Guardian - Stolen Magic Part 27

"Poor Megan," Emma crooned, rocking Meg in her arms as if she were the younger sister. "Why did he steal both of us?"

There would be time to rage against fate later. Now she needed to explain their situation to her sister- her sister!-so that Emma would understand. Then they could plan how to escape. "Some people have the ability to perform magic-to do strange and wonderful things. When Drayton found that I had that ability, he kidnapped me and kept me at his family seat, Castle Drayton. It was perhaps half a day's ride from Lydbury. He probably hoped that someone else in the family was similarly talented, so he kept an eye on us until he was knew you were worth abducting."

Emma stared at her as if she were mad. "Magic? Did that man scramble your wits?"

"He dulled my mind, but he didn't scramble it." Meg reached up to the mage light and detached it from the wall, then offered it to her sister. "Drayton's wicked spells have suppressed most of my magic just now, but I was able to make this mage light."

Emma gasped as the light tingled on her palm. "Magic is mere superst.i.tion-and yet, here it is." She fluttered the fingers of her other hand through the light. "What else can magic do?"

Meg turned on the bed and leaned against the wall. "This will take a long time. Let me tell you about the Guardians. . . ."

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO.

David gasped when he entered the Brentford Abbey chapel. He had expected a smaller, plainer structure, like the Dissenter chapel where he wors.h.i.+pped. As he gazed at carved stone pillars and stained gla.s.s that wouldn't have looked out of place in a cathedral, he said, " 'Tis surely sacrilege to bring my engine in here!"

His guide, a rather grand fellow named c.o.x who seemed to be in charge of organizing the technology forum, said coolly, "My lord Drayton chose this as the exhibition hall because it's the largest s.p.a.ce on the abbey grounds." His tone made it clear that his lords.h.i.+p's wishes were law. His glance made it equally clear that he was pained by the fact that inventors were not usually gentlemen of refinement.

David surveyed the broad, echoing s.p.a.ce. Even though he didn't approve of popish customs, he had to admit it would have been a rare treat to hear monks singing their prayers here in the old days. "Where should I set up?"

"Down here." c.o.x led the way to the sanctuary at the head of the church, pa.s.sing intriguing pieces of equipment and knots of men who worked on them. "If you need help moving your equipment, there are laborers ready to a.s.sist."

The spot c.o.x indicated was right where the high altar had once been. Even though this was no longer a real church, David offered a silent prayer of apology as he studied the other exhibits. He itched for a closer look, but first he must a.s.semble his engine and make sure it was in working condition. It would be humiliating to fail when he had such an opportunity to prove what he could do.

With the help of Peter and several estate laborers, the sections of the engine were loaded onto a low cart and hauled into the chapel. Rea.s.sembling the engine was sweaty, dirty work. While Peter arranged for supplies of water and coal, David checked and rechecked every component to make sure there had been no damage in transit. Around him were voices with accents from all over Britain, along with banging and clanks as machinery was a.s.sembled. No shortage of curses, either.

Peter filled the firebox with fuel, then lit the coals so the boiler could begin heating. When David stepped back from the engine to wipe the sweat from his face, he realized that he had an audience. An expensively-dressed youth nodded to him. "It appears that your engine has two power strokes, both up and down. Is that correct?"

"Aye, so it is."

Another man said, "Using the piston to control the steam and exhaust is brilliant."

"Thank you." The sharp minds around him made David glad that Falconer had already obtained patents on the designs. "I think it's a good engine."

The youth studied the engine with narrowed eyes. "I'm interested in building ca.n.a.ls to carry coal from my mines to Manchester and Salford, where it is needed. Can your engine raise water from deeper shafts than the Newcomen engine?"

"Aye, though I'l have to install one in a mine to be sure how much deeper. My guess is that it will lift water maybe twice as high as the Newcomen engine."

A grizzled man with a Lancas.h.i.+re accent asked, "Have you thought about converting your engine to rotary motion? 'Twould be more useful for us in the textile business."

"I'm working on that now." David glanced the length of the nave. "It looks like there are several kinds of textile equipment here."

"I've brought my new carding machine," another fellow with a Northern accent said. "It will revolutionize the cloth trade."

