The Glass Magician (The Paper Magician Trilogy #2)(9)
Across the street, however, one person did stand out. He wore normal clothes, but his dark skin contrasted with the rest of the bystanders. He was a tall man—Indian, or perhaps Arab. His dark eyes met hers, and then the crowd filled in and he vanished from sight.
Ceony sucked in a deep breath. What decent person would look askance at a foreigner, even if he had been looking her way? Plenty of foreigners lived in England. Delilah was a foreigner, for heaven’s sake. Ceony’s mother would be appalled if she knew Ceony suspected a man merely because he was different.
Ceony looked around once more for the others, but Clemson, Dover, and George had either left or gotten lost in the throng. She handed Delilah a handkerchief to dry her eyes and, heart buzzing, approached the closest policeman.
“Excuse me,” she said. The man glanced her way before returning his gaze to the burning paper mill.
Ceony removed her hat and waved it back and forth, demanding his attention. “My friend and I are magicians’ apprentices; we were on tour when the building exploded.”
His eyes narrowed. “We’ll need to question you.”
“Yes, that’s fine,” Ceony said, raising her voice to be heard over the people, “but we need to return to Town Centre and find our teachers. They’ll be worried, and we’re not from around here. Please.”
The policeman rolled his lips together for a long moment before nodding. “One moment,” he said. He stepped over to his comrade and muttered something to him. The other policeman nodded and retrieved a pre-animated paper messenger bird from the trunk of his automobile. After scribbling a missive on it, he released it into the wind, but it flew away from Town Centre. Perhaps it was a call for reinforcements.
More police arrived on the scene about a quarter of an hour later, many on horseback, and one of them offered Ceony and Delilah a ride back to Town Centre. Ceony thanked him profusely, and Delilah even offered him money, which he didn’t accept. Trying to calm herself, Ceony led the way into the square, searching for Emery, praying he would be nearby. If all had gone as planned, the shuttle wouldn’t have dropped them off here for another hour, but it seemed inevitable that Emery and Mg. Aviosky would have noticed the commotion.
Even more people had congregated in Town Centre than at the mill, and all were gossiping about the explosion. Ceony could see the pillars of smoke from the square, dancing into the sky like poisoned clouds. She stopped and stared for a moment, holding her breath. Would they be able to put out the flames? What in the world had created a disaster of this magnitude?
She pushed through a crowd of women and a collection of schoolchildren, standing on her toes in a poor attempt to get a better view. She reached into her bag and pulled free a piece of paper to send a signal over the square—a wide-winged crane would work well for revealing her location. She searched for a decent place to Fold it, eyes scanning past the clusters of onlookers and the shop owners who stood outside their doors, pointing and chatting.
Ceony spied a flash of indigo between two newspaper boys and shoved the paper back into her bag. She motioned for Delilah to follow her and pushed forward in that direction.
She found Emery and Mg. Aviosky talking to two disgruntled police officers. Or rather, Mg. Aviosky stood by silently while Emery yelled at them.
“Then take me!” Emery shouted, a vein on the side of his forehead looking especially rigid. The skin around his eyes was flushed, and he waved his hands in the air like cleavers. “Don’t you understand? She might be in there! They all might be in there. We have to go!”
“Sir,” said the taller officer, “as I’ve already explained, we can only—”
“Emery!” Ceony shouted as she pushed past the last of the crowd. Emery whirled around at his name. “It’s okay, we got out before—”
The rest of her words were cut off when Emery threw his arms around her and embraced her, sending her top hat—and her stomach—tumbling to the ground.
“Thank God,” he said into her hair, squeezing her to his chest. Her blood raced through her veins faster than when the giant piece of rubble had been hurtling toward her. “Oh, Ceony, I thought . . .”
He pulled back and looked her up and down. His green eyes shined with worry and relief. This time, she had no trouble reading his mood. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, her pulse beating in her throat. “I-I’m fine, I promise. And Delilah, and the others. We left the building before . . . I don’t know what happened. I don’t know where Clemson and Dover and George are, but they got out, too. They were with us.”
Emery heaved a long breath and closed his eyes, then tugged Ceony close again. She returned the embrace, letting her arms snake under his coat, hoping that if Emery could feel the hammering in her chest, he would attribute it to the disaster at the paper mill and not their closeness. “If it makes you feel any better,” she murmured, “it really was boring, up until the end.”
Emery laughed, though it was more of a nervous sound than a mirthful one. He stepped back, but kept his hands on her shoulders. “I am so sorry.”
“It wasn’t . . . ,” she began. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Mg. Aviosky, who was standing with Delilah. The Gaffer wore a sour expression—a frown that could mean nothing but disapproval.
Ceony flushed and pulled away from Emery. “It wasn’t your fault, but there were people inside. And I don’t know what happened . . .”