Lost

  Ahead of me, the envoyage headed off the dirt road and onto the cobbled street, into the city, but Kerrn got down off her horse and stood at the side of the road, waiting for me to catch up.

  I grinned at her—I was glad to be home and couldn’t help it.

  The birds perched on the houses grew still, watching. I was just about to step into the city, when Kerrn stepped in front of me and put her hand on my chest. “If you take another step, I will arrest you.”

  I stared at Kerrn. Her face was blank.

  “Did you expect anything else?” she said. “You are exiled.”

  Oh. The same way I was a wizard, Kerrn was a guard captain. Of course she had to do this.

  I heard the sound of hooves clattering on cobbles, then Rowan rode up and stopped. She leaned over to speak to us. “Captain Kerrn, what’s going on here?”

  Kerrn’s face stayed still, like stone. “Lady Rowan, it is my duty to enforce the laws of the city. This boy”—she pointed at me—“is under an order of exile. If he sets foot into the city, he will have broken the law, which means I must arrest him.”

  Rowan straightened in her saddle and gave Kerrn her best commanding look. “Captain Kerrn, you know this is ridiculous. It is only thanks to Conn that we were able to deal with the sorcerer-king, and we need him to help prepare the city for a possible magical attack.”

  Kerrn didn’t answer; she didn’t even glance up at Rowan. She lowered her hand from my chest. My choice, then.

  I stared right back at her. Then I lifted my foot and stepped forward, into the city.

  CHAPTER 37

  In the guardroom at the Dawn Palace, Kerrn and her guards searched every stitch of my clothes, from my boots to my black sweater. They even checked my hair.

  They found my lockpick wires and a knife. Then they gave me back my clothes and boots and marched me down to one of the prison cells under the palace. As we went down the steps, the air got heavier and colder, and smelled of old stone. They shoved me into a cell and slammed the door. The keys turned in the lock, a heavy plunger with two flanges, from the sound of it.

  I’d picked that lock before. I could pick it again if I had the tools. The cell was the same one Kerrn had put me in after I’d stolen my locus magicalicus from the duchess’s necklace. It was cold and shadow-dark; the only light came in through a barred window that opened on an air shaft. A table and chair were pushed up against one of the stone walls, which had patches of dripping mold on it.

  Drats. I’d been spending too much time lately locked into places I needed to get out of. I had to talk to Nevery. Arhionvar was done with Jaggus. It had filled up his emptiness and aloneness with poison, and then it had tossed him aside. It needed a new wizard now, and it wanted me for that. Arhionvar was done with Desh, too, and it would be coming for Wellmet, now that the magic was weakened and the people afraid. We had to get ready to defend the city.

  Cold seeped from the damp walls and into my bones, making me shiver. To keep warm, I paced the room, five steps across, five steps back. Would Nevery come? Maybe he didn’t want to see me. Somewhere in the palace, up above, Rowan was arguing with her mother about the order of exile. I hoped she would win the argument, but I didn’t think she would.

  Hours passed.

  I was tired, but I couldn’t sleep.

  At the sound of keys jingling in the lock, I whirled to face the door. It creaked open, and a dark shadow stepped into the doorway. The shadow spoke a word, and a locus magicalicus burst into flame.

  I ducked my head away from the light.

  “Well, boy?”

  I blinked the brights out of my eyes and saw that the shadow was Nevery, stepping into the cell and looking around, frowning. Kerrn stood behind him in the doorway, her face blank.

  “Very well, Nevery,” I said. Now that he was here.

  “Hmph. I see you’ve gotten yourself into trouble again.”

  Not again. This was my old trouble, just working itself out to its end. “I had to come back,” I said. “Wellmet’s magic’s in danger.”

  He stared at me, pulling on the end of his beard. “Yes. I received your letter.”

  “Can you get me out of here?” I asked. Could he get the order of exile taken back, is what I meant.

  “No,” he said.

  Oh.

  Nevery reached into his bag and pulled out a bundle of cloth, which he held out to me.

  Before I could reach out to take it, Kerrn stepped out of the doorway. “What is that?” she demanded.

  Nevery scowled. “You put my apprentice into this freezing cell, Captain. I brought him a coat so he won’t be cold.” He held out another packet. “And biscuits,” he said to me, “from Benet.”

  “He’s all right?” I asked.

  “He is,” Nevery said.

  “I will examine those things,” Kerrn said.

  “Very well,” Nevery said.

  Kerrn opened the packet of biscuits and broke them open. She shook the coat and checked the pockets. Then she handed the coat back to Nevery and put the biscuits on the table.

  Nevery held out the coat again, and I took it.

  He turned to leave.

  “Nevery—” I took a step after him, then stopped myself from trying to follow him out.

  He turned back and put his hand on my shoulder; I leaned my head against his arm and took a deep, shuddery breath.

  “All right, my lad,” Nevery said, his voice rough. For a moment he rested his other hand on the top of my head. Then he let me go and turned away again, and left the cell.

