Page 97 of Librarian

His grimoire glows as he presses a hand to the window. He breaks through the protective spells, then transmutes the glass into air before slipping silently inside.

Seconds later, there’s a loud thump, and when I peek over the sill, he’s standing over the unmoving revenant, blood coating him.

Oh. He crushed its skull.

That’s an efficient way of destroying the brainstem, I suppose. But there’s no way Mathias won’t notice the resulting gore. My stomach does a little flip, so I focus on the man slumped behind bars in the far corner of the room.

The exterior of the house might be quaint and old-fashioned, but the interior is brutally modern. At least the minimalism means there’s less in the way as I lean through the window, trying to get a better look at Jasper’s injuries.

A gleam on the desk catches my eye.

No. It can’t be.

It wouldn’t be that simple.

Would it?

Dakari takes a step toward the dagger.

“Don’t touch it!” I hiss.

If Mathias has left the heart of the Arcanaeumandhis phylactery on his desk, there’s absolutely no way they aren’t protected by the strongest magic the lich knows.

Why would he ever let them out of his sight?

I suppose if he took them to the execution, the risk of enforcement questioning his need to carry a blade would be too high. If any of them scanned it for dark magic, it would probably light up like a Christmas tree.

The knot of anxiety in my stomach untwists fractionally at the thought.

Pierce, Lambert, and Leo are safer for it being here, even if the opposite is undoubtedly true for us.

“Trap,” I mouth at Dakari.

Only a fool would think otherwise. Have we already sprung it?

His eyes harden. “Go.”

I glance at Jasper, then at the dagger, and shake my head.

Deep breath.

I can do this.

If Dakari was going to trigger something, he would’ve by now. Whatever the mechanism is, I can disarm it.

First, we have to be able to see what we’re up against.

“Do you know Magister Tierney’s third incantation for dispelling illusions? I would cast it, but?—”

“I know it.” He flicks through his grimoire; the page with the correct runeform already dog-eared like he’s used it multiple times before. “Keep the disguise spell up. I’ll sort this.”

“It might not be enough.”

“I can follow it with Geyer’s magnifying spell.”

Eddy and North look between the two of us like we’re speaking a foreign language, but my shoulders sink a little in relief. I nod, gratitude surging through me. Without the Arcanaeum, I can’t cast as many spells at once, and that’s never been as frustrating as it is right now.

Dakari rushes through the first incantation, and soon spidery white lines—so faint they might as well be cobwebs—crisscross the room and the grounds around us. After the second spell, they solidify, the colours changing from barely there pale to bright jewel shades that indicate what magic we’re dealing with.