Chapter 38

Thirty-Eight

Jasper

“ D o you have to go?” Ma asks, as I shrug my jacket on. “I get worried whenever you leave us now.”

I offer her a gentle smile. Honestly, my family seems more affected by my captivity than I do. They hover around me like I might disappear if they let me out of their sight.

“I’ll be back in a couple hours,” I promise her, like I’m twelve and not pushing thirty. “Besides, Kyrith kept me safe before.”

“Never trusted that Librarian,” she murmurs. “What did she get out of it, huh? Meddling in family business?”

“It was her collector who found me,” I remind her, checking my new phone—which is a lot slimmer than the one I had ten years ago—one last time before putting it on the table and leaning in to kiss her.

“Talcotts,” Ma says like it’s a curse but tugs me down and presses a tub of something into my hands. “Your grandfather would’ve had a heart attack, just like he did when you two started hanging around one another as bairns. Here, share those with him. Maybe they’ll sweeten him into a respectable lad.”

Shaking my head, because no amount of homemade tablet is going to turn Dakari into anything close to respectable, I offer her an easy grin and head for the stable door.

“ Ad Arcanaeum ,” I say, knocking gently against the unfamiliar dusty green paint.

When I left, the doors were white. Just one of the adjustments I’ve gone through since returning home. Thank magic they left my bedroom untouched.

It takes a second, but it swings wide, revealing the foyer in all its yuletide glory. The decorations have turned from Christmas red to UAA black and gold, and I grin as I wonder what the others will say when they realise I’m joining them next term.

My application was accepted this morning, and I’m hoping Kyrith will tutor me so I can catch up and spend more time with her.

“You okay?” Dakari asks, pushing away from the wall as soon as I cross the threshold.

“Fine.” I brush him off with a grin and offer Ma a wave before the door shuts and I can finally slump. “Relieved, to be honest. They won’t stop fussing over me.”

“Your family always were good people.”

“She made you tablet.” I hand him the box. “It’s supposed to sweeten you into someone respectable.”

He snorts, leading the way through the main doors and down Botanical Hall towards the Rotunda. “Good old Mama Dee. Fixing the reprobates of the world one candy at a time.”

“She wouldnae have to try so hard if you just settled down. You could move up north with us. They’d grumble, but you’re my saviour. They love you really,” I say, only half-jokingly, but he brushes me off with a grunt.

“Kyrith already offered me an obscene amount of money to make sure I could find somewhere safe to call home.”

“She wants you to move out?” I suppose the Arcanaeum isnae really a hostel.

His mouth twists, but he just shrugs. “It was a weird conversation.”

I want to ask more, but the room that’s become a mini cinema of sorts is right there, and the second we enter, my gaze lands on Kyrith. Thoughts tend to flee when she’s in my vicinity, and tonight is no exception. Magic, she looks so cute and cosy with a blanket hovering over her lap and Lambert’s jacket around her shoulders.

She seems more translucent than usual, but I think that might be the brightness of the wisplights decorating the place, and as I step into the room, she offers me a soft smile.

It’s a sweet picture. I want to join her under the blanket and snuggle her, only to have her order me to slip under it and eat her out while she watches the game.

It’s a compelling fantasy, but it would only end in disaster.

“I was gifted something today that I think will help with your magic,” she says, in place of hello. “I’d like to try it before the game starts, since we have time.”

There’s a melancholy touch to her expression that makes me frown, but she’s holding onto the book like it’s a shield, so I’m not sure she’d take well to me pushing her. She’s been a wee bit distant since she blew my brains out and then ran off. I’m trying not to let her obvious regrets bother me, but it’s hard when what we shared was a damned-near spiritual experience—no pun intended.

So instead of asking why she looks like she’ll break at the next fragile wind, I nod and settle onto the sofa beside her. “Sure.”

“I’ve gone over the runeforms a hundred times,” she babbles, like she’s nervous. “Everything looks correct and?—”

“He’s not Leo,” Dakari tells her. “You shouldn’t let that prick knock your confidence.”

Wait. What did Leo do?

“As if I would.” She sticks her nose up, defensiveness falling off her in waves. “But this spell is a new one, and Jasper’s been gone a while. His family might?—”

“They haven’t found anything that will fix it.”

My magical well is healing, but slowly. If she can give me this little bit of normalcy back, it’ll make joining the UAA next semester much easier. Perhaps it will even trigger my elusive memories from the last ten years.

Halinor wasn’t impressed when I told her I had no idea what went on for all that time. She wants justice, and to make an example of whoever took me to protect the clan. If she goes after Carlton and they weren’t the perpetrators… or they have allies we don’t know about…

It would be bad.

