Page 106 of Liminal

“They have no power here,” I mutter, gliding through a stack of books floating back to their shelves that he’s forced to dodge around. “I am more concerned with why Isidora Carlton wants you to marry her daughter, and why her son just used that distraction to slip past me.”

Dakari curses, catching on quickly. “Where’s Jasper?”

He’s found a corner of the Restoration Tower where he’s been quietly reading all morning, but Pierce is already there, and that’s what worries me.

“With him,” I confirm, floating a little faster. “But they’re currently only talking.”

“I’ll deal with Pierce,” Dakari suggests, easily keeping pace with me on the stairs. “You’re?—”

“Fine.” Magic, are they also going to treat me like an invalid? “I can handle it.”

Dakari grunts but doesn’t say another word on the subject. Wise man.

He takes the spiral stairs two at a time, but I summon a large pile of biographies into his path just before we reach the room, stopping him.

“Wait. We may learn more if we don’t rush in there.”

“You want to spy on Jasper…?”

No. I want to spy on Pierce, and he must gather that, because those brows crease with judgement. I raise mine, daring him to comment.

His disgruntled look says he doesn’t approve, but he wordlessly waves me forwards. “Two minutes.”

I have no doubt he’ll time me.

Merging with the fabric of the Arcanaeum, I reappear inside a dusty shelf in the room above and search the cluttered room for the two of them. This tower is only used by a few arcanists—mostly because there aren’t many with the power and skill required for master-level magics—and so they’re the only two in here.

Pierce is wearing a navy waistcoat and a pale blue shirt with the top buttons undone. Every strand of his coiffed platinum hair is neatly in place as he leans against the shelf to my left. It might seem casual, if not for the way he’s blocked Jasper between two stacks with his presence alone.

In contrast, the recovering mage is sitting like he’s ready to bolt, muscles coiled and tense. There’s a dark knowledge in those warm eyes, a weariness that wasn’t there before.

“So you see why I came?” Pierce asks.

“I understand.” Jasper gets to his feet woodenly. “But I don’t like it, and I don’t think you do either.”

Something strange passes across the face of the Carlton heir, so fleeting it’s impossible to read.

“I’m not stupid enough to think I have a choice in the matter. We were born heirs. There’s no Sanctuary for men like us.”

That’s a lie, but the defeat on Jasper’s face says he believes him.

“Just give me some time. I’m not recovered. My magic?—”

“You’re only good for healing others, anyway.” Pierce waves a hand so casually that I wouldn’t have paid any mind to it, except that his palm lands closer to the grimoire holstered at this hip.

That’s threatening enough for me to intervene. I appear behind him, clearing my throat just to watch the momentary panic tense his shoulders.

“Mr Carlton, I’d appreciate it if you could refrain from cornering my guests.”

Dakari shoulders his way up the stairs behind me, staring down Pierce until his very presence gives me a little boost of confidence. Suddenly I understand scary dog privilege—not thathe’s a dog, but honestly, he’s large, intimidating, and on my side. It counts.

“No harm in having a conversation.” Pierce shrugs so nonchalantly that I’d almost believe him if I hadn’t heard that earlier snippet of their conversation.

My fingers itch to banish him. But I know in my gut that he’s one of them. The Arcanaeum’s already wiped away the strike I gave him. It would simply allow him back in, and once he realises he’s immune to my threats, he’ll have the upper hand.

Better to keep the illusion of control.

“I’m okay, Kyrith,” Jasper says, peering around the body of his onetime captor. “Why wouldn’t I be?”