The Master Magician

Studying the road before her—it was barely large enough to fit two buggies—Ceony wondered if this very path had been taken by Saraj and his entourage, or if she had missed the mark entirely. Surely the law would have taken him by way of ferry between Haslar and Portsmouth, unless they feared him traversing open water, bound or not.

A cool, salt-laced breeze caressed Ceony’s ears, pulling her thoughts toward the ocean. She remembered standing on Foulness Island with Lira two years ago. The Excisioner—little more than an apprentice herself—had dropped blood in the water to send a wave crashing into Ceony’s backside, ruining most of Ceony’s paper spells. What could Saraj Prendi do with the sea if he had enough blood at his disposal?

She shook herself, glanced at the sun. This was no time to dawdle.

Leaving the road and journeying closer to town than to the military post, Ceony pinched her paper starlight marked “in 1744” and rebonded herself to paper. Finding a small clearing not too overrun with tall grass and briars, she knelt down and started Folding. Emery had a silly rule about Folding in one’s lap, but she could hardly drag a board all the way down here with her. Folding on her thighs did require more concentration, however.

She formed several paper songbirds, a simple spell she had learned at the beginning of her apprenticeship. She made four: two white, one yellow, one red.

“Breathe,” she said.

The paper creatures came to life in her hands, as if her one word had instilled them with souls. She pinched the bases of their bodies to keep them from flitting away.

“We’re searching for some specific things,” she said to their beaks. “Search the area, a few miles’ worth if you can. Look for broken pieces of carriages, skid marks, perhaps signs of a fight. Wide-spaced footprints. Blood on the street or in the soil. A thin Indian man with a narrow face.”

She paused, considering. “And any mirrors or other glass surfaces that are outdoors, away from the naval base.” If luck was with her and she could find a mirror with a wide view of the area, she might be able to dig into its past and see Saraj for herself. “Fly back to me if you see any of these things.”

The birds flapped their pointed wings, and Ceony released them, letting a second breeze glide them into the air. One of the white spells and the red spell flew toward town together; the other two split up, one gliding toward the coast, the other back up the road on which Ceony had arrived.

Any passersby would think them mail birds. And if Saraj spotted one, hopefully it would spot him. A double-edged sword was more useful than no weapon at all.

In the meantime, Ceony walked.

She stayed on the road for a while, keeping note of the passing time. Perhaps Emery would stay late in Dartford and she wouldn’t have to worry about punctuality, but she doubted it. The paper magician wasn’t overly fond of business trips, whatever their purpose.

The thought of Emery sent Ceony’s mind back to the ugly scene in Parliament Square. Overheard them talking, she wondered as she walked. What had her parents been discussing, and so loudly that Zina could overhear? Then again, Zina’s knack for snooping rivaled Ceony’s own. She was angry with her sister . . . Of course she was, but her primary concern was for her family’s safety. Did Saraj know what all of them looked like? But even if Saraj hadn’t fled the country, he couldn’t have made it to London already, not on foot. And why would he go somewhere so populated? Unless he had a specific purpose in traveling to the capital . . . but Ceony couldn’t imagine what that would be, outside of finding her.

Too risky, even for him, isn’t it? she thought. Surely he’s fled. I shouldn’t even be trying to prove otherwise.

Both Emery and Mg. Aviosky, people she trusted implicitly, had assured her that her family would be safe, so perhaps she should leave Criminal Affairs’ affairs be.

Still, if she had worried more about Delilah, perhaps things would have turned out differently. She had to know for sure.

Soon Ceony ventured off road, scanning the uncultivated lengths between the naval base and the town, searching for the things she’d tasked the birds with finding. She came across a patch of flattened grass about an hour in and, after bonding to glass, took a rubber-lined circle of the material from her purse and commanded it, “Magnify.” The glass, little larger than the front of a picture frame, immediately turned into a looking glass, enlarging the crushed grass at her feet. She found nothing unusual.

“Criminy, Ceony, it’s like shagging the principal,” her sister’s voice intruded on her thoughts. “Isn’t he a divorcé?”

Zina had said it so loudly. And in such crude language!

She swatted the thoughts away. “Focus on Saraj,” she chided herself. “He’s the bigger problem.”

Another half hour later, her feet growing weary, one of the white birds returned, fluttering tired wings. Ceony rebonded to paper and beckoned it down.