We dropped out of the sky before the steps to St. Paul’s. The enormous entrance was, of course, locked.
“Damn,” Magnus said as the moon appeared from behind the clouds. Above us, dark shapes skimmed the dome, leaving bright yellow streaks.
“What are they doing?” Wolff said, turning in a circle as he watched them.
“The ward is thin, my young friends. They’re looking for a way in, but they won’t find one yet.” Mickelmas cleared his throat.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Agrippa had a point. You realize that if we save Rook, the ward will likely fall. If you do this, you could be executed for treason.” Murmurs passed among the boys. They hadn’t considered that.
“I don’t care,” I said.
“Of course not. You’re attached to the boy. For my part, I’m willing to do it as a way of atonement. But the young gentlemen must understand.” He turned to them. “This isn’t a game. Are you prepared for what you may unleash tonight?”
The boys looked at each other, wide-eyed. Even knowing what Agrippa had said, they’d not thought about this in their zeal to help Rook. Truth be told, I hadn’t really thought it through myself. The idea of all those creatures descending on the people asleep in their beds left me cold.
Blackwood broke the silence. “The outside’s lain vulnerable for years. People have been murdered.” He caught my eye and nodded. “No one innocent life is worth more than another. Ever.” We all murmured our agreement. Every one of us felt the weight of the moment on our backs.
Magnus blasted the wooden door, which opened with a splintering crack. We raced down the echoing nave toward the crypt. I slowed to run alongside a wheezing Mickelmas.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m not in the great condition I once was. Come to think of it, I was never in the great condition I once was.”
“Thank you for coming back for me.”
“I had to. It was the only way to find my cloak and chest.”
“Oh.”
“I suppose I didn’t want you to die, either. There’s something I still must tell you about—”
Blackwood hushed us as we entered the crypt and paced between the pillars. Voices rose and fell ahead of us. We found them by Christopher Wren’s tomb.
Four boys, all wearing their new sorcerers’ robes, stood guard outside the gate. Hemphill was among them. They had their staves out, prepared to defend what was going on within.
Inside the tomb, Palehook stood before Rook, who lay bound and gagged on the obsidian slab. He convulsed while Palehook murmured, “The moon rounds in her virgin glow, the blood is on the stone, both separate the body’s soul from body’s flesh and bone.” A white mist rose out of Rook and hovered in the air. He arched his back, caught in a torturous fit as the mist grew. Palehook leaned forward, a gleeful smile on his face.
“His life force,” Mickelmas whispered.
“Stop!” I ran forward.
Hemphill whistled softly as I entered the room, my friends at my back. “They’re here, Master. First visitors we’ve ever had.” The guards laughed.
Palehook snarled and leaned over Rook, like a perverted version of a mother protecting her child. “Keep them away. They have no idea what has to happen tonight.”
“Let Rook go.” I understood what I had seen. Palehook had used words in his magic. “You can perform magician’s work. You’re like me, aren’t you? A hybrid.”
Palehook’s face twisted in fury. “I’m nothing like you, girl,” he growled, every word soaked in self-loathing. “I’d only pollute myself with magician trickery to save this city. Do you want to sacrifice the whole of London to save your worthless little friend?”
“You mean the chosen parts of London,” I said.
“My wife and children live in those chosen parts. If you think I’ll let you open them up to slaughter, you’re mistaken. Stay back,” he said as I took a step forward. At Palehook’s command, the four guards readied themselves for an attack. “You’ve received commendation, haven’t you? You can’t kill a fellow sorcerer now, not unless you want to join him in death.”
Palehook was right. Behind me, the boys whispered to each other. They sounded concerned.
“I’m not commended,” I said, refusing to back away.
“Nor I. I’m not even a sorcerer.” Mickelmas moved out of the shadows. Palehook shrank back. “Hello, Augustus. You’ve only gotten balder and uglier over the years. It suits you.” Palehook muttered something I couldn’t make out. Mickelmas laughed. “Speak up, old fellow. Granted, you must be tired. Black magic does rather deplete one’s energy.” Mickelmas rubbed his hands together and, with a flick of his wrist, sent a ball of white light sailing at the tomb.
But none of us anticipated how fast Palehook could be. With a swift movement of his stave, he bent one of the iron bars and severed it, sending the pointed tip through the ball of light and directly into Mickelmas’s side.
“Damn, damn!” Mickelmas fell, his blood pooling on the floor. He waved off the boys’ attempts to help.
Palehook turned to the mist hovering over Rook and inhaled deeply, smacking his lips like some grotesque vampire. His skin glowed as he took more and more.
“Come on, then,” Hemphill called as I frantically sought a way to the gate. “If you’re not commended, Miss Howel, then nothing can stop my putting a blade through your heart. I missed the last time, but I won’t tonight.”
Magnus roared and slammed his stave to the floor. The ground shook, throwing our opponents off balance. The battle had begun.
Around me, the sorcerers dueled furiously. They summoned winds that whipped along the corridor, and the bricks beneath our feet rattled and bucked. Lambe and Wolff ran side by side, their wards activated, and smashed into one of the guards. Blackwood collected the fire from a torch and exploded it in someone’s face. Dee pulled stones out of the floor and threw them. Magnus, teeth bared, dueled Hemphill with warded blades.
There was a path open to the tomb.
I took the opportunity and ran, setting myself on fire to keep the guards away. Palehook slammed the door in my face, but I blasted it open and entered, the blue flames rising around me as I reached for him.
“Get out!” He struck me with wind. A tendril of Rook’s life curled out of his open mouth like smoke.
Rook lay motionless on the stone. He looked terrifyingly flat. Please, God, I couldn’t be too late.
“Get away from him.” I struggled to keep my fire from touching Rook. Palehook leaned against the wall, beads of sweat dotting his forehead. He really had weakened, and I used it to my advantage. When he tried to move in any direction, I was there. His only way out was through fire.
“Stop!” he cried. But he was afraid; I could see it.
“If you yield, throw down your weapon.”
Palehook was still a moment, deciding. Then, slowly, he dropped his stave. It clattered to the floor, and he put his hands up. I stopped burning, created a warded blade, and held it to his throat. Palehook kept his chin up. He swallowed, wincing as the blade cut him slightly.
Behind me, the fighting ceased. Glancing quickly over my shoulder, I saw that both sides had paused, watching us, waiting to see who would win.
“Don’t be foolish,” Palehook said. Life force puffed from his lips with each word he spoke. “Think of what you’re doing. You’re condemning all of London to death.”
I cut him along the cheek. He hissed in pain. “Release what you stole from Rook,” I said.
“Let me finish, and I’ll convince Her Majesty I was wrong about you.” Even defeated, he still tried to manipulate me. “You’ll be a sorcerer. You’ll have everything you ever wanted.”
“I want Rook.” I slashed his other cheek, deeper than before. This time, he howled.