"If it works," another man said with a touch of malice.

Not wanting to encourage hostility, David said, "I'd like to see what others have invented. That machine there is for spinning, isn't it?"

"So 'tis," the grizzled man said. "I've improved the flyer and bobbin system, so this is the best spinning machine made. Take a look while your boiler is heating."

David followed him, heady with excitement. This was what he'd hoped for-the exchange of ideas by men like him-men with ideas, and no fear of getting their hands dirty. Sarah had been right to stay home -it was not the right atmosphere for a lady. But he would remember everything so he could tell her about it later.

Meg woke when she heard a key turn in the lock. Where . . . ?

Oh, yes, she was in Drayton House, partially enthralled, and sharing a very narrow bed with her younger sister. The joy of having regained her lost life almost made up for the rest.

She had given Emma an overview about magic and the Guardians before they fell into exhausted sleep, curled up against each other like kittens. Her sister had been wide-eyed and somewhat doubtful, but the evidence of the mage light made her willing to accept the possibility that Meg was right, not mad.

The mage light! Drayton mustn't know that she could still do some magic. Swiftly Meg dowsed her light.

But it wasn't Drayton who entered. Two footmen came in, one carrying a tray of food and the other, Boxley, watching the girls suspiciously. Meg looked as dull and helpless as possible, which wasn't hard. If she and Emma were to escape, it would be through guile and magic, not physical force.

The tray was set on the table, then both men withdrew, watching the captives warily. As the key turned in the lock, Emma sat up and covered a yawn with one hand. "When we were small, we shared a bed," she said drowsily. "But it was bigger."

"And we were smaller. No matter. We won't be here long." Meg hoped that was true, since the bed was not built for two. It was barely built for one. Feeling stiff, she rose and investigated the tray. There were two plates of food containing boiled potatoes and onions and a two-inch piece of sausage, plus a small jug of ale and two pears. The sun was low in the sky and the room full of shadows, so she created another mage light to improve the illumination. It was a little easier this time.

"Can I make light, too?" Emma asked.

"I'm sure you could, but Lord Drayton has locked up the part of you that can do magic." Meg took one of the plates and a fork to her sister. "It will need to be unlocked before you can start working with power."

Emma balanced the plate on her lap and took a bite. "But you can make light even though you say he has bespelled you."

"The spell hasn't fully worked on me this time, I think because I'm stronger now." Meg poured two mugs of ale, thinking how quickly she had become accustomed to using magic. It was part of her, and she felt crippled now. "If I had my full power, I could have knocked both of those men down so we could escape. Instead, I can only do very small magics." She handed her sister a mug, then started on her own supper. The food was cold from being carried so far, but the quality was decent. She guessed it was what the servants ate.

"This talk of magic is hard to believe, but I know you wouldn't lie to me." Emma swallowed the last bit of sausage, then crossed the room to put her plate back on the tray. She was almost as tall as Meg, but her slight figure had barely begun to fill out. "I feel safe now that you're here."

Such faith was humbling, and even perhaps justified. Emma was mentally much sharper than the Brentford thralls had been at first, and surely that was a result of Meg's work on the binding spells. Simon was needed to fully free her sister, though.

Her heart constricted. Mustn't think of Simon or she would not be able to function. She tossed one of the pears to her sister. "Now that we've eaten, it's time to think about escape. I'm going to spend some time mentally investigating the house, so you get more rest."

Emma nodded obediently as she resumed sitting on the bed, but she kept her gaze fixed on Meg. It had been like that when they were children-Emma had been her shadow, and the dearest little girl in the world. No wonder Meg had felt such a compulsion to release Drayton's final thrall. On some level, she had recognized her little sister. Just as her presence benefited Emma, Emma's presence was surely making Meg sharper and more focused. She had a sister to protect.

Meg settled as comfortably as possible in the wooden chair, then closed her eyes and cleared her mind. The only area she could reach was within the wards. The effect was odd, like being trapped in a barrel.

The good news was that Drayton wasn't in the house. Probably he had gone out to Brentford Abbey for his forum. The farther away he was, the better.

Not so good was the fact that there were at least six servants in the house, possibly more. Several had rooms on the ground floor, near the kitchen, and two or three more lodged up here in the attic.

