“Very well. A little lesson won’t hurt us.”
—
AGRIPPA FIDGETED IN HIS TAILS AND nodded at me, the image of patience. He wanted to eat. I wanted to prove myself.
Pouring a bowl of water before my feet, he said, “Lift it into the air and fashion it into an orb.” He yawned, understandably expecting little from this. For whatever reason, water was my trickiest element.
This time, I could feel the power like a second skin. I bent my left knee, and the image formed perfectly in my mind. I concentrated on it, wished for it. I didn’t speak, for I didn’t have to. The water formed, then lowered itself to puddle on the ground.
Agrippa looked surprised. “Erm. That was good.”
“Then let me try something more difficult.” I prepared myself for the fire maneuver.
In an instant, I had a swirling vortex of yellow-and-red flame spinning toward the ceiling. It burned so hot that Agrippa shielded his eyes and dabbed at his forehead with a pocket square. Even in my gown, I found it easy to manage everything. I fell into a sorcerer’s crouch with my left leg stretched outward, and spun the vortex faster and faster. When I flung both my arms wide, it exploded in a flash of bright light.
My powers responded beautifully to my every thought and wish. After so many years living at the mercy of my ability, I’d never imagined that control could feel so wonderful.
Agrippa coughed, swiping at flakes of ash that rained down on his coat.
“What on earth have you been doing?” he said.
“Studying, sir.”
Agrippa began to laugh. “My girl! My dearest girl!” He took my hands in his own. We swung about the obsidian room, much in the way I had celebrated with Hargrove that afternoon. He pulled me close and kissed me warmly upon both cheeks. Pride was written all over his face. I was giddy with happiness, almost drunk with it.
“I knew you could do this,” Agrippa said. Joyful tears glinted in his eyes. “You’ll knock the Whitechurches and Palehooks down a peg.”
“I’m sorry it took me so long.”
“Oh, bother that. We got there in the end, didn’t we?” He lit up with some new thought. “There are advanced techniques we can try. I’ve been teaching a couple of the fellows Russian stave movements. I was going to teach them to Gwendolyn, before she—” He stopped, that old sadness settling on him again.
“I’m so sorry.”
Agrippa shook his head, and the gloom vanished. “Don’t be. Now I’m going to train you, Henrietta. My dear girl.”
I was Henrietta to him at last. I wanted to drum my hands against the blasted obsidian walls, to scream and shout my triumph. He led us out of the room, calling for everyone. When they appeared on the stairs, they looked at us as though we were mad.
“It’s not dinner?” Magnus said, his disappointment evident.
“What’s Howel done now? Set fire to the library by mistake?” Cellini said, heading downstairs. Well, a rude comment deserved a proper response. The spell to channel a gust of wind was quick upon my stave. I blew Cellini down the last three steps, leaving him sprawled and amazed.
Magnus burst out laughing and clapped his hands. “Brilliant! Show us something more!”
I turned to find Blackwood, blank with surprise. I bowed, as one does before a duel. His eyebrows lifted with understanding.
Are you ready? I mouthed. He bowed to me in turn, accepting my challenge. In a flash, we each had a stave in hand. “Use the wind,” I said.
With a perfect movement, he cast a gust of air out like a fishing line, high above my head. It curved downward and struck me in the back, almost toppling me. I’d been purposefully slow to set him at ease. Before he could prepare his second attack, I swirled my stave, moving forward quickly. The wind swept his feet out from under him, and he landed with a grunt on the carpet. He sat up, looking baffled.
“Do you yield?”
Blackwood dusted his sleeves and extended his long, pale hand for mine. “Help me up, Miss Howel.” He smiled faintly.
Everyone started talking at once. Dee was offering himself as the next dueler when Cellini said, “How did you manage it?” He frowned. “You can’t have got that much better that fast.”
“It all suddenly made sense,” I said, keeping my tone light. I’d expected someone would bring this up. Really, my biggest surprise was that it wasn’t Blackwood pointing it out.
Cellini kept at it. “But what happened?”
