I turn the handle, knocking on it at the same time. “Fort McKinley!”
The portal opens, and I shove North through without warning, slamming the door in his face.
“Jasper.” I try to merge with the building so I can reappear beside him, but I can’t. Another wave of magic surges through me, forcing me back to my ghost form.
Fine. I can run.
I dash through the garden, raising my hands as I pass back into the Arcanaeum proper.
“Ubscari,” I yell, activating the confusticating spell for the ground floor as I drag myself back to my physical formagain.
Normally, magic flows through me like water, but now it might as well be tar.
Someone else is fighting for control of the Arcanaeum.
Cold terror clamps down on my heart. The frantic beat of my shoes on the wooden floor doubles.
“Ubscari.” This time the incantation is a scream aimed at the ceiling above me, as I stumble, falling back into my ghost form with a gasp.
I think it worked on the books on the first floor. I hope it did.
The Library is still silent. Its urgency vibrates in every brick.
What’s happening to us?
“Boss?” Lambert asks, and I fall into his arms, crying out as the contact forces me solid. “What’s going on? The Library said?—”
“You need to leave.” I cut him off brutally. “It’s not safe. I need to find Jasper.”
“Leave? No. No way.”
“Lambert, we’re under attack. Something is inside the wards!”
“Then I’m staying to help!”
Despite his hold on me, I lose my physical form for a critical second. I breeze through his body, heading for the foyer. Solid. Ghost. Solid. Ghost. I slip between forms, the pain building each time until I’m clutching at my abdomen as I run.
“Why are you glitching?” Lambert asks, keeping pace easily.
“Someone is trying to control the Arcanaeum’s magical well?—”
“Which means they’d control you.”
The Library is fighting. Its determination is a fierce thing in the back of my mind. “Yes. And we need you and Jasper to leave.”
As if in answer to my prayers, the door to the Restoration Tower opens as I reach it, my Scot bursting through, only to freeze as he catches sight of us. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Someone’s attacking the Arcanaeum, and they’re in the Vault, right?” Lambert assumes, running a hand over runeform on his arm that turns his skin to stone. “We got this.”
“No, you don’t!” I protest, but he’s already racing down the Botanical Hall, Jasper hot on his heels. “Please. Go to Kirkwall. North’s already there?—”
“You think we’d leave you?” Jasper pants, drawing his grimoire. “We’re not going to run away while you’re in danger.”
“This isn’t the time for heroics!” I object as they reach the Rotunda. “The two of you can’t go up against a centuries-old lich who has at least partial control of my power! I need you out of here before I—” My words cut out as I’m forced back to physical form unexpectedly, and then trip. I sprawl forward onto my hands, narrowly catching myself before my face smacks into the tiled floor.
I grimace as I look back, finding the unconscious, shirtless arcanist I just fell over. He’s on his front; head tilted towards us and lips parted on a grimace.
“Leo,” Lambert snarls, dropping to one knee to help me back up. “Did he do this?”
