A Shadow Bright and Burning (32 page)

“Not often,” I said. My voice was shaking. “He's going to master it. They'll kill him. Please.” I buried my face in Rook's hair. “Say nothing. It's the greatest favor I'll ever ask.”

If Rook lives. If any of us survives the night.

No one moved or spoke until Magnus stepped into the tomb with me. He saw what this meant to me, what Rook meant to me. His nostrils flared, and he drew his stave. He was going to finish what Palehook had started.

“No,” I gasped, but Magnus nodded and presented his stave. A sorcerer's bow.

“I swear to keep it secret.” He motioned to the others. One by one, they bowed in agreement. Blackwood was the last one. He pressed his mouth in a thin line, but he finally nodded as well.

“For your sake,” he said.

I could have cried in relief.

There was a great boom. For a moment it seemed as if everywhere was illuminated with hot white light. My ears popped. When the light cleared, there was an instant of silence, which gave way to shouting in the streets outside. “What happened?” I said, pressing a hand to my ear.

“The ward has fallen.” Blackwood sounded grim as he looked to the ceiling. “We have to go. Korozoth will be heading for the heart of the city.”

Feeling sick, I helped Rook off the obsidian slab. As he left it, the slab trembled and, with a great splitting crack, broke in half down the middle.

“Huh,” Lambe said, smiling. “It did break.”

“What?” Wolff said. His confusion gave way to delight. “Oh! The slab.”

“I suppose I'll be staying in London,” Lambe said. He ran with Wolff, Blackwood, and Dee up the stairs. Magnus helped Rook stay on his feet while I knelt beside Mickelmas.

“There's nothing we can do for him,” Magnus said. “Howel, we have to get you away from here.”

I grasped the magician's cold hand. His dark skin had taken on a sallow, grayish hue, and sweat beaded at his temples.

“We need to get you to a doctor,” I said.

“Now? That's impossible, silly creature. Besides, Palehook is dead. That's enough for me.” He shivered. “God, I'm cold.”

“They wrapped me in a blanket to keep me from struggling,” Rook murmured. He moved to get it but fell back to his knees. Magnus set him down gently and ran to the tomb. He returned with something crumpled in a ball. I unfurled it and wrapped it about Mickelmas. It was garish, red and orange and purple—

“Your cloak!”

Mickelmas buried himself in the thing. “That's one accounted for, at least.” He slid his arms into the sleeves and wrapped himself up tight. “Time to seek out a safe place for healing.” He was silent for a moment and then nodded. “It'll take a tick, what with my weakened state. Oh, blast!” He grabbed me. “There's the thing I wanted to tell you. No time, no time, I'm such a fool.”

“What?”

He pulled me down closer to him. “Your father didn't drown.”

“Excuse me?” I gripped him by the front of his coat. “Say that again.”

“Listen to me. He didn't drown. He—” Mickelmas disappeared. I was left holding the empty air, stunned.

“What?” I whispered. My father hadn't drowned? Was he alive? Imprisoned? Had he been executed for murder or anything else that would force my aunt to lie to me? What was so important about it that Mickelmas needed to mention it right now?
What on earth did it mean?

“Does he think that was fair?” Magnus said, astonished. His voice brought me out of my stupor.

“We can't think of that now.” This wasn't the time for distraction.

“Howel, you must want to know.”

“I'll see Mickelmas again, and he'll explain. Right now, we have to run.” I forced myself up, feeling half mad. Together we raced up the stairs and through the cathedral. At the entrance, we stood agog at the sea of pandemonium.

Korozoth had brought every Familiar he could. The gray fog shapes of his riders, the black ravens of On-Tez, even the skinless warriors of R'hlem—they all descended out of the sky. We were at the mercy of the Ancients.

People had come outside their houses to view the commotion. Now they raced back inside, only to have the monsters follow them, smashing windows and bashing down doors. The creatures flew through the air carrying lit torches, chattering as they set fire to building after building. Familiars snatched people from the ground. A woman in a nightdress rushed past us just as a raven swooped down, gripped her, and soared up into the air. The beast's talons ripped through the flimsy cloth, and the woman fell thirty feet. Her end was horrible.

Saving Rook had been just, but these people were dying because of what I'd done. I hated myself. I hated Palehook for engineering this hideous situation. In a small, guilty part of my soul, I hated Mickelmas, too.

“Get ready to run,” Magnus said, clapping Rook on the shoulder as he coughed. There was no sign of the others. We had no time to search for them. “Don't look back.” We pushed forward on our own.

Sorcerers descended out of thin air in a flurry of black silk. Some staggered about, still drunk from the ball. They made formations and created a wall of wind that drove the Familiars back.

Flames licked up the sides of walls; smoke poured out of windows. People collapsed into the street and were butchered. We stopped to send streams of water toward the fire, but the job was beyond us.

