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Thief.

C
HAPTER

2

“T
hief!” Magister Trammel shouted, jumping to his feet, jabbing a finger at me. “You see? He is not fit to be the ducal magister! Captain Kerrn, arrest him!”

Kerrn stalked around the table toward me.

I did what any thief would do when somebody accuses him of stealing something—whether he's stolen the thing or not. I dropped Keeston's locus stone and ducked under the table, scrambled to where Embre's thin legs hung down, and poked my head out.

“Conn?” I heard Embre say.

There, the door. I crawled from under the table and went quick-dart out the door and down the hallway, my running footsteps echoing on the marble floor. Pip shot after me.

From behind, Kerrn burst from the meeting-room door. “Stop him!” she shouted. At the other end of the hall, two guards stepped out, blocking my way.

Drats!
I skidded to a stop, and Pip flew past me, then banked with a flutter of wings and dropped onto my shoulder, gripping my sweater with its claws. I whirled back, and Kerrn was there, scowling.

My heart was thump-bumping in my chest, and I backed away from her.

No, wait.

I was
not
the ducal magister but I was a wizard with a dragon locus stone, so she couldn't grab me by the collar and slam me against a wall. Still, I could tell she wanted to. She clenched her fists and made a sound in the back of her throat that sounded like
grrrr
.

Behind Kerrn, Rowan stuck her head out of the meeting-room door. “Did you catch him?” Seeing me, she came all the way out. “My office, Captain Kerrn, and you too, Connwaer,” she ordered. “Now.”

“Yes, Duchess Rowan,” Kerrn answered, without taking her eyes from me. She put her hand on the pommel of her sword. “Will you come?”

I backed up a step. On my shoulder, Pip lashed its tail.

“Or do I put you in chains first?” Kerrn growled.

Oh, all right. “I'll come,” I said.

 

In her office, Rowan sat behind the desk and an angry-looking Nevery was just sitting down beside Embre, who was in his wheeled chair. The office was crowded with lace-doilied chairs and dusty trees in pots, and piles of books and papers.

“Duchess Rowan,” Kerrn said, and gave me a push. “Here is the ducal magister.” She said
ducal magister
the way she might say
poisonous viper
.

“I'm not the—” I started, before Rowan silenced me with a sharp glare.

“Thank you, Captain,” she said, and gazed at me over her golden spectacles. For a moment she reminded me of her mother. “Sit, Connwaer,” she said, pointing at the other padded chair before her desk.

Instead of going to sit there I stayed by the door, leaning against the wall with my hands in my pockets. Pip dropped off my shoulder, then flapped across the room to the windowsill, where it crouched watching us, its eyes glowing red like coals in a winter hearth. Raindrops ticked against the windowpanes outside.

Before anybody said anything, there was a loud knocking at the door; it opened and Rowan's secretary, Miss Dimity, poked her head in. “Duchess Rowan—” she whispered.

“What is it?” Rowan asked, straightening.

“I'm so
very,
very
sorry to interrupt, but several council members are demanding to see you, Your Grace. They insist that the, um”—she bulged her eyes at me, and it was clear as clear that she wasn't seeing a
ducal magister
—“that this young person should be arrested for thievery.”

“Duchess Rowan?” Kerrn said, waiting for orders.

At her desk, Rowan shook her head. “Oh, curse them, anyway,” she said with a sigh. “Tell them to wait, Miss Dimity.” The secretary nodded and went out. Rowan frowned at me. “You'll have to do something about this thieving dragon of yours, Connwaer.”

“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.

C
HAPTER

3

A
fter 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?