Page 57 of Liminal

Proud, capable Kyrith wouldn’t want me to see her like this, but I’m not comfortable leaving her when she’s sitting on the floor, hugging her own knees, looking like she’s been through hell. Especially not when her screams and begging are still ringing in my ears.

The book gets more insistent, bashing against my skull until I reluctantly turn and allow it to shepherd me back towards the room where Jasper is still sleeping peacefully, unaware of anything that just happened.

I settle on my own bunk, but I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep any time soon.

The next day, I watch her closely for signs she’s feeling unwell. But she continues working on healing Jasper, tutoring Lambert and Northcliff, and supervising patrons like nothing has happened. It should’ve been a clue, but when the fog seeps under the door that evening, my gut still drops in shock and dread.

I sneak down the stairs and watch it all happen again.

Standing there, on the Gallery, I watch as she pulls herself back together piece by piece in a state of mute horror.

Every night? She endures this—whateverthisis—every single night?

How is that possible?

More importantly, how do I stop it?

Seventeen

Kyrith

Stepping back, I wince as Jasper jackknifes up from the bed and vomits through my body in a spray the same colour as the blue potion I just tried to feed him.

It’s not working.

Why is it not working?

At times like these, it’s all I can do not to scream in frustration. All these years studying every text on healing magic that’s passed through my doors, and yet, when it really matters, I would give anything for real world experience.

“He can’t keep anything down,” Dakari notes, and I sigh.

While Jasper’s been improving until now, the other arcanist has been behaving oddly ever since pizza night, and I can’t understand it. His tone, already quiet and controlled, has become almost gentle. He even opened a door for me yesterday, despite how completely pointless the action was. There was never a moment before where I felt like he didn’t respect me, but now…

Now it’s almost like he’s going above and beyond to be considerate.

“I’ll try something else,” I murmur. “But I might have to wake him fully and see if exercise and a good diet can improve his symptoms first.”

That latest potion was supposed to help strengthen his magical well, but he’s rejected it, and the one before that.

“Is he well enough?” Dakari asks, and I nod.

“Oh, physically, he’s fine?—”

I cut off at the bell chime that echoes through the Arcanaeum. It’s early, just past the opening time rush, but that’s not what gives me pause.

The Arcanaeum is bristling. It sends me a picture of a silhouette by the desk, and then a low, deep groan of warning.

“What’s wrong?” Dakari must’ve noticed my puzzlement.

“I don’t know…” I murmur under my breath. “I’ll deal with it, but I?—”

The bell rings again, impatiently this time.

“That’s just rude,” I huff, and Dakari’s lips twist into a wry little smile.

“Want me to go bash some skulls together?” he asks, and I get the sense he’s very serious.

“I have books from the biography section on hand, if any skulls need bashing.”