A Shadow Bright and Burning

by Jessica Cluess

  I dug my hands into the earth. I could distract the Familiars with my ability, but if I did…if Agrippa survived and knew what I was…

  Rook got to his feet and picked up a rock. Running down the hill, he threw it and struck the eyeless rider on the side of her head, knocking her down. Her monstrous friends rushed to tend to her. This gave Agrippa enough time to roll over and grab his stave. Rook shuddered and collapsed.

  The eyeless rider leaped back to her feet, dagger still in hand. Agrippa wasn’t her focus any longer. She turned toward Rook, now lying helpless. With a sneer, she sprang and caught him by the back of his shirt. He fought her, but his movements were slow. The blackness was overtaking him. Agrippa tried to get to them but was caught fighting off the other two monsters. The eyeless Familiar whistled for her stag.

  She was going to take Rook away.

  “No,” I whispered, getting to my feet. Gritting my teeth, I ran forward, my skin hotter than ever before. Fury stoked something deep inside. Power flooded me.

  “Miss Howel, wait!” Agrippa cried.

  “No!” I screamed. My whole body ignited.

  The fire engulfed me, rippling over my clothes, my face, shooting out from my hands. Every inch of my skin tingled, and the blood in my veins seemed to hum. The world fell away around me, until all I could see or feel was fire. The column of blue flame swirled above me while the Familiars wailed. Grass sizzled as I advanced on the eyeless girl, still struggling to pull Rook onto her stag. She bared her teeth and groaned low in her throat. If I touched her now, I somehow knew I’d kill Rook as well. But I’d sooner see him dead than let her take him to God knows where. He would do the same for me.

  “Let him go,” I said, “or I will kill you.”

  She ran a tongue over her cracked lips, deciding. Then, slowly, she released Rook. He dropped to the ground and lay there. The girl turned for one last look at Agrippa, then spurred her stag and took off into the sky. The others joined her. They galloped away, spitting and crying into the storm. When they’d vanished, I felt my whole body relax. The fire died at once. Dark spots danced before my vision. My hands felt numb. But I’d done it.

  My joy was short-lived as Agrippa pointed at me.

  “You,” he said. “It’s you.” He didn’t sound friendly.

  I turned to run. But the moment I stepped forward, the last energy fled my body. I collapsed into the mud, where darkness took me.

  —

  I STOOD BEFORE A FIREPLACE, TRYING to warm my hands. It didn’t work. With a sigh, I studied the pictures on the mantel. Small, exquisitely detailed portraits of a man and a woman. The man had hair and skin as dark as my own, so dark some would mistake him for a gypsy. The woman was soft and fair as a rose petal.

  My father and mother. I never knew them. Father drowned in a boating accident before I was born. Mother perished in childbirth. My aunt Agnes took me into her home, this home. These were the pictures she wouldn’t allow me to take to Brimthorn. Why couldn’t I have them? They were my parents, after all.

  My thin, hollow-eyed aunt appeared beside me. She looked the same now as she had eleven years before, when she’d first brought me to school. The last time I’d seen her.

  “Henrietta, you overspent yourself. Your powers must be governed. Do you understand me?” Odd. She spoke with Master Agrippa’s voice.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “Horrid child,” she snapped. Now she sounded much more like my aunt. She leaned in. “You are a horrid child.”

  “No.” I tried to leave. She grabbed me, pulled me close to her as I struggled. She opened her mouth wide, wider, then wider still. I screamed as I disappeared into the void of her mouth, and Agrippa’s voice came out of the blackness to whisper:

  “I’ve waited for you.”

  —

  I WOKE IN A SMALL, DARK room. A candle burned on the table beside me. Head spinning, I found my feet and staggered to the door. Locked. There was a barred window at my eye level. Peering out, I glimpsed a dim stone corridor.

  This was a prison cell, probably where condemned witches were housed before being taken out to be executed. Agrippa had seen my fire.

  I was going to die. At that moment, with my wretched head throbbing, I took that thought as a comfort. I returned to the bed and closed my eyes.

  Someone cleared his throat, and I bolted upright. Looking about in a panic, I glimpsed two pointed ear tips sticking slightly over the edge of the bed. With a wheezing sound, a tiny creature climbed up the mattress and stood beside me.

