Missing Magic by Emma Laybourn

Author:Emma Laybourn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2010-03-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

I HAD barely begun to doze when an oath and a sharp kick jolted me fully awake. “Get up, you useless scum!”

As I staggered to my feet, my boat—a boat no longer—slid to the ground in a little heap of dust and grit.

“What’s that meant to be?” the fat guard roared. “Haven’t been trying, have you, brat! Ready to go overboard, are you?”

“No! I was trying! I just can’t do magic.”

“Liar! Everyone can do magic. You’re going over.”

“But it’s true!”

“It’s true,” said Jay behind me. The guard turned around and hit him.

“Shut up, or you’ll go over too!”

But Golden Earring eyed me thoughtfully. “Wait . . . I think this one should go to Lady Galera. She might be interested. She’ll sort him out, anyway.”

The fat guard laughed nastily. “That’s for sure! Get over here, scum!”

He bundled me outside, onto a narrow platform overhung by the swollen arc of the ship’s body. A rusty ladder crawled up the ship’s side, and the guard prodded me to climb it. The cold wind tugged at me. The last sliver of sun was gliding down behind the distant hills. As I climbed, I tried not to look down at the tiny fields stitched together far below.

Reaching the top, I scrambled over a rail onto the deck. This was the biggest ship I had ever seen—complete with lifeboats, anchors, ropes piled in neat coils, and a full set of sails stiffening in the sharp breeze. A handful of sailors paused in reefing the sails to stare, as the guard, puffing after his climb, marched me over the bleached deck.

“Move it!” He shoved me down a gangway, and into a stateroom, paneled and polished so that candlelight shone back from every surface. By the table stood a man and a woman, consulting maps.

The guard cleared his throat nervously. “Excuse me, my lady? It’s that last slave we picked up. He says he’s got no magic. Thought you might like to see him before we throw him overboard.”

Lady Galera turned, frowning. She was lean and elegant, with the wide eyes and cold stare of a cat.

“No magic?” Her voice was as sharp and cold as a knife blade.

“That’s what he says.”

“All right. Leave him here. You can go.” She stalked around me coolly, a cat inspecting a captive mouse. Then, without warning, she flung her hand out at my face. I winced back, as a jolt like electricity made my skin tingle and my hair stand on end.

Lady Galera hadn’t touched me. She withdrew her hand, clenched in a fist, slowly opened it, and looked, and laughed.

“Would you believe it, Rendel? Not a spark.”

“No magic at all?” said her companion disbelievingly.

“The boy’s a freak!” It had taken her five seconds to discover what had taken the Mages a good fifteen minutes. She stalked around me again, eyes narrowed. “You were taken from Leodwych Plaza,” she said, “weren’t you? With that.” She pointed, and I saw my goosehorn propped behind the door. “Which means the school, which means magic.

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