“Stop complaining,” Magnus muttered, shoving him. “What are you, English all of a sudden?” Everyone chuckled at that, and began talking again. No one was interested in questioning this, to my relief. Feeling playful, I shot a small tongue of fire at Cellini. It exploded in smoke and embers right before his face. He coughed and glared at me. I shrugged. There was no use getting cross with me tonight. I planned on enjoying myself.
Magnus held his stave in the air and cried, “To Howel the sorcerer!” The others joined him, cheering away. Well, all except Blackwood. But he was smiling. As the boys rejoiced, Magnus put his lips to my ear and whispered, “You’re one of us now.”
—
THAT NIGHT, WHILE THE UPSTAIRS RESOUNDED with laughter and song, I snuck away from the celebration and ran down to the stables to find Rook. Perhaps it was the high of victory, but even the stables appeared transformed in some strange way. The world around me was reborn.
He was in the middle of rubbing down a horse when I knocked on the stall door. The animal nosed my hair, attempting a graze. Giggling, I waved my friend out and flung my arms around him.
“We’re saved,” I whispered. All the awkwardness between us melted away. It was as if our last argument had never occurred.
“I wish I’d seen it,” he said, twirling me about in a circle. “Can you tell me how you managed it?”
“One day, when this is all over, I swear I’ll give you every detail. It may surprise you.” Rook set me down. He looked wonderful. His eyes were bright, and I’d never seen him wear such a carefree smile.
“What?” He laughed, noticing my stare.
“Forgive me, but…you look so happy.”
“Then I look as I feel,” he said, picking me up by the waist. I mock-shrieked as he set me atop a saddle and returned to his work. “When a night’s sweet like this, how could I do otherwise? You’ll be commended, the greatest sorcerer of the age.”
“Second-greatest, to hear Magnus talk of himself,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Well, you’ll fight him for it. And to top it all off, my pain’s gone.”
“No!” I jumped off the saddle. “Gone completely?”
“Haven’t felt a twinge in days. Do unmarked people always feel this good? If so, how do they ever find the time to be angry?”
“This is the most wonderful news! It’s the medicine Lord Blackwood described, isn’t it? He’ll never let me forget this great favor of his.”
“Have no fear,” Rook said with a grin. “You owe him nothing. I’ve stopped taking the medicine.”
“What?” My smile faded. “Then how do you suppress the shadows?”
“Oh, I don’t,” he said. “See?” He waved behind himself as illustration, and I understood.
Upon my arrival, I’d thought that the stables’ different appearance was due to my excitement. Now I realized that half the yard lay cloaked in deep shadow. Not even the strong light of the moon could penetrate it. The horses were more silent than usual, standing watchful in their stalls.
“Don’t worry,” Rook said, his voice soothing. “I do it when no one’s about. It keeps me in good practice.”
“But I thought the shadows came only when the scars hurt.”
“So did I, but the most extraordinary thing happened. Just as I was going to ask Mr. Fenswick for the new potion, the pain stopped. For the first time since I can remember, the suffering left. Do you see? I hurt because I couldn’t use my power.”
Rook was no longer living in the prison of his own body. Tears blurred my vision as I
wrapped my arms about him.
“Why are you crying?” he whispered.
“I’m so happy,” I sobbed, pressing my cheek to his chest. His heartbeat was loud and steady in my ear.
“Now I have everything,” he muttered into my hair. The air between us seemed to crackle with energy. It occurred to me that all I had to do was raise my head, and something would happen. I felt that he was waiting for me to grant permission. And though I’d promised myself no complications, I found I was slowly tilting my chin….
But the darkness was behind me. It was touching my skirt. It was reaching for me. It was wrong—
“I need to go back upstairs.” I broke from him so suddenly that he nearly tipped over. Part of me was screaming to stay; most of me had the uncontrollable urge to run. “The boys and Master Agrippa will wonder where I’ve gone.”
“Of course.” He didn’t sound put out in the slightest. “There’s time for talk later, after you’re commended.” Rook smiled at me.
His eyes were pure black.
You must get used to it. It’s his power, the same way fire is yours, I thought. For the first time, he’s free.
