“Lambert, go to class.”
I can handle Pierce.
Unfortunately, the Winthrop heir appears to have been struck by a bout of sudden-onset deafness. He deliberately ignores my orders, folding his arms over his broad chest. With a sigh, I shuffle the floor tiles, scooting him out of the way, and almost making him overbalance in the process.
Serves him right.
The Arcanaeum isn’t bristling, but there’s a strange wariness to the way the rafters tense above us. Something about the Carlton heir feels different, though he looks completely unaffected as he ignores the queue of arcanists and strides straight up to the desk.
“Parriarch business, I’m afraid,” he says to the grumbling magister who tries to object, holding up a heavy envelope with swirling black writing on the front.
He doesn’t immediately hand it over, or say anything, just takes in my new outfit with a lazy sweep of his grey eyes. Unfazed, I return his appraisal, noting the black shirt casually rolled up to his elbows and the immaculate waves of his short hair. Perfect as always. So why is the building so…wary?
Eventually, Pierce places the envelope on my desk, sliding it closer to me until his own grimoire, holstered at his hip, bashes against the wood between us.
The building recoils.
Ah, so that’s what it is. The same awful viscous oiliness that coats his sister and mother’s grimoires now clings lightly to his. The book doesn’t look any different, but to the Arcanaeum, it might as well be coated in lard. Notas besmeared as Anthea’s was before I banished her, but still… It's concerning.
Suspicion stiffens my posture as I draw myself up a little taller. I’ve always suspected that the oiliness was a result of the dark magic within, though I’d never voice those thoughts.
Is he dabbling in the forbidden school?
If he is, then I should check on Jasper and Dakari. I know that’s hardly impartial behaviour, but his family is a threat to both of them. The former should be here soon, given that he’s joined the same class, but the latter comes and goes as he pleases.
“Librarian.” Pierce’s tone is cordial, but if the way his smile has soured is any indication, he’s definitely noticed the direction of my stare.
Forcing my eyes away from the book, I answer, “Mr Carlton.”
“This letter is from my parriarch. I’m supposed to return to her with your reply.”
“I’ll tell you where to shove your fecking letters,” Leo interrupts, suddenly rounding my desk from the other side, flanking me. I’m not surprised he’s here, given that he’s in Hopkinson’s class too, but his presence isn’t going to help matters. “You tried to?—”
“Neither Winthrop nor Ó Rinn has the power to speak for the Arcanaeum.” I break the black seal on the back with a wave of my hand and allow the perfectly folded paper to slip free and unfurl on my desk.
I scan the tight, neat penmanship with a deepening scowl.
“Absolutely not. Your parriarch’s demands are based on hearsay and rumour, and she should know better than to listen to either.”
“She expected you’d try to deny it.” Pierce sighs and rests his long fingers on my desk, leaning forward, crowding me. “Every other heir is receiving the benefit of tutoring from theLibrarian. We suspected as much last term when Lambert and the liminal bastard’s grades improved at the same time they began frequenting the Arcanaeum. That could’ve been dismissed as a coincidence, if not for the numerous reports of the others not leaving the library at closing time. Just last week you were seen helping two liminals during opening hours.”
He won’t even say North’s name, and the pens on my desk tremble in anger. This kind of adept superiority is something I absolutely cannot stand, and I let my contempt into my expression as we stare each other down.
“You’re spying on us?” Lambert says, breaking the tension.
Pierce rolls his eyes. “You truly are unfit to be parriarch if that news surprises you.”
Lambert just shrugs as if to say, ‘who cares?’
“Back to the matter at hand,” I say. “You have no proof.”
“You think Ackland’s bastard is well-trained enough not to confess under a truth spell? If you want to force our hand, you can, but why drag this out? It’s unfair that I should be the exception, and youareimpartial, are you not?” He asks the question with a silky innocence that belies the anger darkening his eyes.
My own gaze falls to his grimoire again. If I were physical, I’d probably have broken my jaw with how hard I’m grinding my teeth together.
Only North and Lambert really need tutoring. Leo simply enjoys having access to the Arcanaeum outside of opening hours, and Dakari and Jasper were here because of the Sanctuary. I suppose watching Lambert’s games together has become something of a habit, too…
All of the families have their own spies, but the closeness with which they’re watching the goings on within the Arcanaeum is disturbing. Which of my patrons takes their bribes?