  Perhaps I’d already died and been damned to hell; the demon before me was ugly as sin. Its long, twitching ears were rabbit-like, but the rest of the beast resembled a bat more than anything. It scratched its ears with two hands and then brought two more hands out from behind its back to rummage in its coat pockets.

  Yes, the demon wore a coat, a purple coat with a blue silk cravat. It retrieved a glass vial filled with shining liquid from its pocket and tossed it to me. In my hands, it was no larger than a thimble.

  “Now,” it said in a high-pitched voice, “drink that.”

  “Have I died?” I closed a shaking hand around the vial.

  The thing snorted. “Yes, of course. You died, and I’m giving you medicine to keep you dead.” It folded its ears together and down its back in annoyance. “What does Cornelius think you can do for us?”

  “Who is Cornelius?”

  “Cornelius Agrippa. Who are you?”

  “Henrietta Howel. What exactly are you?” Lord, if only my head weren’t pounding.

  “I’m a hobgoblin, cherub. My name is Fenswick.” He bowed, his four arms outstretched in a showy display. “Her Majesty lent me to aid the Order in this war.”

  “Queen Victoria owns hobgoblins?”

  “No one owns me, and certainly not any Victoria. I serve Queen Mab of the dark Faerie court, but doubtless you’ve never met her. Now, drink your potion.”

  Faerie queens. Hobgoblins. I’d gone absolutely mad.

  “Where’s Master Agrippa?” I rubbed my forehead and gasped. “Where’s Rook?”

  “See here,” Fenswick snapped as I tossed the blankets onto his head. I threw the silver vial to smash on the floor, the world spinning before me. Falling to one knee, I caught myself, then stood and ran to bang on the door. My legs buckled.

  “Rook! Help me! Rook!” I cried. Footsteps sounded in the corridor, and someone unlocked the door. I stepped back as Agrippa entered the room, one hand raised as if to calm me.

  “All is well, Miss Howel. Please sit,” he said.

  “Where am I? What’ve you done with him?” I took a faulty step backward and collapsed. The bundle that was Fenswick slid off the bed with a grunt. Agrippa took a chair. The door closed again, and I heard the lock turn. “It’s not my fault.” I was nearly in hysterics. “I didn’t choose to be this way.”

  “Enough now.” He sounded gentle, understanding. I didn’t trust it.

  “I’m no follower of Mary Willoughby!” I said. My head threatened to split in two. “I didn’t choose to be a witch. I don’t want to die!”

  “I’m not going to kill you,” he said, his tone soothing. I wouldn’t believe him. I couldn’t.

  “Where is Rook?”

  “He’s all right. He’s waiting below.”

  “Is he a prisoner, too?” I gripped the side of the bed. “He’s not responsible for any of this.”

  “You’re not prisoners, neither of you. And you’re not a witch, either, Miss Howel,” Agrippa said. He smiled, bemused and, as far as I could tell, delighted. “You’re a sorcerer.”

  Whatever I had been about to say was lost. My mouth hung open, but no words escaped. I blinked. Agrippa might as well have said You are a lost Babylonian princess or You are a rare species of cod. Both made as much sense as my being…I couldn’t even think the word. While I sat there, Fenswick extricated himself from the blankets and stomped over to Agrippa.

  “You don’t want this one,” he said, waving his fou
r arms at me. “I can’t believe you had me travel all the way from London through the Undergrowth just to see to a dangerous psychotic. As if it’s easy getting to Yorkshire in no time flat. I hate traveling through Faerie. It’s too easy to lose your way.”

  “Doctor, perhaps you’d grant Miss Howel and me some privacy? I’ve a feeling I’ll need to answer some questions.” Agrippa watched me, judging my reaction.

  “Very well,” Fenswick said with exaggerated dignity. He flicked a piece of lint from his sleeve, walked under the bed, and did not come out again.

  “Where?” I asked. My voice sounded hoarse. Even though I’d been trained to always keep a straight back, I rested my elbows on my legs; I couldn’t seem to get enough air.

  “Faerie is located out of the corner of one’s eye or on the edge of a shadow. It is wild, but a fast shortcut through England.”

