I tune out their bickering as I ponder North’s absence.
It could be true. North has been struggling more than Lambert has, thanks mostly to the ridiculous lack of information Josef provided him. Since the circumstances leading to his admission to the Arcanaeum became clear, I’ve examined him closely, and now that I’m looking for it, I catch moments where he’s obviously lost or overwhelmed. Brief seconds where he doesn’t understand what’s going on, before he quickly covers it with false confidence and gruff remarks.
Even though I understand a little more of his motivations, that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten the driving force behind them. North is his father’s puppet. I wouldn’t put it past him to try to sneak into the Vault again if Josef asked him to. So I examine Lambert with narrowed eyes, looking for a hint of deception.
Not that I noticed any the last time they tried to trick me. Is using a truth spell on them a little too paranoid?
“Which exams?” I finally ask with a sigh.
Lambert winces, shooting Leo an almost wary glance that’s gone before the other man can catch it. “Ensorcellment. We’re focusing on nullification and illusion next term, but I didn’t really find any of it interesting.”
“What Lambert means to say,” Galileo cuts in, “Is that I wasn’t there to force his attendance, so he missed most of the lectures.”
And Galileo likely didn’t attend because it’s a sore subject for him.
“Your attendance should not be dictated by Galileo’s,” I scold mildly.
“I knowwww,” Lambert pouts. “But the first game of the season istomorrow, and Coach wants us at the top of our game.”
“You would be far closer to the top of your game if you knew how to use spells that could confuse and control your opponents,” I retort. “Come. I assume you’re usingEnsorcellment Basics and Best Practiceby Raddigan Ó Rinn as your course text?”
Lambert gapes at me. “How did you know?”
Because I’ve loaned a copy of the two-hundred-year-old tome to every single first year to cross the Arcanaeum’s doorstep since it was published. I don’t say it, because I don’t wish to age myself unnecessarily, but my unimpressed look must give away the answer because Lambert grins and?—
“No. Hugging!” I drop through the floor and reappear several feet away. “What must I do to force that rule into your pretty head?”
Instead of looking chastised in the slightest, Lambert’s smile turns luminous.
“She thinks I’m pretty!” He practically jumps into the air with excitement, then holds his hand up, as if asking Leo for a high five, only to be disappointed. “Oh, come on, Leo. She probably thinks you’re pretty, too!”
I splutter. “I meant it as?—!”
“Ah, ah, ah! No takebacksies! Now, tell Leo he’s pretty. He could do with a little ego boost after the dressing down his grandfather gave him this morning.”
Questions must swim in my eyes, because Leo grabs Lambert by both shoulders and forces him between us like a shield. “He will do anything to get out of this. I suggest a sticking spell on his ass to stop him running away.”
“Look, ensorcellment is a dumb school,” Lambert pleads. “It’s all about manipulating people, and I don’t…”
Of course he doesn’t. He’s Lambert. Manipulating people isn’t something he has to do consciously; they just fall over backwards to help him, anyway.
My long, loud groan cuts him off. “Go sit in the study area. I’ll find some books and a mirror.”
“A mirror?” Lambert looks confused.
“If your objections come from practising on other people, you can practise on yourself.”
“Lambert doesn’t need to fall in love with himself any more than he already has,” Leo comments dryly.
Silently I agree, but I don’t reply as I head down into one of the Arcanaeum’s many old storerooms in search of what I need. I could’ve simply summoned it to me, but the distraction gives me space to collect myself before we get started.
When I return to the study nook I’m quickly beginning to refer to as theirs, I bring the old floor-to-ceiling looking glass with me. They’ve chosen opposite sides of the table, and Lambert’s books are already spread over the surface. His eyes widen at the engravings in the gilt frame and the gems set into the runeforms.
“How did you get that?” Leo asks, standing and running a finger over the metal.
“One of the McKinley ancestors once tried to use the Arcanaeum as a way to save their possessions during a fire,” I explain absently. “The fire claimed them in the end, but their possessions remained, and no one came to claim them. So…”
“So you stole them?” Lambert looks oddly impressed. “Sneaky Librarian!”
