Page 76 of Hawk & Sparrow

“The fire’s low!” another firefighter shouted. “We can get in!”

Maximilian sent a third wave of water into the building before lowering his arms. Several firefighters were now racing into the building through its front door. He turned and faced Vesper again and she started. The sorcerer’s skin was pale, and a sheen of sweat slicked his forehead.

“Miss Evans.” His voice was faint. “We need to go.”

Vesper didn’t object this time when he steered her away from the building and back down Pierce Street. Around them, police were arresting laborers now; some had been laid face down in handcuffs on the street. She heard a gunshot somewhere behind them, then a scream. Maximilian picked up his pace.

“This way!”

Her mind was settling, and now common sense kicked in. She grabbed the hems of her skirt and raised them so that she could run faster. A second clap of thunder sounded, and the rain began to fall harder.

“Up ahead!” Maximilian’s dark hair was plastered to his face, and his white shirt was getting soaked. Vesper followed his gaze. Sure enough, the blue-and-gold coach was waiting on the next block. They were closing the distance to it, drawing nearer, when a trio of men stepped out of the shadows. One of them was holding a near-empty beer bottle, the other brandished a bat. They leered as Vesper and Maximilian stopped short.

“Turn out your pockets,” one of them ordered.

Maximilian held up a hand. “We don’t want any trouble.”

“And we didn’t ask for any lip, boy. Turn out your pockets.”

They were closing in on them, the same way the men from earlier had closed in on the two gentlemen. They were outnumbered. Maximilian was a sorcerer, but what he’d done to douse the fire had clearly exhausted him. He’d be easy for them to take down.

“Evans.” Maximilian’s voice was low, so that only she could hear it. “Hang on.”

“What do you—?”

The words had barely left her mouth before Maximilian muttered a Thaumaric incantation and swiped his hand in an arc before him. It was similar to what she’d seen the other sorcerer do before, but the motion was bigger. She heard a gust of wind, then watched as all three men were blown back several feet, as though hit by a tidal wave. They’d barely hit the ground before Maximilian was taking her hand.

“Run!”

They were steps away from the coach now. There was a new stitch in Vesper’s side from running, but she ignored it as she sprinted. They didn’t wait for the footman; Maximilian yanked the door open and half shoved Vesper inside before climbing in after her and shutting it behind him.

“Go!” he bellowed.

There was a violent lurch, and then the coach was racing down the street once more.

TWENTY-FIVE

SATURDAY, 19TH OF NOVEMBER—9:58 P.M.

Rain slicked the coach’s window as it barreled down Basalton’s roads.

Vesper followed each drop as it splattered against the glass, then tracked in a diagonal line all the way to the window’s edge. Adrenaline was still coursing through her veins, but the rhythmic sound of the coach’s wheels against the cobblestone outside was lulling. Eventually, her eyelids grew heavy, and she let her head rest against the tufted upholstery. She closed her eyes, and sighed.

“Are you hurt?”

At once, she was upright again. Across the coach, Maximilian was staring at her. He hadn’t spoken or even looked at her since they’d gotten into it twenty minutes ago. Now he was, and Vesper couldn’t read the expression on his face. It was impossible to tell what color his eyes were in the dim light, but she knew they were dark. His skin was the palest she’d ever seen it, and his dark hair had dripped so much onto his shirt that both of his shoulders were soaked.

“Well,” he said, “are you?” His voice sounded slightly strained.

“I’m fine.”

“Good.”

He turned back to stare at the opposite window, and Vesper saw a muscle twitch near his jawline. Her gaze dropped to his hands. They were balled into fists. Was he angry? Had she done something to offend him?

The coach shifted slightly, and Vesper sensed that they were now on a slight incline, moving uphill. A few minutes later, it rolled to a stop, and the door opened.

“After you,” said Maximilian in that same strained voice. Vesper hesitated, then ducked out of the coach. The footman waiting outside was holding out a black umbrella, protecting her from the drizzle. She lifted her head, then blinked in surprise.