  “Oh,” I said, as if that were a natural explanation. Swallowing, I shook my head. “How on earth can I be a sorcerer?”

  “I can explain that. The prophecy seemed to call for a female child, but how old are you?”

  “Sixteen.” Prophecy?

  “I knew we needed a different translation, but you try persuading Palehook…I’m sorry,” he said, noting my baffled expression. “This must be hard to take in.”

  “I’m sorry, a prophecy?” There was a faint ringing in my ears. None of this made sense.

  “I shall explain more in due course, I promise you. Right now, what you need to know is that the prophecy calls for a girl to rise and fight in a time of great need. It mentions this girl’s use of fire.”

  “But I thought all magical women were witches. There hasn’t been a female sorcerer in hundreds of years.” Not since Joan of Arc, in fact, and look where that got her.

  “Not all magic is equal. Witches cannot control fire, water, earth, or air. They work with the life force of plants and animals. Only sorcerers control flame. And magicians are tricksters by nature. They deal in underhand spells and manipulations. The fact that you risked exposure to protect your friend, especially when you believed you would be killed as a result, proves you are not one of them.”

  My breath came in shallow gasps as I realized that I might not die tonight. I put my head in my hands.

  “Now, listen, Miss Howel. I’ve never seen another girl who could do what you’ve done, and I’ve searched for four years. I’ve never met another sorcerer who could burn and walk away unscathed. As I say, sorcerers control flame.” He took the lit candle from the table and collected the fire into his palm, as he had done before. “But we cannot create it.”

  Searched for four years. That was why he’d come to Brimthorn, why he’d tested the girls. “What does this mean?”

  “That I will take you to London, if you’re willing, to be commended by the queen. You will become a royal sorcerer, and when you’re ready, you will fight alongside us. You’ll join my household, live and train there. Not to worry, there’ll be six others your age, all young men, of course.”

  “Young men?” What on earth would that be like? The only boy I’d ever known was Rook. And there would be so many of them….

  “They are all gentlemen. One of them is your benefactor, Lord Blackwood. I know he’ll be proud to meet an accomplished young lady from Brimthorn.”

  I would meet the Earl of Sorrow-Fell? Study with him as an equal? I nearly lay back onto the bed so that I could wake up from this dream.

  Agrippa continued, “I can teach you to use a stave to control the fire and to master the other elements.”

  “Control?” I whispered. Was such a thing possible? For years I’d lived at the mercy of my power, praying it wouldn’t come upon me at an inopportune moment. To think that I could be its master and not the other way around…

  It all seemed too good to be believed.

  “I would go to war with you?” I wished I hadn’t smashed that vial of medicine. My head felt several sizes too small.

  “Yes.”

  Though I’d never seen a Familiar until today, I knew what happened to the villages they plundered and the victims they left behind. I’d heard men tell horrific tales of families torn to pieces inside their homes, of entire towns burned to the ground. Hadn’t I yearned to do something about it? My childhood games had been full of battling the Ancients, of destroying them. Could those dreams come true?

  And as a sorcerer, I would belong in ways I’d never allowed myself to dream of before. I knew what life at Brimthorn would bring: years of hunger and cold, of teaching young girls how to do figures while my own life passed by in a blur, and one day I would be an old woman and still chained to the spot where my aunt had left me when I was a child. Now I had a chance to become something.

  “Will you join us?” Agrippa asked.

  “What about Rook?” Great destiny or not, I wouldn’t leave him behind.

  Speak of the devil. There were voices in the hallway. I got to my feet, still unsteady. Agrippa held my arm to support me.

  Rook told the men who pursued him, “I’ll see her if she’s awake. Nettie? Where are you?”

  “Rook, I’m in here!” I cried.

  Agrippa banged on the door and called for it to be opened. A moment later, the constable entered, holding my friend by the shoulder. When released, Rook hurried toward me.

  “Are you hurt?” he said, taking my face in his hands. His blue eyes blazed with concern. He looked human again, like his old self. Mud smeared his face and had dried in his hair.

  “No. I’m a sorcerer.” I didn’t mean to laugh, but I couldn’t help it. Rook’s eyes widened.

  “You can’t be,” he said, gripping my arm. “Are you sure?”

