A Shadow Bright and Burning (Kingdom on Fire #1)(39)

People rushed past me as bells tolled and flame and smoke lit the night sky. I clutched Porridge and stopped to beg for directions to Trafalgar Square.

I found the sorcerers before the National Gallery. There might have been over one hundred of them with their staves pointed upward. A great glow appeared in the sky, reflected as a glint of light on the underside of a glass bowl. Apparently London’s ward was a dome of energy. Thunder sounded in the distance, and there, somewhere beneath that rumble, came the horrible scream of a beast.

I pushed through the crowd until I stumbled upon Blackwood, his brow knit in concentration.

“What on earth are you doing here?” he shouted.

“Are there any breaches in the ward?”

“Of course not. Why should there be?”

“It’s Howel!” Arthur Dee pushed through to us. “He said you’d come.”

“Who did?”

“Magnus. He said you’d inspired him.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.



“What are you doing here?” Blackwood shouted at me again. Older gentlemen turned to glare at us.

“Rook might have gone to the creature,” I said.

“He can’t get through the ward.”

“But if somebody saw an Unclean wandering the streets, who’s to say they wouldn’t kill him?” That frightened me almost as much as Rook actually making it through to Korozoth.

Blackwood shook his head. “I can’t worry about that now.”

Bother this. “What were you saying about Magnus?” I asked Dee.

“He went to fight Korozoth.”

Blackwood gripped the poor fellow by his shirtfront. “What?” he snapped.

“He and Cellini said they were going to the Row. They planned to break through and fight—”

Blackwood threw the enormous boy away and took me by the arm. “Those fools,” he said, his face twisted in anger. “Where’s Master Agrippa?”

“We have to go after them.”

“You’re not going anywhere. I’m putting you in a carriage.”

“I am coming with you,” I said in my best classroom tone. “I’m going to find Rook if he’s there, and you are going to release me.” Blackwood did just that.

“I’ll take you if you can fly,” he said.

“I beg your pardon?”

He brandished his stave. “Touch Porridge to the ground at north, south, east, and west, then raise it high into the air. This will summon the four winds. If you can’t do it, I shall send you home.” He sounded indulgent, certain I would fail.



Blackwood placed his stave in four points and raised his arm. A great torrent of wind swirled about him, and he hovered in the air with a natural ease.

I copied him and lifted Porridge, willing myself to fly. A cold funnel of wind swirled my skirts and nearly dragged me down the square. Blackwood looked surprised.

“Hold it straight!” he cried.

The thought of Rook strengthened my arm, focused me. I lifted from the ground, my feet unsteady upon a cushion of wind.

“Move your arm down,” Blackwood said. He leaned forward onto his stomach, supported by the air. I copied him, feeling as though invisible hands upheld me. “Well done.”

“Don’t sound so shocked.”

“Please go home,” he said.

“Just take me to the ward. I only want to find him if he’s there.” My bargain worked. Blackwood took my free hand in his, and we moved forward, the sound of wild winds in my ears.

I was flying! I’d never felt so light, nor so aware of my physical body. For the first few minutes, I kept waiting to fall. When the wind didn’t die or shake me off, I couldn’t help but laugh. Blackwood guided me when I had to move the stave left or right or shift to make a turn. We shot over the heads of men and women, two black wraiths on their way to battle. Blackwood’s hand was cool in mine, and he tightened his grip the faster we flew.



Soon we pointed our staves toward the heavens again and lowered our feet to the ground. I stumbled but wasn’t hurt. We stood at the edge of the ward.

The streets beyond were alive with hundreds of people running. It was a crush of humanity. “I’m going to find the others. Please, for God’s sake, stay here,” Blackwood said. He nodded. “You did well, Miss Howel.” With that unexpected compliment, he put his stave to the ward, sliced downward, and walked through. I touched the place where he’d gone, but it had closed.

I pressed my hand against the ward and peered into the crowd beyond, searching for Rook. It was impossible, of course, for him to be on the other side. How could he have gotten through? The idea had only been a panicked imagining, impossible to be real.

But then, through the crowd, I caught a glimpse of pale yellow hair. The brightness flashed in the dark mass of humanity and disappeared.

“Rook!” I thrust Porridge into the ward but met an invisible force. “Do it, do it,” I snarled, jaw clenched tight. I dragged Porridge, looking for any tear. “Open up!” I shouted, teeming with frustration. Porridge sliced into the ward like a knife through a piece of paper. I fell forward and landed on my hands and knees on the other side of the barrier.

I checked; the opening was gone. Racing into the crowd, I called, “Rook, come back!”