Page 142 of Librarian

“You’re here because I felt you were owed an explanation. You are free to leave any time you wish.” I stand a little taller. “There will be time for questions at the end, but right now it will be more beneficial if you listen to what Parriarchs McKinley, Talcott, and Ó Rinn have to say.”

Dakari stops leaning against the desk, and several of our audience shuffle back to give him even more room. Their reaction is almost comical, but I can’t deny it helps our cause. The aura of hostility that lurks around him is out in full force today. Fear isn’t respect, but in this instance, it’ll do.

Unfortunately, it has the opposite effect on me. I find myself rubbing my thighs together before I realise what I’m doing.

He looks left to Halinor and then right to Artemius, then states, “Mathias Ackland is a necromancer, and so was Isidora Carlton until he murdered her and turned her into his reanimated puppet last week.”

“Subtle,” North mutters.

His dry comment is lost in the outrage that follows. The uproar is as predictable as it is annoying. I sigh and cast the silencing scrap I prepared for just this reason, then gesture for the parriarchs to continue.

“My nephew was held captive by Isidora and Mathias for ten years,” Halinor says. “And if you won’t listen to his testimony, or ours, perhaps you’ll believe the Librarian.”

My gut flips, but I hold my head high as all eyes fall on me.

I drop the silencing spell, reach underneath the desk, and pull out a book. “Those who need proof can consult this. It’s volume two of the history of the University of Arcane Arts. Mathias’s portrait from 1470 and a list of his contributions are written on page ten.”

A professor on my left scoffs. “That’s one book. Besides, family names and a resemblance to an ancestor aren’t proof.”

A fair point. I would criticise such a small pool of evidence myself. So I pull out Mathias’s autobiography and several others in which he’s mentioned. The pile grows taller and taller. I loathed having these volumes in the Arcanaeum, but at least they’re finally becoming useful.

“I have served you faithfully for centuries,” I remind them. “I knew him then. I promise you that he is the very same Magister Ackland mentioned inallof these books. You know I’ve always operated outside of the parriarchy and their politics. Why would I lie?”

“Why do you suddenly feel the need to start interfering now?” someone counters from the back of the room.

“Isidora and Mathias have been working to sow division between arcanists. You’re educated people. You must’ve noticed the manipulated statistics they used to kick liminals out of the university.” Several of them nod. “You all saw what Mathias did when he seized control of the Arcanaeum. He will continue attacking this institution and any other that disagrees with him. Thus, we have a proposal.”

I mumble another spell under my breath, laying my hand on my grimoire briefly. Dozens of bundles of papers fly from beneath my desk, passing themselves around in a neat, orderly fashion.

Some start reading straight away; others merely skim the precis on the front.

“You want to make a rival university?” Hopkinson’s brows rise.

“No. I’m merely offering to host those educators and students who were affected by Isidora’s discriminatory ban on liminals.” I have to hold my hands up for silenceagain. “It is the role of the Arcanaeum to ensure education is available toall. If you wish to continue to hold your classes here, then I will facilitate that.”

Goodberry opens his mouth, and I sigh.

“Yes, Professor, thatincludesdestruction classes, so long as they remain contained to the designated safe practice area I have chosen.”

Did I have time to make those changes to the western garden? Not really. But I knew he would ask, and I didn’t have it in me to deal with himagain.

Choosing my battles is not the same as capitulation. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

“You’re dividing arcandom,” Magister James Winthrop, one of my regular patrons, objects. “Creating a second campus with access to better resources than the adept students who remain at UAA receive. It’s a two-tier system.”

“If you read the booklet,” I begin, silently praying for patience. “You’ll see that these classes are open to all arcanists. I’m doing this topreventa two-tier system where liminals are denied the same education as their adept peers.”

“As for dividing society,” Artemius grouches. “Don’t you think having a murderous necromancer in charge might be a wee bit divisive, James? That Ackland bastard tried to murder me. He killed Georgina Winthrop and Abe Talcott, and probably a good many others. Got anything to say about that?”

There’s a deadly pause where the other man’s face cycles through a dozen expressions before he drops his gaze.

Artemius scoffs. “Thought not. Read the damned thing before you ask any more eejit questions.”

“Anthea Carlton killed Abe Talcott,” someone else objects.

“We all know Anthea has never had an original thought in her life,” Halinor snaps back. “Her awful mother and Mathias have been orchestrating the deaths of anyone who might get in their way for months, if not years.”

“Remember Riley Carlton?” a woman on my left says, nodding sagely. “I always said Isidora framed him because she didn’t want the bad press that came with a divorce.”