  Kerrn, looking unhappy, followed him out.

  After the door slammed closed and the keys jingled in the lock, I unfolded the coat. Nevery must’ve gotten it from a used clothes shop. It was black, with a shabby black velvet collar, and it smelled a little moldy. I put it on and rolled up the sleeves.

  No, Nevery had said. He wasn’t going to try to get me out, then. I shivered and huddled into the coat.

  No, wait. I was being stupid. I knew Nevery. He wouldn’t leave me locked up in here.

  I took off the coat again. I felt along the sleeve seams. Nothing. Then in the hem. Nothing. The buttons were ordinary buttons. There was nothing hidden in the lining. Then I found it, a slit at the edge of the shabby velvet collar. I poked around with my fingers, and then I found them.

  I pulled them out, two long, thin wires.

  Thank you, Nevery.

  Nevery was a wizard, but he knew how to think like a thief.

  He’d brought me lockpicks.

  A GUIDE TO

  PEOPLE AND PLACES

  PEOPLE

  ARGENT—A noble young man with a sense of honor but no liking for former thieves and gutterboys. He is an expert swordcrafter and has been giving lessons to Rowan, but lately she’s been improving and might even be better than he is.

  BENET—A rather scary-looking guy but one who loves to knit, bake, and clean. His nose has been broken so many times, it’s been flattened. If he were an animal he’d be a big bear. His hair is brown and sticks out on his head like spikes. You wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley, but you would want to eat his biscuits.

  CONNWAER—Has shaggy black hair that hangs down over his bright blue eyes. He’s been a gutterboy for most of his life, so he’s watchful and a little wary; at the same time, he’s completely pragmatic and truthful. He’s thin, but he’s sturdy and strong, too. He has a quirky smile (hence his quirked tail as a cat). Conn does not know his own age; it could be anywhere from twelve to fourteen. A great friend to have, but be careful that you don’t have anything valuable in your pockets in reach of his sticky fingers.

  DEE—A gutterboy, he is thin and dressed in rags. He has blond hair and watery blue eyes and his front teeth stick out. He never gets enough to eat. He sneaks and spies for the Underlord’s minions; one day, if he grows big and strong enough, he will become a minion himself.

  EMBRE—A young man about eighteen years old. He is very thin and has a sharp face with dar
k eyes and black hair, and he might have smudges on his hands and face from working with black powder. Everything about him is sharp, including his intellect.

  JAGGUS—The sorcerer-king of the desert city of Desh. He is young but has white hair that he wears in cat-tail braids all over his head. His eyes are blue; he likes to wear white clothes with gold and silver embroidery on them. He keeps cats as pets. He has a sad history.

  KERRN—The captain of the Dawn Palace guards, Kerrn is tall and athletic; she wears her blond hair in a braid that hangs down her back and has sharp, ice-blue eyes. She is an expert swordfighter. She speaks with a strong accent because she comes from Helva, far away from the Peninsular Duchies.

  NEVERY FLINGLAS—Is tall with gray hair, a long gray beard, shaggy gray eyebrows, and sharp black eyes. He’s impatient and grumpy and often hasty, but beneath that his heart is kind (he would never admit it). Mysterious and possibly dangerous, Nevery is a difficult wizard to read but a good one to know.

  ROWAN FORESTAL—A tall, slender girl of around fifteen, with red hair and gray eyes. She is very intelligent with a good, if dry, sense of humor. She is the daughter of the Duchess of Wellmet. She is also very interested in studying swordcraft.

  PLACES

  ACADEMICOS—Set on an island in the river that runs between the Twilight and the Sunrise, the academicos is a school for the rich students and potential wizards of Wellmet. Conn enrolls there after becoming Nevery’s apprentice.

  DAWN PALACE—The home of the Duchess and Rowan. The palace itself is a huge, rectangular building—not very architecturally interesting, but with lots of decorations crusted on it to make it fancy.

  HEARTSEASE—Nevery’s ancestral island home. The middle of the house was blown up by Nevery’s pyrotechnic experiments twenty years before this story. So the two ends of the house are left standing and the middle looks like it has a bite taken out.

  MAGISTERS HALL—Seat of power for the wizards who control and guard the magic of Wellmet. It is a big, imposing gray stone building on an island with a wall built all the way around it at the waterline.

  JAGGUS’S FORTRESS—The sorcerer-king’s secret fortress is built of bone-white stone and stands alone in the middle of the desert.

  WELLMET RUNIC ALPHABET

  In Wellmet, some people write using runes to stand for the letters of the alphabet. In fact, you may find some messages written in runes in The Magic Thief: Lost.

