“Ready?” Nevery asked Keeston, coming to a turn in his pacing.
Keeston looked up from the grimoire. “I think so, sir. The spell is far too difficult to memorize, but I think I can read it from the page.”
Inside my cage, I snorted. The anstriker wasn’t that difficult.
“Good lad,” Nevery said, and set the scrying globe in the bowl of slowsilver. Brumbee heaved himself out of the chair and crossed to the worktable to watch.
Keeston held his locus stone in one hand and rested the fingers of his other hand on the scrying globe. He started the spell, speaking slowly, reading from the grimoire. At the end he added my true name—Connwaer.
As the spell effected, the spell-spark searched, slowing when it passed over Nimble’s house, where I was trapped in my cage, but the scrying globe stayed dark.
“Conn’s not in Wellmet?” Keeston asked.
Nevery frowned. “He must be here,” he muttered. He took two quick steps away from the table, then turned and came back. “He’s hiding from the spell, curse him.”
I’m not hiding from you, I wanted to shout. I want you to find me!
“Do the spell again, Keeston,” Nevery said. “But this time escry for Conn’s dragon.”
Now that was a good idea.
“Does the dragon have a true name?” Keeston asked.
“Yes,” Nevery said. “Tallennar.”
“Tallennar,” Keeston whispered.
To Pip’s ears its true name sounded sharp and clear.
Keeston did the anstriker spell again and added “Tallennar” at the end. This time the spell-spark swirled over the city and then circled the tiny Heartsease island, landing right on top of the tiny house and flaring up brightly before flickering out.
“How strange!” Brumbee said. “The spell ended right here.”
Nevery straightened, blinking the brights out of his eyes. “Because the dragon is here.” He looked around the room. “Somewhere in Heartsease.” He saw the window. “Or outside.” He swept-stepped across the room. My Pip-eyes saw him, looming larger, and then Pip ducked its head as Nevery flung the window open.
“Ah, there you are,” Nevery said, looking down at Pip, who clung to the bricks outside. To Pip’s dragon vision, Nevery looked like a shadow surrounded by the embers of flames that had gone out—because of his missing locus stone. Nevery spoke over his shoulder to Brumbee and Keeston. “Thank you for your help. You may go now.”
“But Nevery!” Brumbee sputtered. “We—”
“Call a magisters meeting for midmorning,” Nevery said. He pointed toward the door.
Still sputtering, Brumbee went out, followed by Keeston.
At the window, Nevery stepped aside. “Well, little Pip. Come in.”
My view of the room changed as Pip crawled up and perched on the windowsill.
Nevery examined Pip. “Hmmm,” he said. “You don’t look very well.” He reached out a hand and Pip flinched away. “All right,” Nevery said. He took a step back. “Conn is in trouble, isn’t he,” he said quietly.
Yes, Nevery, I wanted to say. I need your help. I had never asked for help before—I’d always done everything on my own—but this was too big for me.
Pip edged closer to him along the windowsill.
Nevery looked out into the night, which was just lightening to gray morning. “Curse it, boy, where are you?” He glanced down at Pip. “Perhaps you can lead me to him, Pip. We’ll try—”
Bang, bang, bang!
I blinked, and the seeing-and-hearing spell faltered, and I was Conn again, huddled in the corner of the cage with my head down on my knees and the cold from the tourmalifine wires seeping into my bones, feeling sick-shivery with worry.
“What’s the matter with him?” a sharp voice said. Sootle. He banged on the cage again.
I lifted my head. “What d’you want?” I asked. My voice sounded rusty.
“Breakfast,” Sootle said. “Stay down there and I’ll put it in.”
Right. I watched as he used the keystone to open the cage, slid in a tray with breakfast on it, and closed the door again. Another swift, the woman Floss, was at the window, the one Pip had broken during the night. She held up a plank of wood and laid it across the frame and tapped in a nail to hold it in place.
On the tray was a bowl of porridge with two eggs on it this time, and an apple, and a cup of tea with curls of steam rising off it. I stared at it, stiff and cold and still getting used to seeing as Conn and not as Pip.
