Beautiful Chaos (Caster Chronicles 3)

“That’s quite all right, Olivia. The sort of information I’m looking for is not in the books you’ve read. The Far Keep doesn’t provide other Keepers with access to information regarding the origins of the Council. Those records are kept by Casters.” He nodded at Lena, who was already shoving her things into her bag.

“Of course. Yes.” Liv looked hurt. “I can only imagine.”

Macon paused at the door. “Leah, would you mind leaving Bade? I believe Marian could use her company tonight.” Which really meant he didn’t want to leave Marian alone, without a two-hundred-pound bodyguard on the premises.

Leah scratched the big cat’s head. “Not at all. I have to get back to County Care anyway, and they aren’t partial to animals.”

Bade circled the table where we were sitting, finally settling on a spot beside Marian.

Lena looked at me, and I could tell she didn’t want to leave me alone with Liv and Marian, but she didn’t want to let Macon down either. Especially not when he was asking for her help, instead of Liv’s.

Go on, L. It’s fine. I don’t mind.

Her answer was a very public kiss and a meaningful look at Liv. Then they were gone.

After they left, I sat in the archive with Liv and Marian, drawing out the moment as long as we could. I couldn’t remember the last time the three of us were alone together, and I missed it. Liv and Marian tossing around quotes, and me always coming up with the wrong answer.

Liv finally stood up. “I have to go. I don’t want you to get in any more trouble.”

Marian stared into the bottom of her teacup. “Olivia, don’t you think I could have stopped you if I’d wanted to?”

Liv looked like she couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. “You weren’t even there when I helped Ethan release Macon from the Arclight.”

“I was there when you took off into the Tunnels with Ethan and Link. I could’ve stopped you then.” Marian took a shaky breath. “But I had a friend once, too. And if I could turn back the clock—if there was anything I could’ve done to save her—I would have done it. Now she’s gone, and there’s nothing I can do to get her back.”

I squeezed Marian’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” Liv said. “And I’m sorry I got you into so much trouble. I wish I could persuade them to leave you alone.”

“You can’t. No one can. Sometimes everyone does the right thing and there’s still a mess left to clean up. Someone has to take responsibility for it.”

Liv stared at a water-stained box on the floor. “It should be me.”

“I disagree. This is my chance to help another friend, one I love very much.” Marian smiled and reached for Liv’s hand. “And there has to be at least one librarian in this town—Keeper or not.”

Liv threw her arms around Marian and hugged her like she was never going to let go. Marian gave Liv one last squeeze and looked over at me. “EW, I’d appreciate it if you would see Liv back to Ravenwood. If I gave her my car, I’m afraid it would end up on the wrong side of the road.”

I hugged Marian, whispering to her as I did. “Be careful.”

“I always am.”

We had to make a lot of detours to get anywhere in Gatlin now. So five minutes later, I was driving past my own house, with Liv in the passenger seat—like we were on our way to deliver library books or stop at the Dar-ee Keen. Like it was last summer.

But the overwhelming brown of everything and the buzzing of ten thousand lubbers reminded me it wasn’t.

“I can almost smell the pie from here,” Liv said, looking toward my house longingly.

I glanced at the open window. “Amma hasn’t made a pie in a while, but you can probably smell her pecan fried chicken.”

Liv groaned. “You’ve no idea what it’s like living in the Tunnels, especially when Kitchen is out of sorts. I’ve been living on my stash of HobNobs for weeks now. If I don’t get another package soon, I’m doomed.”

“You know, there is a little thing called the Stop & Steal around here,” I said.

“I know. There’s also a little thing called Amma’s homemade fried chicken.”

I knew where this conversation was heading all along and was halfway to the curb by the time she said it. “Come on. I bet you ten bucks she made biscuits, too.”

“You had me at ‘fried.’ ”