Lost by Sarah Prineas Page B

meeting and Benet was scrubbing the kitchen, and snuck over to my workroom.
    On the table were books, Nevery’s treatise on pyrotechnics, dirty teacups, an unlitcandle, a saucer of sulfur emulsion, almost ready, and a cup full of saltpeter.

    The black bird perched on the back of my chair; every once in a while it hopped onto my shoulder and peered down at what I was doing, keeping an eye on me for the magic.
    I knew I wasn’t going to find another locus magicalicus. But I also knew the magic wanted to tell me something, something about the Shadows and Desh, I guessed, and the only way I could hear that something was by doing pyrotechnics.
    I cleaned off the glass rod I’d nicked from Nevery’s workroom and stirred the emulsion in its saucer. The bird hopped down to the tabletop and poked its black beak into the saltpeter. “Stop that, you,” I said, and pushed it away. It ruffled up its feathers, then flapped away to perch on the windowsill.
    The blackpowder was just about ready.
    Right.
    It would just be a small explosion. Nevery wouldn’t even notice it.
    I cleared everything off the table, except for the saucer of sulfur emulsion. With the glass rod I gave it a stir, making the shiny black emulsion swirl around. Then I picked up the cup of saltpeter—the right amount, according to the ratios Embre had written out. Taking a deep breath, I dumped the saltpeter into the saucer.
    I took a step back from the table.
    The saltpeter soaked down into the swirling emulsion. It crackled; bits of light sparked on the surface; smoke gathered around the edge of the saucer.
    On the table and on the floor, tiny motes of dust started jumping around like fleas on a dog. The walls shivered. Glass vials and bottles rattled off the shelves and shattered on the floor. The dragon in the picture on the wall seemed to writhe in a cloud of smoke, winking at me with its red eye.
    With a whumph , fire and smoke billowed from the saucer. Bolts of white light flashed from oneend of the room to the other; books floated from the shelves; papers whirled around. The walls vibrated; the ceiling cracked across. Under my feet, the floor heaved. The magic had to listen. These weren’t the right spellwords, but I had to make it hear. I took a deep breath. “ Tell me ,” I shouted at the magic. “ I can’t go to Desh. What d’you want me to do now? ”
    As the word left my mouth, I was hurled backward. I should have slammed into the workroom wall, but I didn’t. Sparks spun in front of my eyes; I fell through the air; huge blocks of stone hurtled past me, arrows of light shot upward then away. I blinked, and saw the black bird, its wings spread wide, swoop around me once and then tumble away, into the light.
    The magic spoke. Like a giant hand it surrounded me. Its voice vibrated in my bones and in my teeth like deep music. It said the same thing it had said before, but this time building from a low note up to a high shriek, three times, fasterand faster, Damrodellodesseldeshellarhionvarliardenliesh—deshdeshdesh!
    The magic held me for another moment. Then it dropped me, and I fell.

CHAPTER 15
    D own I crashed, lashed by twigs, bouncing off branches, until a bigger branch caught me and held me like a big bony hand.
    In the fall, my arm bone popped out of its shoulder joint; the pain of it spearedinto me. I blinked red flashes out of my eyes. I was in the courtyard tree. My apprentice’s robe was caught on a twig just above me, my body and legs were held by a spreading branch, and my head hung out over open space. I moved, my shoulder sending jabs of pain into me, and the branches holding me shifted. I kept still, trying not to breathe, because my breaths hurt going in. I closed my eyes.

    A fluttering noise came from just above, then grawwwk . I opened my eyes. The black bird had perched on a branch above me and pecked at my apprentice’s robe. Peck peck peck . The cloth twitched off the twig; my weight shifted, and the branches let me go.
    I