Get the runeform dealt with, gather what information I can, and then get out. Oh sure, I’d promise whatever he wanted, but the great thing about promises? They don’t mean shite if they’re not on paper.
I have no issue with lying to Mathias’s face. I’ll gladly relinquish whatever honour I have left if it keeps her safe.
I’ll take precautions. Every protection I know, and a transport spell to get me out of there if it looks like he’s backing out of our deal. If things go south, I can blackmail him. He doesn’t want the world to know that he’s a lich or that Isidora is a necromancer, and I can use that.
A book shoves me forward onto the first step, and I grit my teeth. “I don’t trustDakari.”
To be honest, I don’t trust Pierce and his mad grandfather either.
Or the lich and his disciples.
At least if the Talcott heir messes with me, I’m fairly sure Kyrith will chuck books at him until he gets brain damage.
My heart pangs a little painfully in my chest at the thought of her, all riled up with fury. I didn’t… Nothing I just did was planned. I never thought I’d tell her. At least not until my curse was dealt with.
I didn’t even dare admit it to myself until she pushed and then…
Well, at least I was enough of a bastard that my feelings will never, ever be reciprocated. Perhaps that will spare her the worst of the curse. Maybe it will even force me to move on.
Not likely. Still, I’ve been trying my best to control my feelings for the better part of my life now. Perhaps I could try to make myself fall in love with Mathias while I’m at it.
At least then I could be useful.
Being told Kyrith no longer wants me here, in the only place that has ever felt like home, makes me want to put my fist through the wall. Never return to the Library? Never see her again?
No. Just no. Shehasto forgive me.
Only…she doesn’t. The Librarian is spectacularly stubborn, her pride a beautiful, steely thing. I could beg, grovel, but I’m not stupid. There’s almost no chance it’ll work.
My breath may as well be coming through a straw by the time I force my attention away from the dread strangling me and back to the staircase. Now isn’t the time. The books at my back are doing their best to shove me head over arse. Obliging them, I take a single step, then another, my leaden footsteps echoing hollowly down the stairwell.
Pragmatically, this way is better. If they’re ready to break the second layer now, that’s better than waiting for Friday. I’llhave some time to recover before we tackle the final runeform. There’s time for Kyrith to figure it out.
Maybe she’ll manage it.
I still cling to that hope, despite the creeping countdown chilling my blood. I could have months to go, but my gut says it won’t be that long. A dread voice in the back of my mind warns that it won’t be enough, that I should send a copy of the final layer to Mathias the second I have it. Or smarter still, end it before Lambert or Kyrith can come to harm.
Seeing Dakari’s black gaze staring up at me from the base of the stairwell makes me stiffen. Kyrie asked me to do this. I owe her this much after how I’ve treated her. Still, it feels like descending into a pool with a feral shark.
The comparison is only made worse when he tries to deck me the moment I’m within arm’s reach.
“Oi, what was that for!” I demand, dodging.
“You tried to sell her out,” he growls, grabbing me by the scruff of the neck when I would’ve put space between us. “Pierce told us all about your little meeting with Anthea.”
And he’s decided to defend Kyrie’s honour. How noble.
“I’m not here to explain myself to you.”
The Library seems to have closed off this section of the hallway, giving us the illusion of privacy. Even the windows have darkened, although that might be more of a reflection of Kyrith’s mood.
I’ve noticed everything tends to take on a deeper colour when she’s upset. The drapes, the furnishings, even the floor.
Or maybe the Arcanaeum is just pissed at me.
“Let’s just get this over with.” Even Jasper’s expression is hard with judgement.
Feck him.