If she could manage a don't-look spell, it would help them sneak out of the house. She cleared her mind and tried to invoke the spell. As with the mage light, the level of effort was enormous.

"Meg. Meg! Where are you!" Emma's voice was frantic.

Apparently the spell worked. Meg released it and jumped to her feet. "It's all right, Emma, I'm right here." She crossed to the bed and caught her sister's hands. "I was practicing a spell that might help us escape."

Emma's fingers bit into Meg's hands. "I was afraid I had dreamed you!"

"I'm real, and I won't leave without you." Meg looked into her little sister's blue eyes, remembering that the vivid color came from their mother. The boys, Harry and Winthrop, had those blue eyes, too. Only Meg had her father's dreamy gray green color.

Emma c.o.c.ked her head to one side, a characteristic even when she was little. "How did you make yourself vanish?"

"I didn't. The don't-look spell makes people not want to look in your direction, but you aren't invisible. A number of things can make the spell ineffective. But it's useful, and easy enough that almost anyone with magic can do one."

Emma frowned. "I found myself looking everywhere except the chair. How odd. If this is magic, it will be most interesting to study."

"The most interesting subject in the world. Now let me go back to thinking about escape." Meg returned to her chair. Would the don't-look spell work on the footmen? Perhaps she could make them think she and Emma had vanished. Then the two of them could slip out the door while the footmen were looking under the bed.

But the room was so small that it would be very difficult to leave without brus.h.i.+ng by the guards, and if that happened, the spell would no longer be effective. Perhaps Meg could use the spell, then brain the footmen with the chair or chamber pot? That might work if only one man came, but not for two.

The key. It was light and it hung just outside the door. Did Meg have enough magic to lift it from its nail, then pull it under the ill-fitting door? Moving a physical object took a great deal of energy.

Definitely worth trying. Meg concentrated on the key, wis.h.i.+ng that she had noticed it more clearly when she was brought to this room. The top was curly. . . .

Concentrating till her head hurt, she reached the key and tugged at it. She felt it swing back and forth on the nail, but maddeningly, the key wouldn't come off.

A hand came to rest on her shoulder. Emma had been drawn by instinct to help. Meg covered her sister' s hand with her own and tried again.

A clink sounded outside the room as the key jumped from the nail and onto the wooden floor. "Thank heaven!" Meg rubbed her head, which felt as if it were bound in fire. "Thank you, Emma. You were able to lend me enough energy to take the key from the hook outside. After I've rested a few minutes, I'l see if I can get it into the room."

Emma dipped one end of a worn towel into the water pitcher, then patted Meg's temples. The cool moisture was soothing. "You look ready to drop."

Meg closed her eyes, enjoying her sister's attention. "Thank you, Emma. I feel much better." In those long ago days in Lydbury, there had always been a link between the two of them. Meg hadn't recognized it as magic. Sometimes she had been exasperated at how little Emma was always tagging along, but now she recognized that they shared an uncommon bond.

Meg turned and stared at the crack under the door. The key was only a few inches away. Come here, little key. Come to me. . . .

Sc.r.a.ping erratically, the key jerked into the room. Eyes wide, Emma scooped it up. "You did it! You really can do magic!" She gazed at her sister adoringly.

"You will be able to also, though perhaps not exactly the same kinds of magic." Meg took the key from her sister and turned it in the lock. It moved easily and the door opened a crack to reveal the empty hall. To think that Meg had thought the ability to move small objects was a useless trick!

When Emma moved toward the door, Meg closed and locked it again. "We won't leave now. Better to wait until the middle of the night, when the servants are asleep."

"What if someone who sleeps up here notices that the key is missing?"

"I hadn't thought of that! I'l put a don't-look spell on the nail outside so no one will notice." Meg did so, thinking wryly that Emma's mind was in better shape than her own. "Now I'm ready for some sleep."

Feeling as if she had run ten miles, she lurched to the bed and folded onto it. Emma patted Meg's temples with the moist towel again. "I wish I had lavender water."

"This is good enough," Meg murmured. "I'm so glad to have found you, Emma. For ten years, I felt as if I had no family. I felt so alone."

