He went and stood behind the chair, pulling it out a little. Aronzo slowly removed his hand. Clariel hesitated, then walked over and sat down, pulling the chair in herself before Dyrell could push it in from the back. Bel went to the sixth chair, leaving a gap after Denima, so he was next to Aronzo but on the right side, in the position of lowest precedence.

‘Please,’ sighed Dyrell, raising his eyebrows. Bel laughed and moved across one seat so there was no gap.

‘Now that everyone is correctly seated,’ said Dyrell, ‘we may begin the service of tea. Lord Belatiel, you will light the burner; Lady Denima lift the kettle; Lady Yaneem pass around the cups; Lady Clariel, you will measure the tea in the pot, three spoons; and then when the kettle boils, Lord Aronzo, you will fill the pot.’

‘What is the point of all this?’ asked Clariel.

‘The point? It is a ceremony, to quiet the mind, before conversation; and like all such ceremonies, is best done properly or not at all,’ replied Dyrell, his voice unable to hide his agitation.

‘Best go along,’ whispered Bel to Clariel, across Aronzo. ‘It’s quicker that way.’

As he spoke, he reached and began to sketch a Charter mark at the top of the wick of the spirit burner, only to be interrupted by a screech from Dyrell.

‘No, no, Lord Belatiel! The friction lights! Only a servant uses magic!’

chapter six

tea and arguments

‘Really?’ asked Clariel. ‘I thought that couldn’t possibly be true.’

‘Magic is tiresome and menial. It is work that only befits a servant,’ said Aronzo, pushing the metal box of friction lights to Belatiel. ‘Or a rat-catcher.’

‘Please do be explicit, Aronzo,’ said Belatiel sweetly. ‘Are you saying that the Abhorsens are rat-catchers?’

‘Would I insult such an … ancient and illustrious … family?’ asked Aronzo. ‘I was merely thinking of an old rat-catcher who used magic to herd rats to their … death.’

‘My lords!’ exclaimed Dyrell. ‘Please! Be civil, let us get on with the tea service, there is not much time remaining in this lesson.’

Bel shrugged, took out a bright-yellow-headed friction light and struck it on the table. It lit instantly, spewing white smoke that smelled strongly of phosphorus and sulphur. Bel applied it to the wick of the spirit burner, then opened the other side of the box and dowsed the friction light in the black sand that filled it, before laying the burned-out stick on the table next to the burner.

Denima immediately put the kettle on the trivet above the burner, and adjusted the wick so that it would heat the water more swiftly. Before she had finished Yaneem was passing around the cups and saucers, very deftly balancing two at a time.