“This is my fault,” I whispered. Magnus grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight.

We hadn't gotten far from St. Paul's when Gwen descended out of the air before us and leaped from her mount. She rolled back her smoke hood and slithered toward us on a carpet of fog.

“He wants you,” she said, focusing her sewn eyes upon me. “It is the greatest honor. He has chosen you specifically.”

“Stay back,” Magnus grunted. Rook groaned and fell to his knees. The rider gestured to her stag.

“You're to come with me.”

Now that I knew who she was, I couldn't attack her. I held up my hand, and she stilled.

“I know your name,” I said. “Please, I don't want to fight you.” I brought Porridge down slowly. Her nostrils flared. “You can turn away from all this.”

“Um, Howel?” Magnus said, pulling Rook to his feet. “What are you doing?”

Gwen kept listening. Desperate, I pushed on.

“It's so lonely for me, being the only one,” I said. She tilted her head to the side. She appeared to understand what I meant. “Maybe it was that way for you, too. We're alike. I can help you, if you'll let me. We can help each other.”

She licked her lips. It was a slow, thoughtful movement. Finally, she said, her voice low and normal, “We can be alike.” She held out her hand, smiling. “You must come with me before the bloody king. He will make us alike.”

There was no hope. I blasted at her with the wind, knocking her down. When I tried to rush by, she leaped to her feet.

“Little lady sorcerer,” she rasped, snaking toward me. “He wants you alive. He said alive, not intact.” She swung at me. I dodged and called fire into my stave, slashing it through the air. Snarling, she leaped toward me with a raised dagger.

A blast of wind caught her off balance. Master Agrippa strode into view, his stave held out before him.

“Let her go.” He stopped a few feet from the Familiar, his face broken in sadness. “Gwen, just let them go.”

“Gwen?” Magnus said, eyes wide. “Gwendolyn Agrippa?”

“Run, all of you,” Agrippa said as he blocked his daughter's thrust and forced her backward. Gwendolyn mounted her stag, hissing. “Gwen, please stop. Even now, it may not be too late,” Agrippa cried. “You remember me. I know that you do. Please, my love. Don't leave me again.”

She relaxed her dagger and murmured, “Father?”

Crying out in joy, Agrippa walked toward his child. In a move as fast and deadly as a snake striking, Gwendolyn grabbed for Agrippa's arm. He stumbled to the ground, breaking her grip. Undeterred, she dug her long fingernails into his leg, rising with her mount into the air.

“Stop!” I shouted, grabbing on to Agrippa, firing at Gwendolyn as she rose higher into the sky. Agrippa's hand began to slip from mine. “Hold on,” I said as Magnus tried to ward him out of her grasp. Despite our efforts, we were losing.

“Henrietta, let go,” Agrippa said.

“No.” Frantic, I placed Porridge at our joined hands and murmured a quick spell I'd learned from Mickelmas. Our grip fused; it would be near impossible to break now.

“Why?” he shouted, bewildered. “Why help me?”

Because despite his betrayal, I could never really turn my back on him. My heels lifted off the ground. I struggled not to panic.

Agrippa shut his eyes and created a warded blade. “Please forgive me,” he cried. I realized what he was about to do.

“No!” I screamed. He brought the blade down and was gone, moaning as Gwendolyn flew away with him. I fell to the ground, landing on my back. He'd cut himself off at the wrist, the quickest way he could see to relinquish me.

I broke the spell, dropped his hand, and stood as Magnus stared into the sky. “We could have saved him,” he said, looking pale and sick. “Why would he do that?”

“To protect us.” Agrippa was gone. He was my betrayer, the man who'd saved my life, who'd conspired with Palehook to discredit me, who'd played chess with me before the fire. My last real words to him had been hateful ones, and my vision blurred with tears.
Please forgive me,
he'd said. Why hadn't I done it?

“Howel!” Lambe and Wolff ran out of the fog. Swallowing my grief, we gathered by the side of a building and warded ourselves. Lambe inspected Rook, who was still falling in and out of consciousness. “He's not going to last much longer. Palehook took too much of his energy.”

“What can we do?”

“Fenswick's at the house. Go there.” Three of the ravens came out of the sky and dove for us. They slammed against the warded walls and screeched as they flew back up.

“I've never seen an attack like this. There aren't enough sorcerers in the city for the Familiars
and
Korozoth. Wolff, can you get the ward back up?” Magnus said.

“Impossible. Palehook is dead. We don't know the spell he used to consume Rook's life force, and even if we had it, we probably couldn't use it. And even if we could, we wouldn't,” Wolff muttered. “The only thing I can think of at this point is to kill Korozoth.” We waited for Magnus to stop laughing. “Most of the Familiars are his. Without him, they'd be like a colony of ants without a queen.”

“It's impossible,” Magnus said.

