Page 86 of Liminal
I wish I could fade completely, but they’re still here, so I wait and watch.
Lambert shrugs off Dakari’s hand with a glower, and the Talcott heir raises both palms in silent apology.
“What the fuck was that?” North finally demands.
All of them are rounding on the older arcanist now, I note. Like they expect him to explain. When he speaks, a second later, the reason for that becomes painfully clear.
“I don’t know what it is. It happens every single night.”
Every night? He… How many times has he seen? Why would he keep watching? If I could, I’d throttle the building until it answers me. It’s silent now, waiting and watching without so much as a creak in the rafters.
“I think it’s fairly obvious.” Galileo clinically folds up the sleeves of his shirt, ignoring their looks.
“Explain then,” Lambert grumbles, snatching up his black magiball jacket from where it’s fallen to the floor. “Because that was awful.”
“She’s a ghost. There are literally dozens of accounts of ghosts re-enacting their deaths. Apparently, she’s no different.”
“And she died in the Vault,” North realises. “That’s why she won’t let anyone down there.”
“And we’re five hundred years too late to do anything about it,” Dakari mutters, hands fisted by his side.
“She dies over and over in the Vault at the hands of all six parriarchs,” Leo murmurs, calculation heavy in his tone. “Which means that something down there is powerful enough to bind a spirit to a building for so long.”
The books around them start to lift from the shelves defensively. Behind them, a secret door that shouldn’t exist slams closed noisily.
Dakari’s fingers are wrapped around the slender man’s throat before he can say another word. “If you think for one second?—”
“Hey, dude, he doesn’t mean it.” Lambert steps between the two of them and stares them both down. “Look. I get it. The Ó Rinns aren’t exactly renowned for their trustworthiness, but Leo is different. He just wants to cure?—”
“That’s all theyeverwant.” Dakari’s black eyes flash. “And they don’t give a damn about who gets hurt in the process. She has sufferedenough. I think it’s pretty damned clear that the Arcanaeum brought you here to see that for yourselves, before you try to use her.”
His protectiveness soothes something inside me that I didn’t know was jagged and raw. The books that had been floating around them lower as the stones in the foundation seem to ease slightly with hope.
Jasper shifts against the bookcase that he was using to support himself, folding his arms. “We should apologise. She clearly didn’t want us to see her like that.”
“Then why let us in?” North just looks confused. “I thought?—”
“It’s becoming clear that the Librarian is not the only being able to control the Arcanaeum.” Leo waves him off. “Either the ghosts of the liminals sacrificed before her are still active, or?—”
“The building is sentient.” Lambert shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I figured everyone knew.
All four of them turn to look at him like he’s insane.
“What?”
“How exactly did you come to that conclusion?” Leo asks, though his expression remains calculating rather than surprised.
The sheepish way he shifts his weight from foot to foot makes me certain I won’t like this answer. “This one time,during tutoring, I almost set the place on fire, and I was trying to extinguish it before Kyrith noticed. She gets so disappointed, and I wanted… Yeah, anyway… This pile of sand poured over the desk before I could use a book to pat it out, and then the sand disappeared, and a book shifted to cover the scorch marks before the boss lady could notice.” Another casual shrug. “I figure we’re bros.”
What. On. Earth?
He’s not lying. The curtains are inching closed in the way I’ve taken to interpret as embarrassment. Butbros? Really?
Lambert looks around with a small frown. “She argues with it a lot as well. Have you really not noticed?”
Dakari nods, finally releasing Leo’s neck. “When she asked me to collect Mathias Ackland’s grimoire, she seemed like she didn’t want it. The assignment kept popping out of the drawers of her desk.”
Leo massages his throat, pacing to put distance between them.
