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  “Pip’s not a thief,” I said.

  “Really,” Rowan said, her voice dry.

  Well, Pip was a thief. Its true name, Tallennar, meant thief in the dragon language. But it wouldn’t steal locus stones. Would it? Maybe it would. It had stolen my locus stone and swallowed it. But why steal Keeston’s stone?

  Rowan was shaking her head. “It’s not exactly an auspicious start to your term as ducal magister.”

  “Ro, I’m not the ducal magister,” I said.

  “Yes, you are,” Rowan insisted.

  “No, I’m not,” I insisted right back at her.

  “All right then, Conn.” Rowan leaned forward and put her elbows on the desk. “You said you know who you are. So tell me.” She waved around the room at Embre and Kerrn and Nevery. “Tell all of us. Who are you?”

  That was easy. “I’m Nevery’s apprentice.”

  Nevery shook his head. “You know more about the magical beings than I do, boy.”

  That was true. “I’m a wizard, then,” I said.

  “The other magisters don’t think so,” Rowan said. “They think you’re a troublemaker.”

  Drats, that was true, too.

  “Once a thief, always a thief,” Kerrn put in.

  “I’m not a thief,” I shot back.

  “Well, then?” Rowan said, sitting back and looking satisfied, as if she’d proven something. “What are you?”

  I glared at her.

  “You see?” she said. “I’m right. And I think that will be all,” she said. “Conn, you stay for a moment.” She nodded at Nevery. “Magister Nevery, will you settle the magisters?”

  “If they can be settled.” Nevery got up from his chair. “Which I doubt.” He bristled his eyebrows at me. “We’ll discuss this further when you get home to Heartsease, Connwaer.”

  I shrugged. He could talk if he wanted to. I didn’t have any more to say about it.

  “Well, boy?” Nevery asked sharply.

  I glanced up at him. He was studying me with his keen-gleam black eyes.

  I knew what he was thinking. Not very long ago, when I had tied the two magics to Wellmet, the magics had taken what was me, but left my body behind. For a long time I’d been lost, like a walking, talking puppet-boy. Ever since I’d found myself again, Nevery had been keeping a closer eye on me. Maybe he thought I would disappear again if he wasn’t paying attention.

  “You’ll come straight home, my lad?” he asked.

  “Yes, Nevery,” I said, because I knew it would make him not worry.

  Nevery nodded, then strode from the room, his cane going tap-tap on the stone floor.

  Embre smiled at Rowan. “You’ll keep me informed?” he asked her. He leaned forward and brushed the back of Rowan’s hand with his fingers.

  She blushed, then jerked her hand away and gave him an annoyed nod. “Of course, Underlord.”

  Captain Kerrn followed Embre as he wheeled himself out. Sure as sure Kerrn would wait outside the door, then hustle me out of the Dawn Palace when Rowan was done with me.

  The office door clicked closed.

  Just me and Rowan. My best friend. Who wanted me to be someone I really couldn’t be.

  A tappity-tap on the door. “Duchess Rowan?” Miss Dimity. “I implore you to forgive me for interrupting,” the secretary said. “But I must remind you, Your Grace, that according to our daily agenda, it is time for you to change into your formal gown for this evening’s musical gala.”

  “Yes, I’m coming,” Rowan answered. “I just need a moment. Please wait outside.”

  “You don’t want to be late, Your Grace,” Miss Dimity reminded, and with a sniff, went out and closed the door.

  Rowan blew out a sigh. “Musical gala. It’ll be harps again, I expect.” She turned briskly to me. “Look, Conn, I know you’re happy as you are, and I really am sorry to insist, but the ducal magister has to be you.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  She was barely holding on to her patience, I could tell. “It has to do with power,” she said. “The duchess, the Underlord, and the ducal magister. We each do our jobs and the city stays . . .” She held her hands palm up. “Balanced. Do you understand?”

  I understood that, but why me? “Nevery’d be better at it.”

