The Rose Master (15 page)

Lord Grey flinched as if burned. He swallowed and looked up to where I stood again. “I understand.”

The same peal rang out from somewhere around me as the room shifted, blurring.

I was in another room, smaller but visibly wealthier. Every piece of furniture was polished to a high shine, every cushion fluffed up and positioned perfectly on the armchairs next to me. The large windows let in swaths of light and a view of London that made my breath catch in my throat.

I recognized Lord Grey at once this time, even though he had his back turned to me. He sat at a desk, his head bent to read the book in front of him as an older man looked on. He looked like every other tutor I’d ever seen: drab suit, crooked glasses sliding down his nose, a thick book in his hands, and the bored gaze of someone who had said the same things over and over until they held no mystery anymore.

In a second, all of that changed.

As with the roses, the air trembled around Lord Grey for an instant and then the tutor was no longer holding a book, but a large toad. The poor man gasped, dropping the croaking animal to the gleaming floorboards.

Lord Grey lifted his head. “Sir, I didn’t mean to.”

“But you did do it?” There was an eagerness in his voice that made me frown. I walked forward so that I could see both his and Lord Grey’s faces clearly.

“Yes, sir.”

The tutor stepped closer to the desk and pointed to the ink pen resting by the opened book. “Move that,” he said.

Lord Grey reached out.

“No, without touching it.”

When Lord Grey hesitated, the tutor placed his hands on the desk and bent forward. “Do it,” he ordered.

The young man before me, someone who wasn’t much older than the boy I’d just seen in the dormitory, closed his eyes, his brow furrowing with effort. Long seconds passed in which the only movement was the rise and fall of both men’s chests as they breathed.

Suddenly, the pen jerked forward, careening off the desk. Lord Grey lay back, panting.

The tutor smiled. “Good. Now, come with me.”

“But my uncle—”

“Never mind your uncle.”

The bell rang again and the room changed, the walls disappearing until I found myself outside, standing next to Lord Grey and the tutor as they waited to cross a busy London street.

“Follow me, August. Do
not
lose sight of me.”

The man took off down a street so full of people, it took only a moment for me to lose him in the crowd. But not Lord Grey. He was already tall enough to see beyond my line of vision and, with a deep sigh, he started after him. I made sure to keep him in view.

I had no idea how many streets we took, how many people we jostled past, how much of London we saw, but Lord Grey always managed to stay just a few steps behind the older man. The streets became alleyways, and the people around us were no longer dressed in finery, but in various stages of poverty, until rags were the only things to be seen. Rats scurried between our feet and harsh laughter mingled with screams, but Lord Grey continued walking, never wavering.

At last, the tutor stopped before a dilapidated door stained with suspicious colors which I did not care to investigate further.

“Do not utter a word until I say so,” the tutor said as he brought up a hand and knocked once on the door.

Lord Grey nodded and, curiously, turned to where I stood, lifting an eyebrow in question. Could he see me? No, that was impossible. But, then again, all of this was impossible.

The door opened without a sound and a man as finely dressed as any London Lord peered out. His eyes moved from the tutor to Lord Grey. He stepped aside and allowed us in.

“We’re here to see the Master,” the tutor said when the door closed behind us. “It’s urgent.”

The man nodded. “Please, wait here.”

The room was full of men of all ages, all dressed in the most expensive cuts and fabrics, all of them holding round glasses with amber liquid swirling at the bottom. Brandy, I assumed, even though it was noon, at most.

The younger men turned toward us as soon as we’d walked in, their eyes landing on Lord Grey, taking in his clothes, his apparent wealth, his age.

As we waited, I took in the room. There were no windows, and shadows piled all around us; the smell of tobacco, sweet and dark like coffee, filled every nook. I began to feel trapped, the room bending close around me so that I had to place a hand on the wall to keep my balance. I had no idea what would happen if I fainted, but I didn’t want to find out.

“Gareth, how wonderful to see you,” a man walking toward us said. I hadn’t noticed him and from Lord Grey’s flinch, he hadn’t either.

He was older than most of the other men. A collection of wrinkles, there was a crown of white down circling his head, the pale skin beneath it almost glowing in the candlelight. His eyes were clear pools, with only a tinge of blue. But despite his benign look, there was an aura of strength around him that made my skin prickle in the warm room.

“Master, the pleasure is mine,” the tutor said with a nod. “This is August Grey, a young man with the kind of abilities I think are of interest to you.”

The Master’s eyes turned. “Lord Grey, what an honor. I was not aware your estimable father possessed a child with the talents in which I focus.”

“Sir, what talents?”

“If your tutor has brought you here, then you, son, possess remarkable abilities, of which I’m sure you are aware.”

Lord Grey frowned and turned to his tutor. “Is this about what happened this morning?”

“Yes, August. And what I assume has been happening for quite some time.” He turned back to the Master. “His father hired me after Crandell Academy expelled him for some unexplained incidents. I must admit, I was curious to see if he had any of our skills, but it still took me by surprise when I saw evidence of them this morning.”

“Is this true, son?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes, I can see how they would.” He leaned forward and held the young man’s gaze. “Would you like to learn how to control them?”

The bells rang in my head and abruptly, I was in another room, one with three men standing in front of a long, tall, laboratory table. Another man, one with sunset-red hair, stood at the room’s head.

A spell of dizziness overtook me. Every shift in location was becoming harder to bear.

“To be in The Order of Brothers,” the red-haired man said, “you must learn how to manipulate the elements, how to make them bend to your will. To have gotten this far in the training, all three of you have shown enormous natural talents, but it is not over yet. A magician’s training is never done.”

