Page 19 of Liminal

Once, I would’ve been one of them. The knowledge that this repository was built on lies and darkness was enough of a shock that, at first, I considered destroying it myself. There are certainly grimoires in the Vault below that—in the wrong hands—could lead to hundreds upon thousands of deaths.

But the Arcanaeum itself is not evil. Or, if it is, then so am I. It deserves to be protected and preserved for future generations.

“I can tell you about the first patrons,” I agree. “But the disappearance of the Arcanaeum was for good reason, and I shall say no more on that subject.”

Reading the new slide, I smile. “Ah, Emily Austin. One of the illegitimate descendants of the Carlton family. She was a lovely girl, very chatty—although that almost got her banned. Her academic focus was the school of illusion.” I pause. “She’s really over-exaggerating the place here… Ah, I see. She’s writing to her father, attempting to persuade him to legitimise her. Those were the early days. She soon wised up and was rid of him.”

Hopkinson has actually taken out his notebook now, scribbling away like he’s a young student all over again. “Fascinating. So the halls weren’t gilded back then?”

I muffle a snort. “I have never been so ostentatious a decorator as to use solid gold flooring in my designs, magister.”

Northcliff utters a cough that sounds suspiciously like “bullshit,” and before I can stop it, a book slides from one of the shelves and slaps him about the head.

Why is that so satisfying?

Five

Lambert

The Librarian’s a no-show for our next class, which means there’s nothing to spare me from Hopkinson’s droning. Ordinarily, it’s not so bad because I have Larissa’s spectacular tits to look at. But she’s wearing a turtleneck today—probably because she’s still not happy with me for forgetting about our lunch date.

It wasn’t my fault. I’d much rather have been watching her wrap those ruby red lips around a bubble tea straw than listen to North bitch about his daddy issues, but unfortunately, the bro code cock-blocked me again. She still preens when I sneak a glance her way, so perhaps all isn’t lost.

If the Librarian had been here, Larissa’s tits wouldn’t even cross my mind. The ghost must’ve been born in the corset-era or something because those gorgeous globes are thrust up and out, displayed almost fully by a low lace neckline that modern women would judge each other for.

Still, her absence is unhelpful, given that I actually need to talk to her.

Hopkinson is almost sadder than I am at the lack of our spooky spectre, although my pointing out that he shouldn’t have failed me last year if he was teaching the wrong material distracted him somewhat.

I can’t wait to figure out her name, and I have so many questions. What was ancient magiball like? Did she watch the first game? Okay, so maybe she’s not that old, but still…

The other students looked for her, too. They notice her now. Before, she was part of the furniture, only to be acknowledged when they needed something. Now they greet her on their way into the Arcanaeum.

I can tell it freaks her out because she doesn’t look at them when they do it. Even Northcliff lifts his chin to acknowledge her, and I think that disturbs her the most.

There’s some drama there, no doubt, but as gruff as he might be, he’s not his creepy ass relatives, and he’s got his reasons.

My smile widens as I hear the unmistakable sound of her voice coming from her desk in the Rotunda ahead, then drops as I realise she’s using that tone—the exasperated one I thought she only used on me. No fair.

I puff up as I approach the desk, eyeing the scrawny professor with annoyance. Professor Goodberry teaches basic destruction school magic to the first years, but the dude needs to work on his protein intake or something.

And he’s definitely bothering the boss.

“For the last time, Professor,” the Librarian draws out the title, not-so-subtly pointing out that he isn’t even accomplished enough at his subject to become a magister. “Destruction classes are never going to be held in this Arcanaeum.”

“But Magister Hopkinson?—”

“Is teaching a theory class.” She shuts him down from behind the piles of books that have been piling up on her desk with ease.“Reread the rules you agreed to when you received your library card, if you must. No fire in the Arcanaeum.”

“What about?—”

She holds out her hand, and his library card appears in it.

Ooooh, he’s really pissed her off. Should I save him? I suck my lower lip between my teeth as I think about it.

Eh, why not? I need to pass this year.

I slip between him and the desk, giving her my best smile. Most girls would be either blushing and flirting or straight up offering to suck me off right now, but not the Librarian. Boss lady just frowns harder.