A Shadow Bright and Burning (4 page)

“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 four 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 studied 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.

T
HE 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.

We traveled for three days and nights, barely stopping to rest. Agrippa sat with his stave in hand, always on alert for signs of Ancients or Familiars. Having discovered me, he seemed fearful that something catastrophic would occur.

I watched the countryside roll by our window, excitement and nervousness mounting with every passing day. I'd never set foot in London before. What would it be like? Sometimes for reassurance I would tap on the roof of the carriage three times, wait, and smile when Rook knocked back in answer.

Finally, it was the day of our arrival. I leaned out the window with a thrill of anticipation. As we neared the city proper, however, my excitement faded. I paled at the horror that lay before me.

All about me were buildings half-demolished, brick blackened by soot, and people living in the open streets. The sky was a metal gray, and the air tasted oily. Ragged, filthy men slept on doorsteps, and women and children huddled together for warmth. Young boys swept the road of horse manure. Little girls dressed all in black sat on street corners, selling strange wooden dolls.

They cried, “Totems, totems for sale. Korozoth. R'hlem. Molochoron. Protect yourself with the power of a totem.”

“Is this truly London?” I whispered. Brimthorn had been oppressively gloomy, but not burned and ravaged.

“This is outside the warded territory.” Agrippa sighed as he looked out the window. He didn't seem to like it any more than I.

The totem children noticed our elegant carriage and called to us, leaping up and down in excitement.

One of the girls, a tiny blond creature, ran toward us, calling, “Totems, totems! Take one home!” The horses reared up, and we jolted to a halt. There was a scream. I leaned out the window to discover the girl lying in the street.

Agrippa grabbed my arm. “Stay inside,” he said.

As the child wailed in pain, an old man with the blackest skin I'd ever seen burst through the crowd, raced across the road, and fell beside her.

“My li'l Charley,” the man wept, wrapping her in a shockingly bright cloak of purple, orange, and red. “My p-poor li'l girl.”

“Shouldn't we do something?” I asked. Agrippa looked white and pinched with worry. He opened his door and leaned up to speak with the driver while I craned my neck out the window. The child's sobs tore at me. With a half-apologetic glance back at Agrippa, I climbed out of the carriage.

“Nettie, what are you doing?” Rook said, sliding to the ground.

“We can't just sit there.” I knelt beside the girl.

The child was in a dreadful state, covered in blood. Sickened, I turned to the old man. “Sir, how may I help?”

“Oh good, miss, 'ow kind you is, 'ow k—” The man's smile melted from his face. The large, glittering tears in his eyes seemed to dry at once. He dropped the girl and snatched my wrist, squeezing tight. “It can't be. Not you,” he murmured. “What's your name, girl?” He had been talking like a poor man of the streets; now he sounded like a cultured gentleman. “Who on God's earth are you?”

“Let go,” I said, struggling against him. Rook pulled me away and wrapped his arm around me protectively. I glanced at the child and gasped. All the blood had vanished. She opened her eyes and sat up.

“Sorry,” she said to the man. “I let the charm wear off.”

“My fault, Charley. I lost my train of thought.” The man swept the child into his arms again and nodded at me. “Thousand pardons. Mistook you for someone else.” But his gaze was too intent for it to be a simple case of mistaken identity.

“How do you know me?” I asked, getting to my feet.

“Magician.” Agrippa strode forward, glaring. “You are a thief and a swindler.”

Magician?
Instinctively, I wanted to wipe my wrist, to be rid of the memory of his touch. Rook tightened his grip on me.

“Swindler? Ridiculous,” the man said, backing away. “And look, little Charley's well. Sometimes all you need is a wish and a prayer. It's a miracle!” The magician searched for an avenue of escape.

“You know the law,” Agrippa said. People watched and murmured.

“Oh, you wouldn't harm an old conjurer, would you, sir? We're so very sorry for the disturbance. Here, have some flowers to make amends.” The magician snatched a bouquet of red roses from his sleeves. “A peace offering?” He released white doves from his breast pocket.

“Call a constable!” Agrippa shouted.

“Oh, very well. Suppose I'll go quietl—” At this, the man sneezed and vanished in a burst of fire and smoke. I put my hand over my mouth. The crowd gasped in amazement.

Agrippa looked about, baffled, and then returned to me, signaling to get back into the coach. “Come, Miss Howel.”

Rook jumped onto the driver's bench, and I climbed inside. We rode along while Agrippa seethed.

“I've never seen a magician before,” I said, trying to calm him with conversation. Agrippa cleared his throat, mopping his forehead with a pocket square.

“I know it must seem harsh, cornering an old man like that,” he said. “Apprehending a magician can be difficult alone. You never know what they'll do.”

I kept silent. I knew that magicians had been royally pardoned for aiding Mary Willoughby, so long as they abided by the law, but they were all rogues and criminals. When I was a child, there was gossip that one of them had come through a nearby village, offering to tell fortunes. Three days later, he took off with six chickens, two sets of good candlesticks, and the miller's daughter. Still, I'd never thought magicians to be as dangerous as Agrippa implied.

“Do you hate them, sir?” I asked.

“They're selfish, dangerous men. They would rather tinker with obscene parlor tricks than lift a finger to aid the crown in a time of war. Considering it was their magic that helped the Ancients cross into our world, that attitude is even more intolerable.” His cheeks tinged pink.

