A Shadow Bright and Burning (Kingdom on Fire #1)(34)

“Will you at least take care of them and not go mad with the pain?” I said stiffly.

“Of course,” he replied. The silence grew between us.

“Well. I have to go back. They’ll be starting soon.” We paused for a moment, Rook with his bucket, me with my damned fine dress. I turned and rushed away, my long skirt whispering over the ground.

“Wait.” He sounded worried. “My scars do hurt.”

“Oh?” I almost tripped over myself in my haste to turn around.

“They hurt this way before the attack at Brimthorn. So tell Master Agrippa and the rest of them.” He looked off toward the darkening evening sky, with the clouds rolling in. “Tell them something bad might be coming tonight.”





“Are you certain?” Agrippa asked, his glass of claret half raised to his lips. We were seated at dinner, where I toyed with my roast beef.

“Rook isn’t the type to invent things.”

“I hope the old Shadow and Fog does show himself tonight,” Magnus said, spearing a Yorkshire pudding and spooning gravy on top of it. “I’d a new coat made especial for the occasion, and Korozoth should see it while it’s still in fashion.”

“Don’t be too eager,” Blackwood said. “For all we know, it might be R’hlem.”

That silenced everyone. R’hlem the Skinless Man was the most threatening of the Ancients. Beasts like Molochoron and Korozoth were just that, beasts with great talent for mindless destruction. R’hlem showed superior intelligence. Some whispered that he had once been human, twisted by the darkness into a monster. Of course, no one really believed such nonsense.

“Master Agrippa,” I said, “can nothing be done to better protect the unwarded areas? If we cannot shield our own citizens, why should the rest of England have faith in us?”

“Us?” Blackwood said. He kept doing that, dividing me from the rest of the boys with a word or a look. Every time Magnus or the others addressed me as “Howel,” he cleared his throat or made an exasperated noise. I’d thought my getting along with his sister had softened him somewhat. Apparently I was wrong.



“I know you don’t yet consider me one of you, my lord,” I said, struggling to maintain a polite tone, “but I’m only trying to help.”

“I agree with Howel,” Wolff said. “It’s an outrage, and I’m glad someone else is saying it. Clarence agrees with us, don’t you?”

Lambe nodded, his pale hair falling into his eyes. “It’s a shame when families are separated.”

Everyone stopped talking. Uncomfortable looks were passed around the table. I was confused until Wolff explained. “Only sorcerers who favor the Church of England may remain inside warded London. My family follows an older religion, so my parents had to leave for the country.” He pushed his knife and fork aside; evidently his appetite had vanished. “Once I’m commended, I’ll have to live outside the ward as well.”

What a hideous practice. “Surely it’s important to protect everyone,” I said to Agrippa.

Agrippa nodded. “We can discuss this further after you’re commended.”

Blackwood coughed. Really, I was worried about the failure in today’s lesson enough as it was. My breaking point had been reached. “Do you have a cold, my lord?” I said, rounding on him.

“No, Miss Howel.”



“Do you dislike the idea of a lady sorcerer?”

“As I told you yesterday, that would mean my going against the Order.” That was another clear attempt to not answer the question. I didn’t care if I was wearing the bloody gown he had purchased.

“Are you against the Order?” I asked.

His eyes widened in surprise. “I stand with the Order entirely.”

That answer was sincere. “I’m sorry, I’m just upset.”

“It’s all right. Compassion for the poor is admirable.” That tone. I would’ve gladly given the topic up but for that condescending tone. I rapped my fork against the side of my plate, to calm and focus myself.

“Admirable, but not practical?”

“In this case, no. The ward protects Her Majesty, and, of course, the high sorcerer families. If we fall, England falls.” He sounded almost as if he regretted it, but what could he do? “The most exceptional individuals are also the most necessary.”

“Have you ever considered that you were lucky to be born into circumstances that made you such an exceptional individual?” I breathed slowly to keep myself from yelling. “Rook, for instance. He might have done as well as you if he’d been born to a wealthy family, sent to the best schools, educated by the best people. But he’s the orphaned son of a brick maker, and Unclean, so whatever he might have been is unimportant.”

“I don’t think this is very good dinner conversation,” Cellini said, sounding irritated. I got the feeling it would be more comfortable for everyone if I gave up the topic. But we were in this argument now, Blackwood and I.



“Of course Rook matters,” Blackwood said, as if explaining to a child. “I don’t believe it’s fair that some receive everything and others nothing, merely by the luck of being born. But it is the reality.”