Page 30 of Liminal
“You can’t just demand to go everywhere. This is her home, dude.” Lambert is rapidly growing in my estimations. “Besides, you’re pushing too far, too fast. She has no reason to help you.”
“Help him with what?” I ask, depositing my bundle on the desk gently and stepping back.
Galileo shakes his head instead of answering, so I drop the matter for now.
“Come.” I wave a hand at two shelves, and they part, revealing a basic alembic and a retort stand, along with shelves loaded with casings and vials. “Will this be sufficient?”
Lambert cocks his head. “Wow, this stuff is ancient.” Galileo elbows him this time. “I mean, yep, boss. If I can learn with this, I can definitely manage it in the alchemy classrooms.”
I tug at my sleeve and pace. “I’m not outdated.”
“Not at all… But… Where’s the induction plate? How are we supposed to heat it?”
Inductionwhat? “Surely you have scraps for heat?”
Galileo snorts. “Lambert only has scraps for magiball.”
My groan echoes down the hall. “You didn’t?—”
“Well…no. Most labs have plumbing and electricity.”
Electricityagain. My head rolls back. “I really need to modernise… I shouldn’t be surprised how much arcanists have come to rely on inept technologies, but somehow, I always am.”
I summon a pile of palm-sized papers to the table and wave a pen across them, drawing the runeforms for heat in neat swift strokes.
“You can start chopping your ingredients,” I say absently, smoothing my skirts as I step back. “Next time, bring your own scraps.”
Lambert is already staring at the one I’ve presented him like it’s some puzzle he can’t work out. The Arcanaeum, perhaps sensing my misgivings, provides assistance in the form of protection, and Lambert drops the scrap as the frilly green apron wraps itself around his body, followed by a pair of matching heat-proof mittens.
He raises a brow at me, and I swallow, unsure how I can possibly pass this off as my own doing. Aside from the incident with Dakari, the library rarely outs itself as sentient, allowing the arcanists to believe I’m the one entirely in control. I think we both prefer it that way.
“Safety first,” I eventually mutter.
Lambert grins and whoops. “She cares!”
“It’s common sense!” I stutter, backing away because it looks like he’s—yup. I float into the bookcase to avoid the hug. “No. Hugging!”
Nine
Lambert
“Are you ready?” North asks, for the hundredth time.
Has anyone told him black is really his colour? Slimming—not that he needs it—and refined. His outfit might just be a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved top, but it matches the dark locks of his hair and brings out the bright amber streaks in his eyes. I’m not into men, but I can’t help but think if he just asked Kyrith nicely while wearing this outfit, he might get further than he will with this dumb plan.
Yeah, somewhere in the last three weeks, I’ve started to think of the plan as stupid. And no, it’s not just because Kyrith has amazing tits.
I look up from the table and pin him with a look. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
He runs a hand through his hair and glares at me from where he’s been pacing across the back wall of the living room in the house Josef’s given him. “You’re getting cold feet? Now?”
Galileo is in the corner, watching both of us with the poise of a great owl from the depths of a wingback armchair, but he says nothing.
Leaving me to be the bad guy.
“I’m just saying, if you get caught…”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to grass on you?—”
