The Master Magician (15 page)

England stood almost as tall as Ceony herself. Perfect.

She cupped the red songbird in her hands and approached the map. “Can you tell me
where
you saw whatever it is you saw?” she asked.

The spell hopped weakly in her hands.

Pressing her lips together, Ceony eyed the map and the tacks that held it in place on the wall. The bird was too weak to float on its own for long. She set down the songbird on the drawers and
grabbed one side of the map, freeing several tacks. She did the same on the other side until the wide, thick paper tumbled to the floor.

She laid it out flat and set the songbird atop it.

“Show me,” she pressed.

The weak spell hopped once in place, then teetered onto one of its damaged wings. Ceony set it upright. It hopped down, moving toward London before it tumbled over a second time. Ceony righted it again.

The bird made its way to Reading in Berkshire and stopped.

Ceony scooped the spell into her cold hands and leaned in close to the map, pushing the tip of her right index finger into the circle marking Reading. “So close,” she whispered. The words sent gooseflesh coursing down her arms. Her spine turned rigid.

But had the bird seen Saraj himself? Perhaps it had simply found another Indian community, or some foreigner matching Saraj’s description. This might be another wild-goose chase. Of course, the bird could have located a different clue entirely.

“Thank you,” she told the songbird as she drew back from the map. “Cease.”

The animation flew out of the crinkled spell, putting the worn bird at rest.

She sat back on her heels, still cradling the bird. Reading. Could it be?

She had to know. She had to see for herself! A large part of her wished desperately that the bird was mistaken. That a simple paper spell couldn’t have found anything of use.

Emery would tell me if there were any important updates
, she thought.
And
surely
Magician Hughes would tell him
. . .

She glanced to the bird in her hands. Setting it down once more, Ceony used her necklace to become a Smelter, using “Target” and “Launch” commands on the tacks to return the map to its proper position on the wall. Returning to paper magic, she hurried
from the library, winding her way back to her bedroom. The two rooms were spaced far enough apart that her lungs gasped for air by the time she reached her destination.

She set the songbird on the breakfast table and hurried to the window, checking its sill for further messages. Nothing. She opened the pane and stuck her head outside, searching the air and grounds in the dimming light. Seeing no sign of an incoming message, she sucked in a deep breath and stepped away from the window, leaving it open. She paced to the table and back.

So close
, she thought, rubbing chills from her shoulders. She should send a message to her parents, alert them.

But she didn’t know for sure. She couldn’t until she went to Reading, explored it with her own eyes.

“You have no reason to go after him . . . Promise me you won’t.”

Ceony chewed her lower lip. “But I’m not going after him,” she murmured to herself. “I’m only looking.”

Her gut twisted, tight as a wrung rag, and her heart started to grow heavy. She glanced to the window again. Still nothing. She should write him.

And say what?
she wondered, stretching back to relieve the twisting and weighing. Nothing that wouldn’t get her into trouble, one way or another. And her nerves frayed too much for her to forge a cheery note.

She paced to the window and back, window and back, ignoring the way Fennel’s eyeless face noiselessly followed her.

Reading. She could try and find a mirror . . . but the one in the lavatory next door was too small to fit through, and what if she missed the mark again and ended up somewhere outside Reading, alone and at night? Could she just transport from mirror to mirror until she got where she wanted, depending on luck to protect her from getting trapped in the purgatory between tarnished looking glasses?

She could summon a buggy at first light, but how much would it cost to hire a buggy to Reading? Would the train be faster? Would Mg. Bailey let her go? He might be happy to see the back of her, but she didn’t want to antagonize him any more than she already had.

Ceony knit her fingers together and continued pacing. If she left now, she’d have the cover of darkness. Saraj would share that advantage, of course, but Ceony could handle that. Besides, if she were either a Gaffer or a Pyre, she could create light with the snap of her fingers. The cover of night would also help conceal her bond-breaking talent from others—bystanders, policemen, even Criminal Affairs itself. If others learned of it, they might not be as withholding with the information as Ceony was.

And what will you do if you find him, Ceony?
she wondered.
Will you kill him?

Her breath hitched. She worried her lip. She’d killed Grath, yes, and didn’t regret doing so. He’d murdered Delilah. He would have killed her and Mg. Aviosky, too, if given the chance.

But did she really want to take a second life? Perhaps she could just maim Saraj, hurt him enough so he couldn’t fight back . . . but no. She couldn’t allow him another chance at escape. He had already been tried and convicted, besides. He was
supposed
to be dead.

Breathing in, Ceony filled her lungs until they threatened to burst, then let the air out all at once.
If
she found Saraj,
if
they had a confrontation . . . she wouldn’t hold back. She couldn’t afford to. He was undeserving of mercy.

But there was still the issue of getting to Reading. She could risk the mirrors again, but Ceony worried her luck with using non-Gaffered glass was wearing thin. A buggy might not come out this late, not without extra fees, and her next stipend payment was a week away. Still, it would be worth it, no? It would—

“Magician Bailey has his own Mercedes, and sometimes he lets me take it out.”

“Bennet,” she whispered. He could drive her to the train station
now
. She’d save on time, as well as a few pounds. And if she used the new enchanted Smelter rails installed at the Central London Railway, she could be in Reading before midnight.

