A Poison Dark and Drowning (Kingdom on Fire #2)(97)

“She’s awake,” one of them said, eyeing me. I could not read his expression. “The Imperator wishes to see her.”

“She needs rest,” Maria argued, but they did not listen. Imperator? So Her Majesty had appointed one. Likely a Master, or perhaps a squadron captain.

The Imperator entered and stood before me.

It was Blackwood.





He was unharmed and surprisingly clean. Somehow in all this madness, he’d found a pristine white shirt and an unsoiled jacket. His black hair shone in the sharp square of sunlight coming through the window. The contrast between Magnus and him was incredible. In the middle of a ravaged city, Blackwood looked better, healthier, than ever before.

And he was the Imperator of all English magic? A boy of seventeen who hadn’t even had time to test for the rank of sorcerer Master?

“How?” My throat was dry, and Lilly gave me some more water.

“May we have privacy, please?” Already, he sounded in control. The others obeyed him at once, even a grumbling Magnus. After all, he could not disobey his Imperator. Moments later, we were alone, watching each other, as though calculating how to move. His gaze homed in on my bandaged shoulder.

“I’m Unclean,” I said.

“Yes.” It was a breath, so soft I nearly missed it. His lips formed a thin, tense line. “What happened?”

“I put a knife into R’hlem’s heart.” It sounded so simple that I began to giggle uncontrollably. Giggling turned to hiccuping, which in turn bordered on tears. I swallowed more water as Blackwood processed what I’d said.

“How?”

I didn’t have the strength for the whole story. “I found an opportunity. He summoned Rook, and Rook bit me.” Even mention of his name made the pain in my shoulder flare. “Then I fainted. What happened to you once—”

“Once you abandoned me?” He didn’t sound angry, though. More like he was trying to puzzle me out. “I fell in with a squadron near St. Paul’s. We had a devil of a time. Our losses have been…extensive.”

Here, he looked over the empty cots, the blank spaces on the walls where art had previously hung.

“Every man in those Fae tunnels was lost,” he said. “Half the sorcerers who remained in London are also gone.”

Most of the men I saw daily, gone within hours. My stomach felt leaden.

“How many of us are left?”

Blackwood flinched. “Able-bodied men? No more than five hundred.”

That was a blow beyond any I could have imagined. “Only five hundred left in London?” I whispered.

“You misunderstand.” He looked to the ceiling, as if reading his lines off it. “The Ancients and Familiars took full advantage of the Faerie roads, striking every city and town with a strong sorcerer presence. There are five hundred commended sorcerers left in the whole of England.”

Extermination. R’hlem had shown no mercy.

“Women and children?” I whispered. My strength gave out, and I slid back to lie on the floor. Blackwood gave me his hand.

“We’re not certain yet,” he said gently. “Come. I must address our Order.” Our Order was an odd thing to say. “Can you walk?” With help, I got to my feet, and he called Maria and Lilly inside. Between them, they escorted me into the courtyard, but they had to let sorcerers take hold of me at the entrance to the obsidian cathedral, since only the commended could enter that hallowed space.

Wait until they find out what Maria is, I thought darkly, letting myself be led inside.

The numbers barely filled the first two rows. Some men, the younger ones, stared blankly ahead or were rocking back and forth. Others were hard at work sweeping up the shattered obsidian with small gusts of wind. I didn’t see any blood left in this place; they must have washed it away. Glancing at the room, I noted something disturbing: most were either very young or old. R’hlem had swallowed up the majority of our best warriors in one go. I saw a few in their twenties, like Valens, who was among those cleaning. But most were either sixteen or sixty.

Simply being back here made the pain in my shoulder flourish, and I crumpled. The men holding me tried to pull me up rather roughly.

“Howel!” Magnus was there in an instant, breaking through the men to hold me himself. Wolff and Lambe came to greet me as well.

They were alive. My wound screamed, as if furious that I’d ignored it for half a moment. Wolff carried me to a seat, settling me in between the boys.

Lambe whispered, “You took the belladonna. You saw.” He smiled.

“Yes. I saw.”

Wolff patted my arm. Somehow we’d all come together again. Damn everything that had happened, I was luckier than most.

The room quieted as Blackwood climbed the dais. There was no throne for him to sit upon. Its remains lay piled in a corner, a broken reminder of all we had lost. Tension rose as Blackwood took his now rightful place. Sorcerers waited to pounce on the boy Imperator. Why on earth had the queen assigned such a crucial role to someone so very young?

Then again, as I’d noticed a moment before, we did not have a large selection from which to choose.

“I know we have suffered a great deal.” Blackwood’s voice rang out. “I know many do not approve of Her Majesty’s choice of Imperator.” Dead silence met this statement. At least one person had the decency to cough. “Let me explain, then. Much of Her Majesty’s government was slaughtered in the ambush. What’s left of the army and navy is scattered about the country. The prime minister is alive but badly wounded. All of our old safeguards have been ripped away.” He scanned the room, clearly watching everyone’s reaction to his words. “The queen requires sorcerer counsel, and I made Her Majesty an offer of safety that I could ensure only if I held the position of Imperator.” I could sense him slotting everyone into the columns of ally or enemy. “My estate in Sorrow-Fell is the best safehold we have left, besides the Dombrey Priory, and Dombrey has neither the space nor the resources to house the rest of sorcererkind.”