Page 1 of Librarian

Part One

Hiraeth

(n.)Welsh. Deep longing for a person or thing which is absent or lost; yearning; nostalgia; specifically, homesickness.

One

Dakari

Iflatten myself against a painting of a long-dead Carlton magister, holding my breath as a pair of maids hurry past, carrying large empty boxes.

“Can you believe it?” one asks.

The older woman shakes her head. “Shh, not so loud.”

“But Miss Anthea isn’t even properly sentenced yet and?—”

“The parriarch wants her room cleared. That’s all there is to it.”

“Still. Her own daughter!”

“It’s not our place.” Her voice drops even lower. “Besides, are you really surprised?”

“Figures such a royal bitch would be a necromancer.”

Their voices fade as they turn the corner. I wait two more seconds before I dare to peel myself away from the wall. If I hadn’t cast that invisibility spell when I pretended to leave that disastrous dinner, they would’ve caught me.

Anthea’s fate sits like a stone in my gut. She’s always been a pain in the ass, but murdering my uncle using dark magic? That’s a bold move.

Anthea was terrified. She fled rather than trying to fight the enforcers. And those wounds on her back…

It doesn’t add up.

Isidora wasn’t even ruffled by the accusations levelled at her daughter. She was practically preening as she took control of the situation.

I’m beginning to think maybe we should’ve asked Pierce for more information about their relationship with their mother.

After I left, I followed Leo and Mathias, but they left using a heavily warded portal, and I lost them.

Leo is on his own with the lich, which means he’s as good as handing Mathias a key to the Arcanaeum.

I want to leave him to it. The asshole made his bed, and if it wouldn’t put Kyrith in danger, I’d happily let him lie in it.

No one with a working brain would believe Mathias intends to break his ensorcellment. Unfortunately, Leo isn’t thinking rationally. Ó Rinns are as tragic as they are predictable. They do all sorts of weird shit to avoid their fate, but I never thought he’d stoop this low.

He’d better have a plan, because I can’t help him now.

If anything happens to our girl because of him…

No. I can’t do anything for him or Anthea. I need to focus on what Kyrith asked me to do—finding her grimoire—and get out of here.

Anthea might know where it is.

It’s a stupid thought. If the book is as useless as Kyrith claimed, then it’s probably in an attic somewhere.

But my other options are searching all one hundred rooms in this palatial crypt the Carltons call home or trying to break through Mathias’s portal.

Anthea it is then.