A Poison Dark and Drowning (Kingdom on Fire #2)(46)

“Is it like bunching yourself up tight in a ball?” Magnus asked. “Or do you just sort of shrink?”

Girls’ voices sounded outside the door. One belonged to Maria, the other to Eliza, who was probably wondering why Maria was guarding the door.

“Quickly!” Magnus whispered, holding out the vase again. With a groan, Mickelmas leaped into it, disappearing from view. Eliza entered, stopping short at the sight of Magnus gleefully hugging a vase to his chest.

“Oh. Hello?” she said, surprised.

“I, er, love the decorating.” Magnus held out the vase. “May I keep this?”

“What?”

I looked around nervously and saw that the china tiger had curled up beside Mickelmas’s glass and fallen asleep, thank God. Because I’d no idea how to explain that.

“No, Magnus, you can’t have it. I think this piece would look better in another room.” I snatched the vase and said to Blackwood, “Let’s take it out, shall we?”

“Yes. The vase needs a new home.” Together, we hurried past a baffled Eliza.

In the garden, I released Mickelmas from the vase in a flurry of purple and orange. He pulled an apple from Blackwood’s tree and shined it upon his sleeve.

“We would be honored to accept your help,” Blackwood muttered.

“Indeed, your enthusiasm is boundless, my young squirrels.” Slipping his arm through mine, Mickelmas led me toward the garden wall, his mirth dissolving somewhat. “You know what you’re asking, I take it?” He glanced at Blackwood. “Are you aware that Ralph Strangewayes went mad? Stark raving mad.”

Hunting creatures beyond the realm of sanity would do that to a person.

“These weapons are not natural,” Mickelmas continued. “I heard the stories when I was a boy. They say that Strangewayes’s power shattered his mind. Have you experienced headaches, nosebleeds? Have you seen things that aren’t there?”

Nosebleeds. Headaches. I went a bit cold.

“The weapons can hurt us?”

“You don’t know as much about these things as you might wish.” Mickelmas frowned. “Are you certain?”

“Yes.” I forced myself to mean it. After all, we didn’t need the weapons for long. We weren’t hunting; we were fighting. There was a difference…wasn’t there?

“Very well. Shall we commence our lessons?” Mickelmas addressed the last question to Blackwood, who lurked by the door and resembled nothing so much as a tall shadow with a terrible attitude.

“Not here,” he said.

“My thoughts exactly. I find this place to be a bit dour.” Mickelmas smirked.

“I’ve access to Master Agrippa’s house,” said Blackwood. “Until they sort out the Agrippa heir, the Imperator gave it to me. We can train there.”

“Splendid. I’ve always wanted to reside near Hyde Park. Very chic.”

“You’re not going to live there?” Blackwood sounded horrified.

“I have to be on hand whenever you all find yourselves with a free moment. Besides, I can’t have you coming into town to look for me.”

“Fine. Stay out of sight. If you’re caught, I know nothing about this,” Blackwood snapped.

Mickelmas appeared at my side and kissed my hand. “Farewell, my adorable know-nothings,” he said, winking one great black eye. With a flip of his coat, he vanished. Blackwood and I stood alone in the garden.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Don’t speak to me, Howel. Not right now.” With that, he stalked back into the house. Damn. Well, he’d a right to be angry. If the Order discovered our collaboration with Mickelmas, they could throw us all in the Tower. They could strip Blackwood of his title and estate.

Hell, he had more than a right to be angry. He’d a right to evict me from his house. That I knew he wouldn’t only made me feel worse. But after a while, he’d see that what I’d done was right. We’d laugh about this one day. Hopefully.

I returned to the parlor. Dee stood by the window, looking out into the street. He motioned me over.

“How did it go?” He couldn’t raise his voice, as Eliza was over by the fire, talking excitedly with Magnus.

“We’ve a new teacher.”

Dee puffed out his cheeks. “I feel like an outlaw. Never thought I’d feel that.” Then he nodded toward the sofa. “The tiger’s waking,” he whispered. Indeed, the little porcelain cat was yawning and stretching. Taking out Porridge, I improvised a quick spell. With a movement designed for freezing water, I wished the creature to become still. It did as I asked—and transformed into a small ice sculpture.

Hopefully, it hadn’t been too expensive.

“What are you doing over there?” Eliza called.

“Nothing,” Dee and I answered in unison. He sat down on the sofa while I walked over to Magnus and Eliza. As I approached, I couldn’t help hearing their conversation.

“The Winter’s Tale follows the essential plot of Othello for the first half, and then deviates into some absurd comedy.” Eliza groaned with exasperation. “A bear simply waltzes on to eat a minor character, and then shuffles off. What terrible writing! Shakespeare only did it for the money.”

“He wrote all of them for the money.” Magnus had been eating walnuts, and now he tossed a shell into the fireplace.