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C
HAPTER

28

N
imble hadn't even bothered to hide the pyrotechnic device. It was sitting on the patterned carpet in the ducal magister's room, a plain wooden box with handles and a lid on it, small enough that I could have heaved it up and carried it in my arms.

But I didn't want to do that.

Krrrr
, Pip said into my ear.
Hurry
, it meant.

I crept across the room and knelt next to the box. The oil-painted magisters on the walls frowned down at me. “
Lothfalas
,” I whispered, and Pip breathed out a glowing ball of sparks that hovered overhead. Carefully—
steady hands
—I lifted the top off the box and peered inside.

It was as I'd suspected. The box was packed with blackpowder explosives. On top of the blackpowder, glowing bright green against the black, was a heap of tourmalifine crystals with a locus magicalicus sitting on it. Brumbee's round, brown locus stone; it looked like a hen's egg in a green nest. Near the heap of tourmalifine was a saucer full of slowsilver, shimmering like a liquid mirror in the dim light. That was the fuse. The idea was, the slowsilver would be attracted to the locus stone, so it would creep out of the dish toward the stone in its pile of tourmalifine. When slowsilver and tourmalifine mingled, they exploded. That smaller explosion would set off the huge blackpowder explosion.

The slowsilver had already crept partway out of the saucer; slowly it oozed toward the pile of tourmalifine crystals. Only a finger's width separated them. When the slowsilver touched the tourmalifine—
BOOM!

Taking a deep breath, I stilled my hands and reached into the box. Pip climbed up to perch on my head to watch, clinging to my hair.

“Pip, your tail is in my eyes,” I whispered. The dragon shifted so I could see, but still leaned toward the box.

Carefully, so carefully, I touched Brumbee's locus stone. It felt cool and smooth, and I could feel the magic in it, too, a prickling in the tips of my fingers. With steady hands I eased the stone from its nest of tourmalifine crystals, then held it over each flowing bit of slowsilver, slowly coaxing it back into the saucer. When every silver-bright snail was inside, I put Brumbee's locus stone down on the floor, then reached in and, careful not to spill a drop, lifted out the saucer of slowsilver and set it down outside the box.

I sat back and let out a shivery breath. There, I'd done it. The device was defused.

Pip started to hop down, going after the locus stone, but I snatched away the stone and put it in my pocket, grabbed Pip and stood, my legs shaking, then set off running through the echoing passages of the Dawn Palace and out the front doors.

The courtyard outside was deserted. I stood with Pip in my arms on the steps and looked out over the city. Night had fallen. In the dark distance where the river ran through the middle of the city, sparks and orange smoke still drifted up from the island where Nimble's house had stood. Pip squirmed in my hands, so I let it go, and it dropped to the ground and glared up at me. The dragon was a magical creature; it had wanted that locus stone for itself.

“Sorry, Pip,” I said, and started down the palace steps.

Rowan, followed by Kerrn and Miss Dimity and a few more palace guards, hurried to meet me at the bottom. Rowan had gotten a sword from somewhere; she wore it belted over her green dress. “Conn!” she shouted. “Did you—”

“Yes,” I answered. I'd defused the device, I meant.

“What now?” Rowan asked. Beside her, Kerrn gripped her sword.

“My dear duchess,” Miss Dimity said, bulging her eyes at Rowan's sword. “I really don't think you should—”

“Quiet,” Rowan said, holding up her hand. “No interruptions.”

Miss Dimity looked as if she'd swallowed a frog.

I glanced toward the Twilight. No smoke, no fire. So Dusk House hadn't exploded. Yet. “Nevery's defusing the pyrotechnic device at Dusk House.”

Rowan gave a brisk nod. “Captain Kerrn's guards are reporting that Crowe's minions have been pouring into the Twilight. The first explosion was a signal to them, apparently.” She looked over her shoulder at the billows of smoke and sparks still coming from the island. “We have things under control in the Sunrise.” She turned back to me. “I need to help Embre.”

Yes, she did. I told her and Kerrn where to find Benet, who was waiting at the riverbank with the boat.

“Benet's there?” Kerrn asked, brightening.

“Yes,” I answered. “He can row you over to the Twilight to join the fight.”

“Good,” Rowan said. “You're coming with us, Conn?”