Nevery was being smart, trying to get Pip to lead him to me. That might work, if Nevery could get Keeston’s help and figure out the right spellwords to use. He might come soon. If he did he’d better get some help from the Dawn Palace guards, maybe Kerrn and Rowan with their swords.
“You all right?” Sootle asked.
I nodded.
“Eat it, then,” he said. With his foot he tapped the side of the cage.
I looked up at him. He hadn’t seemed so bad when he’d been the leader of the chimney swifts and I’d been his charboy. I’d even sort of liked him. But all along he’d been working for Crowe—and he was willing to kill for Crowe, too.
“Lied to us about your name, did you?” he said, narrowing his eyes as he stared down at me. “Not Pip at all, but Conn. Not a charboy at all, but a spying little wizard.” His long nose twitched. “As young a scrap as you are, you don’t look like a wizard.”
Sure as sure, he thought a wizard should look like the oil paintings back in the ducal magister’s rooms. I shrugged.
He frowned. “Eat your breakfast or I’ll take it away.”
All right. I uncurled myself from the corner and reached for the cup of tea.
Nevery would come. He’d come soon.
From the Duchess to the Underlord
Dear Embre.
It’s been days since we’ve heard from Conn. Don’t you care what happens to him? Are we supposed to sit around and wait while he gets himself into worse and worse trouble? All of these things happening at once—the locus stones missing, the troubled magics, the gangs in the city—it can’t be a coincidence, and somehow Conn is the key to it all. I feel like something is about to happen, as if there is a hammer poised above the city, and we are sitting here waiting for the blow.
I just wish I knew who was holding the hammer so we could do something about it. If I have to attend yet another meeting that produces no action I may scream.
Sincerely,
Rowan
Duchess
Dawn Palace, Sunrise
Dearest of Rowans,
We are not just sitting around waiting, as you say. Well, I am by necessity sitting, but I am not doing nothing. My men are on high alert, though they report nothing of Conn. The gang that has been causing trouble both here and in the Sunrise must have a base of operations. I can assure you that it is not in the Twilight. Has the palace guard scoured the Sunrise for such activity?
I expect you’ve heard by now from Nevery that we are to meet with him later at the Dawn Palace. Yes, O best beloved, another meeting, but I trust that once we have discussed these troubles we will think of something that needs doing. Perhaps it will involve swords and fighting, which I expect would fulfill your rather Conn-like need to act.
Yours forever,
Embre
CHAPTER
24
Nevery didn’t come. Neither did Captain Kerrn and a troop of Dawn Palace guards, or Rowan wielding her sword, or Embre and a pack of his men.
Neither did Crowe.
I sat in my corner and shivered, watching the swift Floss finish boarding up the window. When she was done, she pulled up a chair in front of my cage. Crowe must’ve given her orders to keep an eye on me. I heard muffled voices and people moving around downstairs. Something was happening.
I tried to stay awake, to see if the noise would give me a clue about what was going on, but after a while I fell asleep.
When I woke up, it was late afternoon and the chimney swift was go
ne and the house was quiet. I pushed my face up against the cage again and said Pip’s true name: “Tallennar.”
The seeing-and-hearing spell showed me that Pip was perched in the corner of a big room. Seeing the room like that, from high up and bright with the Pip-eyes flames, made me dizzy and I closed my own eyes for a moment, then cracked them open again.
Desk cluttered with papers, tall windows, a dusty tree in a pot, comfortable chairs with lace doilies on them. Oh, I’d been there before. It was Rowan’s office in the Dawn Palace. Rowan herself, wearing her duchess uniform, a green velvet dress, with her red hair hanging in an fraying braid down her back, sat behind her desk. Nevery sat in one of the comfortable chairs, and Captain Kerrn leaned against a wall with her hand on the pommel of her sword. Next to the desk sat Embre in his wheeled chair. He was pale and had dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept.
“He did what?” Rowan was saying.
“You heard what he said, Ro,” Embre said sharply.
Rowan shot him a cross look.
“It should not be unexpected,” Kerrn said. “He is a thief.”