"You aren't alone now. When you come home to Lydbury, you'l have a welcome that will outs.h.i.+ne what we'd give the king himself." Emma used the dry end of the towel to blot excess moisture. "I didn't notice at first, but your gown is very lovely. You look like a grand lady."

Meg's eyes drifted shut. "The Guardians took very good care of me." Today she didn't have the energy to explain how she had become a pretend countess. . . .

Simon was finis.h.i.+ng his preparations to leave for Lady Bethany's house in Richmond, then on to Brentford Abbey, when his butler entered the room. "My lord, there is a Mrs. White here to see you. She seems quite . . . overwrought."

David's wife? Wondering what had happened, Simon descended to the small reception room where Hardwick had put the visitor.

Sarah White rose at his entrance, her expression strained. "I'm sorry to disturb you, my lord, but I . . . I' m worried about my husband."

"Good day, Mrs. White. What has you worried?" Simon waved her back to her seat and took the opposite chair. "Is your husband ill? I had thought you planned to go to the forum at Brentford Abbey together."

"That was the intention, but I decided to stay home. I told David I didn't like being around Lord Drayton, but that was . . . less than the truth." She bit her lip. "His lords.h.i.+p terrifies me. I've been having nightmares about him, but they were very vague until this afternoon, when I was napping. This time I saw Lord Drayton k . . . killing my David." She began to cry. "It's surely just the foolish fancy of a woman who is increasing, but it was so real! Please, my lord . . ." Gulping for breath, she managed to ask, "Why would anyone want to murder my husband, who has never harmed a soul in his life?"

Her reddened eyes begged for him to tell her that it was just a bad dream, but he couldn't. Sarah White had a spark of clairvoyance, he guessed, and the ability had been triggered by a threat to the one she loved most. "Lord Drayton is not a good man, Mrs. White, but I can't imagine why he might want to kill your husband. How did he do it-with a sword or a gun?"

She shook her head. "It was one of those strange dream images. Drayton waved his hand and David collapsed. I knew it was a death blow. Dream logic. Or illogic."

Would David White do something to infuriate Drayton? Or was this only a nightmare, inspired by his wife 's well-justified suspicions? Intuition suggested that the danger was real-Meg had also been concerned about David's future. "I was already planning to attend the forum incognito. I will look out for your husband as best I can."

"Incognito?" she asked with surprise.

"There is bad blood between Drayton and me." An understatement of ma.s.sive proportions. "I'm

interested in his forum, but prefer not to attend as myself.""Thank you so much. I know I'm being unreasonable, but it makes me feel much better to know you'l be there." She stood and tried to smile. "Thank you also for . . . for taking me seriously, my lord."

"Any man who didn't would be a fool, Mrs. White."She inclined her head gratefully before heading for the door. He frowned. "How did you get here?""I hired a sedan chair." Her smile turned wry. "With the money you're advancing David. I'l take a chair

back."

"It's late and it might be hard to get a safe ride back to your neighborhood. I'l send you in a carriage."He hesitated. "Do you have a friend you can stay with? I don't think you should be alone.""The other women in the neighborhood have been very kind to me, like sisters and aunts. There is a neighbor who would be willing to take me in, I think.""Good. I shall feel better knowing you are among friends.""You really do care, don't you?" she said quietly. "Your wife is a lucky woman."If he could persuade Meg of that, maybe she would be his wife in truth.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE.

An hour or so after dark, two pairs of heavy feet came up the stairs to the attic and went to different rooms. Meg guessed that it was the two footmen who had delivered their meal. She and Emma rested silently in the darkness until Meg thought the servants were asleep. If she had her full power, she could have been sure, but now she suffered from a lack of magical clarity as well as diminished power.

It was time. She climbed from the bed and created a bubble of her mage light that turned inward around each of them. "This light can't be seen by others but it will help you see your way. I'l have a don't-look spell on us as well. When we reach the front door, we'l need to stop so I can cut your connection to the house wards. Otherwise I don't think we can leave without being hurt."

"Would it be easier to do that here?"

Meg was tempted, but she shook her head. "Someone in the house might have enough talent to feel when the wards go down. Drayton almost certainly will know, and even miles away, he might be able to cause trouble. It's safer to leave this till the last possible moment."