Guardian - Stolen Magic Part 4

After they'd put distance between themselves and their pursuers, Simon slowed the pace and dismounted to lighten Shadow's burden. Later, Meg slid from the horse and insisted he take a turn riding. He protested-it seemed ungentlemanly to ride while a woman walked-but she was adamant. Given that his light shoes weren't designed for hiking and his wounded hip hurt like the devil, he appreciated the intervals on horseback.

Midnight was approaching when they entered the long, winding driveway that led up to White Manor, Lady Bethany's house. Simon had stayed there often, and the manor was a welcome sight.

Since lamps burned inside the structure, he wasn't entirely surprised when the front door of the manor was flung open and Lady Bethany swept down the steps, two servants behind her. A footman carried a torch and the other man was her head groom. "Simon, you rascal! What sort of trouble have you found for yourself?"

"Lady Beth!" He slid from the horse and bent to envelop her in a hug. "I thought you would be in London. You're a sight for weary eyes."

"I had a feeling that I should be here." She turned to Meg. "And who is this young lady?"

Meg was staring, unable to reconcile the aristocratic t.i.tle with the warm, rounded, grandmotherly reality of Lady Bethany. "This is Meg, to whom I am greatly in debt." Simon helped Meg dismount. Voice low, he added, "She is one of us, and discovered that only last night."

Lady Bethany's eyes widened. "My, child, you positively glow with power. You must have tales to tell. Where have you been hiding yourself?"

"It's a long story." Simon handed his horse's reins to the groom. "Take good care of him, Wilson. Shadow has had a hard day and deserves to be pampered."

"It will be my pleasure, my lord."

Meg looked at Simon with shock and distrust. Maybe he should have mentioned that he was an earl, but when they were running for their lives, his t.i.tle hadn't seemed relevant. Drayton must have given her a deep distaste for n.o.blemen. He hoped it wouldn't take too long to change her mind. As they ascended the stairs together, he said, "Lady Beth, did your premonition about our arrival extend to preparing food and beds?"

"Only one bedroom was prepared, but another will be ready soon," she said imperturbably. "I'l allow you time to eat before I bombard you with questions. It's fortunate for your appet.i.tes that patience comes with age."

Their hostess gave them a few minutes to wash up before they a.s.sembled in the small dining room. A steaming tureen of chicken and barley soup was accompanied by platters of cold meats and cheeses.

Meg had made an attempt to neaten her battered gown and tangled hair, but she looked tense and very young. Her unease was forgotten when the footman served supper. Having had only two currant cakes all day, she attacked her food with enthusiasm, and surprisingly refined manners. Simon was equally hungry, but when he started to serve himself a slice of roast beef, his stomach clenched. He wondered if that was an effect of having spent time as a grazing beast. Luckily the chicken in the soup didn't bother him.

True to her word, Lady Bethany gave them a chance to take the edge off their hunger before asking, "Can we speak freely in front of Meg, Simon?"

He swallowed his mouthful of soup. "Yes-she's right in the middle of this situation. Plus, she knows nothing of her heritage, and the sooner she learns, the better. Meg, would you like to tell Lady Bethany your story?"

She glanced up. "You may tell her . . . my lord."

He winced inwardly at her tone when she used the t.i.tle. "I am no different now than I was this morning."

"You may not be different, my lord, but I see you differently." Her gaze dropped to her bread and cheese.

Tersely he described Meg's life and her lack of memories of any earlier time. "But she's clearly a Guardian," he said to Lady Beth. "Do you know if any child of the Families disappeared or was stolen about ten years ago?"

His hostess shook her head. "I recall no such case. Perhaps only her father was a Guardian. Or perhaps she has wild magic."

"It's almost unknown for anyone to have wild magic of such strength." More likely, Meg had been fathered by a Guardian and was illegitimate. Guardians were seldom promiscuous because of their emotional sensitivity, but there were exceptions.

Meg asked, "What is wild magic?"

"Magical power that is found in people with no obvious magical heritage," Simon explained. "Wild magic is rare and seldom as strong as Guardian magic. It can also be unpredictably different from Guardian magic."