So Nevery had told them about me stealing his locus stone.
“Thief or not,” Embre said, “he must’ve had a reason.”
Yes, I’d had a reason. Not a good one, as it’d turned out.
“He must have,” Rowan agreed. She took a breath and folded her hands on her desk. Calming herself so she could be duchess-like. “Magister Nevery, did Conn say anything when he picked your pocket?”
Nevery opened his mouth to answer, but a knock at the door interrupted him.
Miss Dimity poked her head into the room. “Duchess Rowan, I’m so terribly sorry to—”
“—to interrupt,” Rowan said impatiently. “Yes, I know. What is it?”
Miss Dimity’s mouth pinched with distaste. “There is a . . . ahem . . . a messenger here, and he insists on seeing Magister Nevery.”
Rowan raised her eyebrows and Nevery nodded. “Show him in,” he said.
Miss Dimity ushered the mudlark Den into the room, then stood behind him with her bony hand on Den’s shoulder.
When I’d met him on the mudflats, Den had seemed big, like a minion-in-training, but in Rowan’s office he looked grubby and hungry. He lowered his one eyebrow and glared around the room. His voice surly, he said, “I’ve got a message for a wizard named Never.”
Nevery nodded. “I am Nevery.”
Den shrugged Miss Dimity’s hand off his shoulder. “Nevery, right,” he said. “My message is from this piece of work gutterboy-wizard. Conn. D’you know him?”
Nevery leaned forward in his chair. “I do.”
Den cast a quick look around the room, at Rowan and Embre, catching sight of Pip up in the corner of the ceiling. “Conn said to go to Heartsease, right? But you weren’t there, were you? So I came here.” He shrugged. “Couldn’t get to you sooner. Had to get my lot settled first, and then she”—he nodded at Miss Dimity—“didn’t want to let me in here.”
Nevery looked like a kettle about to boil over. “What,” he said, biting off the words, “is Conn’s message?”
Den scowled at Nevery. “I’m getting to it.” He rubbed his nose. “Conn says Crowe’s in the city.”
Nevery’s eyes widened, then he nodded. “What else?”
Den shrugged. “He said to tell you it’s Crowe that’s been stealing the locus stones. And he said if you didn’t hear from him that Crowe’d probably got him.”
Rowan gasped, and Nevery went pale. Embre couldn’t go any paler than he already was.
Don’t worry, I wanted to tell them. I’m all right.
“He said Crowe would take him to a house in the Sunrise,” Den went on. He pointed at Nevery. “And he said you should be careful.”
“Curse the boy,” Nevery muttered.
“And,” Den went on, “he said to use the ’striker spell to find him.”
“Would that work?” Rowan asked.
“I tried it last night,” Nevery said, shaking his head. “It didn’t work. Clearly Crowe has figured out some way to hide from the spell, and to hide Conn from us.”
Ro leaped up from behind her desk and started to pace. “We must find Conn at once. We’ll start by trying to find that house in the Sunrise where they’re keeping him. Captain Kerrn?”
Kerrn stood alert and ready, her hand still on the pommel of her sword. “We will find him, Duchess.”
Suddenly Rowan stopped pacing, and her face went very pale. “Oh. Oh, no,” she whispered to herself. “We’re not thinking this through. Crowe has returned.” Rowan gnawed at a thumbnail. “All of the magisters’ locus stones have been stolen and Conn has been kidnapped, so we have no wizards to help us.” She glanced at Embre. “It’s quite clear, isn’t it? Crowe is making a move to take over the city.”
Embre was gripping the arms of his chair, his thin hands like claws. “We have to stop him.” His face was white and fierce.
Rowan gave a brisk nod. “Yes, we do.” She clenched her right hand, and I knew she was thinking about gripping her sword. Then she turned a bleak look on Embre. When she spoke, her voice shook. “We can’t send your men or the palace guards to search for Conn.”
“I know,” Embre said. “I care about him, too. But you’re the duchess. And I’m the Underlord. We have to protect the city first.”