  * * *

  BENET’S CHICKEN POT PIE WITH BISCUIT CRUST

  4 tablespoons butter

  ½ cup flour

  2 cups chicken broth

  1 ½ cups milk

  Chicken, cooked, cut into cubes

  ½ teaspoon nutmeg

  A little lemon juice

  A little white pepper

  Melt butter in pan. Add flour, stirring. Remove from heat, add chicken broth. Stir. Add milk. Stir over low heat until simmering. Remove from heat and whisk vigorously until smooth; return to medium heat for one minute. Turn off heat, mix in chicken, nutmeg, and lemon juice and white pepper to taste.

  * * *

  * * *

  Next:

  2 tablespoons butter

  1 chopped medium onion

  1 ½ cups chopped carrots

  ¼ cup chopped celery

  ¾ cup peas

  3 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped

  Melt butter in pan. Cook vegetables until soft. Add vegetables to chicken mixture. Put in baking pan. Preheat oven to 400°F. Add biscuit crust; bake.

  * * *

  * * *

  BENET’S BISCUIT CRUST

  1 recipe biscuit dough:

  2 cups all-purpose flour

  ½ teaspoon salt

  4 teaspoons bee’s wing (baking powder)

  2 teaspoons sugar

  ½ cup butter

  ½ cup milk

  * * *

  * * *

  Mix dry ingredients together in bowl. Cut in butter until fine and crumbly. Make a well in these ingredients and pour in milk. Knead with your fingers only until blended—do not over-work or dough will be hard and flat. Roll to one knuckle thick. Cut and lay out biscuit dough in squares on top of chicken and vegetable mix. Brush top with beaten egg to make it brown during baking (not required). Bake at 400°F for 25 to 30 minutes.

  * * *

  * * *

  CONN’S FROG POT PIE WITH BISCUIT CRUST

  A lot of butter

  Two handfuls of flour

  About two cups of milk

  Lots of pepper

  Melt butter in pot. Add flour and milk and mix up really well with a spoon.

  * * *

  * * *

  Frogs, cooked

  Whatever kinds of vegetables you can find.

  Potatoes and carrots and beans are best.

  Also turnips.

  Chop them with a knife and cook them with butter.

  Mix frogs and sauce and vegetables.

  Put in pot.

  Make biscuits. Put on top of pot.

  Bake in a hot oven until it is done.

  * * *

  SOME NOTES ON SWORDCRAFT

  BY ROWAN FORESTAL

  (learned from Kerrn, captain of the Dawn Palace guards)

  Swordcrafting is the art of fighting with the sword.

  Though swordcrafting is an art, it is not for dueling and not for show. It is for fighting. If you are not prepared to fight, then you should not take up swordcrafting.

  The four elements of swordcrafting are distance, perception, timing, and technique.

  Quickness can defeat strength.

  Cleverness can defeat strength.

  Strategy is one thing. Tactics are something else.

  SOME TERMS

  EIGHTS High parries.

  KEEP YOUR GUARD UP The sword is a defensive weapon as well as an offensive one; every defensive move and every offensive move comes from a basic position of readiness.

  PARRY A defensive move; a block; moving your opponent’s blade aside with your own. Three notes on parries: One, parry with the flat of the blade, not the edge. Two, parry to deflect your opponent’s blade, not chop it in half. Three, the best parry is the beginning of an attack (see riposte).

  PELL A training post made of wood; a target.

  QUARTERS Low parries.

  RIPOSTE An attack made immediately after a parry.

  SALLE A training room.

  STOP-THRUST An attack made into the opponent’s forward motion.

  WASTER A wooden practice weapon; a practice sword.

  THANKS TO…

  My editors, Antonia Markiet and Melanie Donovan, and my agent, Caitlin Blasdell. And the HarperCollins team: publisher Susan Katz, associate editor Greg Ferguson, associate editor Alyson Day, editorial director Phoebe Yeh, copy editor Kathryn Silsand, designer Sasha Illingworth, artist Antonio Javier Caparo, publicist Cindy Hamilton, sales reps (the ones I’ve met so far) John Zeck, Sue Farr, and Rick Starke.

  To my first readers and dear friends: Jenn Reese, Heather Shaw, Greg van Eekhout, Steph Burgis, and Chance Morrison.

  To my twin, Sandra McDonald. And to Haddayr Copley-Woods.

  To the Dragons of the Corn, the best critique group in eastern Iowa: Lisa Bradley, Rachel Swirsky, Cassie Krahe, and Deb Coates.

  To the Blue Heaven crew: Charlie Finlay, Bill Shunn, Paolo Bacigalupi, Holly McDowell, Heather Shaw, Rae Dawn Carson, Toby Buckell, Paul Melko, Ian Tregillis. But I don’t thank the tick.

  To Maud and Theo.

  Most of all, to John, the best husband in the world, and still a very decent critiquer.

  Credits

  Jacket art © 2009 by Antonio Javier Caparo

  Jacket design by Sasha Illingworth

  Copyright

  THE MAGIC THIEF: LOST. Text copyright © 2009 by Sarah Prineas. Illustrations copyright © 2009 by Antonio Javier Caparo. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, no
n-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  Adobe Digital Edition April 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-185923-6

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