“No. I think I know where Crowe has planted one of the other pyrotechnic bombs. I have to go defuse it.” I turned to hurry away.

Rowan took my arm, stopping me, and she didn't look quite so duchessly. “Listen, Conn,” she whispered quickly. “I'm sorry about making you the ducal magister, and then trying to make you stay safe inside. We all decided we knew what was best for you, even though you kept saying you didn't want it.” She gave me a wry smile. “You don't talk a lot, you know, so when you do, we ought to listen.”

“It's all right, Ro,” I said. Because suddenly, it was.

“Friends again?” she asked.

“Friends always,” I said. “And I have to go.”

She nodded and opened her mouth to say something, but I answered for her. “I can't be careful, Ro—you know that. It's for the magics—and the city.”

She gave me a grim nod. “Yes, Conn, I know. Now go.”

 

I figured Crowe was trying to destroy the centers of power in Wellmet. If he wanted to strike at the wizards, he'd plant a pyrotechnic device at Magisters Hall, on one of the islands in the river.

With Pip clinging to my shoulder, I started down the wide streets of the Sunrise, heading for the Night Bridge. A few guard patrols were out, but the streets were mostly quiet and the houses were locked up tight. Everything was happening across the river.

At the bridge I slowed to see if any swifts or minions were about. The bridge had houses built on it, and the road ran through the middle of them; in the night it looked like the mouth of a tunnel leading into darkness. Keeping my ears pricked, I padded onto the bridge and, hearing nothing but my own quiet footsteps, hurried to the stairs leading to the secret tunnel that led from the bridge to the magisters' islands in the river. Down I went, trying not to let my bare feet slide off the slippery steps.

“
Lothfalas
,” I said as I entered the tunnel, and greenish light flared around me and Pip. I made for the first gate, said the spell to go through, and raced along the dripping tunnel to the stairs leading up to the island.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I let the lothfalas light go out. No sense in telling Crowe and Nimble I was here in case
they
were here. The hallway I'd come out in was dark.

I searched the rest of the building, and it was dark, too, and quiet. I peeked into offices and meeting rooms, cellars and storage rooms, and found no strange boxes full of blackpowder and locus stone fuses.

Drats. This was taking too
long
!

I rushed out the front door of Magisters Hall to the slate-stone courtyard that lay before it. To the west, the Twilight was dark as a bruise, with points of light in the houses and, higher up near Dusk House, brighter smudges—torches. No explosion yet.

I had to see how Nevery was getting on. Maybe I needed to go there next. I had time, if I made it quick. “Pip,” I whispered. “Go spy on Nevery and then come back here.” I said it again in the dragon language. Then I said “
Tallennar
” to start the seeing-and-hearing spell again. The spell-spark flared and I saw and heard the world as Pip did.

Pip leaped from my shoulder into the air. A whirl of sky and stars, and then I saw the dark water of the river rushing underneath as Pip flew across the river, heading for the Twilight. To our right, the rubble of Nimble's house on its island lit up the sky with a red glow; to the left loomed the dark bulk of the Night Bridge. My Pip-ears could hear, coming from the steep streets of the Twilight, shouts and screams and the sounds of running feet.

As Pip flew, I felt the Arhionvar magic overhead, pushing toward Nimble's house, where the last explosion had happened; the softer Wellmet magic felt twitchy, like a horse getting spooked. They felt like they were just about to tip over into chaos.

Hurry, Pip
, I thought.

Pip shot over the dark streets up to Dusk House. The house was lit up with torches; in their flickering orange light, I caught a quick glimpse of men and women fighting in front of its doors, the flash of knives and clubs swinging, Crowe's chimney swifts and his minions charging forward, and Embre's men pushing them back, helped by mudlarks and gutterkids; I saw the mudlark Den pry up a cobblestone from the street and hurl it at Crowe's men. There was no sign of Crowe, but Embre was in the thick of it, gripping a knife and shouting an order to one of his men while his aunt Sparks tried to push his wheeled chair through the crowd, farther away from Dusk House.

Then I heard Rowan shout, “Embre!” She drew her sword.