The book in Kyrith’s hands falls open on a page with a complex runeform. I recognise a lot of it—restoration magic remains perfectly familiar to me even if I can’t use it without damaging myself right now—but some of the constellations contained in the magical geometry are outside of my purview.

In seconds, a sheet of thickened paper appears, the runeforms for preservation and strengthening already written in the corners.

Oh. She doesn’t have a grimoire, so she’s working on the equivalent of a reinforced scrap. My face falls, because I can’t imagine life without the tan book currently holstered against my leg, but she misinterprets my expression as doubt.

“Ready?” She double checks, as the spell copies across.

I give her my best smile. “Sure. I trust you.”

More than anyone, except perhaps the arcanist at my side. Kyrith and Dakari have been there for me since I woke up. I really do need to find a way to repay both of them.

She starts chanting, but I can’t pay attention to that because her blanket has slipped with the loss of concentration. Are her skirts…?

Magic slithers under my skin, glowing golden on the page, before winding up in a trail of smoke that goes straight for my fingertips. It makes sense. Arcanists draw power through their hands by force of habit, so the pathways there are already well established. Air hisses through my clenched teeth as the sensation of using magic returns after so long but reversed. The closest thing I can compare it to is the opposite of a release. The spell winds up inside me, like a spring, walling up inside my chest until the pressure is pulsing at my ribcage.

“You good?” Dakari asks.

I can’t speak without unclenching my jaw, but I jerk my chin down in a nod. It’s not painful, just…crushing. Like she’s forcing the energy inside me to rebuild the walls around it by pure will.

Still, it takes a long time. Longer than I think I can stand it.

When she’s done, I fall forward, catching myself at the last minute as I try to breathe through the retreating strands of her magic. Or is it the Arcanaeum’s magic? I don’t know.

The paper she was using has warped, and as I watch, it disintegrates through her lap and onto the blanket below.

Which just draws my focus back to the cracks. I don’t think Dakari has noticed them, but Kyrith hastily drags the thick fleece back up and over her skirts before I can say anything. Followed quickly by Lambert’s jumper floating back over her shoulders.

When I meet her eyes, she gives me the subtlest wee shake of her head.

She doesn’t want anyone to know?

I shift closer, but not close enough to touch her, in silent support as her motives become painfully obvious.

Offering Dakari money. Pushing us all away. Trying a Hail Mary to fix my magical well.

Those are the actions of someone who doesn’t think she’ll be around much longer and is trying to put things in order.

“Kyrith,” I begin. “Lass, are you…”

But she hushes me, muttering a divination spell under her breath as she focuses intently on my chest.

“It’s repairing itself,” she finally says, leaning back like she didn’t just perform an incredibly complex master-level spell. “With any luck, by the time you go home, you’ll be entirely healed.”

She jolts like she’s just remembered something. “Oh, and Eddy has designated a time for gift opening.”

Shit. I didn’t get her a gift. From the look on Dakari’s face, he didn’t either.

“How’s that going to work with your…” Dakari asks, trailing off.

“Don’t let me stop you.” She waves her hand. “Celebrations are for the living, anyway. In my time, we didn’t do gifts. Just feasting.”

I suppose that makes sense. Still, looking at the pile of gifts in the corner makes me feel a little guilty. Maybe I can sneak her a book or something later?

“Hey! You should’ve grabbed me when everyone arrived,” Eddy complains, bouncing into the room in a bright red festive dress covered in tiny candy canes. “Is the game starting yet? How late am I?”

She takes the spot on the other side of Kyrith with a grin and looks expectantly at Dakari who sighs before heading over to fulfil his assigned role as projectionist.

Until Leo slips into the room, causing the bigger man to freeze and cross his arms over his chest.

“Out.”

The growl in Dakari’s voice is so deep and deadly that even I want to run.

“No, it’s okay,” Kyrith interrupts. “Let’s just watch the game.”

“He treated you like?—”

“I’m aware that what I said was out of line.” Leo drops into his seat smoothly. “You don’t need to rehash it for the masses.”

“You’re not even apologising,” Dakari points out.

“He doesn’t need to,” Kyrith insists. “Just…set up the projector, please. Emotions were high. It’s not like he has to worry about hurting my feelings.”

Eddy straightens, her eyes narrowing to slits. “Just because you don’t feel the same way we do, doesn’t mean those feelings aren’t valid. If that dumbass hurt you, he can eat his words and apologise or leave your home.”

Kyrith blinks, then does it again, apparently unable to compute. She’s not the only one.

“What do you mean, she doesn’t feel like we do?” Is Eddy falling for her too?