Do you really want to involve another person in this?
asked the voice in the back of her mind. Could Bennet end up traveling the same road as Anise and Delilah? Was she destined to leave a path of devastation behind her?

“I won’t let him come with me,” she told herself. “A drop-off at the train station, and that’s it.”
After that, I won’t lean on Bennet for anything.
Perhaps a touch of flirtation would help convince him.

Seizing a gray square of paper, Ceony scribbled across its surface and Folded it into a simple glider, which she directed to the window below hers. She watched until Bennet’s window opened and his hand guided the glider into his room.

The park will have to wait. Can you take me to the CLR? It’s vitally important and would mean the world to me.

Best to leave Mg. Bailey to his rest. Secrets make friendships fonder, no?

Turning from the window, Ceony opened her ledger with her free hand and flipped to her notes on Saraj, despite having memorized the words verbatim. She’d written both Delilah’s and Anise’s names in the corner and traced them over and over again until the letters were so thick the names were barely legible. Her conversation with Mg. Aviosky played through her mind. She mulled over that piece of brown glass stowed away in her purse.

Ceony realized she had found a gold coin in the murky sewage of her situation with Mg. Bailey—a sort of freedom she would never have back at the cottage.

Emery wasn’t here. She needn’t worry about hiding secrets or bending promises so long as she resided in this empty mansion so far from her dear tutor, and no one, not even Mg. Bailey, supervised her time.

She cradled the red songbird against her chest. Yes. So long as she resided with the petulant Folder, she could—and would—continue her pursuit of Saraj.

Enchanted lamps and fire workings kept the CLR aglow as Bennet, his hands sweaty, white, and gripping the steering wheel of his tutor’s car, pulled into the exact same parking spot Ceony had sat in nearly two years ago with Emery, before the paper magician had taken off to battle Saraj. Oddly, it was also the same place where he had first kissed her.

Ceony didn’t mention this to her comrade, of course.

“I don’t know what he’ll do if I’m caught,” Bennet wheezed, “but I don’t think it will be good.”

“You’ll be fine,” Ceony assured him. She squeezed his shoulder. “Thank you. I’ll be back before too long. Don’t wait up.”

“Are you sure? I can come with you, help you with whatever it is that needs doing. You shouldn’t go alone, Ceony. A woman out alone in the dark . . .”

I have to
.
No one else will get hurt if I’m alone.
She smiled. “Unless someone robs the train, I’ll be fine. You wouldn’t be much good in a robbery like that anyway. Besides, you have Magician Bailey to worry about.”

Bennet swallowed, looking sallow and ill. “What should I say if he asks?”

“Nothing,” Ceony replied, slinging her bag over her shoulder. It pulled with the extra weight of her Tatham percussion-lock pistol,
which she’d stowed in the very bottom, just in case. “I left an illusion in my room of me sleeping, if he bothers to check.”

“He’ll be able to tell.”

“Only if he’s looking closely,” she countered. “Be safe.”

Bennet nodded. “Best hurry. And then you can give me the details of why you need to be at the CLR so late at night. You can trust me, Ceony.”

Ceony made no promises, merely let herself out of the vehicle and strode to the station, where she purchased a ticket and boarded the last train for Reading. Only three other people rode in the car with her.

Ceony fiddled with her charm necklace as the train sped west, its wide wheels practically floating over the Smelter-enchanted rails beneath it. How the metal-induced spell of speed worked, Ceony didn’t know. None of her personal studies in Smelting came close to such a feat, which had only been built a few years back. She remembered glimpsing an article on it in the local paper, back when she’d still been a student at Tagis Praff.

Unease began to creep into Ceony’s resolve when the train met its destination, blowing out smoke and steam as the engine relaxed onto its rails for a night’s rest. She imagined it to be near midnight, and despite the glow of more magicked lamps in the Reading train station, Ceony couldn’t help but focus on the dark spots in between them and beyond. She slipped her right hand into her bag as she walked, touching both Folded and un-Folded papers, fingering the handle of her pistol.

Emery would be furious.

Fortunately, Reading, like London, boasted a big enough population that most streets glowed with lamplight, all enchanted. In fact, Ceony couldn’t find a single ordinary lamp. She supposed that was
due to Reading being the host city of Magicians’ English Enterprising, the largest material-magics engineering firm in all of Great Britain. It was the same company responsible for whatever hovering spell was boosting the railways’ efficiency. They had given an address at Tagis Praff the week before Ceony’s graduation, though it had turned into more of a hunt for future employees. As far as Ceony knew, the company didn’t employ Folders.

The whistle of another train sounded through the illuminated city as Ceony strode down Broad Street, though this one came from another direction. At least three railways converged on Reading. Only one could take her back to London, however. Several people milled about despite the late hour—two businessmen absorbed in conversation, a scandalously dressed woman smoking a fag, three men exiting a different car on the train Ceony had taken, laughing hard enough to cry. Ceony left them all behind.

Stopping near a statue with the name “George Palmer” engraved on it, Ceony pulled three songbirds from her purse and commanded them, “Breathe.” She whispered secrets to the birds, telling them how to detect Excision magic and find the elusive Saraj Prendi, and then released them into the air.