The breaking and crashing sounds stopped, and the mob moved closer. Henry released Rollo and me and picked up the shotgun. I held my breath as the riot reached the Lyndon house. Henry had said the house was warded, but surely the other magisters warded their homes and yet they had been damaged. There was a metallic sound as Henry chambered a round, then he held the gun at the ready. “Verity, shut the door. Rollo, help her move the piano in front of it.”

Olive moved from me to her uncle as Rollo and I obeyed Henry’s commands. When we returned to the window, the riot was clearly visible, right in front of the house. In the poor lighting, I couldn’t make out any faces that I recognized, but some of the rioters were dressed in the Mechanics’ distinct style. Others looked like slum residents, but I couldn’t tell if that’s who they really were or if these were costumes like Lizzie and Colin had worn when confronting the general.

The leading edge of the mob had now passed our front walk, and they kept going. Someone threw something over the fence into the front garden, but there was no flame or sound of breaking glass. The next time we heard sounds of violence, it was from the neighboring house. The mob had completely passed us by.

It was a long time before we stirred from our spot in front of the window. When the mob was out of sight, Henry put down his gun and pulled us all to him again in a big hug. This time, his hand was lower on my back, at the curve of my waist. In that proximity, I could feel him trembling.

When we could no longer hear the mob or the sound of their violence, he gave a deep sigh, as though releasing a breath he’d been holding a long time, and said, “We should be safe now.”

“But why didn’t they hurt our house?” Olive asked.

He released his hold on me to reach down and ruffle her hair. “Probably because they know you live here, Olive. No one could hurt anyone as sweet as you.” But he looked at me when he said it, frowning as though he didn’t understand either.

“They probably couldn’t get through our wards, right, Uncle Henry?” Rollo said.

“But wouldn’t the others have wards, too?” I asked.

“A lot of these people don’t know the magic to create them. There’s no automated technology for that.” Lord Henry’s tone said exactly what he thought of magical people who didn’t know how to perform magic.

“You’re going to teach us to make wards, aren’t you, Uncle Henry?” Rollo asked.

“That’s very advanced magic. You’ll learn it someday, but there is much you need to learn first.”