As Embre heard Rowan and looked toward her, a chimney swift holding a knife lunged at him; with a shout, Rowan leaped between them, her sword flashing in the dim light. Kerrn followed, sword drawn, with Benet beside her, elbowing a minion in the face, then swinging his truncheon. The minions and swifts before them fell back.

Embre shot a wild glance at Pip as the dragon flew over his head and into the building. Pip darted down one corridor, then dodged into a side door and flew up to the room's ceiling and clung there. A storage room, it looked like, full of boxes and barrels.

In one corner, Nevery, who was holding the tourmalifine tongs, and the mudlark Jo were peering into a big wooden box—much bigger than the one Nimble had hidden in the Dawn Palace.

“Ah,” I heard Nevery say, and he pointed at something in the box.

Go closer, Pip.

Pip crawled along the ceiling until it was right over Nevery and Jo and the explosive device. I got a good look at what was inside.

Oh, no.
Get out of there, Nevery!
I wanted to shout at him.

This fuse was much closer to exploding than the one in the Dawn Palace device. As before, a locus magicalicus—Periwinkle's gray river stone—sat on a pile of tourmalifine crystals. But this time the mirror-bright slowsilver snails had almost reached the tourmalifine. Not a fingernail's width separated them. Another second, and they would mingle and explode.

As I watched, Nevery reached in with the tongs, and—

BOOM!

I blinked and Nevery in Dusk House disappeared, and I had time to take a quick breath before a wave of wind and burning air slammed me to the slate stones of the Magisters Hall courtyard. Under me, the ground rumbled, and a huge gout of flames and smoke burst into the air, brilliant orange against the night sky. The roaring boom of an explosion rumbled over the city, followed by a hot, smoky wind.

Overhead, the Arhionvar magic shifted like giant stones getting ready to thunder downhill in an avalanche.

My heart gave a lurch.
Oh, no.
Not Dusk House, not Nevery.

The ground was still shivering as I got to my feet, searching the Twilight for the explosion. But no; this explosion had come from behind me. I whirled to look. Where the dark bulk of the Night Bridge had stood was now a raging ruin of fire, sparks, smoke. From that direction, I heard people screaming and the crackle of flames.

That was four devices accounted for: the one in Dusk House, the one I'd defused in the Dawn Palace, the one on the bridge, and the first one to go off in Nimble's house.

That meant there was just one pyrotechnic device left to find. I could feel time running out as Crowe and Nimble set its fuse. But where was it? Where?

As I turned, searching the light-spangled darkness that was the Twilight, and then the Sunrise, I saw it. Across the water, the next island after Nimble's. Lights were moving inside a building that should've been dark.

Crowe and Nimble. They were there, in Heartsease.

In my home.

C
HAPTER

29

I
had to stop Crowe and Nimble from blowing up Heartsease, and I couldn't wait for Pip to get back from Dusk House to do it. And I couldn't get to Heartsease through the tunnel gates, not without Pip to open the magic locks for me.

I needed a boat. Quick as sticks, I raced across the courtyard to the docks where rowboats were tied for people who weren't wizards and didn't use the secret tunnels. Grabbing the first boat I came to, I untied the rope and shoved out into the dark river water, then dropped the oars into the locks and started rowing toward the lights of Heartsease.

As I rowed, a storm gathered overhead. Slowly clouds started to turn like a giant wheel over the city, heavy green and black, pressing lower and lower. Behind me, a bolt of wind shrieked past; I turned to look and saw it rip over the water, leaving a froth of white waves in its wake. When the wind reached the Twilight shore, it smashed through a warehouse, and I heard the sound of windows shattering. Another blast of wind followed, and this time fire flared where it hit the shore.

The magics were reacting to the pyrotechnics—just as I'd warned Nimble. Time was slipping away. If another pyrotechnic device went off, controlling the magics would be like trying to stop a tornado by gripping its whirling end. The magics would sweep through the city; there'd be whirlwinds and flaming rocks falling from the sky, and the river would surge out of its banks. I wouldn't be able to stop it if it got that bad.

Turning back to the oars, I rowed as hard as I could. The river water grew choppy from the howling wind, and I could feel the magics roiling overhead. Finally the boat bumped up against the black rocks that lined the Heartsease island and I leaped out, then ran past the dark-branched tree and across the cobbled courtyard, keeping an eye out for chimney swifts or minions. The branches of the black tree thrashed in the wind. Most of Heartsease was dark, but lights gleamed from the second floor. Nevery's study.

