Renegade Magic

by Burgis, Stephanie

  “Continue, Kat,” Mr. Gregson said. “I think I am beginning to see. So the magic that was supposed to have exploded by now has instead been divided—”

  “Exactly. That’s why the sacrifice hasn’t been completed yet, and why the bath hasn’t started boiling for Sulis Minerva yet, either. They’re both only half there.”

  “Ah—forgive me, my dear, but that chanting is still continuing,” Papa said. “Do you think, perhaps …”

  “Exactly,” I said. “It’s gaining power, even though it’s been divided. And as soon as the power’s strong enough for both the circle and Lucy-Minerva—”

  Breath hissed through Mr. Gregson’s teeth. “I see,” he said. “Yes. So, we have very little time.”

  “Charles,” Papa said. He was staring at the circle. “You mean, Charles will be—”

  “Sacrificed,” I said. “Yes.”

  “But why?”

  I looked at Mr. Gregson. “Last night all the power came roaring up from the Source,” I said. “Remember? Because we were there, it tried all of us, but settled on Lucy as the easiest.”

  “Yes …” He frowned. “Good God. So whoever is managing this final, most drastic ritual—”

  “Will be waiting in the same place you waited last night,” I said. “The primary outlet for the Source. And he’ll be waiting alone, to make sure that no one else takes the magic this time.”

  “Good God,” he repeated. “Good God. Yes. Indeed. We must hurry.”

  “Where are we going?” Papa said.

  “To the Source,” I said. “And then—”

  I stopped. Lady Fotherington had moved to block us. Her chin was raised, her eyes wild.

  “None of you are going anywhere,” she said.

  Twenty-Seven

  “Lydia,” Mr. Gregson began, “what—?”

  “You must all stay exactly where you are until Lord Ravenscroft arrives to deal with you himself,” she said. Her figure was so rigid, it was positively vibrating. “I am the only loyal Guardian here, and I cannot allow—”

  “This is nonsense!” Mr. Gregson said. “Of course we shall all meet with Lord Ravenscroft later, but in the meantime, we must work quickly. If we are to prevent a truly monstrous magical rite and the death of an innocent young man—”

  “She doesn’t want to prevent it,” I said. I looked at Lady Fotherington’s beautiful face, and I wondered what had taken me so long. “Haven’t you realized yet? She’s helping him.”

  “‘Him’?” Papa said.

  Lady Fotherington only pressed her lips together. But her glare could have scorched skin.

  “Why do you think she was here in the first place?” I said. “She was left here as a guard to keep all the rest of us away from the Source. She knows who’s in there, and she’s working as his assistant.”

  “I am not anyone’s ‘assistant,’” Lady Fotherington snapped. “Of all the impudent—”

  “Dear God,” Mr. Gregson said. He took a step backward, as if the news had been an actual, physical blow. “After all these years of loyalty and service—Lydia, how could you?”

  “I am loyal!” she said. “I am the only one here who is still truly loyal. That is exactly why—” She stopped, her face tightening as she cut herself off.

  But I knew how her sentence should have ended. I nodded. “Of course,” I said. “I should have seen it before.” I turned away from her, to Mr. Gregson. “She really does think she is loyal,” I said. “You see, she’s following orders.”

  “Orders? But—”

  “You were wrong when you said Lord Ravenscroft didn’t know she was here tonight.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Don’t you?”

  His eyes widened behind his spectacles. “No,” he said. “No. That simply isn’t possible. Lord Ravenscroft—”

  “Lord Ravenscroft told you he was in Clifton yesterday morning, when I actually saw him coming out of the Baths,” I said. “Lord Ravenscroft was angry that you had gone to the Baths yourself to investigate the wild magic. He was the one whose footsteps you heard when you were waiting by the outlet from the Source last night—it was because you were waiting there, against his orders, that he couldn’t be there himself to see the results of his experiment. Lord Ravenscroft wanted me pacified and my mind broken the moment I discovered the very first hints of what he had been planning.”