  “You seem less surprised than I was.” I laughed so hard I began to hiccup. He let me lean against him until I stopped.

  “Well, after today I doubt anything could surprise me again. A sorcerer, of all things.” He tilted my chin up and smiled.

  “I know it’s mad to say, but it’s true. And I think I’m going to London.”

  Rook’s smile faded somewhat. “Then I suppose this’ll be goodbye.” He took my hand and squeezed it. “I’m glad for you.”

  “No, I have even better news. You’re coming with me.” I knew it was daring, but I turned to Agrippa. “He is, isn’t he?”

  Agrippa looked as if he didn’t know what to say. Rook turned me to face him again. “Nettie, you can’t have me along. I don’t belong in a sorcerer’s world.”

  “Miss Howel,” Agrippa finally said, “the situation’s not as simple as you’d like.”

  “He has to come with us.” I couldn’t believe I was speaking this way to a sorcerer. But if he wanted me to leave Rook behind, he might as well ask me to cut off my own arm.

  “Nettie, please don’t,” Rook said. He sounded on the verge of anger.

  “Do you want us to be separated?” I grabbed his hand again. “If you don’t care to stay with me any longer, say so.” I waited, half fearing the answer.

  Rook closed his eyes. “You know I’d hate to ever leave your side.”

  I breathed out in relief. “Then don’t.”

  Agrippa cleared his throat. “London isn’t a good place for the Unclean, especially one with Rook’s scars.” He gestured at Rook’s shirt, ripped down the front from the battle. His wounds seemed even redder and angrier after the encounter.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because I know them well. Those are scars that Korozoth gives his victims, and Korozoth attacks London on a regular basis. Some believe that the Unclean are bound to the Ancients who mark them and call to them.”

  “But if Korozoth is already attacking the city, would Rook’s presence make that much of a difference?”

  “Well.” Agrippa appeared stumped. “No, but—”

  “Master Agrippa.” I swallowed to keep my voice from breaking. Rook was not going to leave me, not today, not ever. “I want to help you, but I can’t do so without Rook. You must take us both, or none at all.” Agrippa studi
ed me with interest. I raised my chin, hoping my expression was determined enough. Rook kept silent.

  “Very well,” the sorcerer said at last. “He’ll have a place in my service. If that is what you want, Rook?”

  Rook bowed his head. “I can do all manner of work, sir. You won’t be disappointed.”

  “I’m sure I shan’t. Well, Miss Howel?”

  There was nothing left for me here. Nothing left for us.

  “I’ll come with you.”

  Agrippa smiled in satisfaction. Rook’s hand found mine. We would go together.

  —

  THE NEXT MORNING, THE CARRIAGE PULLED up to Brimthorn so I could collect my things. I shook hands with all five teachers and smiled at the youngest two, Margaret Pritchett and Jane Lawrence. We’d grown up together, though we weren’t as close as I’d have liked. My friendship with an Unclean made them keep their distance.

  I was walking away when a child’s voice wailed, “She can’t leave! Let me go.” Sarah broke through the lines and flung herself at me, sobbing. I knelt and caught her, hugging her tight. She cried on my shoulder as I stroked her hair. “They say you’ll never come back,” she whimpered.

  “I will someday.” I thought of Colegrind’s beatings, of his roving hands. I wouldn’t let Sarah or the others remain at his mercy. I squeezed her and said, “I swear it.”

  Sarah let go reluctantly. Getting up, I walked to Colegrind for a few last words. He leaned on his birch cane, running his thumb along the handle lovingly. He’d find an excuse to use it on one of the girls before too long. He always did.

  “Have you forgotten something, Miss Howel?”

  “Remember me by this.” I grasped his cane and set it on fire. With a curse, he dropped it to the ground and stamped the flames out, breaking the blasted thing in two. “I will be back.” I stared into his eyes. “So take care how you treat the children.”

  Colegrind grunted as I turned and climbed into the carriage. Rook sat up in front with the coachman. We rumbled down the lane, waving. The girls raced after us, calling goodbye. I felt a pain in my chest as I watched them disappear. Much as I hated Brimthorn, it had been home and felt safe. Where I was going, nothing was certain, and everything was dangerous.