“Thank you. We’d be grateful,” I muttered, lowering my gaze. I didn’t want him to see how much I liked the idea.
“It’s the least I can do for you both.” He reclined into a wedge of shadow. “I’ve been thinking about your life at Brimthorn since the night we argued at dinner. I’d like to help you now, if I can.”
Wonder of wonders, was Lord Blackwood apologizing? I felt myself softening a bit.
“It’s not as if you were off enjoying yourself. You’ve many responsibilities.” Complimenting Blackwood felt incredibly odd.
“So do you,” Blackwood said. “Since seeing you with Rook, I understand that. You look after each other.” He cleared his throat and shifted several times in his seat, as if humility were a new set of uncomfortable clothes.
“When you aren’t parading as the Earl of Sorrow-Fell, you can be fine company,” I mused. Blackwood made a choking sound that sounded a bit like laughter.
As if making a small confession, he said, “I don’t have a talent for speaking with people my own age.”
“Surely you had friends growing up?” I frowned.
“I’d my tutor and governess.” That told me a great deal. Sometimes when I joined Magnus and the other fellows in conversation, I would notice Blackwood stealing glances at us from across the room, almost longingly. He always returned to his book if he caught me staring. “Mother didn’t believe association with other young gentlemen would improve me. It was…a bit lonely.”
“She probably wanted to protect you,” I said. Blackwood made a disdainful noise.
“In her own way, I suppose. She is not the most affectionate of women.”
I was shocked by his openness. Perhaps his mother was like my aunt Agnes. Perhaps we did have much in common. “I know what loneliness is like, at any rate. Apart from Rook, I only had one real friend at school. But Judith went to live with her uncle in Glasgow when we were ten. Most girls kept their distance because of my friendship with an Unclean.”
“Yes, we’re quite the same.” He choke-laughed again. I felt almost tender toward him. I had to remember how irritating he could be, or this would become a habit.
“For what it’s worth, you aren’t despised. Dee told me he wishes he could be more like you.”
“No, he doesn’t.” He leaned forward. “Does he?”
“He finds you intimidating, but that’s an easy hurdle to overcome.”
“He’d do better to take someone like Magnus as a role model.” That bitter dislike crept into his voice again. “That’s why I came to find you. The others are playing charades upstairs. I know how you enjoy being on his team.”
Ah, there was that irritating tone. “I don’t live to be on Magnus’s team, thank you. He was merely the first person to make me feel welcome, and he never looked down on me for my low birth.” I meant it half-jokingly, so I was surprised when Blackwood flinched.
“Forgive me for that. I should never have said such things,” he said.
This was an interesting conversation. “What’s brought all this on?”
He picked up my book and turned the pages in a clear attempt not to meet my gaze. “I’ve never seen anyone as close with one of the Unclean as you are with Rook, and I like that. I thought you wanted to be our savior to cover yourself in glory, but this is for his sake as much as yours. Isn’t it?”
“Shouldn’t that confirm your bad opinion of me? I care more about my friend than I do about your prophecy.”
“I know what it is to love someone so much that you would move the world only to see them smile.” He went from his chair to the fire, to hang on the mantel and gaze into the flames. I’d never imagined that Blackwood could speak so passionately. “I can’t despise you for that, and I respect your choice of friend. Most people don’t bother with the lowest among us.”
Affection pulsed through me. “If there’s one thing I took from those Sundays in church, it’s that we’re called to love the lowest.”
“And the sinner? Should we love him, too?” His voice was rough and low.
“No one’s ever beyond redemption,” I said, surprised by his tone.
He shivered, bowing his head. Concerned, I went to him and laid my hand on his shoulder.
“Are you all right?”
“I lied,” he whispered. He faced me. His gaze was cold; the smiling, vulnerable young man had vanished. “I didn’t come to find you for parlor games. I wanted to gauge your reaction when I asked about taking Rook away.”
“What? Why?”
“Master Agrippa thinks my Unclean colony might be the best place for him.”
My whole body went numb. “No. He promised me they wouldn’t send him away.”
“He believes that Rook may be a distraction to you.”
“How? I barely visit him as it is. Today was the first real conversation we’ve had in weeks!”
