All three of them bristle.
“The Arcanaeum’s survival relies on remaining a place of neutrality.” Anthea’s hand comes to rest over the dark grimoire holstered at her hip, and the Arcanaeum bristles, books rustling on the shelves. Something about that spell book feelsslimy. “It would be unwise of the Librarian to change that stance.”
My illusion floats a little higher, not backing down.
“Threatening me will not convince me to change my mind. You are toeing the line of the law as it is. Now leave, before I banish the three of you.”
Under the terms of Sanctuary, no one can enter the Arcanaeum seeking to force those who have claimed protection to leave. Once Dakari and Jasper go, they’re free game, but until then…
“If it isn’t my least favourite cousin.” Lambert—stupid, happy, aggravating Lambert—bursts into the room with North just behind him. “Where’s your bigger, badder baby brother, Anthea? I owe him a black eye.”
He’s wearing jeans and a bright orange t-shirt with a cartoon ghost on it, the stark opposite to the formal black business attire of the Carltons, and in his arms is yetanotherpoorly bound magiball magazine.
A quiet, exasperated breath fills the air beside me, and I jerk.
Galileo has snuck up on me while I wasn’t watching and stares down at the scene below with pure weariness on his face.
My illusion doesn’t flicker, though it’s a very close thing.
“Our parriarch will hear about this,” Anthea grumbles, ignoring Lambert. “She won’t be impressed.”
“Isadora is welcome to be as unhappy as she likes,” my illusion replies. “As long as she adheres to the law.”
I let the magic drop, my illusion disappearing and taking the final word with her.
Below me, Lambert snorts. “Threatening the boss lady, Thea? Really?”
“None of your business.” Anthea spares a glance at North. “And keep the half-dull bastard away from me. I don’t need that kind of taint breathing the same air.”
IknowI shouldn’t. In fact, I really do try to hold myself back. This isNorth, after all, I don’t want to defend him.
But the book soars from the shelf, anyway, hitting Anthea square in the back of her perfect skull.
“The Librarianreallydislikes that word,” Lambert supplies, helpfully. “Surely you remember that from your lessons…even if they were decades ago.”
Anthea isn’t old, in her mid-thirties at best, but the insult still hits.
“If your mother…” she begins.
“Why is the heir of House Carlton threatening the Arcanaeum?” Galileo asks, his voice quiet, but no less commanding, as he distracts me.
Abandoning Lambert to fight his own battles—because if he can’t finish what he started, he shouldn’t have started it—I turn to face him.
“It shouldn’t concern you,” I reply evenly. “Though I suppose you’ll find out, anyway. The Arcanaeum is hosting a few guests.”
“Who?”
But my reply is cut off.
“Youdaresay that to my face!” Anthea screeches.
Both of us turn at once, just in time to see Lambert’s tattoos glow and his skin turn to stone. His arm shoots out to knock North aside. Ackland looks like he’s been slugged by a ten-tonne boulder, which I suppose he has, but Lambert’s quick thinking is the only thing that spares them both as Anthea slams her palm down on a bookmarked page of her grimoire and breathes fire over them.
“Enough!” I snap, completely forgetting my desire to remain hidden. “No flames in the Arcanaeum.”
Making myself as translucent as possible, I zoom between the two arcanists. I land right in the middle of the stream of fire, but it does nothing besides shock Anthea out of her tantrum. The flames fizzle out as she removes her hand from the pages of her book, and I level my best scowl at her.
Summoning Anthea’s card into my hand, I tut under my breath as I realise she already has a strike there. It’s been long enough since she was here that I don’t remember the original infraction, but I don’t give third chances…