Benny was right. All six heirs and the dagger are connected to the Arcanaeum and me. The dagger strongest of all. A direct line. Not a heart, but a key forged by channelling dozens of sacrifices.
Worse, I can’t see any way to sever any of them from the Library. They might not be fully enmeshed with it like I am, but they’re linked. I can’t cut it because I can’t see them.
I think… I think they could draw from the Arcanaeum—from me—if they needed to. That must go both ways, since the Arcanaeum stole power from them to break the time loop. The closer I look, the more obvious it becomes that the Library is treating them like books.
Maintaining them.
Magic only knows what this means for them. For their lifespans. The Library keeps the collection in good condition, so if I had to guess, I’d say it’s doing the same for the heirs.
I’ve barely started studying them when Dakari’s bursts into blazing brightness. The connection snaps taut as he appears at the other end of the rope. His magical well is immense for an arcanist. If I try, I can see his grimoire, linked to him by a separate thread.
I disentangle myself from the trance, worry eclipsing everything until I recognise the sensation of being surrounded by strong arms.
He’s pulled me into his lap. Westley—apparently unhappy with the adjustment—leaps from where he was napping in my skirts, but neither of us pays the cat any mind.
Touching me makes me physical, but it also links the heirs to the Arcanaeum’s magical well, and by extension, to me. Damn. Is that why they can force me to switch out of my ghost form?
It makes sense. They cracked me when they touched me for the same reason.
Mystery solved, I dive back into the trance rather than face Dakari. I need answers. I need to find my grimoire. Without it, there’s a possibility I won’t be able to break Leo’s curse. We’ll need to find someone else, and?—
There.
A withered thread.
My grimoire is so loosely anchored to the Arcanaeum that it appears on the verge of floating away. I suppose that’s not surprising. I never used it. It’s been five hundred years since I even laid eyes on it.
Which would explain why Mathias hasn’t been able to wield it against me.
The bond between the book and me is far too weak. It would grow over time if I regularly cast from it, but right now…it would be no different from using any other random grimoire to break into the Arcanaeum.
Unfortunately, the weakness of that tether makes attempting to locate it impossible.
Satisfied, I draw out of the trance, slowly forcing my awareness back into my fingertips. My toes. The warmth at my back steals my attention, and Dakari’s lips brush the column of my neck.
“You back?”
“How could you tell?”
I feel his shrug against my spine. “Your breathing changed. Are you okay?”
My cheeks flush. “You’re too observant.”
“You’re deflecting.”
Because I need to process what I’ve just learned. I need to work out how to tell this man about the inchoate connection between us. Magic, I need to tell all of them.
None of them will like this.
I’m not sure I like it either. Such bonds are likely to deepen with time and repeated connections. The more we touch, the more magic is exchanged between us… Who knows what the ramifications could be?
It definitely warrants further study.
“I can’t tell you where my grimoire is,” I say. “I tried to find it, but whatever link I have to it is weak.”
Dakari nods.
“Are you still planning to go to dinner at Carlton Manor?”
