Page 185 of Librarian

The door slams behind her, shimmering slightly as the wards activate. They won’t stop Mathias tracking the thing, but maybe they can buy her some time.

I glance at the door that Anthea disappeared behind, then at the other three that connect to this hall. That’s three different directions they can come at us from, and only one of me.

With a silent apology to the building, I use some of what little magic I have left to conjure a handful of deadbolts on each.They’re pathetic, but I dinnae have the power to do anything bigger. What I do have needs to be rationed.

Thankfully, the revenants don’t exactly have magic either. They’re just freakishly strong.

“Hurry up,” I yell. I can already hear the shuffling footsteps coming from the hall beyond.

No response. Either she’s too focused to hear me or the room is warded for sound as well.

The creatures chasing after us hit the door to my left in a wave of deafening thumps. The knob rattles, and the wood creaks.

The door to my right bows inward as they reach that one too. We’re already surrounded.

Those locks aren’t going to hold them for long. Fuck.

My brain is racing, but all my ideas are useless. I’ve got to think like an inept, but short of conjuring a shotgun?—

Wait.

I’m no marksman, but I’m not bad with a sword.

I conjure a sabre, grimacing at the burn in my chest that warns me I’m running on empty, then tuck my grimoire back into its holster. I dinnae have enough magic to keep it hovering next to me anyway.

The first lock splinters in minutes, and three of them spill in from the direction of Conjurer’s Hall. I cut one down, the tip of my sword striking into its heart.

It doesnae try to dodge, or even flinch in pain, just keeps shambling towards me.

Fuck.

I give it another shot, my next thrust landing in the eye of the old man to my right.

Blood spurts, and he collapses.

Okay. Aim for the head.

The other door groans as it’s forced open. They’re everywhere.

The tremor hits without warning. Fuck. Has Dakari struck up another quake? He can’t have. We have no power. The rocking of the building sends the revenants stumbling closer. Shit.

My hand falls on the office door handle behind me. Anthea might not like it, but she’s about to have company. I’d rather watch some dark magic than get turned into zombie food.

She didn’t lock it, so I burst into the room, slamming the door in the face of the hoard and bracing my shoulder against it.

I wait for her to curse me out for interrupting. It doesnae happen. I scan the tiny room, tense. Did she run off with the phylactery?

Kyrith’s office is empty except for a pile of red shimmering dust on top of her paperwork-covered desk.

A blackened hand rests on the floor just beyond, the arm disappearing behind the drawers. I crane my neck, wincing when I catch sight of the rest of Anthea’s charred body. She’s unrecognisable. All of her blonde hair and makeup have burned away. I cannae check her pulse without letting in the undead, but her chest isn’t moving.

Dead.

Another quake hits. I curse. It’s not Dakari. She destroyed the phylactery, Mathias knows, and now he’s pissed.

A smidgen of guilt hits me at the loss of Anthea. Aye, she was a necromancer, and a wee bit of a cunt, but she was still Pierce’s sister. I promised to keep an eye on her.

On top of the pile of red sand is a glowing triangle of metal. The dagger tip.