A Shadow Bright and Burning (Kingdom on Fire #1)(49)



I couldn’t breathe. Magnus grabbed Hemphill by his collar.



“Be careful how you meant that,” Magnus whispered. In that moment, he might have given Blackwood a lesson in icy intimidation. “Or I’d have to challenge you to a duel.”

“Sorcerers may not duel one another,” Hemphill said. He sounded a bit shaky, though.

“We’re not commended yet. We’ll fight with warded blades, and I’ll slit you down the middle. Spill your entrails along the hall and see if there’s any real blood in your veins. Now leave.” He stood aside, and the two boys slipped into the crowd.

“They don’t like you,” Cellini said to me, yawning. “Can’t accept a lady as one of us.” He then closed his eyes and began to snore.

I put a hand to my cheek and discovered it was still hot. Making a hushed excuse, I escaped into the foyer. Music and laughter bled through the walls as I walked toward the front door.

I stopped at the stairs and leaned against the banister to steady myself. If that was how people behaved when they thought I was the prophesied one, what on earth would happen if they found out that I was a magician?

No one could ever know. Ever. God, if only my lessons would improve…

“Howel, wait.” Magnus caught up with me. “I’m so sorry. They’ve always been hideous.”

“Do you think they’re spreading those kinds of tales about us?” I knew the value of a woman’s good name. Though the rumor was blatantly untrue, the fact that it existed could be enough to damage my reputation. And right now, my reputation was all that kept me safe.



“I’ll tell Master Agrippa to look into it.”

“Why did I come here? I should’ve stayed home.” I sank down onto the stairs.

“Not all sorcerers are like them. I’m not. Dee’s not. Even Blackwood’s a better sort, and he’s as much fun as a wet hen.” Magnus glanced about to make sure we were alone, then sat beside me. “I wanted you to feel at home.”

“I can’t feel at home here.” Because you’re a magician, and you’re lying to everyone. The voice in my head was ugly. Tears were very close now. I turned from Magnus and put a hand to my mouth.

“What is it?” His voice was gentle. He put a comforting arm around my waist and took my chin in his hand. Turning my face to him, he said, “You can’t let them frighten you.”

“I’m not frightened of them.” I began to shake. He leaned in close, speaking softly.

“Something’s been wrong since the night Korozoth attacked. It’s eating away at you.” His voice was soothing. “I know watching that little girl die was horrible.”

Part of me wanted to bury my face against him, to tell him everything. The sane part of me knew that such a thing was impossible. Why did I have to lie to people who were so good to me? What type of person did that make me?

Breathing deeply, I told as much of the truth as I could. “I’m afraid I’m not what everyone needs.”



Magnus took my hand. “You are. You will be.”

His touch was warm. His gray eyes glowed in the dim candlelight of the hall. He had a confident smile, the kind that indicated he had never known defeat. The kind that promised he could protect me from whatever dangers lay ahead.

I felt the faintest charge, like the air before a lightning strike. Magnus tightened his grip on my hand.

Dimly, I remembered that there was a rumor going on about me. Even though we were alone, it was risky to sit with Magnus’s hand in mine. I pulled away from him gently.

“I suppose my nerves got the better of me. Go back to the dancing. I’m sure Miss Whitechurch is looking for you,” I said.

“Are you certain you’re all right?”

“I could use a moment to catch my breath.” I stood up and patted my hair. Magnus rose with me.

“Your problem is you’ve had one cup of punch all evening. Life’s so much better when your head is fuzzy. Aristotle said that.”

“No, he didn’t.” I laughed. Magnus left. Alone, I closed my eyes to compose myself. I had to put a smile on my face and return to the room, or people might talk.

A sigh turned my head. Palehook came down the stairs, a punch glass in his hand. He eyed me over a pair of spectacles.

“Miss Howel. Are you distressed?”

More than he could imagine. But I could have at least one frank conversation with him.

“I would prefer you not talk to people about Rook.” I wanted to snap at him, but I must be polite.



“You are a topic of great conversation. Cornelius made a grave error in keeping you locked up. In the absence of anything factual, gossip is unavoidable.” He traced a slender finger around the rim of the punch glass. It made a faint ringing sound. “Were you my Incumbent, the situation should have been handled differently.”

“Regardless, please don’t discuss me, Master Palehook. Not with your Incumbents or anyone else. I spoke with two of your boys just now, and they were exceptionally rude. People might think you don’t want me to be commended.” I turned to walk away, but he stepped before me.

“That is an unfair accusation, Miss Howel. I stand with you in the service of my country.” He seemed to be telling the truth. I heard the firmness in his voice. “My only desire is to send the Ancients back to whatever hell they came from.”

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