“No one wants to do this,” Blackwood murmured, ignoring what I’d said. I pushed away from the hearth, away from him. “With Rook’s bad headaches keeping the servants up and your sporadic performance, Master Agrippa doesn’t want any problems.”
“How could no one mention this?” I gripped the back of the chair. Would I simply have woken one morning to find Rook gone? “When will they separate us?”
Blackwood sighed. “Master Agrippa agreed to one more week.”
“Agreed? Is someone forcing this?” I stepped toward him.
Blackwood shook his head. “I can’t talk about it.”
“This is Palehook’s doing, isn’t it?” Blackwood’s silence only confirmed my suspicions. My hands began to spark. “They can’t have him, do you understand? I’ll leave this house first, which I’m sure delights you.”
“I can’t promise we’ll win, but I’ll fight to keep him with you,” Blackwood said. He offered to shake on it. “On that, you have my word.”
“I think I know what everyone’s word is worth,” I said, and ran from the library.
—
BACK IN MY ROOM, I LIT my bedside candle. I tried once, twice, to get the flame into the air, but each time the fire licked across my stave harmlessly. “Please,” I whispered, leaning closer. “Please work.”
The little flame became a fireball, then died.
“Why?” My voice choked with tears, I shook Porridge as one might a wayward child. “Why won’t you do what I ask?” Furious, I flung my stave at the wall. It flashed blue for an instant.
It was as if someone had knocked my head against a stone. I collapsed, the ceiling spinning above me. My skull throbbed. Rolling onto my side was like a symphony of agony.
I had handled my stave badly. If the stave breaks, the sorcerer breaks with it. “I’m sorry, Porridge,” I whispered.
“Miss!” Lilly swam into view above me. “What is it?”
“Hurts,” I grunted. Lilly slipped my arm around her shoulder and helped me to my feet. The floor tilted at such a mad angle I was sure I’d be sick. I muttered something even I couldn’t understand. Lilly laid me on my bed, and after a moment, her footsteps disappeared out of the room.
I closed my eyes and waited for the darkness to stop spinning. I might have stayed like this for moments or hours, until I heard his voice: “Nettie?”
When I opened my eyes, Rook sat beside me. “Lilly said you needed me.”
“She did?” I sat up slowly. A dull ache had replaced the sharp pain in my head.
Lilly parked herself by my vanity and watched. “Thought you’d need Mr. Fenswick, miss, but you said all you wanted was Rook.”
Rook squeezed my hand. “Do you need anything?”
I swallowed the tightness out of my throat. My chin wobbled, which meant tears were imminent. “We’re in trouble. I’ve failed. I can’t even attempt what Master Agrippa wants, and the queen won’t commend me.”
Lilly gasped, but Rook squeezed my hand tighter. “You can cry if you like.”
“I don’t like,” I muttered. “They’re going to separate us. Unless I improve my lessons a
nd you control your pain, they’ll send you away to Brighton. Lord Blackwood told me.”
Rook’s expression hardened. “They could do it?”
“Until I’m commended, they control everything.”
“Very well,” Rook said, and nodded to Lilly. “Start packing Miss Howel’s things. We’re leaving.”
“What?” Lilly gasped.
“No.” I grabbed his arm. “We’re not leaving. This is the only way—”
“It isn’t the only way.” Rook brushed a strand of hair from my forehead. “You don’t have to be a sorcerer. We’ll leave for Sussex or Kent. They need teachers there, as well as servants. Or we can fight, head for the army on our own terms now that we know we’ve both got power.” He whispered that last part to avoid Lilly’s hearing. “We’ll start again. Together.”
“You know there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to keep you safe.” I gasped, the tears coming now whether I wanted them or not.
“I can keep you safe, too,” he whispered. “We keep each other safe.”
“Yes.” I wiped my eyes with my handkerchief. “Bournemouth could be beautiful this time of year.”
“Exactly! We can leave at first light tomorrow, all this in the past. We could be by the seaside.”
Wouldn’t that be heavenly? I imagined some stretch of pebbled beach with waves breaking on it. I could feel the water lapping against my bare feet, my ankles grainy with sand. Perhaps we’d head to Devon, where Aunt Agnes still lived in her little cottage. She’d see how I’d grown up and resolve to forget all the ugliness of the past. I imagined her embracing us and ushering us inside with tea already laid out before a hot fire.
