In fact, unmanaged fear is almost always the mechanism through which powerful and influential tyrants rise to power. Dress it up as anger, as the need to protect good, adept familiesfrom necromancers and liches, and the well-meaning will sleepwalk into Mathias’s new world order with pride.
Jasper frowns. “In all that time, have you ever seen better come from people being kept in the dark by their leaders?”
Turning away, I concede his point with a shrug. “I can’t say I have.”
Yet, I can’t say that I’ve ever seen such a thing as a truly transparent system of governance either. Is he too optimistic, or am I too much the opposite?
Likely, the truth lies somewhere in the middle, as usual.
“How—” He clears his throat. “How long do I have?”
“I’ll summon the parriarchs tomorrow. The Arcanaeum will be closed for the morning to minimise the risk of the meeting being overheard, but I doubt it will keep any of you out. It’s quite fond of you.”
It’s not the only one.
For all that he was just urging action, he bites his lip a second time at the news. “Fine. After that, I’m stealing you for our date.”
Forcing the corners of my lips up into a smile, I nod my acceptance. “See you tomorrow.”
He knocks on the nearest door, glancing over his shoulder as he crosses the threshold into a cosy kitchen. I offer him a quiet nod, watching until he’s gone before releasing a long sigh. Unfortunately, there’s one more difficult thing to be dealt with before I can call this a night.
Twenty-Six
Kyrith
“I’ve put this off for too long,” I mumble to myself as I sink down through the floor of the Rotunda.
The Vault is cold, and the spire pulses with a strange kind of welcome as I manifest in the atrium.
Everything in me roils with anxiety. A fine tremor settles between my shoulder blades as I look down at the altar.
Someone has cleaned it—probably the Arcanaeum. There’s nothing left to hint at what happened here. No blood. No rust on the shackles.
On the surface, in one of the grooves meant for a necromancer’s grimoire, is the dagger. Gleaming and bright. My would-be murder weapon.
I extend my hand towards it, only to draw it back again at the last second. This is absurd. There’s no reason for me to be afraid of the literal heart of the building.
Only there is, because the heart of the Arcanaeum also almost killed me.
I’ve had plenty of time to think over the chain of events.To match Benny’s theory exactly. The loop must’ve been cast to encompass the twenty-four hours just before my magic merged with the building. My ghostly manifestation was affected, but my mind remained my own. My body remained frozen, but that might be more due to whatever transmutation spell turned it to crystal, since I still experienced the same emotions and the dreadful punch of pain.
My magic must have been exempt to some degree. The Arcanaeum couldn’t risk its magical well being torn apart as I relived the merging over and over. The second the blade pierced flesh, I had to be freed.
At least that spared me reliving my banishment of the parriarchs.
I still don’t understandhow. I doubt I ever will. No arcanist in history has ever cast a chronological manipulation spell, let alone one of this magnitude, and without a runeform. If I knew the spire’s purpose, maybe that would give more insight. The dagger must have functioned much like a grimoire, creating a channel for magic and intention. It’s tethered to the Arcanaeum’s magic, which explains why Benny believes Mathias will be able to enter if he gets his hands on it.
As such, it needs better protection than simply lying here, where anyone could take it.
But where to hide it…?
Without giving myself time to chicken out a second time, I snatch the blade up, then pause.
It’s warm, pulsing. Almost…endearingly so.
Nothing at all like I expected it to be. My muscles lose a little of their stiffness, frown easing. No matter what it was used for, this is a vital part of my oldest friend. I’ll keep it safe.
I cast around the room. On one hand, the Vault is the most secure place in the Library. On the other, it’s exactly where anyone would expect me to keep the heart.