Meg's eyes narrowed. "What do you do with those who have wild magic? Eliminate them to prevent compet.i.tion?"

"Heavens, no, child!" Lady Bethany exclaimed. "We usually adopt them into the Guardians. The Families have gained valuable new abilities that way." She glanced at Simon. "Your last letter said you were planning to confront Drayton about his misdeeds. What went awry?"

"He turned me into a unicorn so he could slaughter me with ritual magic."

The usually imperturbable lady gasped. "Surely he would not do anything so barbaric!"

"You're an optimist, Lady Beth," Simon said dryly before he continued his story.

When he described their escape, Meg said, "We were really lucky that storm came along to wash away our tracks."

Lady Bethany's silvery brows arched. "Was it luck, Simon?"

He shook his head. "I put out a call to Duncan Macrae for help. Woke him out of a sound sleep. Fortunately, he understood what I needed and was able to locate me precisely, and the existing weather was bad enough to give him material to work with."

Meg's jaw dropped. "You can control rain and wind?"

"I can't, but my friend Duncan can. Ordinarily I wouldn't have been able to reach him where he lives in Scotland, but sometimes desperation can increase power."

Looking thoughtful, Meg returned to her meal. Simon wondered how long it would take her to adjust to a world so different from Castle Drayton. Luckily, she had a quick mind now that she was freed from thralldom. "Meg not only released me from imprisonment, but she returned me to human form. I have no idea how."

Meg shrugged. "I didn't do anything. I was only looking to see how badly you were injured. As soon as I touched the wound . . ." She struggled to find words. "It was like a lightning strike. The air became strange, twisted, and you radiated heat. I'm not sure how long that lasted, but when everything returned to normal, you were a man."

"The heat makes sense," Lady Bethany said musingly. "When you changed from a smaller to a larger form, you must have drawn energy to create a larger body. When you returned to the smaller form, you would have radiated that energy back to the world. But how did Meg's touch break the transformation spell?"

"I had an open, bleeding wound, and Meg, you had received some grazes as well. Was there an open wound on your fingers when you touched me?"

Surprised, she said, "Yes. It was small, but there was blood."

"That's the answer. This young lady glows with raw magic." Lady Bethany's brow furrowed as she looked deeper. "So much so that when her blood touched yours, the spell was broken. Or rather, suppressed for the time being."

Simon frowned. "You think that the spell might be revitalized?"

The older woman examined him with unfocused eyes. "I fear so. The magic is still around you, and this sort of spell can be broken only by the mage who created it."

His mouth tightened as she confirmed his fears. "In other words, I might turn into a unicorn again at any moment."

She looked troubled. "I think the spell is unlikely to overcome you when you're aware and s.h.i.+elded, but yes, transforming again is a real danger."

"What if I meet Drayton face-to-face?"

"Be very, very careful and keep your s.h.i.+elds at full strength."

This was not good news. "I shall have to keep you close if that happens, Meg. I found that being a unicorn was not good for mind or spirit."

Meg looked alarmed before recognizing that he wasn't serious. "Perhaps you should carry a vial of Guardian blood if you call on him again."

"That might actually work." Lady Bethany studied Meg thoughtfully. "What of you, young lady? Have you recalled more about your past?"

The girl set down her bread, expression bleak. "Nothing. The first thing I remember is the day the lord approached me in the field, laid a hand on my head, and paralyzed my will and spirit."

"Even though you have no earlier memories, are you finding anything familiar? Or unfamiliar? Do you think you grew up in a house like this one?"

Meg studied the damask-clad walls and fine furnis.h.i.+ngs before she shook her head. "No, this house is very grand and . . . and unfamiliar. Not like the castle, and not like any other place I've lived. I'm sure of that."

"Can you read and write?"

Meg hesitated. "I . . . I think so, but I didn't do either at the castle."

Lady Bethany rose and removed a slim book from a drawer in the sideboard. Handing it to Meg, she asked, "Can you read this?"

She opened the book warily, then relaxed. "Yes! It's difficult because I haven't read in so many years, but the words make sense to me."

"So you had some education."

"Her speech and manners are refined as well," Simon pointed out. "So she must have spent her childhood in a household of some substance."