  Rowan took off her golden spectacles and tossed them onto her desk. Then she came ’round and flopped into one of the padded chairs. She glanced at me, then studied the tips of her black shoes. “Conn, I’ve been training all my life to become duchess of this city. I’ve had lessons in swordcrafting, diplomacy, government, budget management, etiquette, architecture, city planning, and in magic. But”—her voice quavered a little—“my mother died before she should have. I’m the duchess, but I’m only sixteen years old.” She sat up straight and pointed in the direction of the Twilight, where my cousin Embre, the Underlord, lived. “And Embre is nineteen. Both of us are very young for our positions. Nevery is much older and very powerful.”

  And so he threw off the balance. I got it.

  Rowan pointed at me. “You, on the other hand, don’t overbalance me and Embre. You’re the right age, and, like us, you’re still discovering the reach of your power. It has to be you. Especially now, with the magics settled here so precariously.”

  I didn’t think she was right about that. I didn’t say anything.

  “And, well,” Rowan went on, looking at the tips of her shoes again. “I’m so busy right now, trying to become a good duchess, as my mother was. I work all the time and it’s—well, it’s lonely.” She gave a tired sigh. “You’re my friend. I want you here.”

  Maybe, even with all that training she’d done, and even though she was good at it, she didn’t like being the duchess. Still, I couldn’t be the ducal magister, not even if saying no to Rowan made my heart hurt a little.

  It wasn’t just about not wanting to go to meetings or live in the fancy rooms in the Dawn Palace. I could do those things if I had to, even if I didn’t like them. The problem was that ducal magister was a title, but it wasn’t what I was. Too much of me was still gutterboy; too many of my ideas were too dangerous for the other wizards to understand; too many people didn’t trust me, for a lot of reasons, and Nevery was right that I wasn’t really his apprentice anymore. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was—what my role in Wellmet was supposed to be. But ducal magister was not it.

  Pip had crawled up the wall to hang upside down on the ceiling, where it puffed out smoke like a little teakettle. “Come on,” I called to the little dragon, and turned away.

  “Conn!” Rowan called after me.

  I didn’t answer, but I slammed the office door behind me.

  No, it meant. No.

  CHAPTER

  3

  After Kerrn followed me to the front doors of the Dawn Palace, her eyes drilling little eye-shaped holes in my back, I headed out into the wide, puddled streets of the Sunrise. Pip didn’t mind the rain, so it hopped off my shoulder and flew ahead, perching on a step or a sign over a shop doorway, watching me, then flying ahead again.

  I went along to the Night Bridge, then to the wizards’ tunnels, going down the slippery-steepery steps to the first gate. In the chilly darkness, I leaned against the tunnel wall with my hands in my pockets, waiting for Pip. All around, I could hear the faint rush-rush of the river, and the sound of water dripping. After a while, Pip came crawling along the tunnel ceiling. “Lothfalas,” I said, the light spell, and the little dragon started to glow. It dropped from the ceiling and landed with a splat in a puddle.

  “Tired?” I asked, picking Pip up and holding it up to the gate. I said the opening spell. Giving me a cross-eyed look, Pip put its snout against the lock, which clicked open. We went through all the gates until we got to the last gate that led to Heartsease. Pip opened the lock, then flopped out of my hands to the stone floor of the tunnel.

  I grinned down at Pip. “It’s your own fault, if you really did spend the afternoon thieving,” I said to it.

  Pip burped out
another swirl of sparks. The lothfalas spell wore off, and the tunnel went dark.

  Shaking my head, I climbed the stairs. At the top, I stopped. Way across the cobbled courtyard, Heartsease was waiting. Home.

  When I’d settled the two magics in the city, Heartsease—the house I lived in with Nevery and his bodyguard, Benet—had had its roof blown off. Not for the first time, either. So now the top floor was being rebuilt. Most of it was done, but the cobblestoned courtyard in front of the house was scattered with piles of bricks and barrels of nails, and a huge pile of roofing slates.

  It was a narrow building, five stories tall. Each story had three windows across, and the ones on the first floor—the kitchen—were bright with lights, and so were the ones on the next floor up—Nevery’s study. His workroom and bedroom were on the third floor, the ground floor was the storeroom and Benet’s room, and the top floor, the one without the finished roof, was mine. I started toward it. Maybe Benet was making pot pie for dinner. Mmm, the kind with gravy and a biscuit crust.

