“No.” I grabbed his arm. “We’re not leaving. This is the only way—”
“It isn’t the only way.” Rook brushed a strand of hair from my forehead. “You don’t have to be a sorcerer. We’ll leave for Sussex or Kent. They need teachers there, as well as servants. Or we can fight, head for the army on our own terms now that we know we’ve both got power.” He whispered that last part to avoid Lilly’s hearing. “We’ll start again. Together.”
“You know there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to keep you safe.” I gasped, the tears coming now whether I wanted them or not.
“I can keep you safe, too,” he whispered. “We keep each other safe.”
“Yes.” I wiped my eyes with my handkerchief. “Bournemouth could be beautiful this time of year.”
“Exactly! We can leave at first light tomorrow, all this in the past. We could be by the seaside.”
Wouldn’t that be heavenly? I imagined some stretch of pebbled beach with waves breaking on it. I could feel the water lapping against my bare feet, my ankles grainy with sand. Perhaps we’d head to Devon, where Aunt Agnes still lived in her little cottage. She’d see how I’d grown up and resolve to forget all the ugliness of the past. I imagined her embracing us and ushering us inside with tea already laid out before a hot fire.
What a silly fantasy. We both knew what life awaited us outside the ward. Starvation and scorn beckoned, accusations of witchcraft and hatred for the Unclean. If we weren’t killed for our abilities, we would more than likely open ourselves to the Ancients’ attack. Now when I envisioned that stretch of beach, I saw Nemneris the Water Spider lunging out of the waves.
“No. The only chance we have is for me to be commended. I need to improve my lessons, and you try to keep from screaming too loudly in the night. Even if that means using the paste.” I was asking him to suppress his power for my sake. What a hypocrite I was. “Lord Blackwood has a good remedy for the pain,” I said lamely.
“We can’t trust them, Nettie.” He was firm. “We shouldn’t have to play a part to gain their acceptance.”
He was right. In a perfect world, we would be able to declare our abilities openly. Then again, in a perfect world there would be no war against seven vicious monsters. “We must work together.”
“So you can be commended?” His voice sounded hollow. The connection we’d shared in the kitchen snapped, and I felt him drifting out of my reach again. “Perhaps it would be best for all if I went to Lord Blackwood’s colony.”
“No!” Lilly cried. She blushed.
“No,” I said, taking his hand. “I’ve done this so the pair of us can have a better chance at life.”
“Yes. The pair of us.” After a moment of silence, he said, “It was selfish of me to ask you to run.”
“Once I’m commended, we can show Agrippa your talents,” I whispered.
“No. Right now they need the light, not more darkness.” He leaned forward, fast, and planted a kiss on the top of my head. “You should rest.” He got off the bed and left. Lilly promised to return with some tea before rushing after him. Alone, I lay down and thought. Whatever Rook believed of my intentions, all I wanted was for us both to be safe. Between his secret and mine, everything now relied on my commendation.
And I knew where I would have to go, and whom I would have to see, in order to succeed.
Two days later, I walked toward Ha’penny Row during my free afternoon. I clutched a bundle of bread and cheese to my chest. I’d have taken wine as well, but the butler counted the bottles and I didn’t want any of the servants to get in trouble.
A thin layer of yellow grime covered the ward. This time, slicing through was slightly harder than cutting a cobweb. Palehook wasn’t doing his job well.
“?’Scuse me, miss,” a young man with a gruff voice said as he stumbled into me.
“It’s all right,” I replied. He shoved past and strode away.
I continued to Hargrove’s, nearly treading on a black crow that pecked for grain in the road. I marveled at its wingspan as it soared upward to land on a rooftop. The bird joined a small cluster of other crows and ravens. By the time I’d turned off the street, I counted ten, all singing above us.
—
“I TOLD YOU TO BRING ME drink,” Hargrove said as I handed the food to the children. I couldn’t give the bundle to him, as he was slitting open a long spool of bloodied intestine that lay on the table. The smell was hideous. One of the children thrust open a window in a bid for fresh air.
“What are you doing?” I wrinkled my nose.
“These are the innards of a white sow. I bought them off a fellow in Shoreditch, a steal at a tuppence. He says he fed her a penny with the queen’s face on both sides. Numismatomancy is divination through money. That coin will reveal wonders to me.”
“Such as why you spent two pennies to purchase one?”
“Hilarious.” He sliced away, brow furrowed as he inspected the bloody entrails. “This is your magical heritage, my little weasel. Show some respect.” Sure I’d be sick, I removed my hood. Hargrove’s eyebrows shot up. “You look terrible. When’s the last time you slept?”
“I don’t look that awful.”
Hargrove gestured to one of the children. “Get the family mirror.”
The child handed me a cracked looking glass before I could object. Even if my reflection hadn’t been fractured, the damage was plain enough. My eyes were dark and sunken, my complexion pallid. I’d lost weight.
The dreams of R’hlem had kept me up again. That was three nights in a row. I feared it was becoming a pattern. “I don’t sleep.”
“Why not?”
My patience at an end, I made a wincing face. “Guess.”
“I know you didn’t want to come back here.” He kicked a chair toward me, an invitation to sit. “You’re a prideful little creature, eh?”
I doubted a smart remark would make him want to help me. “Teach me to be a magician.”
“But I thought you were a sorcerer. Last time you were here you shouted it through the streets.” He wagged a bloody finger at me.
“I can’t work with their magic. You said you’d help me.” My nerves were frayed enough as it was. My head started to pound.
“Why should I?”
“For my father’s sake.”
“Yes, but now that I’ve thought about it, I’ve realized that is a spectacularly good way to die. I like myself alive,” he sniffed. I slammed Porridge onto the table, careful to avoid the entrails.
“If I’m commended, I could try getting the ban on magician apprentices lifted.”
He considered this. “I can’t imagine that would be an easy fight.”
“Nevertheless, I’ll do it if you help me.”
“Yes, but I also want money. Twelve pounds, specifically. I’ve a project in mind that requires a certain sum.”
Twelve bloody pounds? Where was I supposed to get that? “What do you need it for?”
“Rule number one: as my apprentice, you don’t ask nosy questions.”
If he got me commended, I’d commit highway robbery. I would find a way. “You’ll have to take it in bits. I can’t manage it all at once.”
He nodded. “That and a bottle of wine next time you come will seal the deal.”
Relieved, I tried to hand Porridge to him. “Show me what to do.”
“I can’t use that,” he said, wiping his hands on a cloth. “Magicians can’t handle staves, darling girl.”
“I thought you said I was a magician.” Pain throbbed in my temple. Why was everything so bloody complicated?
“Well, you might have an outmoded ability. Magicians are descended from sorcerers, after all. Your father was always vocal about uniting our two societies once again. Pity he drowned when he did.”
“What was he like?” Despite my exhaustion, my heart sped up. No one had ever spoken to me about my father before. Aunt Agnes told me that he was a good solicitor and a poor sailor, and not to ask questions.
“Friendly, witty, always ready with a joke. That was the Welsh in him. Intelligent, to be sure, though a bit quick-tempered. Like father, like daughter. Can you really do that whole set-yourself-on-fire thing?”