Page 21 of Alchemy of Souls

“You’re welcome,” I breathe.

“Go sit on a tack,” she whispers.

And now I do laugh, which earns me a stern look from one of the librarians.

Like the rest of the University, the library defies symmetry. Trunks act as pillars in the center of the room, some of which are carved out to create reading nooks with pillows. Round, tiered balconies line the walls that rise a good fifty feet toward a domed ceiling.

Eloise is already casting a spell on the reference index, whosepages flip in an unseen wind, stopping on titles related to the Archive Key. I follow her up two sets of twisty stairs to a little alcove balcony.

There are two armchairs and I plop down while I wait for her to collect not one but two armfuls of books. Only when she’s done, she doesn’t carry them to the front desk to check them out. She sits down in the other armchair, tucking her legs underneath her and cracking open a spine.

“You’re not seriously reading right now,” I say, a little stunned.

“Shut up, please, we’re in a library,” she replies without looking at me.

I throw my hands up in frustration and craft a fast noise-canceling bubble that surrounds our little balcony. “Happy?”

Her eyes lift briefly to observe my spell and she returns to her page.

“You can read those later,” I say. “You’re wasting time.”

Nothing but silence.

I run my hand down my face. It takes every ounce of self-control not to lift her up and carry her out of here.

“Those books will tell you nothing,” I say bluntly.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. I’vereadthem,” I reply, and the surprised look on her face is a little satisfying.

“Bull,” she says.

“My uncle has these and more in his personal library. And I’m telling you right now thatMerigold’s Compendium on Historic MagicandAshanti’s Guide to Veiled Doorsaren’t going to tell you more than you already know. Which is a whole lotta nothing.”

She looks suspiciously at her stack like I’m trying to trick her.

“The magic that created the Archive door wasn’t ever written down, and the people who have successfully called the Key wereextremely cryptic,” I continue. “And while you sit in this library with your nose in a book, we could be doing something infinitely more useful, like trying to re-create your spell.”

“Maybe you’ve read these things, but I haven’t,” she says, doubling down. “But by all means, don’t let me stop you.” She makes a little shooing motion with her hand. “Run along.”

My jaw tics. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Her lioness eyes promise murder and her grip tightens on her book. “I’mnotLawless,” she fires back with so much conviction that now I’m the one who’s startled. “I haveeverythingto gain by calling that Key. You do not need to follow me around like I’m some criminal!”

“Hold on. Who’s doing what now?” I say with genuine confusion.

She makes a sound that can only be described as a kitten growl. “There’sno other reasonfor you to trail my every move except that you think I’ll call the Key when you’re not around and make a run for it.”

She’s right and yet she’s so very wrong. Iamworried she’ll call the Key, but not that she’ll run—I’m worried she’ll give it to my uncle. Besides, the one thing I know with absolute certainty is that she’snotLawless.

But I can’t say this. So instead, I say, “Half an hour,” as a compromise. “Then we’re leaving.”

She does not, however, see it that way. “Like hell we are.”

Stubborn.

I smile at her. She glares at me. And when the clock hits 6:00 p.m., I tell her it’s time to go. “You had your turn. Now it’s mine.”