The Master Magician

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.

Staying on the lit streets, albeit out of the way, Ceony meandered by a noisy inn and peeked through a window unshielded by curtains, scanning the faces within, listening to the music a young balding man banged on a piano in the corner. She wished she had more to go on but also hoped she wouldn’t find anything substantial. She’d considered bringing the paper bird that had alerted her of Reading, but the creature was so damaged it had ceased to hold its animation.

Stifling a yawn with the back of her hand, Ceony continued onward, taking one road and then another, avoiding dark alleys, using a Folded telescope to peer down lanes. She found no mirrors or bits of reflective glass to cast upon and eventually crossed the street to avoid a laughing, inebriated couple who stumbled over the pavement. Eventually Ceony followed a line of blue-lit lanterns toward the bank of the River Kennet, which wound down from the River Thames and sliced through the south side of Reading. She kept clear of the docks, wanting to keep a safe distance from the water at all times. She still hadn’t learned how to swim, though Emery had mentioned wanting to teach her. Modesty, of course, was an issue, as was her unabated fear of drowning.

The flapping of paper reached her ears, and Ceony looked up to see one of her songbirds, Folded from black paper, descending to her. It hovered at eye level for a moment before backflipping in the air.

“You found something?” Ceony asked, voice low. How she wished these animated spells could talk! “Show me.”

The bird flew over Ceony’s shoulder and down a bend in the next street, winding closer to the river. Clasping the pistol inside her bag, Ceony hurried after it, not quite running. The dark spell disappeared between streetlamps, blending in with the night sky, but it didn’t fly so fast that Ceony couldn’t keep track of it.

It took her past a four-story building rowed with windows, a Victorian-esque structure waving a flag from its chimney, and a dark building that looked like a cross between a schoolhouse and a barn. A sign near its door read “Simond’s Brewery.” Only one of its windows—on the third floor—was dimly lit.

Canals branching from River Kennet looped through this part of Reading. Ceony grit her teeth as she hurried over a short bridge crossing the still water. Here the enchanted lamps, shorter than those in the other part of town, had Pyre-made flames that changed from lime to fuchsia, perhaps to draw attention to the waterline. Their reflections off the canal’s surface looked like lily pads, but Ceony tried not to stare at the water too closely. She had more critical things to fear at the moment.

The black songbird landed on a sign that read “Kennet and Avon Canal, Authorized Vehicles Only.” Ceony reached it, huffing to catch her breath. The little bird flew down into her hands, where she commanded it, “Cease,” and tucked it into her bag.

She searched the area, noting a bench by the canal, as well as a drooping tree that had seen better days. Another bridge led to a dock behind her.