  “But …” Mr. Gregson trailed off. His pale eyes looked suddenly lost and vulnerable. “That isn’t … that simply couldn’t be …”

  “Don’t listen to her!” Lady Fotherington said. “She’s warping the truth, the way she always does. She’s the one who’s done all this. She set up these rites—she did everything! Lord Ravenscroft is only trying to make things right, to fix the magical imbalance she caused. He can’t do it with anyone else fussing around him. That’s why he came tonight—why he trusted me to keep everyone away from the primary outlet for the Source—”

  “Oh, Lydia,” Mr. Gregson said softly. He sighed and took off his spectacles to wipe them with his handkerchief. His face, for once, showed all of his age, reminding me that he was even older than Papa. “Do you truly believe any of this, I wonder? Or have you been working with him all along?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “We’ll figure all of that out later, but right now we have to hurry. She can’t hold both of us back, so …” I stopped. Mr. Gregson was shaking his head. “What is it?”

  “We cannot,” he said.

  I stared at him. “You said yourself—”

  “You and I alone cannot stand against Lord Ravenscroft. Even if Lydia were to change her mind and aid us, his lordship’s power would still be too great for us to fight.” My former tutor’s face was grave. “You’ve felt it before. You know that what I say is true.”

  “So you want to just let him get away with it?” I was breathing hard. “You think we should just stand here and let him—let Charles be sacrificed?”

  “We need reinforcements before we can act,” Mr. Gregson said. “I will be back as soon as I possibly can. I must gather more Guardians together—enough to stand against him, once they are presented with the evidence of his wrongdoing. If we all work together, we just might be able—”

  “Charles will be dead by then!” I said. “And Lucy—”

  “I must go now, before any more time can be wasted,” he said. “I wish there was another way, but there is not. Be patient, Kat.”

  “Patient?” My voice rose to a bellow as he put his spectacles back on. “Patient! Of all the—”

  He disappeared, leaving my words unheard and hanging in midair. I let out a wordless shout of rage.

  Lady Fotherington was glaring at me as if it were all my fault, her eyes narrowed into snakelike slits. “I knew you would bring only trouble to our Order,” she hissed, “from the moment I first saw you. Creating havoc, disruption, disloyalty …”

  The insults continued but I ignored them. The chanting was growing louder behind me. No matter what Mr. Gregson said, there was no way I was going to stand here and wait while the ritual was completed.

  “Good-bye,” I said, and started forward.

  “Kat!” Papa grabbed the sopping left sleeve of my pelisse and dragged me to a halt. “Where are you going? That gentleman just said it was too dangerous—”

  “Too dangerous?” I looked up at his worried face and spoke as slowly and carefully as if I were translating into one of his beloved classical languages. “Papa, if I don’t go now, Charles will die.”

  His lanky body sagged. But his eyes remained steady on my face. “If you go, though, you—”

  “I have to go,” I said. “I’m a Guardian. It’s my job to protect Society. Even when Society is made up of a bunch of silly Oxford students.” My voice broke on the last words.

  “You’re only twelve years old,” he said. “You can’t be expected—”

  “I am a Guardian,” I said, and gently pushed his hand off my arm.
r />   He leaned over and pressed a kiss on my damp forehead. “I have already lost your mother,” he whispered. “I cannot lose you, too.”

  Tears pricked at my eyes as he straightened. I tried to speak, but something was choking my throat.

  Papa said, his voice steady, “I will not have either of my children die tonight, Katherine.”

  “I told you—”

  “I understand,” he said. “That is why I am coming with you.”

  “That is quite enough out of both of you!” Lady Fotherington drew herself up to her full height, nearly as tall as Papa. “You cannot imagine that I will allow either of you to pass. Lord Ravenscroft gave me strict instructions. I shall not betray my duty, no matter what wild falsehoods you choose to invent.”

  I looked up at her measuringly.

  I hadn’t yet had my proper training as a Guardian. I didn’t know how to attack someone with magic, the way she had, or how to transport myself to different places, the way Mr. Gregson had. I could defuse every one of her magical attacks, but that wouldn’t get me anywhere. So there was only one option left.

