Page 146 of Librarian

North rolls his eyes, holding his hand out for it back. “Told you so.”

Pierce’s grimoire is thicker. It’s only natural it will take longer. My nerves are strung tighter than piano wires while I wait for the woman investigating it to finish. I barely breathe as she holds it out to him.

Clear.

Michael snatches it before Pierce can, flicking through. My heartbeat stutters.

“Strange that someone whose grandfather, father, and sister were all found guilty of practising dark magic would be innocent of it,” the older man muses.

“I find it stranger that someone whose father, husband, and daughter were found guilty has never been investigated,” Pierce retorts. “But then, we all know the laws don’t apply to my mother because she pays you, right?”

Michael’s jaw clenches, the scar at his temple catching the light as he steps forward.

“Your mother saved me when your necromancer father cast the spell that would’ve killed me. I owe her my life.” He thrusts the book into Pierce’s chest with a dull thud. “I’ll take my leave, but the moment any of you step foot outside of this building, the aegis is bringing you in for questioning.” He glances at Dakari and Leo, and then at the others. “It’s a reckless leader who chooses civil war over dialogue.”

There’s no getting through to him, so I keep my mouth shut, intending to let him go and be done with it. Leo, however, steps in front of him when he tries to leave.

“Get out of my way,” Michael says. “Or I’ll have you arrested as well.”

“You can’t arrest me, you eejit.” Galileo has always had a kind of quiet menace, and now it’s seeping from his every pore. “But as your parriarch, I can fecking destroy you, and no one will say a word. The only reason I haven’t is because the Librarian asked us to keep this peaceful.”

“I’m doing my duty. The same can’t be said for you. You’re choosing her over your own family.” Michael glances over his shoulder at Artemius. “You can’t seriously believe he’s fit to be parriarch.”

The old man rolls his eyes and struggles to his feet. “Not. My. Problem. I’m off to enjoy my retirement.”

Olivia pins Michael with a glare as she helps Artemius up, then says, “The Librariansavedour family from the curse. You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as her.”

She grabs the retired parriarch’s arm and helps him towards the nearest door. As if the old man’s exit is the cue everyone else has been waiting for, the soldiers back away, leaving with disgruntled looks over their shoulders. Once they’re gone, the professors follow, chattering about what they’ve just witnessed.

Hopkinson lingers, and I offer him a tired smile. “I appreciate what you did.”

I’m not sure Michael would’ve behaved half as well without witnesses. A few insults are nothing compared to how badly I was prepared for that meeting to go.

I anticipated spells being thrown, grimoires flying open. They brought enough agents that the resulting damage to the Arcanaeum would’ve been severe. I don’t want more death and destruction in this building.

“Think nothing of it.” He waves me off. “A little rebellion is good for the soul, after all. I’m just glad we could get that all cleared up. As for classes, is there anything we can do to help restore the Arcanaeum? I have a few students looking to specialise in transmutation next year who would love the practice.”

My heart melts, and I nod. “That would be very much appreciated, Magister. Thank you.”

“No. Thankyou.” Hopkinson’s eyes grow a little shinier. “Teaching is my life. When they announced that liminals were suspended…I’ve not had a reason to leave my house for two weeks now.”

Lambert is there before I can say anything else, wrapping an arm around the older man and giving him a huge grin. “Hey, have you heard of the Men-Tal Health coffee mornings, Magister? I was thinking we could run them here from now on, before class. It would be awesome to have some teachers coming, too.”

I don’t hear Hopkinson’s reply because the others are gathering around me.

“That went better than I expected,” North grumbles. “You didn’t even need to kick them out.”

Eddy’s invisibility spell drops, and she lays down the anti-gravity bombs I armed her with, sighing as she leans over the balcony of the Gallery above. “I’m almost disappointed. I wanted to see their faces when we put them on their asses.”

I hum under my breath, not commenting. I fear the time for such measures is closer than she thinks.

“Mathias won’t be happy that we made such a public spectacle of your innocence,” I tell them, my eyes landing on Pierce.

“Isidora’s rotting corpse will undoubtedly appear to make a pretty speech denouncing what we just did.” Halinor leans heavily against the desk. “The six families have never publicly broken like this?—”

“They have,” I correct. “But it’s usually individual feuds. Talcott against Carlton, or Ackland against McKinley. Enforcement has never been weaponized before. It’s not their job to get involved in politics. They’re supposed to protect against necromancy.”

But Mathias and Isidora have created a culture where necromancers are around every corner, and every liminal is at risk of becoming one at any moment. In doing so, they’ve convinced enough of their own people that the threat necessitates radical action, allowing them to expand the scope of the agency with minimal opposition.