Quick I skiffed up the stairs, then paused at the study door to catch my breath. From outside came the sound of the wind screaming around Heartsease. But no thunder, no lightning—it wasn't that kind of storm. I had to hurry before it got worse.

Crowe had to be in there, and Nimble. They probably had swifts with them. Without Pip I didn't have magic, but I was a good thief. I had quick hands, steady hands, and I could melt into shadows, and I could stop them—if I was careful.

Holding my breath, I turned the knob and eased open the study door, just a crack big enough to spy through.

Inside the room, I saw a sliver of bookshelf and wavery light coming from a single candle set on the long, wooden table that Nevery and I liked to work at in the evenings. The rest of the room was dark with shadows.

I pushed the door open a little wider. There, over by the fireplace. Crowe had his back to me. He was standing next to Nimble, who was bent over a wooden box with iron handles on it, for carrying. Its wooden lid was off. The pyrotechnic device.

And
there
—on the table behind Nimble. A glass vial full of mirror-bright slowsilver, gleaming in the dim candlelight.

So they hadn't set the fuse yet. All I needed to do was get into the room, snatch the vial, and dump it out so they couldn't use the slowsilver for their locus stone fuse.

Edging closer to the door, I scanned as much of the room as I could see. Had they come without minions or chimney swifts? I couldn't see any big, burly men lurking in the shadows. Maybe they'd sent them to fight at Dusk House. All the better for me.

I pushed the door open wider, wide enough so I could slip through. Neither Crowe nor Nimble noticed; they had their backs to me and were focused on the pyrotechnic bomb.

“Hand me the tongs,” I heard Nimble say. The house shuddered as another gust of wind howled past the island. I couldn't wait any longer.

As Crowe reached into a bag he was carrying, I darted inside and faded into the shadows at the edge of the room. On cat feet, I crept toward the table and the vial of slowsilver.

“Get on with it,” Crowe said. He put his hand in his pocket, and I heard the
tick-tick-tick
of his calculating device.

As I slipped closer and got ready to spring for the slowsilver, a bony hand clamped over my mouth and a snakelike arm went around my throat.

“Mfff!” I got out, and struggled, but the arms held me tightly.

Crowe and Nimble whirled to look.

“Caught a rat sneaking in,” the man holding me grunted. It was Sootle.

I kicked at him, and he lifted me off my feet, his arm tightening around my neck. Black spots swirled in front of my eyes.

“I thought you said he was dead,” I heard Crowe's cold voice say.

“He is!” Nimble shrieked. “He couldn't have survived the explosion at my house on the island.”

“Apparently he did,” Crowe said. “Put him down,” he ordered Sootle. “But hold him tightly. He's slippery.”

Sootle set me on my feet and took his hand away from my mouth, and I gasped for breath. He kept his other arm wrapped around my neck and grabbed my arm and wrenched it behind me so I couldn't move.

“Well, well.” Crowe stepped closer. “You do like to upset my most careful calculations, don't you, Connwaer. But I don't think you're going to get away this time.” He gazed at me for a few moments, and then gave me a cold smile. “In fact, I don't think you're going to like this very much at all.” He glanced at Nimble. “Go down and fetch some rope from the boat. And be sure he didn't bring anybody with him.”

Nimble set down the tourmalifine tongs he'd been holding and went out the door.

“Hm.” Crowe scanned the room, then looked back at me. “Where is your dragon, Connwaer? Has it abandoned you?”

I didn't answer. Looking past him, I saw the vial of slowsilver, still sitting on the table. All I had to do was knock it over. . . .

I wriggled, but Sootle gripped me even more tightly.

Crowe gave a dry laugh. “You do like to struggle, don't you?”

I heard footsteps on the stairs, and Nimble appeared carrying a coil of rope. “Bit of wind out there,” he reported, looking rumpled and pale.

“It's more than a bit of wind,” I put in.

“Keep quiet,” Sootle hissed into my ear.

“It's just a storm,” Crowe said shortly. “Did he come alone?”

“Yes, he's alone,” Nimble said.