Magician? He couldn’t be talking about sleight-of-hand, but it was preposterous to think he meant real magic. My head pounded with doubt.

“Today, only one of you will step forward as a true magician worthy of joining The Order.” His eyes traveled from one man to another, lingering for just a second on Lord Grey’s face. “You may begin.”

Lord Grey stood at one end of the table, his body completely still. I stood next to him and watched his hands clench with effort. The other two men at the table were all shifting about, muttering strange words to themselves, making peculiar symbols in the air with shaking fingers. But not young Lord Grey.

Standing next to him, the energy was like a boiling pot of water. Heat brushed my face and hands, as if it called to me, pulling something in my very center forward. My entire body wanted to walk closer to him, put my hands on his. The impulse was strong enough to frighten me.

Next to me, Lord Grey’s eyes shifted toward me again, just for an instant. I backed away from the table.

It took seconds for an orb of fire to appear in Lord Grey’s thin hands. It was so bright, I couldn’t stare at it for too long without my eyes watering, though the other men were transfixed by its light. My hands started shaking. How was this happening?

“Well done, Grey,” the red-haired man said. “A perfect specimen.” He barely glanced at the other two men. “I’ve never seen someone so young conjure one up. Your talent is obvious.” He smiled a thin smile. “Welcome to The Order of Brothers.”

I was jerked forward with no warning this time, no sound or dimming lights, and deposited once again next to Lord Grey, but this time outside. He was dressed in his finest, standing beside a young woman in a luscious gown. Her face was resplendent in the gaslights around where we stood. A theater, I guessed, by the building’s size.

“Oh, August, it was lovely, thank you,” she said with a glittering laugh.

“Anything to please you, Miss Bellingham.”

“Please, it’s Lilly.”

Lilly Bellingham. The Lilly Elsie had mentioned?

Lord Grey’s head turned suddenly to where I stood. He gently shook his head.

The scene disappeared again. Nausea roiled up and down my stomach until I thought I’d be ill. This was getting to be too much for me. When I could trust I wouldn’t stain my shoes with my supper, I looked up.

Lord Grey stood tall in front of the Master, his pale face tight with anger. “I am seventeen years old, sir. I will make up my own mind.”

“But why do you wish to leave the order?”

“Sir, my reasons are not important.”

“That remains to be seen, son.”

Lord Grey’s jaw tightened. “I don’t see why it is anyone’s concern, but if it will end this nonsense sooner, then I will tell you, sir. I feel I have learned all I can from my teachers and fellow students, and I see the necessity of ending my affiliation.”

“But you are a talented young man, or so your teachers say. Why choose to finish your studies in this art?”

“Sir, you misunderstand me. I will continue my studies, outside of the order.”

The Master’s lips thinned. “I see.” He cleared his throat. “Well, then, there’s little else for us to discuss.”

Lord Grey nodded. “Then I will take my leave, sir. Please give Miss Bellingham my compliments.”

The Master knew Miss Bellingham?

The older man lifted a finger. “One moment, I just recalled that tomorrow is a ritual day.”

“Yes, sir, but what does that have to do with me, now?”

“As you know, we need at least fifteen members to make a ritual day successful, and I’m afraid you will have to attend to complete the set tomorrow.”

“What about one of the provisional members?”

“They are both out of the country. And, as you know, we cannot allow the uninitiated to do anything but observe. It would only be a couple of hours, after which you’d be free to leave our company. It’s a favor you’d be granting us, otherwise, we’ll be forced to postpone the celebration.”

There was something in his voice that made me shiver as he looked at Lord Grey. I wished I could tell him to leave, to take the hat on the desk and walk out of the room.

Lord Grey sighed. “As you wish. I’ll remain until tomorrow.”

I staggered and grabbed on to the nearest thing, which just happened to be Lord Grey’s black robe. Someone’s elbow struck my side, pushing me against the dark wall behind me and forcing me to let go of Lord Grey’s sleeve.

We were in yet another dark room. The smell of incense was overpowering, though by now, my nausea was so strong a brisk wind could have set it off. The room was full of men, the majority of them wearing the same black robes Lord Grey wore, a red cross surrounded by a circle sewn into the left sleeves—the order’s emblem.

There was an entire row of men at the back, however, who were dressed in wealthy men’s everyday waistcoats. They had to be the uninitiated, the ones who would only be allowed to watch.

Lord Grey sighed next to me.

“August,” a middle-aged man said, walking up to both of us. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I heard rumors you were leaving us.”

“I am, Allister. This will be my last ceremony. I will be returning to Rosewood tomorrow.”

“That is a shame, son. Your talent is extraordinary.”

More and more men stepped into the room, though only two more wore robes. Lord Grey seemed to follow my gaze.

“I thought Jonathan and Walter were out of the country.”

“So did I.”

Lord Grey turned to the room’s center, where the Master stood, waiting for the men to finish entering. The old man’s face had no expression.

A door slammed shut behind us, and I winced.

“Welcome, Brothers,” the Master began, motioning for the men to arrange themselves into what appeared to be their usual circle. “We are here to celebrate the art, the power that has brought us all together, that has brought us into the light of knowledge, that has revealed our superiority over the common man.”

Lord Grey stepped forward to join the other members in the circle.

“For the edification of the uninitiated, this ritual is performed every season to awaken our minds to the changes around us, and to attune ourselves to each other once again. In this room, at this time, we are true Brothers.” He paused. “However. Tonight, there is another matter to discuss before we begin our celebration. August Grey, please step forward.”

Lord Grey’s head snapped to attention. He looked around the circle as I did, meeting only completely blank faces. Even Allister shrugged.