I had an idea, a wild and stupid one. “There might be a way to destroy him. Get the rest of the boys and find us. Do you know where Korozoth is?”

“He's coming from the west,” Wolff said. “He should be leaving the river by now.”

“First we need to deliver Rook to Fenswick back at the house. Then we'll all go off to face him together.”

“Yes, but what will we do?” Lambe said.

“Something you've tried before. It failed, but with me it might work.”

“You should leave,” Magnus said as Lambe and Wolff ran to get the others. He placed his hand on my back. “This is the perfect time to escape.”

“I can't leave, not now.” Ahead of us, we spied an empty wagon with a horse harnessed in, the beast struggling to loose itself from the post where it had been tied. Magnus freed the creature while Rook and I settled into the back. Magnus jumped into the driver's seat and took the reins, and we were off, fighting our way through the chaos. We continued into a cleared area, away from the attacks.

But people started running in the opposite direction from where we were headed. To the left of us, the streetlamps all guttered out. The blackness and silence became oppressive….

“Turn right!” I screamed as Korozoth swept into the square, quiet as shadow and fog when it wanted to be. The horse sensed the monster's approach and reared, pawing at the air before falling over in terror. The wagon snapped and the bottom fell, throwing Rook and me to the ground.

Rook screamed and turned his face up to the monstrous thing. Korozoth stopped, perhaps sensing one of its “children” crying out to it.

I pulled Rook to the ground, wrestling him into submission. It wasn't difficult. He gasped and wheezed. He couldn't continue like this much longer. Magnus leaped from the driver's seat and flew into the air.

“Howel, get out of here,” he called. Where could I go? It wouldn't be possible for Rook to drag himself much farther. Footsteps sounded and Blackwood appeared out of the night, the rest of the boys behind him. He pulled me to my feet and checked to see if I was hurt, then examined Rook. While the others assembled, he activated his stave.

“What's your plan?” Blackwood asked.

“I have to get Rook home first.”

“There's no time for that now. We have to attack here, or we'll all die.”

“Make a formation, me at the center. We can manage with six. Using my fire, build a net and bind him. It may be strong enough. Magnus, come back down!”

“I'm a touch busy at the moment,” he shouted. Blackwood organized the boys while Magnus returned to earth, dodging Korozoth. We stepped into formation.

The fire rippled on my skin. The others spun their staves together, weaving a great net. I felt the energy flowing from me and into them. It was a strange sensation, like someone stealing the air from my lungs. Once everyone had a light, we spread out. Porridge grew warmer in my hand the faster I spun. Finally, we ran forward and propelled our great net of flame. It arched upward, so impossibly high that it went over Korozoth's head and pinned him to the earth. The enormous fiend bellowed and thrashed, tentacles straining against the fire. We all ran to different sides, keeping the beast down.

“I think we've got him,” Dee yelled, waving to me.

But with the sound of snapping wood, the monster burst through the net, its tentacles waving and its hideous shadow mouth open in a triumphant call. We rushed to regroup.

“It's too strong,” Blackwood said grimly. “It can't be stopped.”

A tentacle came out of the darkness and nearly slammed on top of me. Magnus pulled us to the side.

“Are you all right?” he shouted.

“Yes. We have to turn back.” We tried to protect one another as we moved down the street.

“I'm not running,” Magnus said, warding a blade as the tentacle began to slither away. With a great cry, he leaped into the air and brought the blade down, severing the thing. Half of it went flopping along the street like a landed eel. Korozoth screamed as foul black fluid erupted out of its stump, coating Magnus, who, blinded, tried to get away. Another tentacle walloped him off to one side. He rolled a few times and lay there.

“Let me go,” I shouted as Blackwood wrapped an arm around my waist. Korozoth moved toward Magnus, prepared to absorb him.

Rook appeared beside me. He bled and sweated so badly that his clothes clung to his body. His eyes were black, but I could see that he was in control.

Cupping my face in his hand, he whispered, “All will be well, Nettie.” His breathing was a slow wheeze.

“Stay here,” I gasped, clutching at him. He stumbled toward the monster with his arms above his head, calling in that terrible, screeching voice. Korozoth stopped a mere foot from Magnus and paused, as if determining the best course of action.

Rook called the shadow to him.

Korozoth bellowed in surprise as Rook began to summon wisps and tendrils of its own body. Cloaked in the monster's darkness, he yanked at the beast. Korozoth turned away from us, inch by inch. Rook was actually pulling it after him. He dodged the tentacles twice. His luck couldn't last, though. With a grumbling cry, the monster finally struck him down and held him while he thrashed and screamed. Blackwood put a hand to my mouth to stop my shrieking; I bit at him in an attempt to free myself.

Finally, the monster released Rook. He lay on the ground like a broken toy, his arms and legs at strange angles. He wasn't moving. I screamed as Korozoth inched toward him, fighting free from Blackwood.