"Can you help me find my family?" Meg asked, her expression hopeful. "You're mages-surely that can' t be too hard."

"With ten years gone by and no idea of where to start, finding your kin won't be easy, but we will certainly try. I promise that," Lady Bethany said. "But not tonight. You're almost asleep in your chair, Meg. Let me take you to your room. A good night's sleep makes life look more possible. Simon, I'l join you in the morning room after I've settled Meg. We have more to discuss."

An understatement of major proportions. As he watched the two women leave the dining room, he wished he could believe that Lady Bethany would have all the answers he needed. But he knew better than to believe that, even for a moment.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

Lady Bethany was right-Meg was ready to drop from fatigue. Nonetheless, she found it unnerving to leave Falconer, the only familiar person in this grand house. Though Lady Bethany had been nothing but kind, she had a degree of confidence Meg had never seen in a woman. During Meg's time in Castle Drayton, there had been few women in her life. The castle had been a coa.r.s.ely masculine place. White Manor was very different, with her ladys.h.i.+p's feminine touch visible everywhere.

At the west end of the upstairs corridor, Lady Bethany opened a door. "This will be your room. Usually I put my granddaughters here."

Meg gave a sigh of pleasure when she entered the bedchamber, which was a fluffy, pretty confection of light colors and flowered fabrics. Wanting to see more than was illuminated by the single candle, she created a ball of light. "How lovely! I'm sure I'l be comfortable here."

Lady Bethany closed the door behind them. "Where did you learn to make mage light? Did Simon show you how?"

"Not exactly." Meg attached her first light to a post at the foot of the bed, then created another, larger light. "I saw him do it, then tried it myself."

In the gentle glow of the mage lights, Lady Bethany's expression was thoughtful. "He makes creating light look easy, but it isn't. I'm impressed that you are able to do it without any lessons at all."

Meg envisioned another glowing sphere on her palm, then examined it. "The first time was a bit difficult, but now it's simple. I think of light, and here it is."

"Your innate power is truly impressive." Lady Bethany gestured at the bed. "But for now, you need rest. Here's a nightgown, and there are some garments in the wardrobe that should do until we can have more made up for you."

Meg touched the nightgown, which was of fine white cotton with delicate lace trim. She couldn't remember ever owning anything so pretty in her life. Her room at the castle had been comfortable enough, but stark, and her clothing had been sewn by a woman in the village whose main interest had been in providing rugged garments that would last well. Meg had found beauty in the forest and the animals, but not in her daily life. "I don't know how to thank you," she said in a low voice.

"What we give is yours by right. Sleep well, Meg. Everything will seem easier in the morning." Lady Bethany kissed Meg's cheek, then quietly withdrew.

Meg raised a hand to her cheek, thinking that perhaps somewhere in the forgotten part of her life, there had been a mother who had kissed her with affection. Perhaps Meg had a living family.

Praying that her memory would return so she could find her beginnings, she explored the room. The carpet was soft beneath her feet, and when she removed her muddy garments and donned the nightgown, it whispered smoothly against her skin. A pitcher full of hot water stood on the washstand. She washed her face and hands, thankful for the luxury. The comb and brush on the vanity table were backed with silver. As she brushed the knots from her hair, she began to relax. This world might be strange, but it was welcoming. Somehow, she would find a place in it.

A gla.s.s of brandy in his hand, Simon prowled the morning room restlessly, tired but unable to settle down. When he reached the fireplace, he ignited the coals with a snap of his fingers. Though the night wasn't cold, the flickering flames were comforting.

Lady Bethany returned from taking Meg to her bedroom. "Did you know your protege can conjure mage light as well as you do?"

His brows arched. "I didn't, but I'm not really surprised to hear it. When Drayton transformed me, he was drawing on a huge well of power, and most of it came from Meg. She'l probably be the fastest-learning mage in Guardian history."

"Which means she needs good training right away, before she damages herself or others." Lady Beth settled into a chair by the fireplace. "I wouldn't want her to discover how to burn the house down in her sleep. Speaking of Drayton, what do you think he wants? He must have known that he couldn't destroy you and not be punished for it. Even with Meg's power to draw on, he couldn't resist the force of the whole council."