Not that I’m falling for—Oh, fuck it. I’m not in the habit of lying to myself. If Kyrith was alive, I’d have stumbled and blushed my way through asking her out by now.

North’s twin snorts at the expression on my face. “Not like that, idiot. Kyrith told me that since emotions have physical sensations associated with them, hers are duller than they used to be, but that still doesn’t give him a right to say whatever he said.”

Her explanation makes a painful kind of sense, and I look at Leo expectantly.

He says nothing.

“ó Rinn accused her of betraying him because I bribed her with sexual favours.” Dakari puts it so bluntly that Kyrith flinches. “And that was after he snapped at her because she warned him his flawed nullification spell wouldn’t work, but he made her do it, anyway, and it activated his curse.”

I’m not one for violence, but I’m about to make an exception. Eddy is already on her feet, looking like she’s ready to conjure a bat to beat in Galileo’s face, but Kyrith holds out a hand to stop us.

“I made a mistake,” Leo admits. “I am sorry, truly. I didn’t mean any of what I said.”

Kyrith won’t even look at him, and that says more than the defeated slump of her shoulders.

“I’m sorry, too. If I could’ve fixed it for you, I would’ve,” she murmurs. “Now, can we please watch the game? Lambert was very excited to play tonight.”

Dakari and Eddy are both stiff with reluctance to let the matter drop, but the former returns to working the projector, spreading open his grimoire and laying one hand on top of it.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Eddy whispers to Kyrith. “I will boot his ass out.”

“I don’t want to argue tonight,” Kyrith replies. “But I appreciate your willingness to defend me.”

Eddy deflates back onto the sofa with a last glare at Leo just as the screen lights up and Dakari takes a seat directly opposite the ó Rinn heir. The cracking of his knuckles is completely unnecessary, but even I can appreciate the intimidating gesture.

Unfortunately, it also adds to the sensation of being locked in the middle of a staring match between a shark and a hawk. The barely leashed violence is there, all talons and teeth, waiting to spill over.

Only Kyrith’s indifference is keeping it at bay.

“Oh, they’ve already started,” she murmurs.

I can’t tell if her interest in the game is real or faked, but either way, it succeeds in lowering the tension a notch.

She’s right, of course. The players are caught in the middle of the game. I frown at the new bandoleer crossed over Lambert’s chest. It’s lined with alchemical bombs, their fragile casings nestled in easy-to-open pouches with scraps poking out in place of fuses.

As we watch he jumps, executing a twist that sends the gamma flying towards the other side before following up with a bomb that soars under the raised net to explode at the opposing team’s feet just as their timekeeper is about to jump after the alpha ball.

Her feet stick, toppling her and one of the scorers behind her.

It’s chaos, and in the midst of it, the alpha’s poison spikes erupt, meaning that the timekeeper’s desperate last-minute bid to catch it ends with it stabbing through her palm. She faints and drops it.

“Who knew?” Kyrith murmurs as we watch the opposing team desperately call on a substitute as the poisoned girl is taken off the court on a stretcher. “He actually can pay attention.”

Leo snorts under his breath, but evidently values his baws enough to keep his mouth shut as Lambert twists to dodge an attack from the other team that has our Librarian leaning forwards.

I hate that she’s so invested in his playing, but for all his faults, he can play magiball. And he makes it entertaining, too. I can almost forgive him, given that he actually coaxes a smile out of my girl when he blows a kiss directly at the VIP box where North is seated.

“Eew,” the Ackland heir mutters under his breath, but the necklace picks it up. “Flirt when I’m not the middleman, you idiot.”

Kyrith doesn’t react, and I wonder if she’s pretending she hasn’t heard it. Still, confirmation that I’m definitely not the only one interested in the ghost tugs at me sharply. Even if it’s impossible, it’s a mite depressing that I’m already out of the hypothetical running.

No one sane would choose me over Lambert Winthrop.

“They’re still on a hundred,” Eddy notes as the other team’s score drops steadily and all the balls speed up as a result of the dropped alpha.

“Lambert’s playing well.” The admission is like pulling teeth. “But he’s a bloody show off. He could’ve won by now if he wasn’t peacocking.”

“He couldn’t have won already,” Eddy corrects. “It’s only been ten minutes.”

“The shortest game in history was thirteen seconds,” Kyrith murmurs absently. “Remember, if the reapers drop the gamma, it’s all over.”

“Oh. Well, hurry up,” she addresses the screen, like Lambert can hear her. “I want to open presents.”

The beta sprays acid then, and for a brief second everyone goes silent as we lose sight of Lambert under the hastily conjured nullification shield one of his teammates throws up.

Then the game is back on.