In my cage, Embre’s words made me shiver as I realized something. I was the same as them. We were friends, me and Rowan and Embre, but the same way they had to put the city first, I had to put the magics first. It meant we could never be careful or safe; it meant we would always do what had to be done. If only I could talk to Rowan and Embre now, at this moment, I knew they would understand, and maybe Nevery would, too.
But I couldn’t. Instead I squeezed my eyes tightly closed and watched what was happening in Rowan’s office.
She and Embre both looked at Nevery, who’d gone to stand at the window. “I’m sorry,” Rowan said, her voice shaking. “We can see that you’re worried about him.”
To Pip’s eyes, Nevery burned less brightly, and his face looked lined and tired. He nodded, then said, “Leave finding Conn to me.” He pointed at Pip. “And to—”
Poke, poke, poke.
“Is he dead?” a sharp voice asked.
Poke.
“Dunno,” another voice answered.
I opened my eyes. A narrow finger reached through the wire mesh and poked my arm again.
“I’m not dead,” I said in a creaky voice. I lifted my head. My cheek was cold where it’d been pressed against the tourmalifine floor of the cage. Rubbing it, I sat up.
Outside the cage crouched Sootle. Seeing me awake, he got to his feet. “Brought your dinner and a blanket,” he said. “Don’t give me any trouble.”
I climbed stiffly to my feet. Trouble? Me?
Sootle reached into his pocket and pulled out the keystone and used it to open the cage door. Then he put the stone back into his pocket.
As he turned to fetch the dinner tray off the table, I shoved the door wider open and flung myself out of the cage. I got two steps into the room, and Sootle came after me, dropping the tray with a crash. He grabbed me. I kicked and struggled as he wrestled me back into the cage and slammed the door behind me. I crouched on the cage floor, panting. He glared down at me, then pointed at the broken dinner dishes. “No dinner for you, then, charboy.” He kicked at the cage. “No blanket, neither.”
“Leave him,” said the swift by the door. “It’s almost time.”
Time for what? From downstairs came more bumps and thumps and I heard Nimble’s whiny voice shout something. As Rowan had said, Crowe was planning to take over the city, and he was making his move tonight.
“Right,” said Sootle, and after kicking my cage again, he left the room, followed by the other swift.
I waited until their footsteps clattered away down the stairs.
Stupid chimney swifts. They knew I was a wizard, but they’d already forg
otten about my quick hands. When he’d been wrestling me back into the cage, I’d picked the keystone from Sootle’s pocket.
CHAPTER
25
The keystone fit through the wire mesh, so I pushed it through with my fingers and pressed it against the corner of the cage where the door opened. Nothing happened.
“Stupid stone,” I whispered.
I pulled the stone back through the wires and clenched it in my fist. Crowe was out in the city making his move, whatever it was. I needed to get out.
“Tallennar!” I shouted for the hundredth time. I’d tried the seeing-hearing spell and saw only darkness. Was the dragon sleeping? Wake up, Pip!
I turned to the cage to try the stone again. Steadying my fingers, I slid the keystone through the mesh. A noise from out in the hallway made my head jerk up. The stone slipped from my fingers and dropped to the floor. It bounced once and rolled away.
“Oh, curse it!” I kicked the side of the cage. Then I crouched and poked my fingers through the mesh, reaching for the stone. Too far.
The door to the attic opened. Nimble came in. I jumped to my feet and put my hands behind my back. Had he seen me trying to get the keystone?
Nimble crossed the room to stand before my cage; he was carrying a burlap sack with something in it.
I snuck a quick-look down. The keystone was just a finger length away from his foot. If he glanced at the floor, he would see it.
“Caught like a rat in a trap, aren’t you, gutterboy?” Nimble said, giving me his smirk-smile.
Oh, so he’d come to gloat. I glared at him.
“Crowe and I have arranged it so that everything that happens to the city tonight will seem like your doing. All the work of one gutterboy turned wizard who we never should have trusted because he was plotting to take over the city for himself. In the chaos after the deaths of the girl duchess and that crippled boy Underlord, Crowe and I will step in and save the city by destroying the rogue wizard Connwaer. Clever, is it not?” Nimble said. “We—”