“I’ll come see you later,” I said, forcing a smile. Rook turned back to his work, whistling as he did so. Going inside the kitchen, I sat on a bench and passed my hand before my eyes. Honestly, I was acting like a child. Today I’d been given everything I could have ever asked for, and here I was, worrying. If Rook’s pain was finally gone for good, then that was worth everything.
Yet I couldn’t help but shudder as I returned to stand in the doorway and watch him at work, singing while the shadows ebbed and flowed about his feet.
The midnight bells chimed as Magnus and I skirted the edge of the ward, scanning the dark streets beyond the protective shield. “So you don’t believe,” Magnus said, “that the Ancients are demons from hell?”
“No. Medieval mystics described a fifth element, ether, that they claimed was kept from our eyes only by the thin skin of reality. Many held to those beliefs until they were declared heresy. Perhaps Howard Mickelmas and Mary Willoughby opened a portal into that fifth element.”
“Never thought so practical a lady would accept such mystical theories.”
I obviously couldn’t tell him I’d discussed said theories with Hargrove. “Then where do you suppose such huge carnivorous beasts came from? Portugal?”
“I suppose your theory is better than the archbishop’s belief that our Ancients are the seven deadly sins made flesh.” He shuddered. “Is that great blob Molochoron the embodiment of Lust? Truly, nothing makes me more excited than the sight of moldy jelly.”
I laughed. “I read an article by Blackwood’s father, actually, about that seven-deadly-sins idea. He called those beliefs hogwash. Did you know he was the first to name them Ancients in print?”
“Yes, Blackwood’s father was a great sort. Pity the son’s such a grim sort.” Magnus swiped at the ward, creating a line of sparks. I frowned, pressing my hand to the surface. It gave, almost like rubber. For a while it had been firm again, but now it was getting worse, and fast. Agrippa had brushed it off when I’d mentioned it, but I continued to worry.
“We shouldn’t be so harsh. I think he has a great deal on his mind.” Since our discussion in the library, my relationship with Blackwood had improved. The angry, hateful thoughts I’d had about him now made me uncomfortable.
“There’s his brooding lesson at dawn, followed by instructional despair at teatime.” Magnus walked backward to look me in the face. “I didn’t imagine you’d be so masochistic as to like someone who dismissed your lowly birth.”
“Don’t say it out loud!” Really, I told Magnus too much these days. He looked about dramatically.
“No one nearby. Though perhaps we should turn back. Our shift is near done.” We turned and started walking the way we’d come. All Incumbents took turns patrolling the ward as part of the training. It had been three weeks since my triumph before Agrippa, and I was now allowed to participate in all areas of Incumbent life. Before, it would have been unthinkable for me to go about with Magnus unchaperoned in the middle of the night. That no one objected proved that people had begun to take my abilities seriously. Perhaps I was finally stepping out of Gwendolyn Agrippa’s shadow. “I wouldn’t blame you for getting a bit soft, of course. Blackwood is the Earl of Sorrow-Fell. Most girls would give their eyeteeth to claim that prize.”
I groaned, the only appropriate response to such an idea. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m here to be commended, not to catch a husband.”
“But it would be so nice to check both off your list at once, wouldn’t it?”
“First of all, I wouldn’t marry Lord Blackwood if he were the prince of plenty. I don’t dislike him anymore, but that’s hardly a love written in the stars.”
“Very nice. What’s the second-of-all?”
“I’ll never marry. No man could want me in battle, and I wouldn’t want anyone who might keep me away from my duty.”
“Don’t be so hasty to rule out gentlemen’s understanding,” Magnus said. “There are some who admire a capable girl. One of them might be closer than you think, if you’d take the time to notice what’s before you.” He leaned closer. For a second, I didn’t dare breathe. Since our moment in the library, Magnus had returned to his old, harmless flirtation. I’d half hoped it would stay that way. He sighed gently and said, “Can’t you see the way Palehook looks at you?”
He laughed. I was so relieved that I joined him.
“So who should I marry?”
