Page 208 of Librarian

At the same time Jasper says, “Told you she wouldnae be happy about that candle.”

“Or borrowing those grimoires from the Vault,” Eddy adds.

“Or being down here in the first place,” North says. “That’s a banishable offence.”

“If you’d all shut your fecking pie holes for one second,” Leo grouches. “We could ask her how she’s doing.”

I stare at all of them, sighing. “Lonely,” I finally answer. “But…better.”

It’s true. Now that the influx of magic has mostly passed, spreading out into the wider Library, I feel stronger than I did.

“We need to cast it again,” Pierce surmises. “Probably several more times.”

“Now?” Lambert asks, eyes bouncing to the altar and back again.

“She literally just said she needed a break, idiot.” North rolls his eyes, even though he was the only one to hear me earlier. “And you haven’t even finished your potion yet.”

“It doesnae hurt you, right?” Jasper presses, staring in roughly my direction. “Because?—”

“It’s…a lot,” I admit. “But it’s not painful.”

It’s a little white lie, but I’m too grateful to be able to speak with them again to care.

“We go down to three chants,” Leo surmises. “Less but more often? Daily, maybe?”

“You can’t just keep downing restoration potions, or you’ll end up with organ damage,” I scold. “You need to rest and regenerate your magic naturally.”

I can’t justify them harming themselves in the name of bringing me back.

“I didnae catch all of that,” Jasper admits. “But dinnae worry. I’m not in any rush to end up with failing organs again.”

The silence that descends makes me sigh.

“Hey, boss.” Lambert grins. “Missed your voice.”

My answering snort is half-wistful, half-bemused. “You haven’t heard what I have to say about the dog buttons yet.”

The chuckles and smirks from the others melt me, and I can’t help reaching for Lambert, pulling him into a hug.

He stiffens, then shudders. “Magic, that’s cold…Don’t stop.”

I manageto talk them down from daily infusions. We settle on twice a week as a compromise. It takes three more attempts for my outline to grow visible again. The moment they can see me, they start to walk a little lighter. They smile more easily.

Hope, that fragile, cursed emotion, starts radiating from them.

There is one downside…They can see my reaction to the spell.

To say they’re unhappy is an understatement.

I not only have to apologise—an ordeal that ends with Leo and North threatening to take turns spanking me when I regain my body—but also convince them to try again. It’s worth it. The fifth casting gives me enough magic to lift and hold things like I used to, albeit with less control. The sixth does nothing beyond replenishing the building’s reserves, neither does the seventh, nor the eighth.

We still haven’t reached that critical mass. The tipping point at which the well will begin to refill by itself. Realistically, I know that we need to hit that milestone, if only to stop me being dependent on their infusions of energy, but it’s taxing to face disappointment over and over again.

Part of me wants to just return to work, to make do with what I have. They’ve appointed volunteers to take care of things in my place—over twenty young arcanists, each carefully vetted and approved by me—and restricted opening hours to compensate for my absence.

I itch to take over. Every time one of the volunteers does something wrong or performs one of my favourite tasks, it killsme a little. But returning in my current state would waste the power my men have already given me. It’s counterintuitive to empty the Arcanaeum’s well, even a small amount, when we’re doing all of these rituals to refill it.

That’s why we collectively decide on a ninth infusion.