no care for the way the latter’s eyebrows rise. Yeah, the glowing red mark covering my chest is pretty bad.
At least it’s not pulsing. That’s the final warning sign that it’s about to trigger, but even then, I won’t know exactly how long I have left. My grandfather’s runeform pulsed for two days, but my father’s apparently only did so for two minutes.
“If you feck with this,” I mutter as I pass Dakari. “She’s what I’ll miss most.”
A muscle in his jaw ticks.
To my retreating back, he says, “I never gave enough of a shit about you to bother making your life more miserable than it already is.”
Fair enough. I can believe that at least.
“This is really remarkable,” Benny says, peering at me like a science experiment. “I’ve never seen such a good example of degeneration, and to do it not once, but four times…”
“Yeah, well. Get rid of it, and I’ll give you a copy as a souvenir,” I grouse.
“Gladly,” he shoves back his sleeves. “Never did approve of generational ensorcellments. Should’ve been banned long ago.”
“You were a parriarch. You could’ve made that happen.” I drop into the seat beside the table.
“I was parriarch for a smattering of years, and my time was rather consumed by other affairs.” Benny picks up his grimoire. “Now, is everyone ready?”
“Aye.” Jasper double-checks the paper on the table with a thoroughness I can appreciate.
Pierce and Dakari simply move into position. Four hands settle on my chest. Four different incantations strum into the air.
The sting of magic burrowing under my skin, igniting against my ribs like rocket fuel, is somehow worse than last time.
Feck. No part of me wants to pass out around these men, but my thoughts are scrambled and stodgy.
I bite the inside of my cheek, and my tongue is quickly coated in the coppery taste of my own blood.
The taste is still there when I claw myself out of the blackness.
My fingers are tingling so badly that I have to flex my hands several times for the sensation to dissipate.
I don’t know how long it’s been. Long enough for Pierce’s grandfather to disappear, and the others to stare at me like I’m an alien.
Feck. That doesn’t bode well.
The table to my right is taken up by a massive sheet of paper that’s currently folding itself away, stealing the lines of ink from view… My head is foggy, so maybe that’s why I don’t put two and two together.
“It worked,” Jasper mutters.
Relief crushes me. The second layer is the generational aspect. Even if we get this far with the rest of my family, we can free so many children from being caught in this nightmare. It can be eradicated within a generation.
But it won’t save me. Save her.
I look down…and freeze.
“No way.”
The third layer is the trigger. The final part. One runeform. One simple fecking runeform.
My hands ball into fists. While this might be one glyph, the frantic lines of it are anything but simple.
Why can nothing ever go right?
How is anyone supposed to fix this?
My eyes burn, and my head falls back. “If I asked you to kill me, would you do it?”
“The fuck?” Jasper demands.
“In a heartbeat,” Pierce answers at the same time.
I wasn’t talking to either of them.
Dakari’s black glower turns deadly. “You asshole.”
“Yeah. I get it. I’m just another selfish ó Rinn bastard. Spare me the lecture. Would you do it?”
He can’t answer me.
I’ll take that as a maybe. At least I have a last resort, even if I suspect he’d make it hurt.
“Kyrith’s already working on it. Give her a week.” Jasper even sounds sympathetic.
A week? He thinks this can be solved in a week?
“I might not have that long.”
“And you think Mathias will sort this for you?” Pierce gestures at the runeform that covers my entire upper body. “You think he knows more than she does?”
“Your sister swore he was good.”
He’s my only chance now.
My eyes trace the circles and lines. Maybe it’s my pessimism talking, but I swear I’ve never seen a runeform this complex.
It’s just one. No obvious degeneration, unlike the last, but it covers so much of my skin.
In places the lines and rings are so thick that it’s almost impossible to make out the patterns at all.
And it’s glowing like a small sun. No number of thick jumpers is going to hide this.
I’ll need to waste time on perfecting an illusion to do the job.
“My sister is a born liar,” Pierce reminds me. “Everything that comes out of her mouth is suspect. You can’t trust her.”
“I don’t have any other options!” I snarl back, snatching up my shirt and ignoring the wobble in my knees as I head towards a wall at random. “Now, I’m no longer welcome, so I’d like to leave.”
I spit the last, and in answer a black door springs into being on my left.
“You’re going to go without talking to Lambert?” Jasper prods. “He’s recovering well from his injuries, but he still can’t figure out why you never told him you were his brother.”
My knuckles hesitate an inch from the wood.
“Why do you care?”
“Because you’re breaking our girl’s heart,” Dakari grumbles. “And fucking over the one person who never gave a shit about your curse.”
“And being a complete dick in the process,” Jasper adds.
Do they really think I want to do any of those things? If I had Kyrith’s heart—which thankfully I don’t, given how easily she tossed me out of here—why would I ever want to break it?
No. If Kyrith loved me, I’d be the luckiest man alive. I’d do anything to keep her. Even murder.
My observations of Dakari tell me he thinks the same.
Pierce rolls his eyes. “If you go to that dinner, you’re handing Mathias exactly what he wants.”
“I don’t intend to hand him anything.”
“You’re bound to the Arcanaeum,” Dakari reminds me. “You don’t know what he can do with that.”
“I’ll be careful, but I’d rather break her heart than lose her.” Then, like a coward, I knock. “ó Rinn Manor.”
I don’t want to endure the old man, but I’m not strong enough to be alone in my present state of mind.