Page 117 of Liminal

Whatever he blew in my face after the game wore off in the car, but by that point, he already had his black-and-silver grimoire open and ready to hit me with whatever this is.

My legs walk wherever he decides they should go, like my lower body is his puppet, and my arms are paralysed.

Ensorcellments. Kyrith taught us about this. Unfortunately, nullification spells are next term, so I don’t have a fucking clue what to do about it.

As long as that book is in his hand, I’m useless.

I really, really hate magic. You’d think being hit with all that ‘yer a wizard, North’ bullshit would improve my shitty life, but all it’s done is made it worse.

Pierce’s shoes echo on the tiled entryway, a contrast to the cheap squeak of my ratty Converse, and I hate him a little more for it. How rich do you have to be for your clothes tosoundwealthy?

The worst part is, I know where we are. I have since we pulled onto the fancy street. So it’s no surprise when he forces us up the stairs, knocks, and opens the study door without waiting for an answer, then directs me into my so-called father’s study.

Dread pools in my gut, because nothing good ever comes from being in this house. Nothing good ever comes of being in Josef’s presence, either.

“Ah, Pierce, thank you for collecting him. Won’t you both have a seat?”

Josef is standing behind his desk, looking through the blinds at the street below, and in the seat behind his desk is a dishevelled man I’ve not met before, looking at both of us with open curiosity.

“I don’t think the ensorcellment is necessary,” he says. “Nice to meet you, Northcliff. I’m Benny.”

He’s dressed like a hipster in a leather jacket with a faded, washed-out tee beneath. He’s got silver rings on almost every finger of the hand he’s holding out for me to shake, and his face is weatherbeaten and relaxed.

“Why am I here?” I retort, ignoring the hand. I’m not in the mood for these games.

The first time I sat in this chair, I was in fucking awe of everything around me. It didn’t take long for that to pass.

“Won’t you have something to drink?” Benny asks, gesturing at the liquor cabinet that’s already open with his own glass of amber liquid. “I’ve missed good whisky while I was travelling.”

Pierce is already helping himself. The second his hand leaves the pages of his grimoire, I regain control of my legs and shove to my feet.

“Not so fast.” Josef doesn’t even look away from the window. “You think I don’t know where Edlynn is?”

My ass hits leather with a resigned but audible thud. “She’s far away from you, and safe.”

Until I piss the Librarian off again, which I seem to do just by breathing.

Pierce scoffs. “You are truly dense if you believe Edlynn is safer in the Arcanaeum.”

I grind my teeth together and pin Pierce with a glare. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion, asshole. Besides, she’s safer now that she can walk and isn’t constantly at risk of pneumonia.”

The last time my twin caught it, she almost died. I sat in that hospital room for days praying that I wouldn’t have to bury her, too. Kyrith saved her life—like Josef promised he would, but without demanding my soul in return. Even though she’s a ghost, she’s a decent fucking person. Unlike our sperm-donor.

He caused the accident that killed our parents as a punishment for my refusal to join him the first time, then used her cure as blackmail to make sure I behaved. Needless to say, it became obvious quickly that he was unlikely to keep his promises.

The three posh twats exchange a look that makes me regret opening my big mouth.

“High level restoration magic,” Benny muses. “Confirms my theory, she’s not declining. Not if she can do that.”

Kyrith. They’re talking about Kyrith.

Shit.

“I didn’t say it was her.” It’s a shitty technicality, and they all know it.

“You didn’t have to. The McKinley heir is still too weak to heal more than a stubbed toe. I checked myself. And I doubt Ó Rinn managed to get his head out of his ass long enough to helpyou.” Pierce scoffs, downing his liquor before turning to Benny. “So, what now?”

“Leave the Librarian alone,” I interject. “She doesn’t have your stupid grimoire.”