Page 204 of Librarian

Without thinking, I move to brush one page aside so I can continue reading the incantation. It’s a tiny manipulation spell; the kind I used hundreds of times a day before they entered my life. My magic is slow, sluggish. The corner of the page barely lifts.

The damage is done anyway.

“Kyrith?” Pierce asks, eyes lasering in on the motion.

My vision is dimming again. Even if I could answer him, I’m too busy fighting the draw.

No. Not back to the Vault. I need to help—Damnit!

They could die.

That’s my first thought as I return to consciousness on the altar. Once again, the rise through the Vault and up into the Rotunda is painfully slow, and I have to pause when I reach my desk to regather my wits.

Trying to save me could kill them.

And I would live an eternity like this, mourning them without end.

I’d almost rather let things be.

Dakari is walking up Botanical Hall as I sit amongst the piles of flowers that haven’t abated in however long it's been since Leo’s speech. He looks tired. On edge. The few patrons still lingering at this late hour give him a wide berth as he strides between the reading tables.

“Do you all know?” I ask him. “Are you all in on this crazy plan of theirs?”

“Another one for your collection, baby girl,” he mutters, slipping a book from the inside of his jacket and adding it to a pile on my desk.

Exhaustion beats at me as I raise my head from my knees, trying to read the title.

“Shifters?” I smile, posture slouching. “Thank you, but you might have to turn the pages for me.”

Trapped in the Library yet unable to read has to be a new level of excruciating irony.

“It’s got some of your ‘art’ in it too,” he mumbles under his breath. “Don’t let Lambert see it, or he’ll get even more pushy about giving you that orgy for your birthday.”

My brows shoot into my hairline.

“Open the book?” I plead.

But he can’t hear me. His fingers tap dance over the black wolf on the cover instead.

“You better come back soon.” He sighs. “Leo insists on waiting for you to tell us you’ve read the plan, but honestly I’mhalf-convinced you’ve seen Lambert’s dog buttons and told him to go fuck himself.”

Dog buttons?

What in magic’s name…?

“If you don’t say something soon, I’m taking my grimoire and casting it by myself,” Dakari finishes. “I can’t take another month of this.”

I drag myself to my feet, floating up again with an imperceptible kiss on his cheek.

I’m too tired for this, but if Lambert has brought home a dog, I have to do something.

It turns out,there is no dog, but therearedozens of sheets of paper, carefully laid out in lines across the living room floor. Each page is littered with runeforms and notes. Someone has drawn arrows between them, establishing a clear reading order.

Below them, a dozen brightly coloured buttons with black paw prints have been neatly arranged. They’re obviously designed for some above-average-intelligence canine, but Lambert has repurposed them. For me.

“This is ridiculous,” I tell Westley, who rubs his body against my leg like he can actually see me, purring. “This idea of his is either genius or insulting, and he better hope I decide it’s the former.”

The buttons are splayed out like a modern Ouija board, each one labelled in thick black marker. They’ve provided me with a way to say: the alphabet, their names, yes, no, maybe, and fuck you—that one was probably North’s idea. I refuse to acknowledge the bright pink button labelled ‘good boy.’