A Shadow Bright and Burning (Kingdom on Fire #1)(11)

“Nettie, what are you doing?” Rook said, sliding to the ground.

“We can’t just sit there.” I knelt beside the girl.



The child was in a dreadful state, covered in blood. Sickened, I turned to the old man. “Sir, how may I help?”

“Oh good, miss, ’ow kind you is, ’ow k—” The man’s smile melted from his face. The large, glittering tears in his eyes seemed to dry at once. He dropped the girl and snatched my wrist, squeezing tight. “It can’t be. Not you,” he murmured. “What’s your name, girl?” He had been talking like a poor man of the streets; now he sounded like a cultured gentleman. “Who on God’s earth are you?”

“Let go,” I said, struggling against him. Rook pulled me away and wrapped his arm around me protectively. I glanced at the child and gasped. All the blood had vanished. She opened her eyes and sat up.

“Sorry,” she said to the man. “I let the charm wear off.”

“My fault, Charley. I lost my train of thought.” The man swept the child into his arms again and nodded at me. “Thousand pardons. Mistook you for someone else.” But his gaze was too intent for it to be a simple case of mistaken identity.

“How do you know me?” I asked, getting to my feet.

“Magician.” Agrippa strode forward, glaring. “You are a thief and a swindler.”

Magician? Instinctively, I wanted to wipe my wrist, to be rid of the memory of his touch. Rook tightened his grip on me.

“Swindler? Ridiculous,” the man said, backing away. “And look, little Charley’s well. Sometimes all you need is a wish and a prayer. It’s a miracle!” The magician searched for an avenue of escape.



“You know the law,” Agrippa said. People watched and murmured.

“Oh, you wouldn’t harm an old conjurer, would you, sir? We’re so very sorry for the disturbance. Here, have some flowers to make amends.” The magician snatched a bouquet of red roses from his sleeves. “A peace offering?” He released white doves from his breast pocket.

“Call a constable!” Agrippa shouted.

“Oh, very well. Suppose I’ll go quietl—” At this, the man sneezed and vanished in a burst of fire and smoke. I put my hand over my mouth. The crowd gasped in amazement.

Agrippa looked about, baffled, and then returned to me, signaling to get back into the coach. “Come, Miss Howel.”

Rook jumped onto the driver’s bench, and I climbed inside. We rode along while Agrippa seethed.

“I’ve never seen a magician before,” I said, trying to calm him with conversation. Agrippa cleared his throat, mopping his forehead with a pocket square.

“I know it must seem harsh, cornering an old man like that,” he said. “Apprehending a magician can be difficult alone. You never know what they’ll do.”

I kept silent. I knew that magicians had been royally pardoned for aiding Mary Willoughby, so long as they abided by the law, but they were all rogues and criminals. When I was a child, there was gossip that one of them had come through a nearby village, offering to tell fortunes. Three days later, he took off with six chickens, two sets of good candlesticks, and the miller’s daughter. Still, I’d never thought magicians to be as dangerous as Agrippa implied.



“Do you hate them, sir?” I asked.

“They’re selfish, dangerous men. They would rather tinker with obscene parlor tricks than lift a finger to aid the crown in a time of war. Considering it was their magic that helped the Ancients cross into our world, that attitude is even more intolerable.” His cheeks tinged pink.

I decided not to mention how the magician had spoken to me, or that my appearance had stunned him. Truth be told, I preferred not to think about it myself. Surely it had been an attempt to trick me. Surely.

We continued onto a broad, bustling avenue. The street was a sea of activity, waves of humanity cresting and breaking.

“This is Ha’penny Row,” Agrippa said, pointing out the window. “The trade hub of unwarded London. Anything you’ve ever wanted you can find here.”

We passed women carrying baskets of loaves in their arms. People hauled trays of turtle, panes of glass, bags of flour. Voices called out wares of fruits and vegetables.

Agrippa sighed in exasperation as our carriage came to another abrupt halt. “What on earth is the matter today?”

He looked out the window for the source of trouble. He appeared to find it as, laughing merrily, he waved at someone. Curious, I leaned out to look for myself.



A young man on horseback trotted up to us. He rode a beautiful bay, and he removed his top hat by way of greeting. Reaching down, he drew out something that hung in a sheath by his side. He presented it with one hand to Agrippa, bowed at the waist, and then put away the stave and nodded. Here was another sorcerer. My stomach lurched as I gazed up at him. I hadn’t expected to be so nervous.

“Now, you can’t keep me away, Master Agrippa, you really cannot,” he said. “There’s five pounds riding on my seeing her first.” The young man peered in the window and cocked an eyebrow. “Is this the lady in question?” This last was addressed to me. “Mr. Julian Magnus of Kensington, at your service.” He bowed, a bit awkward, as he was still astride the horse. After nearly losing his seat, he said, “You’re the prophecy girl, I’ll be sworn. What’s your name?”