Prospero Lost: Prospero's Daughter, Book I by L. Jagi Lamplighter Read Free Book Online

Mab’s place, it occurred to me, I would not wish to die.
    Blowing sharply on the flute as if it were a whistle, I recalled the Aerie Ones to me. The desires of Mab’s spirit united with those of his flesh, and he leapt toward the safety of the heavy stone thrones.
    With a deafening bang, the star spark exploded into a bloom of fireworks. Mab flew toward me, silhouetted by dazzling red-and-gold light. He plummeted down upon me, and we clutched each other until the brightness dimmed. For a moment, all was silent, except for the ringing in my ears. Then, came the terrible sound of stone grinding against stone, followed by an ear-rending crash. The hall shook.
    “Mab?” I whispered, when the shaking finally ended.
    “Here, Ma’am . . . Thanks to you,” he replied. “Are you whole?”
    “Yes.” I rose and regarded the Great Hall. “Oh my, Mab, oh my!”
    Large chunks of red stone lay about the hall. Above, clouds sailed across a blue sky. To the left, flickering tongues of flame licked at the gaping hole in what had once been the wall between the Great Hall and the library. The air was thick with rock dust.
    “Mab! The library’s on fire!” I cried, “Father’s books!”
    “Let ’em burn. About time we got rid of them,” Mab growled from where he rose to his feet, rubbing his shoulder.
    “Some of those volumes are bound with the Seal of Solomon. Who knows what might escape if the seals break!”
    “Merciful Setebos!” Mab leapt up, bellowing for the rest of the household to attend him.
    My flute had come through the disaster intact. Raising it to my lips, I played a favorite passage from
The Rite of Spring
. The music soared and moaned, echoing my shock and sorrow and yet lifting me above it. Overhead, clouds gathered rapidly, and a downpour quickly quenched the flames. Once the fire was out, I switched to a pastoral movement from Beethoven’s Sixth. Its gentle soothing strains dispersed the clouds, allowing the early winter sun to shine upon the damp library.
    By this time, Ariel had arrived to direct the clean-up effort. Dry books were moved to the far side of the library; damp ones hurried off to thebindery. It pained my heart to see six-hundred-year-old volumes drip with water, but better damp books than burnt ones.
     
    THE sky was growing dark, and the first stars of the evening could be seen above the Great Hall. The steady drip-drip of water, still falling from the edges of the rent, echoed throughout the hall, pattering down upon the great chunks of red stone scattered across the floor. This hall had stood remarkably unchanged, despite its several moves, for over five hundred years. Seeing it thus nearly moved me to tears.
    The biggest question on my mind, however, was: how had the demon breached Father’s wards? We had fought supernatural monstrosities, even—upon a rare occasion—demons, for half a millennium, but none of them had ever attacked us in Father’s house. It was a safe refuge, inviolate! To have an intruder, and an infernal one at that, break into my house and violate our refuge made me feel simultaneously helpless and furious.
    Worse, why had the demon been able to use Gregor’s staff? And why was the staff not in Elgin, Illinois, in my brother’s grave?
    I made my way across the rock-strewn floor, splashing through puddles as I walked. About halfway down the hall, I found Mab sitting on a chunk of broken stone. Water sluiced off his trench coat. He held his wet hat in his hand.
    “Ma’am,” he said wearily, “I realize you will not listen to me, but I’d like to respectfully suggest you get away from this house. You’re not safe here. The perpetrator could return any time.”
    “Are you all right, Mab?” I asked, ignoring him.
    “Yeah. I’m all right,” Mab rubbed his shoulder. “If you won’t flee, Ma’am, may I, at least, have your permission to refresh the wards that protect the house, so this won’t happen again?”
    “Of course!” I paused. “Thank