Page 103 of Librarian

They turn left, marching him away from us, through a glass door on the opposite end of the hallway.

I’m following them before I know what I’m doing.

“Pierce,” Leo hisses.

The concrete courtyard beyond the door is loud and horrifyingly familiar. Black and blue uniformed arcanists are packed into the space. There are too many of them. I can’t see my grandfather.

Then I look up.

In the middle of the yard, on a stone scaffold that looks like it belongs in the Middle Ages, stands my mother. Her suit is immaculate, her expression serene as she waits for her goons to drag my grandfather up the steps and chain his shackled feet to the iron ring in front of her.

I can’t hear what they’re saying from here. I don’t need to. The cruel tilt of her mouth tells me it’s nothing good.

Stars, it’s exactly like my father’s execution, except for one thing.

Back then, Anthea and I were in the front row. Made to watch. Now Mathias holds that place of honour. Even if I didn’t recognise him from behind, the wide berth everyone else is giving him is a dead giveaway.

“This is the first,” Mother announces, looking over the arcanists crammed into the yard. “But we will not rest until every necromancer is dealt with in the same way, and our families are safe from this corruption!”

My hand slips into my grimoire. I step forward, slipping between spectators. I can disarm her. Maybe even kill her. As for Mathias, maybe Lambert and Leo can distract him long enough?—

Above me, Benny looks tiredly over the crowd, catches sight of me, and stills.

There’s an incremental shake of his head. A jerk of his chin.

I freeze in place. I’m ten feet away.

I can’t move. Some invisible hand has grabbed all of my limbs and locked them down.

What the—? No!

I recognise an ensorcellment when I’m in the grip of one, but before I can counter it, they’ve taken control of my hand, slipping my fingers away from the pages of my grimoire.

I strain against the spell, but my legs are already twisting.

If I had the space to think past the blind desperation shredding my lungs, I might find it ironic that it’s the very spell I used against North all those months ago.

I manage to resist just long enough to see my grandfather’s head drop in defeat, then I’m forced around. Turning my back on him, even though it’s the last thing I want to do.

The glowing golden light that erupts from the scaffold reflects off the faces of everyone around me. Their cheers are deafening. Their voices ring in my ears as I’m forced away.

My own screams are silent. Caged.

“I’m sorry,” Blanche says, as I come to a halt beside her and the ashen-faced brothers. “But it’s what he wanted.”

My jaw works, but I’m mute as she uses her grimoire to force me to take step after step away from my grandfather. She’spreventing me from making a scene. I know that. I’d do the same in her shoes.

Her spell means I can’t even brush away the humiliating tears soaking into my mask. Fortunately, we don’t pass anyone else. They must’ve scattered, or maybe they’re all watching my mother make speeches over Benny’s corpse.

Blanche doesn’t release me until she has led us out of a side entrance and across the street.

“I’ll kill you for this,” I swear, as she drops the silencing spell.

The words are heated, but I don’t grab for my grimoire, so I must not really mean them. I should kill her. If not for her, I could’ve done something. I could’ve distracted them. He could’ve used that and escaped.

With no grimoire and all of those aegis agents everywhere?The rational voice in the back of my brain is as unwelcome as it is correct.

We walked into the building with the odds stacked against us. It was always possible that we’d fail.