Page 6 of Hawk & Sparrow

Another boisterous round of applause filled the atrium as Mr. Gladwell took several deep bows. Vesper’s gaze inadvertently shot to Maximilian Kite. He was still onstage beside the inventor, clapping like everyone else, but Vesper thought his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. The sorcerer looked strained, even uncomfortable. Abruptly, he smoothed his expression and patted Mr. Gladwell on the back. Then he stepped forward to address the crowd.

“On behalf of the Basalton Coal Foundation, I’d like to thank Francis for joining us, and for that impressive demonstration,” he said. “And now, to conclude our evening, I would ask everyone to convene on the north terrace for a special surprise.”

Vesper moved with the crowd as everyone made their way toward the set of double doors at the back of the atrium. As she walked, she continued looking over her shoulder, trying to keep her eyes on Maximilian Kite. Now that the demonstration was over, she felt a renewed pinch of irritation.

The sorcerer had tricked her.

She replayed their exchange at the dessert table with new understanding. Clearly, he’d known exactly who she was, and decided to play a game with her. She couldn’t decide which part was more embarrassing: knowing that he’d pulled the wool over her eyes so easily, or acknowledging that her skill in deductive reasoning had failed her.

A breeze brushed her skin as she stepped onto the tiled north terrace. Suddenly, she wished she’d remembered a coat. She rose to stand on the tips of her toes, searching. Maximilian Kite was now on the terrace too, several feet away and speaking with Mrs. Lara Oelrich. Vesper started toward him with new determination. Distantly, someone made an announcement—something about a slight delay due to technical difficulties—but she kept her eyes trained on the sorcerer. She was nearly upon him when suddenly he turned toward her. Vesper stopped short, confused. Maximilian Kite gave her a long, steady look, then made a beeline for a set of stairs off to the side. In an instant, he was gone. Vesper blinked.

This had to be another game.

Mr. Kite was toying with her. He wanted her to give up and go home. Vesper slipped the strap of her satchel over her head, her mind made up.

If Maximilian Kite wanted to play another game, this time she intended to win.

She steeled herself, then charged down the stairs after the sorcerer.

THREE

FRIDAY, 4TH OF NOVEMBER—8:34 P.M.

Milk-soft moonlight lit the way as Vesper descended the terrace’s winding stairs.

She’d anticipated the drop in temperature, but was unprepared for the sudden hush as the noise from the reception upstairs faded. She reached the last step, then hesitated.

“Mr. Kite?”

No answer.

Vesper stared into the dark, waiting for her eyes to adjust and her surroundings to take shape. Mrs. Oelrich had mentioned a botanical garden and maze on the museum’s grounds in her opening remarks. This must have been it. A raked gravel path spidered in different directions, cutting through several neat flower beds, and a nearby pond reflected the night sky’s twinkling stars like diamonds scattered across black glass. Under different circumstances, she might have paused to marvel at its beauty.

Up ahead, a wall of towering green hedges loomed. That had to be the start of the maze, and she was prepared to bet her next paycheck that that was where Maximilian Kite had gone. If she wanted her interview, she’d have to go in after him. Another gust of wind whipped about her, and she shivered. It was getting later, colder. Really, she should’ve gone back to the terrace to try to find Mr. Gladwell again. But a pettier thing kept Vesper from turning around. It was that look, the mocking blue glint she’d seen in Maximilian Kite’s eyes on the terrace. He’d regarded her with the arrogance of a chess player who’d always known he’d take her queen. That hit a nerve. Vesper squared her shoulders with new resolve. Mr. Kite had bested her once tonight. She determined then that there would not be a second time.

Her breath fogged as she entered the maze and thick foliage rose around her. She’d only taken a few cautious steps before she found herself at a wall of green, and her first decision. Left or right? Vesper crossed her arms, deliberating. If she’d had a long piece of string, or a plate of food from the exhibition, she might have created a trail to track her progress, but all she had was her satchel and her notebook. She squinted at the ground, trying to see if the sorcerer had left any footprints in the dirt. No luck. Her hand ran along the hedges’ prickly leaves, and she remembered a fail-safe theory she’d once read about called the one-hand rule. No matter how large or intricate a maze, a person could work their way through it by keeping one hand on the maze’s wall and following it. The trick was to never take your hand off the wall. Vesper grinned.

This game was still on.

She glanced in both directions, placed her left palm against one of the leafy walls, then headed right. Near the ground, several tiny floating lights illuminated the path. At first, she thought of fireflies, but when she peered closer, she saw that the lights were purple. Even in here, sorcery was at play. Vesper stared at them, reminded of Francis Gladwell and his machine. She thought of the dragon made of fire, of the triumph she’d seen on the inventor’s face as he’d presented it to an awestruck audience. He’d called his invention revolutionary, and he’d been right. With access to Thaumaric incantations, the possibilities felt endless.

The men who worked deep in the mines outside the city could use incantations to access fresh air; the laundresses who spent their days scrubbing and cleaning clothes could use incantations to do the job faster.

Perhaps a family about to lose everything in a house fire could use an incantation and change their fate.

Vesper swallowed. Was this the dawn of a new era, a whole new future?

A sudden rustling of leaves sounded up ahead. Vesper stilled, waiting. Someone was just around the corner, and she thought she knew who.

I’ve got you now, Mr. Kite.

She edged toward the bend in the path, careful to make sure her left hand didn’t leave the maze’s wall, then rounded the corner.

“Well, Mr. Kite, it was an amusing little game, but—”

The young woman she’d come upon was fair-skinned and buxom, with strawberry-blond hair piled atop her head and a smattering of freckles dusted across her pert nose. She was wearing a beautiful emerald-green dress Vesper suspected had cost a great deal. She might have been in her early twenties, but the shock on her face made her look younger. They stared at each other a beat before the young woman spoke.

“Please.” Desperation colored her lilting voice. “Please don’t say anything.”