My head swam. “Astral plane?”
“Another magician trick. Our souls may leave our bodies and wander the spirit dimension. Sorcerers can’t do that. That’s how I got into your room and gave you that delicious apple. Anyway, we’re getting off topic. Suffice it to say I knew your father, and after his death, Agnes told me that Helena had given birth to a daughter and that the poor widow had died from complications in the delivery. We fell out of contact after that, and I thought no more of it. Until all this happened.” He leaned over the table. “Which is why I’m trying to help you. You’re in a dangerous position.”
“Yes, because of the Ancients,” I croaked.
“No, because of monsters closer and more cunning than old R’hlem could ever be. If they discover that you’re really a magician…”
“Don’t threaten me,” I snapped.
“Threaten? Why should you feel threatened? After all, no one’s ever tortured you. No one’s forced you into giving the locations and names of other magicians, so they can be added to the sorcerers’ files on magic-born.” He rolled up his long sleeves and extended his dark, wiry arms toward me. White and gray scars lined his skin, along with old, cauterized wounds that looked suspiciously like burn marks. My hand flew to my mouth. “No one’s told you, have they, that magicians are demented versions of sorcerers? Or even worse, that we’re the descendants of the devil himself? But I’m certain you’ll never face that. After all, you can perform their magic.”
Blackwood had said that magicians were evil, his face twisted in disgust. Agrippa had spoken freely about how horrid they were. Magicians were obscene, deceitful, dirty….
“I can’t be one of you! I’m a sorcerer!” I knocked the chair over as I backed away. My legs were so weak I almost stumbled. “This is a trick. You’re trying to get money, like you did on the street. Liar!”
“I can hear your terror,” Hargrove said, sneering as he rose. Perhaps I’d wounded his pride. “You’re right to be afraid. Do you know what they’ll do when they find out you’re a magician?” His voice turned cold. “They’ll toss you out of that nice house and onto the street. They’ll drag you before the queen and have you put your name down as a potential threat. And if you so much as breathe in a manner they don’t like, they’ll cut all your pretty hair from your pretty head and bind you in chains. And they’ll take you out on a cold gray morning and sweep a shining ax through the air and straight into your pretty little—”
“Shut up!” I screamed. A burst of flame shot out of my body. Hargrove collapsed to the floor as the fireball exploded in the air. He laughed.
“So temperamental. The magic reacts to that very nicely.” Hargrove rolled his sleeves down. “Come back when you can’t perform their spells and your Master gets truly nervous. Come back if you ever want to know a little bit more about your own father.” He dusted himself off and returned to the table. Seated, he tipped the gin bottle to his lips and recovered only a few drops. “And when you come back, bring food and drink, will you?”
—
ONCE BACK INSIDE AGRIPPA’S HOUSE, I collapsed at the end of the foyer, shaking so hard I couldn’t take my gloves off. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t. It felt as if a hand were squeezing my heart. What was I going to do? What on earth could I do?
A girl-child of sorcerer stock rises from the ashes of a life. Sorcerer. Not magician. Not me. But I couldn’t be a magician.
“Miss, there you are! Where were you?” Lilly said, dragging me to my feet. Her blue eyes were huge. “The master wants to see you in the library at once, with all the young gentlemen.” For a terrifying moment, I thought he’d discovered where I’d gone. But then I recalled we were to have a class in the library this afternoon and—murder it all, I was late.
I found them seated near the windows. The fellows all turned as one when I entered. Agrippa had rolled up his sleeves and was dipping his hands into a silver bowl of water.
“Miss Howel,” Agrippa said as I sat down beside Dee. “I was about to send out a search party. Where in God’s name were you?” He looked simultaneously relieved and irritated.
“I’m sorry. I lost track of time walking around the neighborhood.” The words sounded distant, as if someone else were speaking. “I needed the air.”
Agrippa sighed. “I understand that last night was an ordeal, but that is no excuse for missing lessons. All right?”
“I’m sorry.” Even I could hear how shallow my breathing was. Blackwood, seated on my other side, regarded me with interest.
Agrippa dipped his hands into the bowl of water again and said, “Now, let’s start with easy questions for Miss Howel’s benefit. What is the difference between hydromancy and traditional water play?”
Dee’s hand shot up. Blackwood said, “Water play controls the element of water itself, such as parting the seas. Hydromancy uses water as a magical tool, often as a mirror to another location.”
“Well put. Hydromancy, along with pyromancy, geomancy, and aeromancy, is one of the few sorcerer skills that magicians tried to relearn after the Great Magic Schism of 1526. If they wanted our abilities so much, they shouldn’t have struck out on their own.” The boys chuckled.
I coughed violently. Dee thumped me on the back.
“Get her a glass of water,” Magnus said. He’d draped himself along a chair, his arm flung dramatically over his eyes. “Poor Howel. I’m so bored I could choke to death as well.”
Agrippa used his stave to swirl the water into the air, spreading it until it resembled a large pane of glass. He instructed on how to project a specific location on the hydromancy mirror. I listened, but Agrippa’s voice kept morphing into Hargrove’s. In my imagination, Hargrove’s smile became sinister as he dealt the cards on the table. He showed me the Queen of Wands, frowned, and tore it up. Then he dealt the Magician card and laughed. There you are, he said, stroking his bearded chin. You’re a magician, Miss Howel. Miss Howel.
“Miss Howel!” Agrippa said. I nearly fell out of my seat. “Are you listening?”
“I’m sorry. What?” I dug my fingers into the chair’s arm to steady myself.
“Where does Cornwall stand in the war?” All eyes were fixed on me. Agrippa seemed concerned. “Are you sure you’re well?”
On the pane of water glass, the cliffs of Cornwall appeared in perfect likeness. “Um, yes.” My tongue felt heavy, and I swallowed. Sweat beaded at my temples. “Cornwall sustains a great deal of attacks, second only to London in frequency. The west in particular has long been under siege. No one is sure why, as it’s not heavily populated. Nemneris the Water Spider is the Ancient most often tasked with plaguing the area.”
“Good. What are we doing to counter these attacks?”
Dee waved his hand back and forth. As Wolff discussed the ward we were trying to design to shield the cliffs, Blackwood leaned to my ear and whispered, “Where were you?”
“Out.” I snatched pen and paper and tried to take notes. Mercifully, he said no more.
We addressed the situation in Lancashire, where Her Majesty had dispatched additional forces to protect the cotton manufacturers. “There’ve been calls to evacuate,” Wolff said, shaking his head sadly. “But the workers have nowhere else to go. They’d die sooner than lose their livelihood.”
We glimpsed Yorkshire. “Nothing much to report up that way,” Agrippa said as the moorland appeared. “Besides warded London, Yorkshire is the safest place to be in this war.”
We discussed why the north remained relatively untouched (fewer tempting resources, coupled with difficult terrain), while London and the coast received the greatest amount of abuse (R’hlem wanted to destroy the government, capture the queen, and decimate the Royal Navy). Much of it was lost to me; my blood was so loud in my ears. Agrippa turned us again toward Cornwall. “Admiral Ethermane leads the fleet against Nemneris. What is his new plan with regard to combating the Water Spider?”