Page 80 of Hawk & Sparrow

Maximilian massaged the back of his neck. “I didn’t find out about my intolerance until my third year at university,” he said slowly. “At first, I thought I’d caught some sort of cold, then I told myself that it was just a by-product of stress.” He shook his head. “Eventually though, through process of elimination, I figured it out. I told myself that I would use sorcery less once my studies were complete and I’d received a degree, but then…” He shrugged. “I suppose a part of me doesn’t want to give it up. Sometimes, I believe I really can handle it, but…”

“But you can’t,” said Vesper gently. “You’re not being honest with yourself about your own body’s limitations.”

“It’s not just that.” Maximilian massaged his temple. “There’s also my reputation to consider.”

Vesper blinked. “Your reputation?”

“I come from a long line of respectable sorcerers,” he said. “People wouldn’t understand if I didn’t use sorcery in my everyday life.”

“People wouldn’t expect you to use sorcery if they knew what it cost you,” Vesper argued.

For the first time, Maximilian looked scornful. “Miss Evans, I’m the sole proprietor of a multimillion-gild company. Everything—my family’s reputation, our fortune, the Kite legacy—hinges on the belief that I am a strong, competent, and capable leader. If people knew that I was a sorcerer who couldn’t perform sorcery, what exactly do you think that would make me?”

“It would make you Max,” said Vesper firmly. “And it would make you a person still deserving of respect and decency.”

The sorcerer blinked, surprised. “Max?”

“What?”

“You just called me Max, not Maximilian.”

Vesper felt her face warm. “Isn’t that what you prefer? That’s what you said the first time I interviewed you. I put it in my notes.”

Maximilian nodded. “It is.”

Vesper looked away, and for a few seconds, neither of them said anything. Abruptly, Maximilian stood. He moved around one of the armchairs, and snatched a glass and a large brown bottle from the side table next to it before sitting back down next to her on the rug.

“What is that?” Vesper asked.

“This?” Maximilian looked down at the bottle. “It’s apple cider, spiked with whiskey.” A devilish smile touched his face. “I don’t suppose you’d want some?”

There was a hint of challenge in the question. Vesper heard it. She knew, in any other situation, that she would have said no. Sharing a drink with someone like Maximilian Kite was more than a little ill-advised. But then she thought about what had happened in the bathtub earlier, the voices she hadn’t been able to silence. Maybe a drink, just a sip, would quiet her mind and help her sleep tonight. She held out a hand. Maximilian stared at her.

“Really?”

“Pour me a glass.”

Maximilian blinked in surprise, poured, then handed Vesper the glass. She sipped tentatively. The drink tasted just like normal apple cider, but there was a pleasant cinnamon aftertaste that burned the back of her throat when she swallowed. She handed the glass back, and Maximilian clapped.

“Well, well,” he murmured. “The no-nonsense reporter’s got expensive taste. You should know, the whiskey in that goes for five hundred gild a bottle.”

Never in her life had she ever consumed anything worth that much. She made herself shrug. “It all tastes the same.”

Maximilian gave her an amused look. “You continue to amaze me, Miss Evans.”

Vesper shifted slightly. She didn’t know what to make of the way Maximilian was looking at her. His eyes, still purple, seemed to be getting brighter. The sorcerer grinned.

“You all right?”

“Fine,” she said. She searched for a way to divert the conversation and looked down at herself. “I saw the picture in the hall of you and your parents.” She paused. “What happened to them?”

Maximilian studied his fingernails. “My parents were always interested in new technology. One day, when I was fourteen, they were invited to join the maiden voyage of a flying invention called a dirigible.”

Vesper had a sinking feeling.

“The dirigible crashed shortly after takeoff,” said Maximilian brusquely. “Hard landing. No survivors. I suppose it’s why I’m hesitant when it comes to new technology.” He said the words without emotion.

Vesper did some quick mental math. If Maximilian had turned twenty just a few months ago, and his parents had died when he was fourteen, it meant that he’d lived in this huge manor alone for the last six years. She’d lost her family too, but at least she’d had Tom and the staff at the Globe. She felt a surprising pity for the sorcerer.