A Shadow Bright and Burning (Kingdom on Fire #1)(8)

“Now,” it said in a high-pitched voice, “drink that.”

“Have I died?” I closed a shaking hand around the vial.



The thing snorted. “Yes, of course. You died, and I’m giving you medicine to keep you dead.” It folded its ears together and down its back in annoyance. “What does Cornelius think you can do for us?”

“Who is Cornelius?”

“Cornelius Agrippa. Who are you?”

“Henrietta Howel. What exactly are you?” Lord, if only my head weren’t pounding.

“I’m a hobgoblin, cherub. My name is Fenswick.” He bowed, his four arms outstretched in a showy display. “Her Majesty lent me to aid the Order in this war.”

“Queen Victoria owns hobgoblins?”

“No one owns me, and certainly not any Victoria. I serve Queen Mab of the dark Faerie court, but doubtless you’ve never met her. Now, drink your potion.”

Faerie queens. Hobgoblins. I’d gone absolutely mad.

“Where’s Master Agrippa?” I rubbed my forehead and gasped. “Where’s Rook?”

“See here,” Fenswick snapped as I tossed the blankets onto his head. I threw the silver vial to smash on the floor, the world spinning before me. Falling to one knee, I caught myself, then stood and ran to bang on the door. My legs buckled.

“Rook! Help me! Rook!” I cried. Footsteps sounded in the corridor, and someone unlocked the door. I stepped back as Agrippa entered the room, one hand raised as if to calm me.

“All is well, Miss Howel. Please sit,” he said.

“Where am I? What’ve you done with him?” I took a faulty step backward and collapsed. The bundle that was Fenswick slid off the bed with a grunt. Agrippa took a chair. The door closed again, and I heard the lock turn. “It’s not my fault.” I was nearly in hysterics. “I didn’t choose to be this way.”



“Enough now.” He sounded gentle, understanding. I didn’t trust it.

“I’m no follower of Mary Willoughby!” I said. My head threatened to split in two. “I didn’t choose to be a witch. I don’t want to die!”

“I’m not going to kill you,” he said, his tone soothing. I wouldn’t believe him. I couldn’t.

“Where is Rook?”

“He’s all right. He’s waiting below.”

“Is he a prisoner, too?” I gripped the side of the bed. “He’s not responsible for any of this.”

“You’re not prisoners, neither of you. And you’re not a witch, either, Miss Howel,” Agrippa said. He smiled, bemused and, as far as I could tell, delighted. “You’re a sorcerer.”

Whatever I had been about to say was lost. My mouth hung open, but no words escaped. I blinked. Agrippa might as well have said You are a lost Babylonian princess or You are a rare species of cod. Both made as much sense as my being…I couldn’t even think the word. While I sat there, Fenswick extricated himself from the blankets and stomped over to Agrippa.

“You don’t want this one,” he said, waving his four arms at me. “I can’t believe you had me travel all the way from London through the Undergrowth just to see to a dangerous psychotic. As if it’s easy getting to Yorkshire in no time flat. I hate traveling through Faerie. It’s too easy to lose your way.”



“Doctor, perhaps you’d grant Miss Howel and me some privacy? I’ve a feeling I’ll need to answer some questions.” Agrippa watched me, judging my reaction.

“Very well,” Fenswick said with exaggerated dignity. He flicked a piece of lint from his sleeve, walked under the bed, and did not come out again.

“Where?” I asked. My voice sounded hoarse. Even though I’d been trained to always keep a straight back, I rested my elbows on my legs; I couldn’t seem to get enough air.

“Faerie is located out of the corner of one’s eye or on the edge of a shadow. It is wild, but a fast shortcut through England.”

“Oh,” I said, as if that were a natural explanation. Swallowing, I shook my head. “How on earth can I be a sorcerer?”

“I can explain that. The prophecy seemed to call for a female child, but how old are you?”

“Sixteen.” Prophecy?

“I knew we needed a different translation, but you try persuading Palehook…I’m sorry,” he said, noting my baffled expression. “This must be hard to take in.”

“I’m sorry, a prophecy?” There was a faint ringing in my ears. None of this made sense.

“I shall explain more in due course, I promise you. Right now, what you need to know is that the prophecy calls for a girl to rise and fight in a time of great need. It mentions this girl’s use of fire.”



“But I thought all magical women were witches. There hasn’t been a female sorcerer in hundreds of years.” Not since Joan of Arc, in fact, and look where that got her.

“Not all magic is equal. Witches cannot control fire, water, earth, or air. They work with the life force of plants and animals. Only sorcerers control flame. And magicians are tricksters by nature. They deal in underhand spells and manipulations. The fact that you risked exposure to protect your friend, especially when you believed you would be killed as a result, proves you are not one of them.”