I decided not to mention how the magician had spoken to me, or that my appearance had stunned him. Truth be told, I preferred not to think about it myself. Surely it had been an attempt to trick me. Surely.

We continued onto a broad, bustling avenue. The street was a sea of activity, waves of humanity cresting and breaking.

“This is Ha'penny Row,” Agrippa said, pointing out the window. “The trade hub of unwarded London. Anything you've ever wanted you can find here.”

We passed women carrying baskets of loaves in their arms. People hauled trays of turtle, panes of glass, bags of flour. Voices called out wares of fruits and vegetables.

Agrippa sighed in exasperation as our carriage came to another abrupt halt. “What on earth is the matter today?”

He looked out the window for the source of trouble. He appeared to find it as, laughing merrily, he waved at someone. Curious, I leaned out to look for myself.

A young man on horseback trotted up to us. He rode a beautiful bay, and he removed his top hat by way of greeting. Reaching down, he drew out something that hung in a sheath by his side. He presented it with one hand to Agrippa, bowed at the waist, and then put away the stave and nodded. Here was another sorcerer. My stomach lurched as I gazed up at him. I hadn't expected to be so nervous.

“Now, you can't keep me away, Master Agrippa, you really cannot,” he said. “There's five pounds riding on my seeing her first.” The young man peered in the window and cocked an eyebrow. “Is this the lady in question?” This last was addressed to me. “Mr. Julian Magnus of Kensington, at your service.” He bowed, a bit awkward, as he was still astride the horse. After nearly losing his seat, he said, “You're the prophecy girl, I'll be sworn. What's your name?”

Magnus had thick, wavy auburn hair and bright gray eyes. He was broad-shouldered and, I admitted to myself, almost absurdly handsome. His mouth was set in a grin, and he seemed to believe us old friends, not strangers who'd only just met.

“Henrietta Howel.” I smiled in a way I hoped was friendly but not
too
encouraging. I didn't know this young man, after all. Magnus laughed.

“Well, now that the pleasantries have been exchanged, we must make certain you're the prophecy. A demonstration of your power at once!” He clapped his hands. “Come along, start burning. Nothing too grand—a small inferno will do.”

“Perhaps when we get home. I should hate to startle the horses,” I said. Magnus seemed to like that response. “What was your name again, sir?”

He snorted. “ ‘Sir,' is it? I told you, Mr. Julian Magnus of Kensington, at your service.” Here he gave a bow again. “To be commended by Her Majesty. You're from Yorkshire, aren't you?”

“Yes,” I said. I had to force myself not to tuck a stray curl behind my ear. The force of Magnus's attention was disconcerting.

“Northern girls have the ice and chill about them, but now that you've come south, you can thaw out as fast as you like.” He kept smiling, as though this wasn't an insult.

“I'm sure I don't need any ‘thawing out,' as you put it,” I said, conscious of the edge in my voice. My irritation appeared to delight him.

“Cross with me, are you? That's the glorious thing about northerners. They're all Sturm und Drang.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” I muttered.

Magnus laughed, reached through the window, and shook Agrippa's hand.

“Thank you, Master. It's like Christmas. She's the funniest girl I ever met.”

Agrippa struggled to contain a smile. “Mr. Magnus is one of my Incumbents. The son of a magical family spends ages fourteen to sixteen living under the supervision of an established practitioner.”

“That would be our dear Master here,” Magnus said. “It's his duty to make sure we don't fail our great test before the queen.”

So I was to share a roof with Magnus. I prayed I wouldn't want to murder him every time we had breakfast.

“Allow me to escort you home.” Magnus grinned as he rode alongside our carriage.

After a further ten minutes, Agrippa pointed out the window. “Here comes the ward.”

There was nothing ahead but two men in crimson soldiers' uniforms standing in the center of the road. “What do you mean?” I asked.

“Wait a moment.” He knocked on the roof of the carriage, which rumbled to a halt. The soldiers stood directly ahead of us, their hands out in a signal for us to stop. I thought them ordinary guards until they each unsheathed a sorcerer's stave.

“We request entrance,” Magnus called.

There was no gate. “Can't we just ride past them?”

“Wait,” Agrippa said.

The guards bent down, touched their staves to the ground, and traced them slowly upward. Floating into the air, they moved toward each other, one from the left and one from the right. The men met in the center, drew their staves together, and dropped to the ground. They'd sketched an invisible square, about ten feet long and ten feet high.

Satisfied, Agrippa knocked on the roof again, and the carriage lurched forward and through the square. I gasped; it felt as if some enormous pressure was squeezing the sides of my head. An instant later and it was done.

“What was that?” I asked, hands over my ears.

“The ward is designed to keep the Ancients from entering the area. Only sorcerers' staves can cut through the shield to create a brief entryway,” Agrippa explained.

Magnus gestured to the streets before us. “Welcome to London proper,” he said with a flourish.

If the unwarded area had been hell, this was paradise itself. Wrought-iron gates bordered parks and gardens. The sweet scent of fresh bread and cinnamon wafted from a bakery, and we passed a coffee shop where laughter and conversation bubbled out the doors.

“This is wonderful.” I leaned from the window for a better look as elegant women passed by in an open-air barouche. “The Ancients have never attacked here?”

“Not even R'hlem has set foot in the heart of London.” Pride tinged Agrippa's voice.