Page 108 of Liminal

He heard everything. The smirk he’s wearing confirms it.

“Don’t waste your magic.” He pushes himself up onto his elbows with a sly look I don’t trust for one second, smoothing back his princely blond hair with one hand. “So, touching the heirs is causing the cracks? Well, that’s interesting to know, isn’t it?”

He knows something. The certainty slams into me like an ice shard.

Dakari reaches for his grimoire, but Pierce has used our distraction to his advantage, and he’s faster.

Instead of the attack I’m prepared for, he mutters a swift spell and disappears in a flash of light. The last notes of his cultured voice hang in the air a second—transportation spells in and out of the Arcanaeum always taking a little longer than theyshould—and then there’s only silence, made heavier with the knowledge that I just made an incalculable error.

“Is he gone?” Dakari asks, his hand still pressed to the pages, power radiating from him.

I nod. “Yes. That was a quick transport spell. He must have set up a beacon before he came here, which means he was expecting to get caught.”

Ordinarily, the Arcanaeum would’ve blocked such an attempt…but not Pierce.

Why are these six men the exception to every rule?

Dakari grimaces. “We won’t let him get close enough to touch you.”

Shaking my head, I move towards the stairs. “I would rather enjoy the magiball game with you both than worry about something that’s out of our control.”

“Kyrith.” He steps in front of me. “What aren’t you telling us?”

Meeting those predatory eyes takes a lot of bravery, and I fold my arms over my abdomen as if it will help me hold myself together.

“Pierce believes that the reason for the cracks is because the Arcanaeum is running out of power. He said he wouldn’t have to get rid of me, because sooner or later, I’ll die, anyway.”

Jasper curses. “We can help. We’re heirs. Power is our thing, right?”

Dakari is silent, thinking it over. “You don’t think he was telling the truth?”

“Pierce Carlton is no stranger to necromancy,” I say with a soft certainty that makes the shelves around us dip with sadness. “But his theory doesn’t add up. I can still use a tremendous amount of power without tiring. The Arcanaeum is still running normally.”

“So he’s talking out of his ass.”

Honestly, I don’t know. No one knows. This isn’t something that’s ever happened before. There aren’t any other Arcanaeums or librarians to draw comparisons from.

So I shrug. “I can only hope that he’s drawing the wrong conclusions, and therefore likely to underestimate me.”

Except, I think back to that look he gave me before he disappeared, and wonder…

What if I’m wrong?

Thirty-One

Kyrith

“So it’s like volleyball?” Eddy asks, hugging a bowl of popcorn to her chest as she sits cross-legged on the end of the sectional. “But with magic?”

“Near enough,” I say, but Lambert interrupts.

“How can you compare it to an inept sport where the balls have no acid, no spikes, and never turn invisible?” His flabbergasted expression is teasing and light.

My irrational jealousy is still there, prickling at the edges of my consciousness, and it lends sharpness to my tone as I ask, “Shouldn’t you be going?”

“Boss lady, you wound me.” He presses his free hand over his heart theatrically.

Dakari folds his arms over his chest, like he senses my lack of amusement and is ready to step in if Lambert makes me uncomfortable, or worse, tries to hug me. He does neither, adjusting the black, white, and gold jacket across his arm, and I catch sight of his name and number embroidered onto the back.