Page 71 of Liminal

It’s a bitter pleasure to inform him, “Grimoires in the Vault are not available to patrons.”

The way his eyes narrow speaks of talons and death. “That didn’t seem to be a rule in your office.”

“That was different.”

“Why? Because it served you?”

“Because they were illegible.”

“Guys, guys.” Lambert stands and squeezes past North to place himself physically between us. “Come on. We’re here to help North learn to laugh, not argue. Besides, we have bigger problems now.”

Both of us turn our stony gazes on him, but he’s immune.

“What. Problems?” Leo grinds out.

“Kyrith’s never seen a magiball game.” He spreads his hands like it should be obvious. “That means we have to set her up to watch the first game of the season! She can watch me play! And if the boss wants to decorate again, I think the Arcanaeum would look amazing in UAA colours.”

Oh magic, no. He’s giving the building ideas. I would rather hug North and end it all than suffer the indignity of finding the Rotunda hung with magiball bunting.

“Next you’ll be suggesting the Librarian wear your merchandise,” Leo comments, the aggressiveness barely fading from his tone and posture, but of course, it makes Lambert’s eyes light up.

“No. Absolutely not. I can’t wear clothes.” I’ve been wearing the same borrowed dress for my entire undead tenure, and it simply would not work with modern clothing.

“You can hold books.” Lambert beams. “You could float one of the jackets around your shoulders.”

“I would rather?—”

“Just let him set up the screen,” North mutters. “So we can get on with this stupid giggling lesson.”

“I’ll even score for you, boss.” Lambert tosses his hair over his shoulder and shoots me a practised wink.

“Does that honestly work on women?” I ask, grimacing as I remember the way the girls in their class fawn over him. “Actually, don’t answer that. You’re clearly somehow proficient at courtship.”

“Hey! Don’t slut shame me.”

But he makes it so hardnotto. “Fine, the screen only. No jackets. No decorations.”

Perhaps Dakari and Jasper will appreciate the entertainment, if nothing else.

Unfortunately, despite Lambert’s distraction, I doubt the matter is really closed between Leo and me. Silently, I ponder the odds that he’ll try to break into the Vault himself.

He’s vastly better equipped for a break-in than the Ackland heir. He might actually succeed. Which means I need to play his game. Give him hope and string him along. I might even feel bad about it if he hadn’t played me so well already.

“If you find anything about Ackland’s grimoire, I’ll consider changing my mind,” I eventually concede in his direction. “Now, keep practising. I have something else to attend to.”

Or rather, someoneelse. Dakari is spying on us from around the corner. Magic save me from these insufferable heirs. I disappear and reappear behind him, clearing my throat expectantly.

To his credit, he doesn’t whirl, or try to pretend he wasn’t listening in.

“You could simply sit with us,” I offer. “Jasper, too, when he’s well enough. They aren’t a threat.”

Dakari snorts. “You say that like Ó Rinn wasn’t just promising you his family fortune while plotting to take what he wants the moment your back’s turned.”

I want to be surprised that our assessments of the situation are so similar, but I’m not.

“I can handle him.”

“No doubt,” he says, as laughter erupts from the study nook. “But it’s not just him you have to worry about. Ó Rinns tend to get desperate fast when they feel the first stirrings of the curse. If you’re not careful, he’ll join forces with the Carltons.”