The Magician's Sons

Chapter 1

I

t would have been black as pitch in the city if it hadn't been for the streetlamps here and there. Shop doors were locked, house windows were dark, and every little girl and boy was fast asleep in London...or perhaps not.

"Copernicus! You blithering idiot, what are you about?" a loud voice blared.

From the dusky corner of a sultry room, a ten-year-old boy gave a start at the sound. Slowly, gently, the world around him had been dimming with the soft touch of sleep. But he started awake instantly.

"I'm sorry, sir!" the lad cried.

He jolted up from a three-legged stool and ran across the room. There, a large, lean man was stooping over a huge wooden trough with his hands buried in a sludge of bread dough. The two were standing in a small baker's shop, practically baking themselves as they worked. The room was lit by a ruddy glow and boiling with heat from the fire in the brick oven.

"You worthless brat! I don't know why I keep you around! You're no good to me! Always falling asleep instead of doing your work! Never pulling your own weight or earning your keep!" the baker grumbled.

Each insult struck Copernicus's heart with a sharp pain. He swallowed hard to hold back his tears and then shoved his sleeves up to his elbows. He almost thrust his hands into the dough his master was kneading, but once again the baker's loud voice roared.

"Get out of it, you daft boy!" the man shouted, little specks of sweat and spittle flying in every direction. "Are those hands of yours clean?"

Copernicus's big eyes looked up at the man, wide with worry. Clean; that word always echoed in his mind. It seemed to be all he ever heard about from Mr. Henry Hannover.

"I promise I washed 'em! I washed 'em till there wasn't a speck of dust on 'em, sir. I promise!" he said earnestly.

"Wash 'em again!" Henry huffed, wiping his sweaty brow on his arm and throwing all of his might into his bread kneading. "And then find out where that blasted boy of mine is. Charlie!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "Where's that alum you were s'posed to bring?" He gave Copernicus a nudge with his boot to send him on his way. "Go see what's keeping him!"

The boy ran as fast as he could through an open door and into an inky-dark room. He had to feel his way to the staircase, and he practically crawled on all fours to get up the steps because there was no banister to guide him. But as he neared the top, he began to see a faint glow above him.

Under the concealing cover of the shadows, he finally let a few tears glide down his burning cheeks. He remembered a time when life hadn't been like this. He remembered days of freedom and joy when he had run around and played like any child should have. That had been a sweet, happy time, a time when Aunt May had still been his loving guardian.

He had always called May his aunt even though it hadn't been her rightful title. No one could ever keep the connection between May and the little boy straight. He had been her husband's cousin's relative, and who knew where the link had gone after that. But she had loved him as if he had been her own. She had loved him until the very end when she had been forced to bequeath the little boy to her brother, Henry Hannover, after her death. The lad had been in The Hannovers' keeping for nearly five years now.

"Charlie, didn't you hear your father calling?" Copernicus asked, hurrying to the top of the stairs. One candle cast a faint glimmer across a big storage loft. Just as Copper arrived, he saw a tall boy stow something behind a huge sack of flour.