Page 132 of Librarian

I’m not sure hecanmake another. He only has one soul, after all. But I understand her point. He’ll be vulnerable.

“I have an idea for that,” I venture. “And you’re not going to like it.”

“I haven’t liked anything you’ve said since we came down here,” Pierce mutters. “But by all means, do carry on…”

“We pretend the Arcanaeum is breaking.”

Dakari smiles, and it’s a chilling, predatory thing. “And let the arrogant son of a bitch come to us.”

Thirty-Seven

Pierce

My steps are slower than the others’ as they head away from the Vault and back towards the Clock Tower. Kyrith is still tucked under Jasper’s arm, where she’s been since he so easily told her he’d stay locked up here forever with her.

How wonderful it must be to be able to completely ignore all of your responsibilities in the name of love and know that your family won’t fall into ruin without you. A hundred lifetimes locked in the Library with the rest of them would be peaceful compared to what I’ll have to deal with once I ascend to the parriarchy.

Unfortunately, my strongest cousins are necromancers. If I pass over the position, one of them will take it. Then we’ll be right back where we started.

Does it need to be my problem, though?a quiet, tired voice in the back of my mind asks.Why do I have to be the one to restore Carlton to what it once was?

Because my grandfather cared. Because I’m still trying to make up for the horrors my mother has inflicted on the world, for the deaths I’ve caused, for the souls I’ve funnelled into spells.

Lambert looked ready to throw up at the very idea of murdering someone. What would he say—how would he look at me—if he knew how many lives I’ve helped extinguish in the name of power? In the name of survival?

I stare down Botanical Hall for several long minutes before I realise I’ve lost sight of everyone else. Shaking off my maudlin thoughts, I abandon all pretence of following them and head right, up the spiral stairs and into the Shrouded Hall. There was a piano there before Mathias took over. The Arcanaeum created it for me when I asked. Music always makes for a good distraction.

Yet, predictably, when I get to the top, there’s no instrument waiting beneath the immense stained-glass window.

Mathias doesn’t care for music. It must’ve been one of the first things he destroyed.

Kyrith has managed to replace all the windows in the building, but the shelves here are still utilitarian metal. It was a stretch to believe she’d replace the piano as well.

I’m not talented at transmutation. I can’t fix this part of the Arcanaeum for her. Besides, it plays to her plan to leave areas like this, even if I hate it.

A plaintive mewl breaks the silence. The cat is attacking one of its toys on the floor a few feet away. Every now and again, it stops, drops the feathered mouse, and then stares at it.

But instead of wiggling along the floor on an invisible string, the mouse stays still.

I guess Kyrith’s not the only one missing the Library. The little fiend has lost his invisible playmate.

With a sigh, I reach into my grimoire and aim a fine stream of magic in the toy’s direction. It rises into the air, then takesoff, dashing across the hall. The cat chases after it—only to run straight into the leg of a nearby desk.

Damn. If the thing wasn’t brain damaged before, it probably is now. This is why I don’t have a pet.

It must not be too badly injured, because it scarpers away before I can check on it.

Mouth twisting, I meander onto the Gallery just so I can look at something else. This morning, we all restored this part of the Library for her while she worked in the tower with Leo. Now I lean over the cool marble of the balustrade and fix my eyes on her desk.

It’s exactly as it was. The trapdoor to the Vault is hidden beneath a thick wine-coloured rug, and the cat toys have been put back. Here, I can pretend the last month didn’t happen. My grandfather could walk down the hall at any second, wearing some ridiculous outfit.

My chest pangs so hard that I have to turn my face away from the pain of it.

No. No such delusion can persist when the loss of him is still so raw.

My eyes fix on a bare patch of floor beside me. I swear there was a rug there before. Sighing, I draw my grimoire out and lay it on the wide banister as I flick through, searching for the right spell to conjure one.

“You shouldn’t be alone.”