  From behind me came the faintest skff-skff of footsteps sliding over cobblestones. I felt a prickle on the back of my neck, like I was being watched. I stopped. Rain pattered down. A sooty mist crept along the ground. I glanced over my shoulder. Nothing, just the dark river and the faint lights of the Twilight beyond it.

  When I turned back, a man-shaped shadow stood between me and the safe, warm windows of Heartsease.

  “This him?” a deep voice asked.

  “It is,” a deeper voice said from behind me.

  I opened my mouth to shout for Pip, when a fist crashed into my face. “Pip!” I gasped out. I staggered back and the man behind me caught me, spun me around, and punched me hard in the ribs.

  Then he grabbed me by the front of my sweater. “You’re coming with us, wizard boy.”

  Oh, no, I wasn’t. I gave him a sharp kick in the shins and tried to squirm out of his grip.

  He pulled back his fist to hit me again, and I felt Pip coming, a sharp bolt of fire, and then the little dragon was there, shooting like a golden arrow from the mouth of the tunnel and into the face of the man. He dropped me with a muffled shout and raised his hands to defend himself.

  I fell onto the hard cobblestones, black spots whirling in front of my eyes. Over my head I heard Pip hissing and spitting puffs of flame, and the men trying to fight the dragon off.

  A spell—I needed a spell to keep the men from dragging me away with them. I gasped out the first few words of the embero spell—it was all I could think of and it would change the attackers into animals—when one of the men whirled away from Pip and kicked me in the ribs. I gasped and grabbed at his foot, and as he tumbled down Pip was on him, its claws raking at the man’s face.

  As the man lumbered to his feet, I scrambled away and Pip hovered over my head, its wings flapping furiously.

  The two men, hulking shadows in the darkness, backed away from us. “Curst dragon,” I heard one of them mutter.

  “We can’t get ’im now,” the other one said back. “Let’s go.” And they faded into the darkness and were gone.

  My head spun, the excitement of the fight faded, and I tipped over and found myself sprawling on the ground. Cold from the courtyard cobblestones seeped into my bones. Pip landed next to me and stalked around, hissing and lashing its tail. From where I lay I could see the warm lights from the kitchen windows.

  Right. Well, it could’ve been worse if Pip hadn’t come. Slowly I creaked up until I was sitting. I pulled up my knees and folded my arms on them, then rested my aching head on my arms. My face hurt and I could feel the blow I’d gotten spreading into a bruise. Blood leaked from my nose and split lip and onto the sleeve of my sweater. Nothing broken though, I didn’t think.

  Pip crawled up my leg, then onto the top of my head, clinging to my hair.

  “Ow,” I said. My voice was muffled in my sweater-sleeve. I shivered, getting cold. Pip hopped down to perch on my shoulder, then edged closer, curling its tail around my neck.

  “Minnervas,” I said, a spell.

  The minnervas was supposed to be a warming spell.

  But the magisters were right about one thing—the two magics were not working the way they were supposed to.

  As the spell effected, Pip started to glow, which felt nice at first, but then the spell went wrong and its warmth turned hotter until its belly burned red-hot, and I was dizzily scrambling to my feet while pushing Pip off my shoulder.

  Ow. I rubbed at the burned spot on my sweater.

  On the ground, Pip snapped at its belly, which glowed like a hot stove on a winter day. Quickly I stopped the minnervas spell. Pip glared at me.

  “Sorry,” I whispered, and shook my aching head, trying to think.

  Right, the magics were a problem, I knew that already. They really were like two dragons, both trying to fit into one dragon’s space, and even a simple spell like the minnervas was enough to make them twitchy.

  But now those men had tried to kidnap me. Wizard boy, they’d called me. Who were they? What was going on? Why did they want me?

  And were they going to try again?

  CHAPTER

  4

  Getting across the courtyard took a long time because I had to keep waiting with my eyes closed until my head stopped spinning, and then going on without tripping over a pile of lumber or extra bricks.

