Did well? “What does that mean? How are you doing this? What do you want from me?” He didn’t respond, only came to offer me his hand. I rose without it and backed toward the fire. Wherever I went in the room, he moved after me at a leisurely gait. He seemed to take enormous pleasure in my confusion. I tried a different tack. “Are the Ancients attacking London because of the scent of magic?” There. That finally stopped him. “You’re attacking us because so many magic users live inside the ward, aren’t you?”
R’hlem sneered. “Ask your great men what sins they’ve committed.” Sins? Now he regarded me with real interest. “Who told you this?”
I wouldn’t give Hargrove away. “I want to wake up now.”
R’hlem strode toward me. Before I could dodge him, he grabbed me by the wrist. His touch was slippery and cold. Bloody. I screamed and struggled. His grip tightened. He was squeezing hard enough to break my—
—
“HOWEL?” MAGNUS SHOOK ME AWAKE. I swung about blindly, sending paper flying all across the desk. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you were so determined to sleep.”
“I must have nodded off,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes. Magnus grabbed my wrist.
“Did you cut yourself?” Looking down, I discovered fingerprints shining wet with blood. I pulled away and wiped off the marks with my handkerchief.
“I scratched myself when I was out in the garden. It must’ve bled more than I thought,” I said lamely. What would have happened had Magnus not woken me? Perhaps he would’ve discovered my mangled corpse at this desk. Trying to appear preoccupied, I grasped my pen and looked over a piece of paper. Magnus watched me with his back against the hearth. After a minute, I gave in. “Yes?”
“I was just wondering,” he said, arms crossed over his chest, “why you were outside the ward today.”
I dropped the pen. “I wasn’t.”
“You were, and you clobbered that raven with a blast of wind. I planned to join in the fray myself, but it was over before I could do anything. Why were you there?”
I stood and turned away from him. “I didn’t see you follow me.”
“You spoke to me.”
“I didn’t.” I looked back at him, confused. “When?”
He hunched himself and shouldered past. “?’Scuse me, miss,” he said in a gruff, familiar tone.
“You were the fellow who bumped into me? How did you know where I was going?”
“I saw you sneaking down to the kitchen for food, so I followed. Why did you go?”
“I wanted to bring something to that horrible magician Hargrove’s children. Please don’t tell Master Agrippa.” I realized I’d given Magnus power over me. Damn.
“How did you have such control over the wind? You couldn’t even lift a feather during lessons this morning.”
“Sometimes when you have to do something, you find you can.” Would he accept that and say no more?
Magnus nodded. “I suppose that makes sense. You did well, actually, battling that thing. Hideous beasts, aren’t they?”
“Yes. Were you aware that Familiars sometimes attack the unwarded area during the day?” I felt ill recalling the carnage I’d witnessed.
He looked uncomfortable. “No. The Order likes to keep secrets from us, don’t you think?” He spun a globe that sat atop the desk, skimming his fingers across the Pacific Ocean.
“We should do something about it.”
“We will. Once we’re commended, we can change things.” He leaned against the desk, the image of confidence.
“You believe that, don’t you?”
“I never have any trouble believing in myself.” He smiled, but there was no cockiness in his expression. “And I was right to believe in you. In time, you’ll be a great sorcerer.”
“Do you think?”
“Yes.” He said it without doubt or hesitation.
“Why?” I asked, without thinking.
“Why what?”
“Why are you so kind to me?” I lowered my eyes. Somehow I felt very exposed.
“Because I’m wonderful. Hadn’t you noticed?”
“No,” I said. “Why have you never doubted my place as a sorcerer?”
His smile faded a bit. “Because I’ve seen how a woman is treated when she dares to step outside her domain.” He went to stand before the fire. There was pain in his eyes, something I’d never seen before. “After Father died, my uncle thought I needed to be raised by men. I was a Magnus, after all. We’re warriors, have been since before Rome fell. He wanted to raise me himself, but Mother fought to keep me. She endured many great men bullying her, telling her what a little fool she was, that I’d grow up weak. Weak like a woman.” He winced. “Mother never yielded. Have I turned out so very bad?” He looked up as I came beside him.
“No.” I smiled.
“So. When I see a lady go up against a group of men who claim to know better than she does, I find I want her to succeed. You will succeed, Howel.”
My cheeks grew hot.
“I’ll have a better chance of success once I get my blasted lessons down. There’s still so much I don’t know.” I moved to the desk to straighten my papers. “Reading only takes me so far.”
Magnus came up beside me. “I’m the very soul of experience. Let me tutor you.”
“In what?”
“Whatever you wish.” He raised an eyebrow. “Name anything.”
I thought for a moment. “How did you bespell me into not recognizing you on the street?”
“Who said it was magic?” He laughed and clapped his hands. “That’s what an actor does, my dear Howel. He shows you what you want to see.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Another question, my intrepid lady?”
I recalled Hargrove sheathing his silver blade. “Why don’t sorcerers employ more human weapons? Maybe it would be useful against some Familiars, if not the Ancients themselves.”
“Well, we do train in sabers and pistols,” Magnus said. Lord, didn’t I know it. The first time I fired a gun, I’d been thrown to the ground.
“But do we use them much in battle?”
Magnus gave a surprised laugh. “I suppose that’s a topic to discuss with the Imperator. Anyway, we use some blades more than others.” His eyes lit up. “How’s this for helpful? I’ll instruct you in another class of weaponry, one you haven’t yet learned. You should handle it a bit better than the pistols.”
Magnus was the finest warrior in our house, without question. Anything he had to teach would be massively helpful. “Thank you, yes.”
“They’re called warded blades. Master Agrippa wanted to wait until you’d a few more maneuvers in hand, but I see no reason to hold off. You take the ward you draw up around yourself, slide it down your arm to your stave, and fashion it with your thoughts into a weapon. Like this.” He took his stave and activated it with the name Excalibur. “What?” he said when I laughed. “I loved the Arthur legend when I was fourteen. That was right before I noticed how exciting girls were. Good thing I didn’t get my stave later, or I might have named it Louisa. Or Marianne. Or Emily.”
“Perhaps we should start before you name every girl in London,” I said.
He showed me how to put the ward up about myself, how to imagine that protective bubble shrinking on my body and gathering in my arm, and then how to slide it off my arm and onto my stave. “With enough practice, you’ll be able to create the blade with a simple thought. Now you see it, faint yellow and pointed. This will cut better than a human sword.”
Indeed, the outline was scarcely visible, but when I put my thumb to the blade it sliced me. Magnus showed me how to hold the stave, my index and middle fingers on top for balance. “Now your movement stays central. Always keep the torso firm,” he said, placing a hand on my stomach. “As the weapon is light, you’ll want more control. Movement comes from your shoulder, not your elbow.” With Magnus lined up behind me, I created a few elegant sweeps. After that, he taught me some simple parries. We bumped into chairs and knocked over the desk globe.