A Shadow Bright and Burning (Kingdom on Fire #1)(13)

—

WE REACHED AGRIPPA’S HOME IN HYDE Park Corner as the last traces of daylight vanished. Magnus dismounted from his horse, and a servant came to take the reins. A footman in gray livery opened the carriage door. Agrippa climbed down, then helped me out. Rook leaped down beside me, and together we gaped at the magnificent structure.

We’d passed tall, elegant white town houses on our way through Kensington. I’d assumed Agrippa lived somewhere similar, but this was no small residence. It was several stories of cream-colored stone with a marble portico and fluted columns. Awed, I turned to speak to Rook, but he was walking away, following the footman.

“Rook! Where are you going?” I said.

“Below stairs, miss. He’s a servant; he can’t enter through the front door.” The footman wore a pained expression.

“But…” I couldn’t finish my thought. Hadn’t Agrippa said that he would take Rook into his home as a servant? There was just something about the way the footman studied Rook, the formality of the whole thing. Rook, for his part, didn’t seem to care.

“Don’t worry about me, Nettie.” He disappeared down a flight of stairs near the front of the house. Agrippa came up beside me.



“He’ll be well treated. I promise.”

I believed him, but it was more than that. Rook and I had never been so separate before. We were from different classes, yes, but at Brimthorn it hadn’t mattered. We’d played together, spoken to each other, and no one minded. Now Rook and I wouldn’t be allowed to use the same door? Somehow I felt alone, even with Agrippa and Magnus waiting.

—

MY HEELS CLICKED ON THE TILE floor as another footman took my cloak and bonnet. I turned in a circle, unable to contain my astonishment. The hall was a work of art in itself, with a great staircase twisting up several floors. Here in the foyer, oil paintings of beautiful spring countryside hung on every wall, along with exotic collectibles such as elephant tusks, fans from the Orient, and a sword in a lacquered sheath.

“A girl could spend months simply exploring,” I muttered.

“I hope you’ll make yourself at home,” Agrippa said. Could I ever really call a place this magnificent my home? The thought made me dizzy. “Now, before I take you to your room, perhaps you’d like to meet the rest of the household?”

With Magnus behind us, we walked upstairs. Housemaids in starched aprons bustled by, curtsying when they saw us. I curtsied in return, until Agrippa whispered that I didn’t need to. On the second floor, we walked down a long hall and came to a door at the very end. Agrippa tried the handle, but it was locked.



A voice from within yelled, “Go away! We’re busy.”

“Open this door,” Agrippa called.

Silence. The lock turned. We walked inside and found two young gentlemen with their staves pointed toward the ceiling. One of them, a large red-haired boy, put out a hand to stop us. “Careful, Master.”

Twenty books floated in the air, hovering as if held by a current of strong wind. I watched the balancing act with interest. “All right,” the boy said with a nod. “Now.”

The books darted across the room, slamming into one another. I cried out as books began to rain from the sky. Magnus pulled me out of the way, but Agrippa was hit in the head and fell. The rest of the books collapsed to the earth.

“You could’ve killed him!” the red-haired boy cried, rushing to Agrippa and helping him to his feet. “I’m so sorry, sir. We never meant to hurt anyone. We did warn you, though, didn’t we?” His green eyes widened when he saw me standing beside Magnus. “Oh, it’s the girl!”

“The girl’s here?” The other dueling-book boy turned to stare at me as well. His hair was wavy and black. “You idiot. You almost killed the lady sorcerer.” He hit the other fellow in the shoulder after Agrippa had got himself safely to the couch.

“Don’t be fools,” Magnus said, stepping forward. “The important thing is I saw her first, so I won the bet. Both of you, pay up.”

“That was five pounds together,” the dark-haired boy said.



“Each.”

“Liar!” Now they were all grappling, though they seemed to enjoy themselves. I pressed myself against the wall, taken aback. I came from a place where silence and order were strictly enforced. Waiting for them to stop, I looked about the room.

Two more young men sat by the window. They played a game of chess and paid no mind whatsoever to anything around them. One was so small and slight he seemed on the verge of fading from existence. His hair was pale and almost colorless. The other, by contrast, had black hair and shoulders so broad they stretched the material of his jacket.

The brief fight died. Sensing a cue, I stepped forward to introduce myself. “How good to meet you. My name is Henrietta Howel,” I said, extending my hand. I hoped I didn’t sound too nervous.

“I’m Arthur. Arthur Dee.” The red-haired boy blushed as he respectfully bent his head over my hand, though he didn’t kiss it. “Sorry about the books,” he whispered.

“And this,” Magnus said, straightening the dark-haired boy, “is Cavaliere Bartolomeo Cellini de Genoa. That’s in Italy.”

“I know where Genoa is.” Magnus liked to speak for his friends, which didn’t surprise me. Cellini bowed with a flourish.