A Sorcerer
Alex
Iowed the success of my deal with Knight to Darius and his potions, and watching him gloat over the compliments he received made me smile.
We’d spent the evening in Whitechapel, going from house to house and visiting the people affected by rabies. Darius had quickly become the hero of the day with children chanting his name and grandmamas offering him sweets and biscuits. He loved every moment of it.
As I leant against the wall of yet another house, the smell of humidity and old paint stuck to my nose.
These people might have a problem with rabies, but their homes were far from healthy.
Icy draughts sneaked in through cracks in the windows.
The floorboards squeaked bloody murder when someone stepped on them.
And the fire didn’t seem to warm anything.
I’d lived in a place like that; it’d chipped away at my sense of safety and humanity.
The war between Knight and the late Moon Duke must have dried up his resources because he’d always struck me as a responsible duke who cared about his people.
“And it’s done.” Darius helped a child drink a violet potion.
The poor child had gulped down three or four concoctions without complaining, and the improvements were obvious. He wasn’t shivering or throwing up anymore, and his fever had broken. The other two children were romping around after Darius had given them the same drink.
“Thank you, Mr. Strange.” Mrs. Clifford, the child’s mother, stared at Darius as if he’d invented sunshine. “You’re the most extraordinary mage I’ve ever met.”
Darius hooked his thumbs into his waistcoat. “You’re most welcome, madam.” He stood there, smiling.
Irene helped Mrs. Clifford change the bedsheets although she had obviously never done it. She confused the bottom sheet with the top sheet and made a mess with the pillowcases, but Mrs. Clifford didn’t complain, though now and then, her amber werewolf’s eyes flashed.
“I can give you two sovereigns.” Mrs. Clifford opened a tin box that likely contained all her savings.
“We don’t want anything.” Darius held up a palm.
That wasn’t true. I wanted information.
Mrs. Clifford couldn’t look more enamoured with Darius as she stared up at him. “I apologise for the state of the house.”
Darius took out a few more bottles from his bag. “Do not worry, madam. The outbreak must have hit the Moon Court hard.”
Mrs. Clifford lifted a shoulder. “It’s not just the outbreak.
The war was taxing on us, but life is better since the new duke is leading us.
I belong to the small group of Molossians who lived under the late duke, and he wasn’t fair to us.
He wanted us to leave. His treatment of the Molossians was so despicable that Knight intervened. ”
Irene stopped making the bed. “I had no idea the late Moon Duke was so cruel.”
I didn’t say anything although the revelation was new to me as well.
“He wasn’t completely cruel,” Mrs. Clifford said. “Not always, and he allowed witches and wizards to help the people. Knight doesn’t want mages here. He doesn’t trust them.”
Darius scoffed before gulping down a chocolate biscuit.
“Were there many mages and witches in Whitechapel?” Irene folded and unfolded a linen cloth.
We’d asked the same question to every patient, but no one had talked.
“Not many.” Mrs. Clifford took charge of the folding.
I moved when one of the children rushed close to me. “Have you ever heard of Mr. Sean Lewis or Johnny Riley? A sorcerer who can turn people into animals?”
Mrs. Clifford stopped tidying the room. “I have heard about him when the late Moon Duke was ruling. I mean, I’ve heard about a sorcerer who turns people into animals, but I don’t remember any Mr. Lewis or Riley.”
“Tell us what you know.” Darius put one of the bottles of his potions on the nightstand.
She paled. “I never understood if he truly was a wizard or not. Sometimes he seemed just a trickster. He enjoyed people’s fear and pain. Not the type of person you would like to spend time with.”
I exchanged a glance with Irene. “What was his name?”
She spoke in a whisper. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
Darius put a hand on his chest. “Not a soul.”
“Someone called him Lord Rothbart.”
Darius’s expression changed from pleased to puzzled. “Thank you, madam. I’ll be back to see how your sons are faring, but they’re going to recover fully in a day or two.”
After Mrs. Clifford thanked us again and I insisted I didn’t want any money, we didn’t speak on the way to the carriage.
Irene was climbing into it when Knight seemingly came out of nowhere. I hadn’t heard him approaching.
“Ravenhill.”
Irene screamed so loudly I winced.
Darius flinched. “Goodness, Irene. You destroyed my eardrums.”
She exhaled, a hand on her chest.
I faced the Moon Duke. “Knight. Is something the matter?”
“No, quite the opposite.” Even when he delivered good news, he remained on high alert. “Thank you and your wizard—”
“Mage,” Darius muttered.
“For your help.” Knight shot him a glance. “I won’t sign Esmeralda’s bill on magic restriction, and whatever the consequences, I will be on your side.” He stretched out an arm.
Dammit. I gnashed my teeth and shook his hand briefly. The leather glove reduced the pain, and I focused on not shivering, thinking about Irene and her soft skin.
“Thank you.” My voice sounded strangled.
Knight gave me a curt nod before walking away.
“I’m impressed,” Darius said.
“So am I.” Irene beamed at me. “You shook his hand.”
“Briefly. And it’s thanks to you.”
I climbed into the carriage after Irene and Darius and waited until we were out of Whitechapel before speaking. “Who the hell is Lord Rothbart?”
“I have no idea.” Darius took out his damn book. “But I’ll find out soon.”
“In the book?” I asked.
He skimmed through the pages. “This book can answer any question if you ask it in the correct way.”
“But how the hell… Leave it.” I pressed two fingers to my temples.
Darius would answer with a riddle, and I had no patience for it.
He stroked his chin, staring out of the window. “He feeds on people’s fear and pain.”
“I can’t believe this Lord Rothbart is Sean.” Irene shook her head.
“Extraordinary, isn’t it?” A maniacal light glinted in his gaze. “A sorcerer who feeds on fear and pain like the Algea, the three goddesses of suffering. I’m convinced his range of spells is limited.”
“Yet,” I said, “we’ve been searching for him for years and never found him.”
He resumed staring out of the window. “I need to gather more data. That’s all I have to say.”