It opened its mouth and hissed something at them, the sound like rusted metal trying to speak softly.
Sophie had no idea if the language it was attempting was Illvyan or not. She was so astonished by the sight of it that she couldn’t think at all.
The creature hissed again and then turned and roared over its shoulder before stalking off.
“Wh-what was that?” Sophie asked.
“Unless I’m very much mistaken, that was a demon.” Cameron looked at her, shaking his head. She didn’t know if he was as surprised as she was or warning her not to talk.
“‘Familiaris sanctii’ is the proper term,” came an accented voice from the doorway. Sophie and Cameron both focused back on the doorway. A young man with near-white wildly curly hair stood framed in the light spilling out of the doorway. He, too, wore black, a robe over shirt and trousers. There was a young—judging by the size—crow perched on each of his shoulders. One of them cawed loudly and then launched itself into the air, circling Sophie.
“Tok,” said the man. “No. Silly fam.” He clicked his fingers sharply, and the bird came back to rest on his shoulder. “Forgive him. He is young. Almost ready to find his master. It makes him extra curious.” He peered down at them. “Belarus said you are Anglion. What do you want?”
Belarus, Sophie assumed, was the demon. And if he knew they were Anglion, that explained why the man was speaking that language to them rather than Illvyan. She opened her mouth, trying to remember what Chloe had told them to say.
“We’re here to see the master,” Cameron said, beating her to it.
“What business do you have with Venable Matin?” the doorkeeper asked.
“Personal business,” Cameron said shortly. “So unless you can tell me that he shares such things with you, I will keep it for him.”
The man looked faintly chagrined and nodded vigorously, which made the crows caw again. Sophie rather thought the one called Tok was watching her. She’d never been so close to a crow before. Some of the ladies in the court kept tiny bright songbirds but nothing as large as a crow. Its gaze was unsettlingly intelligent.
“I will go and convey that you are here. You may come in and wait, but please do not leave the hallway. Our house is not . . . safe . . . for strangers.”
Sophie had no desire to go into the house at all, let alone explore its depths, so she didn’t think following his instructions would be a problem. She walked up the steps, Cameron right behind her, and stepped over the threshold.
The room they entered—more like a foyer really—wasn’t overly large. There were doors in the wall to the right and left, whereas the rear wall was taken up by a large white marble staircase.
“Wait,” the white-haired young man repeated. He turned and walked quickly up the stairs, then turned to take the next flight, the sound of his steps echoing over their heads.
“Can I ask again exactly where we are?” Sophie asked Cameron.
“The Rookery,” he repeated. “It’s where they train their wizards.”
“Oh.” There didn’t seem to be much more to say. She’d grown up being taught that Illvyan wizards were monsters who would slay Anglions on sight with their demon sanctii. So far that hadn’t happened. Apparently, Chloe had told them the truth. At least, so far it seemed to be true. So Sophie would try to stay calm.
Soon enough steps sounded on the stairs above them—fortunately, no more demons had appeared—and the young man appeared, a crow flying before him. This time it landed on Sophie’s shoulder, making her jump. It was surprisingly heavy and the claws surprisingly sharp, digging into her shoulder through her cloak. She stifled the urge to shoo it away. For all she knew, it could be a demon, too.
“Tok,” the young man said, sounding exasperated. The crow cawed at him. The man shook his head and turned his gaze to Sophie. “The master will see you.” He looked somewhat surprised by his own announcement. “Follow me, if you please.” He looked at the crow, opened his mouth, and then shrugged. “It may be easier to leave him there, madame. He’s stubborn, that one.”
Sophie nodded and reached for Cameron’s hand. They ascended the stairs behind their odd escort, climbing four flights before being led down a short hallway to a double set of doors. The crow didn’t leave her shoulder, just squawked in her ear and rustled its feathers when she stopped walking. The young man knocked and then opened the doors, ushering them in with a gesture. He clucked to the crow as Sophie passed him. It looked at the door and then at him, then left her shoulder to flutter to his.
Did that mean that whoever was inside was someone even crows were afraid of? She tightened her grip around Cameron’s hand as they walked through the doors.
A gray-haired man stood by a fireplace on the far side of the room, a book in one hand. He turned as they entered and put the book down on the mantel. He crossed the room, the black robes around his shoulders billowing behind him, glinting odd colors to Sophie’s eyes. His close-trimmed beard was as gray as his hair.
As he got near to them, he stopped. Tilted his head. Studied them a moment with pale blue eyes. “Well,” he said in fairly unaccented Anglion. “It’s not every day a royal witch and a battle mage come to call. To whom do I owe the pleasure?”
“To your daughter,” Sophie managed.
His brows rose, expression darkening, body stiffening. “Oh? What proof do you offer of that?”
Sophie looked at Cameron, who shrugged and reeled off the Illvyan phrase Chloe had taught him, speaking too fast for Sophie to follow.
The man relaxed slightly. “I see. And who do I have the pleasure of addressing?”
“My name is Sophia Mackenzie,” Sophie said. “This is my husband, Cameron. We seek asylum, sir.”
“Ah. Lord and Lady Scardale. How interesting.” He smiled at her. “But I forget my manners, Madame Mackenzie.” He paused, then swept her a grand bow. “My name is Henri Matin. I am master here at the Academe. Welcome to Illvya.”
Read on for a sample from