Page 201 of Librarian

Between us, the candle flickers wildly. Pierce’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t stop chanting.

Then the flame starts to die, becoming smaller and smaller…

But it doesn’t go out.

The chant ends, and Pierce draws his hand back from the candle with a sigh. The flame returns to cheerful brightness.

“What?” Lambert presses.

“Not good, right?” Jasper says. “When you were casting, I could almost feel how low on power the Arcanaeum is.”

Not surprising. Necromancy and restoration are two sides of the same coin, after all.

“We fixed it for nothing.” North slips from his stool and marches towards the stairs.

“Sit your arse down,” I growl at him. “Pierce. Explain.”

“The Arcanaeum is a massive repository of magic.” The Carlton heir rubs the back of his neck with a sigh. “The flame was a measure of how much power it currently holds. At full strength, it should’ve gotten brighter. We’ve done a lot, but it’s still too low.”

“It lost all of its magic transferring its magical well to Kyrith,” Dakari notes.

“Aye.” Jasper strokes his beard, which has grown longer since she left. “We’re powerful, but it took days of us feeding her our magic to bring her around when we broke her out.”

Even then, she wasn’t at full power, just conscious. Did she ever manage to fully recharge her magical well while she and the building were separated? Or did she simply function on a fraction of her potential because it was enough?

Pierce nods. “Eventually, I guess the Arcanaeummightbe able to regenerate its magic like we would, but it would take years, if not decades, to reach the critical mass she talked about.”

“So we need to recharge it.” I stand. “I assume you’re not suggesting the traditional method.”

I want Kyrith back, but she’d skin the lot of us if we started sacrificing liminals.

“No.” Pierce swallows. “But you’re thinking along the right lines. The risk is…if we do it and Kyrith is already lost, we’ll have bonded ourselves deeper to the building for nothing.”

All of us fall into silence. Personally, I’ll let them sacrifice me the old-fashioned way if it will let me be with her. Fuck leaving the Library. I’ve spent a lifetime refusing to care about anything beyond these walls anyway. Can I say the same for Lambert, who’d have to give up magiball? Or Jasper, who has a family? Or North, who’d have to watch his sister come and go until she aged and died?

“Boss,” Lambert starts, looking at the ceiling like we all used to when we thought she and the Library were the same. “We could really do with a sign, or a note, or something? If you’re still there?”

“She has no power,” I remind him. “There’s no way for?—”

The candle in the middle of the table goes out.

My heart jumps in my chest. Please. Please, sweet merciful stars, let that be her.

“Could’ve been the wind,” North begins slowly.

I get it. He’s scared to hope. So am I. But I’m more terrified of a life without Kyrith. “We’reinside, eejit.”

“Coincidence, then.”

One of Pierce’s notebooks flies up and smacks North in the face, then drops heavily to the countertop.

Stars. My lungs burn as I struggle to remember how to breathe.

She’s still here. There’s still a chance.

Jasper bursts out laughing, the sound bright with relief and more than a little grief. “Your coincidence just hit you in the face, asshole.”

“Boss,” Lambert breathes the word, eyes shining.