Page 54 of Liminal
“Erm, boss lady, that might not be a great idea…” Lambert eyes the book warily. “You realise those things spit acid and fire, right?”
“Not a full magiball, eejit,” Galileo says, groaning. “The bronze shells are?—”
“What do you mean, acid and fire?” North’s tone drips with accusation. “You said it was like volleyball.”
Sighing, I give Lambert and Leo a pointed look. “If I’m to teach him magic, you both need to teach him about his culture when he’s not here. I can’t be expected to do everything.” I draw on the magic of the Arcanaeum, tugging a book from the shelf and letting it flick open to the correct page on the table.
“This is the runeform you need, it uses the constellation pattern of?—”
“Constellation pattern?” North interrupts. “You mean to tell me this is all stars? Not just random shapes? It’s astrology bullshi?—”
“Profanity,” I interrupt, shaking my head, then scrub a hand over my face. “All runeforms are derived from the stars. The constellations arcanists recognise are different from the ones used by inepts for their astrology.”
Surely, he must at least know that much? What on earth are they teaching at the university these days?
“The classes assume some prior knowledge.” Galileo reads my mind with unerring accuracy. “Given that unclaimed liminals are so rare, the majority of students have had prior tutoring. Those who haven’t, fail.”
“And Josef didn’t provide a tutor?” I frown.
North’s face shuts down, but he doesn’t offer an explanation.
“Well, he’s got you now.” Lambert offers a sly panty-melting grin that might’ve raised my blood pressure were I alive. “What better tutor could he ask for?”
“Indeed, you’ll have to tell me how you managed to convince Kyrith to teach you anything.” Dakari is still scowling at them. “I can only imagine the Carltons will be even less impressed with this show of favour.”
Lambert rolls his eyes. “The same Carltons who are ‘too good’ to be reliant on such a ‘relic of the past’?”
The Arcanaeum bristles, and he holds his hands up. “I don’t think that, I swear. I love this place. It’s stunning, and you make it beautiful.”
The building calms, the shelves sighing at the compliment.
“Vain,” North mutters.
The book he’s supposed to be studying jumps up and smacks him in the face.
“Oww!” His hands fly to his nose, and I grimace as I wonder if I accidentally got blood on the book. I didn’t even hit him hard, for magic’s sake.
When he moves, there’s no blood. Phew.
The devilish glint in his eyes promises vengeance, and I narrow my eyes at him.
“As I was saying,” I finally continue. “You need to use this runeform, and on top of that, you need to picture clearly the object you’re conjuring.”
To demonstrate, I pull on the magic of the Arcanaeum and follow my own advice.
“Crieti.”
A bronze ball, larger than a tennis ball but smaller than a football, materialises on the table, and Lambert picks it up with a grin. His fingers trace the ornate carvings across the shell with reverence.
“They’re pretty when they’re not trying to impale you.” He passes it to North, who frowns.
“Impale you?”
“There are three of them, alpha, beta, and gamma, and they all move at different speeds.” Lambert’s eyes light up. “Each one has different attacks, and the aim is not to let them hit the floor on your side of the net. Scoring starts at a hundred, and the first team that either has all their players taken out or reaches zero loses.”
“Taken out?” North is actually starting to go pale.
“Oh, yeah. Sometimes it’s the balls, but most of the time it’s the other team sabotaging?—”
