Page 206 of Librarian

“So we made a mistake somewhere.” Pierce is already prowling towards the papers, staring down at them. “Any chance of a hint?”

I tug at my sleeve as I debate how much help I can give them.

I’m clearly passing out for unknown periods of time every time I overextend myself. I need to be strategic.

Is it better to spend the energy now and speed up their work, or let them figure it out and save the time lost to unconsciousness?

Pressing the buttons requires more force than moving paper, I reason.

Drawing the tiniest fragment of energy, I lift the edge of the sheet where they misaligned the two runeforms. If they sort that, they’ll figure out the incantation.

Pierce snatches it up from the floor, frowning, but his next words are murky as I fight just to stay in place. Did I misjudge it? I thought I was fine.

“You take the runeform. I’ll take the incantation,” Leo tells the Carlton heir. “Jasper?—”

“On it.”

I drop to the floor as they head back to the island, the bar stools scraping across the floor loudly. When the darkness finally abates from the edges of my vision, I shift to the sofa, lying across Lambert’s lap.

There’s no way I have the power to press another button, even if they miraculously spot their mistake tomorrow. So, I let myself lie there and recover, pretending I can feel the warmth of him beneath my head.

“I miss you all so much,” I whisper.

More days pass.It takes two just for them to find the issue and fix it, and a further three for me to triple check their work and then summon the power to approve it.

Now, as I watch them all descend on the Vault, I can’t keep still.

This might not work. In fact, it likely won’t.

Even Leo admitted that this would be the first of several ‘donations’. At best, this one might give me the ability to move things like my predecessors used to. It’s probably too much to hope that it might make me visible.

The Arcanaeum’s well of power is vast. It’ll take more than one infusion of magic from the six of them to fill it.

But if this goes well, then over the next few weeks, it might reach that all important tipping point that allows it to regenerate by itself. Once that happens…this won’t be necessary.

I just want to talk to them again. I just want them to see me when I kiss them goodnight.

I’d give anything for that much.

I’m even silently urging them to hurry up as they rest their grimoires on the same holders that were used in my sacrifice five hundred years prior.

“Last chance to back out,” I whisper, because none of them have so much as hinted at it.

If someone wanted me to try an experimental runeform that was built from forbidden magic by young mages barely out of university, I’d have at least questioned it. Apparently, my bonded have no such qualms.

I’m going to have to make all of them fake grimoires after this. They might’ve merged necromancy with restoration, but enforcement won’t know or care for the difference. With Leo’s reforms, they’ll all end up executed if they’re not careful.

The irony of him creating laws to unveil necromancers, and then secretly becoming one as a result of this crazy plan, isn’t lost on me. The key difference, in my mind at least, is that no one has to die for this spell to be cast.

I hope.

Magic. Please don’t let them die.

Eddy lingers on the edge of the room, her hands full of restorative potions.

“We chant the incantation five times,” Dakari reminds them. “No more. Then we can see how badly it drains us and adjust when we try again.”

“Kyrie, you need to get into place,” Leo says, looking uncomfortable. “I’m sorry.”