Had this been Vera’s final move? Had she intended to have Thane killed all along and pin his death on Amorlin?
“How long do we have?” she asked.
Allaster’s face was grim. “A week.”
A week before the fate of the Library was decided by people who knew nothing about it. Vera had a trove of evidence on her side: Allaster’s refusal to admit Kalish mages, Kasira’s impersonation ofEirlana, their defense of Spenshire against the Ryveren. And now Thane’s death. If Vera succeeded, she would oust Allaster, then use Kasira to take control of the Library. Add that to the mages’ turning tide of sentiment and the influence of Elyae’s banishment on Queen Sarren, and it seemed impossible Allaster could ever win.
“Even if the Conclave votes in Vera’s favor, surely you don’t have to abide by it,” she said, seeking another way out. “Magic can’t be taken. What can they do if you won’t abdicate?”
“Plenty,” Allaster replied, and in that one word, she saw endless depths. The nations could unite against the Library. They could imprison Allaster, bury him in a cell so dark and deep and far from Amorlin that his magic would mean nothing. Or they could simply execute him and be done. Even Librarians were not immune to blades.
Something loosened in Allaster’s expression, and he softened, looking as though he wanted to say more. In the silence, May let out a frustrated sigh. “Come, Gievra. The children must speak.”
“May,” Kasira called as she turned to go. “I’m glad you’re all right.”
“And I you,” May replied, before shooting Allaster a pointed look and leading the Alkatir from the room. Kasira reached into the magic between them, ensuring Gievra felt her gratitude before the door closed.
Carefully, she propped herself up higher against the pillows piled against her headboard. “What did she mean?” Kasira asked. A muscle flexed in Allaster’s jaw as he shifted it, working around words as if they were rocks. “Any day now.”
He gave her a flat stare and said, “You are insufferable, do you know that?”
“Years of practice.”
At that, he smiled. A real smile, not the bemused smirk he so often directed at her, and it tugged at something in her chest. At the part of her that had unraveled too many truths today to simply tie them neatly back together.
“I owe you an apology, Kasira,” he said, and there was something about the way his mouth shaped her name that sent a shiver runningdown her spine. “When your identity was revealed, I was angry. And hurt. I’ve never been great at seeing past my own judgements, and I couldn’t see that, although you lied to get here, you stayed, even when you had every opportunity to turn your back on us when things grew dangerous. I’m sorry I couldn’t see that sooner.”
Kasira stared at him, at the curve of his long neck and the tendrils of copper curling along his forehead and the depths of his kohl-lined eyes, and felt something inside break. She wanted to scream, to rage against the world that brought her here, to tear apart the confines of her life that led her into lie after lie, loss after loss.
I became what people wanted of me because who I am has never been enough.
Perhaps May was right, and their lives were set from the day they first drew breath, their destinies carved in bone and steel. Perhaps she could never be anything more than the con artist she had become, destined to weave one falsehood into the next, until she ensnared herself in her own web.
She wanted so badly to find a way to keep all of this. Her freedom, her position, Allaster. But the moment he discovered she had lied to him again, it would be over. He wouldn’t defend her to Vera a second time, not when it turned out Kasira had been working for her the entire time. But she didn’t think she could go through with this anymore.
It wasn’t just him. It was May and Fen and Carlia and Gievra and Iylis and the Library. It was about feeling as though she belonged somewhere for the first time in her life.
There had to be a way out of this, another move on the board. She had only to keep playing, to keep moving forward. She had only to remember who she was, and yet, the more she thought about it, the more certain she became that in the end, she wouldn’t have a choice.
The press of warm skin against her face pulled her from her spiral, and she descended into stillness, into the curve of Allaster’s hand against her cheek. “I thought I’d lost you,” he said quietly, and the ache in those words nearly undid her.
She steeled herself against it and forced a smile. “Well. This mightbe my most successful con yet. I infiltrate the Library, pose as your Assistant, very nearly royally fuck up everything, and yet here you are, apologizing to me.”
Allaster shook his head slowly, his hand sliding to the bed, leaving her yearning for its warmth. “You never cease to surprise me.”
She patted his hand lightly. “You’re welcome. You need a surprise or two, or else you’ll turn into those dusty old tomes you read so often.”
His eyes tracked her hand with a sudden intensity, and she became entirely too aware of the lines of white scars on his skin and the way his palm had turned up slightly, as if to cup her hand in his.
She ought to pull away. She knew that. Yet she didn’t move.
“There’s something I have to tell you,” he said, and her hand tightened on his to silence him. She didn’t deserve whatever truth he wanted to give her, not when he didn’t know what was to come.
“Not yet,” she said. “Tell me when this is over.”
Allaster studied her openly, an emotion she couldn’t place in his too-bright eyes. But he only nodded, his fingers closing around hers as she said, “Until then, we fight.”
PART IV
