Page 103 of Architecti
Together the four of us lean over the edge of the library roof with nothing more than hope in our hearts.
Bastien bares his teeth.“Hate heights.”
The shadowy ribbons lock around our bodies and jerk us off the edge, drawing us all the way up to the top of the tower.I try not to look down, but as the wind rushes in my ears and we’re pulled hundreds of feet into the air, I falter.
I instantly regret my life choices.My vision swims so hard I have to hold a hand over my mouth so I don’t puke.
I check my stopwatch.Twenty seconds have passed as we finally climb over the parapet ledge and drop onto the exterior balcony outside the Celestial Library.
“Go, go, go,” I say.“Make the cuts.”
Midnight and Bastien are the most effective at cutting, so they take the lead.Bastien twists his fingers and makes a sweeping motion as Mortem materialises at his feet.
A sheen of sweat appears on his brow as he stitches the frayed edges with campus magic, giving them enough stability for us to hang the second cut off the first.
Midnight shuffles into place.
“Forty-five seconds down,” I say.
Midnight’s features crumple in concentration as she examines Bastien’s cuts and swipes her hands this way and that.
“Close your eyes, picture the library, feel for the difference in vibration.It’s a different kind of notch compared to the Veil.It will feel lighter, fluffier, like blowing bubbles in the night sky.”
“Got it,” she says, and slashes her fingers apart.
The three of us gawp at the hole.A tunnel sliced right through the fabric of not just our realm but the celestial one.No one has seen inside the Celestial Library for four decades.
“Go,” Lex barks.We don’t have time.She picks up Mortem, tickles him under his chin and says, “Don’t fuck this up or I’m feeding you to a wraith.”
He hisses at her, but she’s already pushing him through the tunnel.
He, inevitably, gets stuck.
“Demon’s sake, Mortem,” Midnight growls and shoves his furry arse hard.He yowls, though much of the sound is lost between worlds.I’m pretty sure he calls Midnight some expletive that really shouldn’t be coming from a cat.
“You could always poke him in the arse,” Bastien says.
There’s a moment of reflective pause.Mortem goes deathly still.Bastien brings his finger towards Mortem’s puckered butt.“Last chance, Mortem,” he says.
The cat explodes forward.
In all the months of living with Mortem, I have genuinely never seen his legs move that fast.Suffice to say he plops out the other side of the Veil in a plume of fur clumps and hissing.The glare he gives Bastien is vicious enough to slice the lips off his smirk.
“Go,” Lex wafts a hand at him.If a cat could pout, that is the expression he gives us.He turns his back on us and trots off, a few remaining fur clumps fluttering off his back.
“Shit, look out,” Lex says as a sinewy black finger nudges at the Veil edge.
“Seal the cuts,” I shout.
Bastien and Midnight launch into action as the wraith’s arm tugs at the stitching.
“Midnight,” Lex urges.
The stopwatch shrieks at me.
“Fuck, thirty seconds left.Come on, Mortem,” I breathe.My foot taps as Midnight and Bastien battle to close the haemorrhaging Veil.The wraith’s finger bursts through, slicing a one-inch cut.
Midnight’s nose erupts, blood pissing down her face.
