A Poison Dark and Drowning (Kingdom on Fire #2)(48)

He rubbed his forehead. “I know he came from Cornwall. But how many Jim Collinses are there in bloody Cornwall? So I keep this with me to give to his mother when I find her.” Magnus kept his face stony, but he couldn’t hide the painful dance of emotions in his gray eyes. “Do you know, I thought the war would be over in a month once I joined?” He laughed bitterly. It occurred to me then that he played a part for all of us, that the smiling Magnus was like a layer of theatrical paint.

I gripped his shoulder. “I beg you, don’t hold this inside. I’m here if you need me.”

For a minute, we stayed looking at each other. Magnus’s gaze seemed to clear. “Oh,” he said, a sound of surprise.

We were so near to each other that I flushed and released him.

“Forgive me,” he said as I gave him back his charm. “Living with the Earl of Sorrow-Filled is burden enough.”

“Sorrow-Fell.” I couldn’t help laughing.

Magnus went to speak with Dee, who’d been dozing on the sofa. I watched him carefully. He was easy and charming once more; that mask of his was firmly back in place.

—

THE NEXT EVENING, I SAT BY my bedroom window, surveying the empty streets and thinking on our training plan. The streetlamps cast dancing shadows, but you wouldn’t find an actual person out there until dawn. Most refused to venture out at night now, preferring to lock their doors and windows, huddle in bed, and wait for daylight. We all anticipated the night when the monsters would come tearing out of the sky, a dense cloud of claws and talons and teeth.

I was about to prepare for bed when a dark figure coming out of the house caught my eye. It moved down the walk and toward the street.

The figure turned, gazing back at the house. My stomach dropped when I recognized Rook, his hair hidden beneath a cap. Shoulders hunched and hands jammed into his coat pockets, he slipped out the gate and hurried away.

Where the bloody hell was he going at this hour?

Cursing, I grabbed Porridge, threw on my cloak, and opened my window. A moment later, I used the wind to carry myself to the ground. Wherever Rook was going tonight, he wouldn’t go alone.





Rook moved out of the city proper and into the no-man’s-land of the shantytowns. Houses fashioned from plywood, tin, and wire leaned against one another, as if too exhausted to stand on their own. Fires burned here and there, with families gathered about, lined faces accentuated by the glow. Lean, flea-ravaged dogs chased each other through the streets.

I could have caught up with Rook and asked where he was off to, but I sensed that whatever he’d tell me would be a lie. People did not sneak out of the house in the dead of night on perfectly innocent business. When I’d lived at Agrippa’s, every moment I could spare had been spent rushing to meet secretly with Mickelmas. Whatever Rook was up to, I wanted to know the truth.

Rook walked slowly, glancing left and right until he came to a halt. Tilting back his head, he began scenting the air. Then he took off at a run, plunging into a narrow alleyway. He went from stillness to action so fast it caught me off guard.

That was when I heard the screams.

Cursing under my breath, I followed where he’d gone through the labyrinth of makeshift houses. I gagged at the odor of waste and mud, lifting my skirts as high as I dared to keep them clean.

Finally, I came to an intersection wide enough to allow multiple people through at the same time. Before me, two men were locked in a scuffle, one of them with a loaf of bread cradled to his chest. The other fellow beat and tore at him mercilessly. The man with the bread cried out, but no one came to help. No one dared. Finally, the attacker walloped the poor fellow with such force that the man dropped his food.

I prepared to move in, when—

Darkness poured forth in a wave. A cloak of night swept over the screaming thief. Slowly, the wheezing man on the ground got to his feet, snatched his bread, and ran off.

Darkness flowed in a ceaseless tide, suffocating the thief’s screams. My eyes tracked to the source as Rook moved into sight, his pace deliberate. He threw his hands into the air, releasing the thief from the shadow. Mesmerized, I could only watch as Rook grabbed the stammering man by his shirtfront.

“If I see you attack anyone else, there’ll be no mercy. Do you understand?” There was ferocity to his tone that I’d never heard before.

The man whined, the acrid scent of urine flooding the air as he pissed himself. Rook threw him down and tipped his cap over his eyes. “Go. Now.”

The man did not need to be told again, and he hurried away, tripping twice. Rook cracked his knuckles as the darkness retreated, folding up to neatly fit inside his moonlit shadow. I gasped, and he turned.

“Miss?” he said, “What are you doing here?” His eyes, still a pure black, widened when I removed my hood.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I said.

Rook groaned and rubbed the back of his neck, as though I’d caught him stealing a pie instead of threatening a man with the force of black magic.

“We should go. It’s not safe for you on the streets at night.” Rook came over and slipped an arm around me.

“Not safe for me?” I all but pinched him.

“Wait until we get home before you scold me,” he replied. I could barely see his face beneath the brim of his cap. He’d pulled his collar up as well, doing an admirable job of blending in with the shadows. Together, we made our way out of the encampment and back to safer streets.