“Of course he is,” Crowe said, taking the rope. “If there's one thing I've learned about my nephew here, it's that he's exceptionally stupid about charging into dangerous situations all by himself.”

I wanted to protest—I was getting a lot better at asking for help when I needed it—but this was something I
had
to do to protect the magics. Nobody else could do it for me.

Crowe pointed at the box. “Finish setting the fuse,” he ordered Nimble. He motioned Sootle forward. “Bring him closer so he can see.”

As Sootle dragged me closer, I tried kicking out at the vial of slowsilver, but missed. Sootle jerked my arm higher behind my back. “You can't do this,” I gasped.

“Keep still, little charboy,” Sootle hissed.

“Oh, he'll keep still in a few minutes,” Crowe said gloatingly. “Very, very still.”

My heart started pounding harder. What were they going to do with me?

“I need the locus stone,” Nimble said, from where he was crouched by the box.

“You have to listen,” I said, as dread shuddered through me. “If this device goes off, it'll destroy the whole city.”

Crowe had taken the box made of tourmalifine wires from his bag. Inside it, small and dark as a soft-edged bit of night, was Nevery's locus stone. Crowe paused, and his cold eyes examined me. “What is he talking about, Nimble?”

“Don't listen to him,” Nimble said in his whiny voice. “He's a nosy gutterboy who doesn't know the first thing about magic. Now, I need that stone.”

Crowe nodded. Carefully he opened the tourmalifine box, and Nimble reached in with the tourmalifine tongs. He picked up the stone and brought it to the bigger wooden box.

The box was packed with blackpowder that looked blacker than ink in the dim room. Just like in the other pyrotechnic devices, there was a pile of tourmalifine, shining green crystals in the middle of the inky black. Set around the tourmalifine were three empty saucers.

Holding the tongs tightly, Nimble set Nevery's locus stone into its little nest of tourmalifine crystals. Then he put the tongs on the floor.

As he picked up the vial of slowsilver, his hands shook. He'd never make a good thief or lockpick.

“Get on with it,” Crowe snapped.

Slowly Nimble poured slowsilver into each of the waiting saucers. The slowsilver swirled and sparked. “There,” he said in his whiny voice. “The fuse is set.”

Crowe handed him the wooden lid, and Nimble put it carefully on the box; then Crowe turned to me. “Now, Connwaer, I want you to kneel beside the box.”

“No,” I said, and tried squirming out of Sootle's grip, my shoulder shooting fire as he wrenched my arm back again.

“Don't be stupid,” Crowe said, holding up a chiding finger. “If you struggle, you'll bump the box, and set off the explosion.” He smiled. “You don't want to do that, do you?”

No, I didn't. I had no choice. With Sootle still gripping me by the shoulders, I knelt beside the box. It came up to the middle of my chest.

“Lean over the box,” Crowe ordered.

I did as he said, very careful not to bump it. Sootle's hand clamped down on the back of my neck, keeping me in place. Crowe grabbed one of my hands and, using the rope Nimble had brought up from the boat, lashed my wrist to the iron handle on one side of the box. Then he did the same on the other side.

“All right,” he said, and Sootle's hand let me go.

And there I was, tied to the pyrotechnic device. When it exploded, I would explode with it, and the magics would rip through the city until there was nothing left of it.

I heard Nimble gathering his things, and Sootle thump down the staircase, followed by Nimble's lighter hurrying footsteps. When they opened the door, I heard the howl of the wind and then a shrieking crash as it slammed into a building in the Twilight. Ignoring the noise, Crowe stood in the middle of the room, watching me. “This has such a satisfying rightness about it,” he said, with a thin sliver of a smile.

“I could bump it right now,” I said. The box, I meant. Blow myself up, and take Crowe with me.

“You could,” Crowe said calmly, almost as if we were having an ordinary conversation. “But I don't think you will. Because I know you, Nephew, and I know you're always looking for a way out. Up to now, you've found it. But this time I think your luck has run out.”

Drats, he was right about that. For me and the magics.

Crowe bent so he was looking straight into my eyes. “Now, Connwaer,” he said. His hand went into his pocket, and I heard the
tick-tick
of the clicker device. “You don't have much time before the device explodes, and you'll want to cling to every second. You cannot do anything except stay very, very still.”

With that, he left.