"I wish I knew what he wants. He was stirring up trouble during the Jacobite rebellion and he seemed to be doing it indiscriminately rather than in support of the king or the Young Pretender." Simon lifted the poker from its hook and stabbed at the glowing coals. "Perhaps he feeds on pain and wants to create more of it."

"Perhaps, but I suspect that he has other goals in mind as well," Lady Beth said thoughtfully. "No Guardian has ever been a cabinet minister before; members of the Families tend to avoid such public positions. Do you suppose he craves worldly power?"

"Unquestionably." Simon a.n.a.lyzed some of the lower levels of Drayton's mind that he hadn't noticed consciously at the time. "But he wants more than power for power's sake. He has some other goal. One that is dark and twisted."

"Some s.e.xual perversion?"

He almost laughed at the incongruity between Lady Beth's question and her demure countenance. "If so, I didn't sense that in him. His interests lie elsewhere."

"Do sit down before you pace a hole in my carpet, Simon." Lady Bethany leaned back in her chair. "I shall see if I can reach him and learn something."

"Be careful." As Simon took a seat opposite his hostess, he thought of the devastation he'd experienced at Drayton's hands. "He is dangerously unpredictable."

Lady Beth ignored his warning rather than point out that she was, after all, head of the British Guardian Council and one of the most powerful sorceresses in the land. She had a particular talent for communicating across long distances, so she might be able to touch Drayton's mind better than Simon had.

"There he is, in London," she murmured. "My, what a dank, unpleasant mind. He . . ." Power surged viciously in the room. Lady Bethany made a strangled sound, then crumpled into a small heap on the carpet.

Simon leaped to his feet, swearing. Drayton had felt Lady Bethany's mind touch and was striking back. The fury Simon had suppressed since his defeat at Drayton's hands surged through him, multiplied by the rage he felt on Lady Beth's behalf. His focus narrow as a steel blade, he followed Drayton's energy back to the source and struck with all his power.

For an instant Drayton staggered under Simon's attack. Then he hit back. Simon erected a s.h.i.+eld to deflect the energy bolt, which was much weaker than the energy Drayton had commanded when he held Meg captive.

Intent on gathering his power for another strike, Simon didn't recognize that the transformation spell had been reactivated until his legs collapsed and he crashed to the floor. Searing pain blazed through him as bones lengthened and muscles were wrenched into new shapes. His vision distorted as his eyes changed, and flames streamed from the fireplace to join the burning pyre that engulfed him.

The destruction of his clothing, the change in balance and perspective, were familiar this time, and more frightening for that reason. After an endless time, the burning gradually faded and he scrambled to his feet -his hooves-again. His unicorn body felt-comfortable, and the reduced scope of his mind more natural, but he hated that he had been helpless to stop the transformation even though Drayton had been weaker than he. Grimly he controlled his fear, grateful that he was among friends who would recognize what had happened.

Two steps brought him to Lady Bethany's side. Her face was as white as her hair and he saw a bruise forming on her cheek where she'd hit the floor.

He nuzzled her gently. She didn't respond, but at least she was breathing. He nudged her again. Nothing. He supposed he could use his teeth to tug on the bell rope to summon a servant, but what would a servant make of a unicorn in the morning room and the lady of the house unconscious?

On impulse, he lowered his head and laid his horn against her cheek. Her eyes flickered open at the first touch. After a blink of surprise, she focused her gaze on him. "I see that Drayton was able to invoke the spell again."

Simon opened his mouth to reply and only succeeded in breathing warm air onto Lady Beth's face. She gave a shaky laugh and pushed herself to a sitting position. "Can you understand what I'm saying? If so, tap your right . . . hoof once."

It took him a moment to recall the difference between right and left, but after he had that straight in his mind, he tapped the carpet.

"Good." Moving slowly, Lady Bethany attempted to stand. Seeing that she was having trouble, Simon bit into the neck of her gown and lifted.

"Thank you, Simon." When she was on her feet again, she smoothed out her rumpled gown. "Even as a unicorn, you are a gentleman. Do you mind if I touch your horn? Tap twice if you don't want me to."