  I lunged forward and grabbed her around the waist in the wrestling hold that Charles had taught me just before Elissa’s wedding.

  “What—in heaven’s name—oh!”

  Her words turned into a scream of outrage as I twisted with my hips. She soared straight through the open doorway. The massive splash almost drowned out her scream as she landed in the steaming water. Sparks of wild magic descended around her.

  Papa’s mouth hung open. I grabbed his arm.

  “Hurry!” I said. “She’ll be out again any moment!”

  We ran together down the corridor, through the rooms full of dripping pumps. I didn’t slow until I found the right doorway. Even if I hadn’t remembered it from last time, I would have known it now. Power gathered behind it, a power that felt like an inescapable magnet to all the sparks of wild magic in the air, drawing them inside.

  Behind that door, waiting to use all that power …

  My feet stopped moving.

  I whispered to Papa, “Won’t you please wait out here? It would be so much safer for you.”

  He didn’t bother to answer. He just looked at me. I sagged.

  I had no strategy, no plan of attack. Compared to Lord Ravenscroft, I had no powers at all.

  But Charles’s life was at stake.

  I put my hand on the door and opened it.

  Twenty-Eight

  The first thing I saw as I walked down the steps into the big, shadowy room was the outlet from the Source. It drew my eyes despite everything else: pure wild magic, to the core. Illuminated only by the light of a small lantern, the dark green water bubbled up from the ground in a steaming rush. There were no beautiful pillars surrounding this pool, no statues or magnificent surroundings. It throbbed with power as it flowed down the plain stone culvert, under the ancient, crumbling Roman wall and past the broken tiles.

  “Good God,” Papa whispered, from the step above me. “An original temple wall. Why did you not tell me, Kat? No wonder …”

  He kept talking, but I didn’t hear a word he said. All my attention had fixed on the figure who stood gazing down into the dark green water. Flanked by piles of rubble and carved Roman stone, Lord Ravenscroft was an incongruous figure in his skintight burgundy coat, golden waistcoat, and elaborately tied cravat. But cold shivers raced across my skin, despite the steaming warmth of the room, as he turned to face us. His greatcoat lay neatly folded on the floor beside him.

  “Ah,” Lord Ravenscroft said. “Miss Katherine.” He lifted his quizzing glass to his left eye. His voice was calm—even amused—but all traces of his fashionable lisp had disappeared. “I thought I felt your powers nearby. Still unpacified, I see. Gregson will pay for that, in time.”

  “You’ll see him sooner than you think,” I said. I couldn’t force my voice not to wobble, but I lifted my chin up to look straight into his hideously magnified gaze. “He knows what you’ve done, and he’s gone to fetch more Guardians to stop you. They’ll be here any minute.”

  “Will they?” He smiled and lowered the quizzing glass. “And what do you imagine they will be able to do to me when they arrive?”

  “You’re not stronger than the entire Order,” I said.

  “Not yet,” he said. “But I will be soon. And I won’t be staying in England to bother with them, anyway.”

  “You won’t?” I stared at him, caught off balance. I didn’t know why he hadn’t attacked me yet, or silenced me. “Why would you leave England? Where would you go? We are at war with France, you know. It isn’t safe to travel.”

  The door flew open behind me.

  “Aha!” Lady Fotherington cried. I heard her panting as she ran down the stairs behind me. I couldn’t see her, but I felt her power fly at me, arrowing down in a tight, fast attack.

  I pulled up my own power and threw it back at her. Her magic-working exploded in midair. We both staggered with effort.

  It was Papa who answered me. “I believe I understand,” he said. “This gentleman—Lord Ravenscroft, I presume?”

  Lord Ravenscroft bowed mockingly.

  “I believe, my dear, he must be a spy for the French.”

  “A what?” said Lady Fotherington.

  “I am nothing so common as a mere spy,” said Lord Ravenscroft. “I have never been so vulgar as to read other people’s private letters, nor have I yet given privileged information to Napoleon Bonaparte.”