“Someone confident, charming, insanely handsome, brilliant, who dances well and who can order the correct wine with any dish. Also, make sure he owns a horse. There’s no use marrying if you don’t have a horse. You’ll have to travel to your honeymoon on the back of a turnip cart.” He sheathed his stave. “Enough marriage talk. What say we pop round the coffee stalls at Covent Garden?”
Before I could respond, a scream pierced the darkness.
We pressed our hands against the invisible wall to peer into the streets. After a minute, the scream came again, high and wailing. It sounded like a little girl.
Magnus sliced through the barrier without a moment’s pause. I grabbed his shoulder. “We need to wait for the others.”
“It could be too late if we do.” He stepped through and ran in the direction of the cry. Idiot. Well, he was going nowhere without me. I shot three streams of fire into the air and waited until I heard the watch bell toll. Someone would come. Satisfied, I followed Magnus.
He’d disappeared. My echoing footsteps were a lonely sound as I ran along the empty street. I began to think this was a bad plan, then the child screamed again. Down an alley to the left, I found the little girl, pale, thin, ragged, and all alone. I crouched beside her.
“Are you all right? Where’s your mother?”
She shook her head. I noticed that her right fist was clenched. When I opened it, I found myself staring at a bright new guinea. How on earth did she have so much money?
“Sorry ’bout this,” the little girl whispered. With that, she turned and ran.
Something struck me on the back of the head. Porridge rolled away from me as I fell forward and skinned my palms on the ground. Hands grabbed me by the hair, pulling me to my feet. Black figures loomed. Someone kicked me in the stomach. My breath left me in a rush, the pain so intense I crumpled into a ball. Struggling pathetically to breathe, I heard them mutter to one another.
“Make it quick.”
“Not yet. Bloody her up a bit first.”
The voices. They were horribly familiar.
As I unfolded myself, a boot struck me in the side. Sparks and stars danced on the edges of my sight. Bile flooded the back of my throat. I swung wildly, blindly, trying to fend them off.
“Where’s the knife?”
A startled third voice: “What? We’re not going to kill her, are we?”
I knew that voice. Hands reached for me.
&nbs
p; Flames rippled over my body. A boy screamed as I crawled forward on my stomach, still burning, daring someone to touch me again. There was a cacophony of footsteps, racing toward and running from me. In my confusion, it seemed that footsteps pounded along the walls. Somewhere, Magnus shouted, “You filthy bastard!”
Now I caught the sounds of struggle, of men at each other’s throats. My vision seesawed from one bizarre angle to the next as Magnus threw someone to the ground. Sitting up, I found an unconscious Lovett sprawled beside me. There was a cut across his forehead, bleeding fresh.
“Bastard,” I gasped, my voice a strange wheeze. I clawed at him, shook him, but he didn’t wake up. Above, Magnus struggled with someone else. I expected to see Hemphill as I turned my head.
Cellini hung in Magnus’s grasp, a smear of blood beneath his nose. Something fell out of his hand and clattered across the ground. A knife.
My stomach rippling, I fell to my hands, heaved, and vomited. My head throbbed. Cellini couldn’t be here. He couldn’t have attacked me. He was my friend. He was one of us.
“Why?” I moaned. Cellini breathed heavily while Magnus held him by the collar, dumbfounded.
“I don’t understand.” Magnus’s voice was small.
Cellini began to cry. “It had to be done. Don’t you see?”
“Give me some excuse.” Magnus’s voice was pleading. “You don’t really want to hurt her. They forced you.”
Cellini’s normally handsome face twisted in rage. “You choose her over us. Over your own kind. Can’t you see how freakish she is? Or are you always this soppy once you get them on their backs?”
It was like he’d kicked me again.
Magnus punched him. There was a gurgling cry, and Cellini spit blood onto the ground. One white tooth lay gleaming in the gore. Undeterred, Magnus continued the vicious beating, all traces of his humor gone. I hadn’t thought him capable of such fury. Cellini’s face began to resemble a slab of bloody meat.
Crawling to my knees, I grabbed Magnus’s arm. “Stop,” I gasped. “Let the Order deal with him.”
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