With that, he shuffled out the door and into the hall. I heard him collect his hat and coat, and call for his carriage. Agrippa said nothing; apparently the Imperator was allowed to be rude.
Palehook took my hand in his. His eyes searched mine, a small smile playing on his lips. “My dear girl,” he said. “Happy day, is it not? The queen shall commend you. Yes, Cornelius,” he said, nodding. “The Imperator has spoken. You may train her. The Order grants permission.”
—
WE WENT TO DINNER, WHERE THE aromas overwhelmed me. There was buttery oyster soup, roast duck with cherries, a succulent leg of mutton, a rib of beef, marrow and potatoes, three types of vegetables, and a plum pudding. Sorcerers ate better than kings, I decided. I’d been too nervous to eat before, but I wanted to make up for that. I yearned to tuck in with the most unladylike relish possible, but I managed to contain myself. Brimthorn had schooled its girls in nice table manners.
“A toast,” Agrippa said, raising a glass, “to our lady sorcerer.”
The gentlemen joined him. Looking down the candlelit table, seeing all these men toasting me, I felt as if I’d entered some bizarre dream world. Nervous, I tried some wine, coughing at the taste.
“Once you’ve received Her Majesty’s commendation,” Palehook said, sawing at his duck, “you’ll be the most admired woman in all of London. We shall host a ball in your honor, Mrs. Palehook and I. Of course, there’s certain to be an undercurrent of nasty gossip. The masses are always ready to condemn a young lady of such independence. But you needn’t worry, Miss Howel. I’ve seven daughters, did you know? They should be glad to meet such a charming and unusual girl. To get on well in society, why, the Misses Palehook might be instrumental.” His tone indicated I must force myself to become chummy with his daughters. He was apparently used to getting his way.
“I suppose they might.” While Palehook intimidated me more than I cared to admit, I bristled at his veiled order. I would choose my own friends. Taking a sip of water, I said nothing else. Magnus elbowed Cellini. This exchange had captured his attention.
“Mmm.” Palehook took a bite of potato. “Cornelius tells me you’ve an Unclean friend who’s joined this household as a servant. We typically send the Unclean away, you know. To a colony near Brighton, where they might live peacefully.”
“I’m sure Rook will be peaceful here,” I said, keeping my tone pleasant. “You have nothing to worry about.”
Palehook nodded. “We shall see.” Before I could respond, he turned to Blackwood. “Your father designed that system, did he not, Blackwood?”
“He did,” Blackwood said without looking at Palehook. I got the feeling he didn’t much like the sorcerer. Well, that was at least one thing we had in common.
“He was a great man. You must be careful not to let down the family name. You work hard, but you haven’t your father’s charm. Well, children cannot inherit everything.”
Blackwood nodded, his eyes fixed on his plate. “Yes, sir. How right you are.”
I couldn’t think of any response to this shocking display of rudeness.
“Cornelius also tells me the boy’s scars probably came from Korozoth,” Palehook said, turning back to me as if nothing had happened. “And as you know, Korozoth often attacks London. This puts all of us in a precarious position. But for you, we will make an exception and allow this boy to live behind the ward.”
“Rook is the best person I know,” I said, clenching my fist. This was not the time for going up in accidental flames. “The Order is so wise and kind to show him mercy.” I swirled the wine in my glass, watching it catch the candlelight and make a beautiful, glowing pattern of red on the tablecloth.
Palehook nodded. “Of course. No matter what the cost to us, Miss Howel, we will do most anything to please you.” His words didn’t feel as nice as they sounded. “For women, as we all know, are the most simple and tenderhearted of God’s creatures.”
My temper rose. I gripped my glass as the fire practically danced under my skin. Palehook seemed the sort to subtly draw out another person’s anger. Everyone had their eyes fixed on us, looking back and forth as if we were characters in a play.
“Women are tender, of course,” Cellini said, lifting his eyebrows. “Much more tender than men. But women can also be wise. Don’t you find, sir?”
“Oh, certainly,” Palehook said with a nonchalant wave of his hand.
“Many sorcerers choose an area in which to become an expert,” Agrippa said, desperate to steer the conversation to a safer shore. “Isaac wants to be a warder, as successful as our dear Master here.” Palehook nodded at the compliment. “And Julian seems to think going into the navy would be a good option.”
“What’s wrong with the navy? Pounding Nemneris the old Water Spider herself into submission? I think it’s brilliant of me,” Magnus said, humble as ever.
“What about you?” I asked Lambe, seated beside me. He had barely touched his dinner, preferring to arrange and rearrange the vegetables and meat on his plate into odd shapes.
“I’ll become a Speaker, a soothsayer,” he whispered. I knew that prophetic ability was rare in the sorcerer community. Lambe was probably the only boy here who’d tested positive for those skills. Honestly, I should have guessed it before. He seemed a bit detached from everything going on around him. He spoke to people as if he were half asleep.
“Mr. Lambe has quite a talent,” Palehook said.
“Speakers live in a monastery in Northumberland, on the border of Scotland,” Lambe said. “It will be a quiet life.”
“There’s no need to go all the way up north,” Wolff said. He frowned. “There’s plenty of work to be done in the Order’s service down here, you know.” It sounded like an argument they’d had several times before. I noticed that whenever Wolff spoke, Lambe lost that dreamy, unfocused look.
“I must go where I’m needed,” he said. Wolff began cutting into his food with a vengeance, as though his chop had done him some serious wrong.
“Would nothing compel you to remain in our society?” Palehook asked. Lambe considered this.
“If the slab of obsidian breaks,” he said slowly, “I will remain.”
What an odd thing to say.
“Another toast,” Magnus said, lifting his glass. “To lady sorcerers, and the spirit of change.”
At the word change, Palehook nearly spit his wine. Magnus winked. Apparently, he had chosen my side. I hoped he’d chosen rightly.
Gentlemen and ladies spent time apart after supper. Being the only lady, I was forced to wait in the drawing room for fifteen minutes by myself. I paced and stared at portraits. One young woman’s image caught my attention. She was a lovely yellow-haired girl in a blue gown. A placard at the bottom of the frame read GWENDOLYN AGRIPPA.
There was something familiar about her, though I couldn’t place it. Then I realized that the gown in the painting was the same one I wore now. I flinched and looked away. Poor Agrippa.
“Sublime, wasn’t she?” a voice behind me said. Palehook helped himself to a glass of brandy. I didn’t like his watchful gaze, and hoped the others would arrive soon. “I always thought Miss Agrippa to be among the brightest lights in our society. Her death was an incalculable loss.” He sipped. “You have much to live up to.”
“I’m not here to replace Miss Agrippa,” I said, a bit stiffly. “I’m here to become a sorcerer.”
“Mmm,” he said. “Of course.” He moved away as the others entered the room. I turned back to the portrait, glad to have Palehook’s attention off me. I kept thinking about what he’d said regarding Rook and the colony in Brighton. They wouldn’t send him away, would they? I tried my best to appear at ease, but I doubt I succeeded.
Twenty minutes later, Palehook mercifully left. We bid farewell at the front door, and I had to let him kiss my hand. He smiled. “Until we meet again, my dear,” he said, taking his hat and coat and walking out. At last.
Magnus stood beside me. “What’s wrong?” he whispered. Damn. I wasn’t hiding my feelings as well as I’d hoped.