What a silly fantasy. We both knew what life awaited us outside the ward. Starvation and scorn beckoned, accusations of witchcraft and hatred for the Unclean. If we weren’t killed for our abilities, we would more than likely open ourselves to the Ancients’ attack. Now when I envisioned that stretch of beach, I saw Nemneris the Water Spider lunging out of the waves.
“No. The only chance we have is for me to be commended. I need to improve my lessons, and you try to keep from screaming too loudly in the night. Even if that means using the paste.” I was asking him to suppress his power for my sake. What a hypocrite I was. “Lord Blackwood has a good remedy for the pain,” I said lamely.
“We can’t trust them, Nettie.” He was firm. “We shouldn’t have to play a part to gain their acceptance.”
He was right. In a perfect world, we would be able to declare our abilities openly. Then again, in a perfect world there would be no war against seven vicious monsters. “We must work together.”
“So you can be commended?” His voice sounded hollow. The connection we’d shared in the kitchen snapped, and I felt him drifting out of my reach again. “Perhaps it would be best for all if I went to Lord Blackwood’s colony.”
“No!” Lilly cried. She blushed.
“No,” I said, taking his hand. “I’ve done this so the pair of us can have a better chance at life.”
“Yes. The pair of us.” After a moment of silence, he said, “It was selfish of me to ask you to run.”
“Once I’m commended, we can show Agrippa your talents,” I whispered.
“No. Right now they need the light, not more darkness.” He leaned forward, fast, and planted a kiss on the top of my head. “You should rest.” He got off the bed and left. Lilly promised to return with some tea before rushing after him. Alone, I lay down and thought. Whatever Rook believed of my intentions, all I wanted was for us both to be safe. Between his secret and mine, everything now relied on my commendation.
And I knew where I would have to go, and whom I would have to see, in order to succeed.
Two days later, I walked toward Ha’penny Row during my free afternoon. I clutched a bundle of bread and cheese to my chest. I’d have taken wine as well, but the butler counted the bottles and I didn’t want any of the servants to get in trouble.
A thin layer of yellow grime covered the ward. This time, slicing through was slightly harder than cutting a cobweb. Palehook wasn’t doing his job well.
“ ’Scuse me, miss,” a young man with a gruff voice said as he stumbled into me.
“It’s all right,” I replied. He shoved past and strode away.
I continued to Hargrove’s, nearly treading on a black crow that pecked for grain in the road. I marveled at its wingspan as it soared upward to land on a rooftop. The bird joined a small cluster of other crows and ravens. By the time I’d turned off the street, I counted ten, all singing above us.
—
“I TOLD YOU TO BRING ME drink,” Hargrove said as I handed the food to the children. I couldn’t give the bundle to him, as he was slitting open a long spool of bloodied intestine that lay on the table. The smell was hideous. One of the children thrust open a window in a bid for fresh air.
“What are you doing?” I wrinkled my nose.
“These are the innards of a white sow. I bought them off a fellow in Shoreditch, a steal at a tuppence. He says he fed her a penny with the queen’s face on both sides. Numismatomancy is divination through money. That coin will reveal wonders to me.”
“Such as why you spent two pennies to purchase one?”
“Hilarious.” He sliced away, brow furrowed as he inspected the bloody entrails. “This is your magical heritage, my little weasel. Show some respect.” Sure I’d be sick, I removed my hood. Hargrove’s eyebrows shot up. “You look terrible. When’s the last time you slept?”
“I don’t look that awful.”
Hargrove gestured to one of the children. “Get the family mirror.”
The child handed me a cracked looking glass before I could object. Even if my reflection hadn’t been fractured, the damage was plain enough. My eyes were dark and sunken, my complexion pallid. I’d lost weight.
The dreams of R’hlem had kept me up again. That was three nights in a row. I feared it was becoming a pattern. “I don’t sleep.”
“Why not?”
My patience at an end, I made a wincing face. “Guess.”
“I know you didn’t want to come back here.” He kicked a chair toward me, an invitation to sit. “You’re a prideful little creature, eh?”