  I needed to get upstairs without Nevery and Benet seeing me and making a fuss. And I needed time to think.

  I had been a thief; I was good at sneaking. I crept into Heartsease and up the stairs, past the kitchen, where I heard Benet clattering pans on the stove. A stair creaked.

  “That you?” Benet called. Like Nevery, since I’d been lost and then found again, Benet wanted to know where I went and that I’d gotten home safely.

  I coughed, and kept my voice steady. “Yes, it’s me,” I answered.

  “Dinner soon,” he said.

  I kept going up the stairs, past Nevery’s study, where I didn’t hear anything, and up to my room.

  Before putting on a light I paused, wondering if the spell would work. Steadying myself and closing my eyes, I reached out and sensed the magics. They felt more settled now. Maybe they’d been twitchy before because Pip had been defending me from those kidnappers. Might as well try it. “Lothfalas,” I whispered, and Pip breathed out a puff of light that drifted across the room and settled in a glass-globed lantern on a shelf.

  On one side of the room I had my worktable, boxes of books that I hadn’t unpacked yet, a high stool, and bare wooden floors. A ladder leaned against one wall, and there was a pile of broken roof slates next to it. On the other side of the room was my bed with another box of books beside it, the fireplace, a warm red rug that was still rolled up, and a box of clothes. Everything had a coating of sawdust on it, and overhead the roof was half finished and half canvas stretched over wooden beams. It was enough to keep the rain and damp out, mostly. It was home, completely.

  Leaving the lantern on the shelf, I creaked over to the bed and lay down on top of the blankets. Pip curled on the pillow next to me, one of its claw-paws resting against my face. I let the light go out and closed my eyes.

  After a while I heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. From outside the door, down a couple of steps, Benet called, “Dinner.”

  In the dark I dragged myself off the bed and over to the door and opened it a crack. “I’m not hungry, Benet,” I said. The words came out stiffly because of my split lip.

  I held my breath until I heard him grunt, then stomp away, down the stairs.

  I went back to bed.

  After a short while, I heard other footsteps on the stairs. Nevery. He knocked on the door, then pushed it open.

  As he muttered the lothfalas spell, kindling a light, I pushed Pip away and pulled the pillow over my head.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, boy,” Nevery said. “Of course you’re hungry. You’re always hungry. Come down now; I want to talk to you about being the ducal mag
ister, and about this locus-stone-stealing dragon of yours.”

  “I’m just going to sleep,” I said, from under the pillow.

  Nevery stopped. “Something’s wrong,” he said.

  Just go away, Nevery.

  His footsteps came across the room, and then he lifted the pillow off my head.

  I cracked open my eye, the one that wasn’t swollen shut, to see. He stared at me, his face turning to chipped stone. “Who did this?” His voice was low and angrier than I’d ever heard it, and I knew he wasn’t angry at me.

  Heavy footsteps from the stairs interrupted us. “Here, you lot,” Benet said, coming in the doorway. “Dinner’s getting cold.” Then he saw me.

  “A fight?” Nevery asked me.

  Benet bulled across the room, then stared down at me, his burly arms crossed. “No. That’s professional work, that is. Who?” he asked.

  “It’s not so bad,” I said, sitting up stiffly. I’d had the fluff beaten out of me before; it really wasn’t.

  “It’s bad enough, boy,” Nevery said.

  Benet came closer, peering into my face. “You tell who did this. Now.”

  All right. “I don’t know who did it.” Drats, they needed to know more than that. I looked up at Nevery and tried not to shiver so he wouldn’t see how scared I’d been. “They were waiting for me. Outside in the courtyard.” I didn’t mention that the men had tried to kidnap me. I knew they’d worry even more if they found out about that part of it.

  “Curse it,” Nevery growled.

  Benet clenched his fists and looked ready to squeeze the life out of the fluff-beaters if he got his hands on them. “What did they want?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I answered.

  “It can’t be a coincidence.” Nevery narrowed his eyes and studied me. “A locus stone stolen and now this. What are you up to, boy?”

  “Nothing, Nevery!” I protested.

  “It must be something,” he growled.

  No, really! I wasn’t up to anything!