  “Well, of course not,” Lady Fotherington said. “Of all the outrageous—”

  “Not yet,” I said. I was watching Lord Ravenscroft. “But you are going to France, aren’t you?”

  He didn’t answer, but a smile played about his thin lips.

  Lady Fotherington said, “Sebastian, tell her she is speaking nonsense. Of course she is speaking nonsense!”

  “You needn’t worry, my dear Lydia,” Lord Ravenscroft said. He smiled indulgently at her. “I shall not leave you here to face the wrath of the Order on your own. I will be very glad of your companionship on the journey. Indeed, I believe you will find much to your liking in the change of scene. After all, secondhand Parisian fashions are nothing in comparison to the real thing, are they?”

  “But—but—” I could hear her quick breathing behind me. “But why?”

  “Do you truly need to ask?” Ruby and emerald rings flashed in the lantern light as he waved one hand, and lace fluttered against his wrist. “Look at us! The most powerful and best-bred people in our kingdom, and yet we’re expected to do Society’s dirty work. Do we even receive any payment for it from our government? Hardly. They expect us to fritter away our time and energy protecting the rest of Society with no reward, as if we were common peasants in their eyes.”

  “We are Guardians,” I said. “That is our reward.”

  Lord Ravenscroft snorted. “You’re old enough not to be so naive. I saw you staring at my rings earlier today. Are you going to pretend you didn’t notice that the stones had been replaced by glass?” His face drew into a snarl. “My father may have been kind enough to pass on his title—and what he called ‘our magical responsibility’—but he didn’t bother leaving enough money to live up to a gentleman’s standards, or to pay for even half my wardrobe. Do you really expect someone like me to settle for a life spent pawning real gems for false, all the while smiling and pretending not to care?”

  He looked past me to Lady Fotherington. “You know the welcome Bonaparte will give us. All the old French Guardians were slaughtered in their Revolution, and the commoners with talent have no training. When we arrive, bearing the wild magic of England itself, ripe for use in an invasion …”

  “You, my lord, are a traitor,” said Papa. “I am ashamed of Oxford for having produced you.”

  “And you,” said Lord Ravenscroft, “must be George Stephenson. I have read your work. We shared the same tutor at Oxford, you see, although I studied Classics with him some time after you had shocked all your
colleagues by abandoning your Fellowship for your scandalous marriage. In fact, you may be pleased to know that I used one of your own treatises as the basis of the rites I devised.”

  “You drew my own son into it,” Papa said. “How dare you even speak to me?”

  I was too confused to say a word. Lord Ravenscroft still hadn’t attacked us. Why hadn’t he attacked?

  Then I saw his gaze slip to the bubbling pool beside him, and I understood. He was distracting us. All he had to do was wait for the rites to be complete and the power to come flowing up from the Source. But to ensure that the wild magic came only to him, he needed to use his full Guardian powers. He couldn’t afford to waste them on us when the magic might explode at any moment.

  All he was waiting for was Charles’s death.

  I set my jaw. There was only one sensible thing I could do, no matter how much I hated it.

  I turned to face my mother’s nemesis, the woman I hated more than anyone else in the world.

  Lady Fotherington was dripping onto the stone floor. Steam rose off her wet skin. Her beautifully arranged black hair was a wet, slimy mess, and her elegant gown hung, ruined, about her limbs. I doubted the silk would ever recover. She was staring at Lord Ravenscroft and, for once, completely ignoring me.

  I said, “You have to help us.”

  She didn’t even turn her head to look at me. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I know you’re loyal,” I said. “You can’t let him betray the Order—and not just the Order, but all of Britain! You have to help me stop him. You’re a Guardian. It’s your duty.”

  Lord Ravenscroft smiled, serenely unbothered by my words. “This is exactly what you’ll be escaping when you come with me, Lydia. Bonaparte will let us establish our own new Order, with entrance requirements set by you and me. There will be no more old-fashioned rules dragging us down. No more nitpicky Aloysius Gregsons to enforce them. No more wild Olivia Ambersons or insolent Katherine Stephensons. You shall be in charge of choosing our first members, and we shall accept none that you dislike.”