I doubted a smart remark would make him want to help me. “Teach me to be a magician.”
“But I thought you were a sorcerer. Last time you were here you shouted it through the streets.” He wagged a bloody finger at me.
“I can’t work with their magic. You said you’d help me.” My nerves were frayed enough as it was. My head started to pound.
“Why should I?”
“For my father’s sake.”
“Yes, but now that I’ve thought about it, I’ve realized that is a spectacularly good way to die. I like myself alive,” he sniffed. I slammed Porridge onto the table, careful to avoid the entrails.
“If I’m commended, I could try getting the ban on magician apprentices lifted.”
He considered this. “I can’t imagine that would be an easy fight.”
“Nevertheless, I’ll do it if you help me.”
“Yes, but I also want money. Twelve pounds, specifically. I’ve a project in mind that requires a certain sum.”
Twelve bloody pounds? Where was I supposed to get that? “What do you need it for?”
“Rule number one: as my apprentice, you don’t ask nosy questions.”
If he got me commended, I’d commit highway robbery. I would find a way. “You’ll have to take it in bits. I can’t manage it all at once.”
He nodded. “That and a bottle of wine next time you come will seal the deal.”
Relieved, I tried to hand Porridge to him. “Show me what to do.”
“I can’t use that,” he said, wiping his hands on a cloth. “Magicians can’t handle staves, darling girl.”
“I thought you said I was a magician.” Pain throbbed in my temple. Why was everything so bloody complicated?
“Well, you might have an outmode
d ability. Magicians are descended from sorcerers, after all. Your father was always vocal about uniting our two societies once again. Pity he drowned when he did.”
“What was he like?” Despite my exhaustion, my heart sped up. No one had ever spoken to me about my father before. Aunt Agnes told me that he was a good solicitor and a poor sailor, and not to ask questions.
“Friendly, witty, always ready with a joke. That was the Welsh in him. Intelligent, to be sure, though a bit quick-tempered. Like father, like daughter. Can you really do that whole set-yourself-on-fire thing?”
“Yes.” My skin tingled at the mention of it.
“Magicians have many unique and strange talents, my girl, and several of them can be passed down in families. Some magicians take the form of animals, some allow the souls of the dead to enter their bodies and speak through them.” His face brightened. “Care to see mine? Haven’t got a hankie on you, eh?”
I handed him my linen handkerchief, disgusted as he took it with bloody fingers. Hargrove examined it, murmuring and pursing his lips. Exasperated, I began to feel he was toying with me. Shaking my head, I reached out to reclaim it. “Now, what on earth did you do?” I said, looking up.
He’d vanished. I checked the corner of the room, underneath the table, even outside. The children giggled as they watched my confusion. Finally, one of them piped up and said, “He’s in your hankie.”
“What?” It was impossible. I unfolded the smallest crease and found a great black eye winking up at me. With a scream, I dropped the handkerchief, and Hargrove spilled out of it and onto the floor. “How?” I gasped.
“Magicians violate all natural order. Of course you’re one of us. Your father could burst into flame and never harm himself. It’s no wonder you’ve got the ability, too.” So that was the secret. I was a magician’s daughter with an abnormal talent. I sank into my chair.
“Aren’t magicians descended from sorcerers?” The prophecy had called for a girl-child of sorcerer stock. He recognized my real question.
“Sorcerers like to pretend they’ve no connection with us. The Speakers might be a druggy bunch of fools, but they’d never be so vague about an important detail. If the prophecy calls for someone of ‘sorcerer stock,’ they mean a sorcerer parent.” There was my last hope, gone. I closed my eyes. “That prophecy is a lot of blather.” Hargrove’s voice softened. “Dictating who can and can’t be important is a waste of good brainpower. Give anyone the juice of the night-blooming Etheria, and they’ll tell you hedgehogs are coming out of the woodwork and there are clouds of grapes hovering on the horizon. Now, wake the stave.” I did as he asked. “The sorcerers want you to add your power to theirs, like pouring a bucket of water into a pond. Differences between sorcerers and magicians, chapter one, section one: our instincts are opposite. What do I mean by this? Let me answer with a question. What is the difference between a bird and a fish?”
A Shadow Bright and Burning Page 17
