A Darker Shade of Magic Read Online Free Page A

enough to try for the bone
, thought Kell. Air, earth, and water were the easiest to will—even Rhy, who showed no affinity whatsoever, could manage to rouse those. Fire was a bit trickier, but by far, the hardest piece to move was the bit of bone. And for good reason. Those who could move bones could move bodies. It was strong magic, even in Red London.
    Kell watched as Ned’s hand hovered over the game board. He began to whisper to the water under his breath in a language that might have been Latin, or gibberish, but surely wasn’t the King’s English. Kell’s mouth quirked. Elements had no tongue, or rather, they could be spoken to in any. The words themselves were less important than the focus they brought to the speaker’s mind, the connection they helped to form, the
power
they tapped into. In short, the language did not matter, only the
intention
did. The Enthusiast could have spoken to the water in plain English (for all the good it would do him) and yet he muttered on in his invented language. And as he did, he moved his hand clockwise over the small board.
    Kell sighed, and propped his elbow on the counter and rested his head on his hand while Ned struggled, face turning red from the effort.
    After several long moments, the water gave a single ripple (it could have been caused by Kell yawning or the man gripping the counter) and then went still.
    Ned stared down at the board, veins bulging. His hand closed into a fist, and for a moment Kell worried he’d smash the little game, but his knuckles came down beside it, hard.
    “Oh well,” said Kell.
    “It’s rigged,” growled Ned.
    Kell lifted his head from his hand. “Is it?” he asked. He flexed his fingers a fraction, and the clod of earth rose from its groove and drifted casually into his palm. “Are you certain?” he added as a small gust caught up the sand and swirled it into the air, circling his wrist. “Maybe it is”—the water drew itself up into a drop and then turned to ice in his palm—“or maybe it’s not. …” he added as the oil caught fire in its groove.
    “Maybe …”
said Kell as the piece of bone rose into the air, “… you simply lack any semblance of power.”
    Ned gaped at him as the five elements each performed their own small dance around Kell’s fingers. He could hear Rhy’s chiding:
Show-off.
And then, as casually as he’d willed the pieces up, he let them fall. The earth and ice hit their grooves with a thud and a clink while the sand settled soundlessly in its bowl and the flame dancing on the oil died. Only the bone was left, hovering in the air between them. Kell considered it, all the while feeling the weight of the Enthusiast’s hungry gaze.
    “How much for it?” he demanded.
    “Not for sale,” answered Kell, then corrected himself, “Not for you.”
    Ned shoved up from his stool and turned to go, but Kell wasn’t done with him yet.
    “If I brought you your dirt,” he said, “what would you give me for it?”
    He watched the Enthusiast freeze in his steps. “Name your price.”
    “My price?” Kell didn’t smuggle trinkets between worlds for the
money
. Money changed. What would he do with shillings in Red London? And pounds? He’d have better luck burning them than trying to buy anything with them in the White alleys. He supposed he could spend the money here, but what ever would he spend it
on
? No, Kell was playing a different game. “I don’t want your money,” he said. “I want something that matters. Something you don’t want to lose.”
    Ned nodded hastily. “Fine. Stay here and I’ll—”
    “Not tonight,” said Kell.
    “Then when?”
    Kell shrugged. “Within the month.”
    “You expect me to sit here and
wait
?”
    “I don’t
expect
you to do anything,” said Kell with a shrug. It was cruel, he knew, but he wanted to see how far the Enthusiast was willing to go. And if his resolve held firm and he were here next month, decided Kell, he would bring the man his bag of