Guardian - Stolen Magic Part 24

"Where did I fit into his plans?" Meg asked. "And the girl enthralled in London?"

"I'm not sure, but you and the London girl are the most powerful of his captives. Earth energy is immensely difficult to control-that's why it's almost never used. Perhaps he planned on augmenting his own power with that of you and the London girl to give him the strength to channel the power of the ley lines into the Brentford thralls."

"I start to see how many men could be lightly enthralled," Moses said, his brow furrowing. "When Drayton was in my mind, he tried to . . . to shape my thoughts. Or not exactly my thoughts. Rather, my magic. Though I was unaware of it before, now that power is a presence within me. If the energy I used to strike the five pursuers last night was spun fine, like a web, and thrown broadly . . ."

"It is fortunate that we are away," Lily said with a shudder. "You could do too much damage."

Moses nodded. After collecting the glances of his three fellows, he spoke for them all. "Very well, we shall stay here and learn to use our magic so we may help destroy our enemy. Thus shall we discharge our debt to you."

"In return, I pledge that we will help you achieve your goals when the crisis is past," Simon promised. "Think about how you want to use your freedom."

"I'm glad that's settled." Lady Bethany rose. "It has been a tiring morning. Let us adjourn to the dining room and rebuild our strength." She smiled at her four new guests. "I promised that you will be impressed by what my cook can do. I believe that ginger cakes were being planned. With lemon sauce."

Expressions brighter, the former thralls left, ushered by Jean and Lady Bethany. Simon lingered. Meg stayed also. When they were private, they turned to each other and embraced. She gave a little sigh as she settled against him. "You look tired."

"I've learned that freeing thralls requires great concentration." He rested his chin on her soft hair, thinking how right it felt to hold her. "Did you see the web of connections between them?" When she nodded, he continued, "I'm wondering if those were deliberately forged by Drayton, and if so, do they represent any danger? The threads seemed to be as unbreakable as the connections to him, but perhaps they could be severed if necessary."

Meg thought about it as she rested her head on his shoulder. "I think he might have encouraged the connections for his own purposes, but that doesn't mean they are inherently bad. I felt no darkness in those threads. Only strength and mutual kindness."

"I felt the same." He tightened his hug. "The forum begins in a week. If Drayton is going to try to get them back, he will have to work quickly. With Lady Bethany's permission, perhaps Duncan and Gwynne should move out here for a week or two. They could help with the teaching, and their power added to Lady Beth and Jean should make this house impregnable."

"That's a good idea." She made a face. "Until then, perhaps I should stay here, too. Jean and Lady Beth will need help."

"Staying would be best," he said reluctantly, trying not to think how good it had been to hold her in his arms the night before. "Though I prefer being under the same roof with you, we must be practical and I need to be back in the city." He kissed her forehead, knowing it would be a mistake to do more. "In afortnight, this should all be over.""And I'l finally be free to find my family."

"May I go with you and help in the search?""Do you mean that?" she said with delight. "I would love to have your aid." Her voice became husky."And your company, as we celebrate our victory over Drayton."

He wished he could guarantee that victory. But he couldn't escape the knowledge that the scales wereclosely balanced, and could tip either way.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.

Mr. White?"

David jerked in surprise, banging the back of his head on the beam of his model engine. Rubbing the b.u.mp, he straightened to see Lord Drayton, as soft-footed and vaguely sinister as on his previous visit. Sarah stood several steps behind him, a basket in hand. She gave David an apologetic look for not being able to give more warning.

David set down his wrench and wiped his hands with a rag. "Good day, my lord. I was not expecting you, or I would have been better prepared."

"Then I would not have the opportunity to see you at work," Drayton pointed out. "Is your engine ready for transport to Brentford Abbey? My forum begins in five days."

"I need to make some adjustments to the condenser and the regulator, but it will be ready the day after tomorrow, as I promised. That will give me a day to install the engine and fix anything that might be damaged in transport." Mentally he crossed his fingers that the regulator would hold up to what would be demanded of it. In the future he would hire a machinist to make a more rugged model, but there hadn't been time.

"You are a careful man. I respect that." Drayton studied the engine with narrowed eyes. "Will you grant me a demonstration?"

"It will be my pleasure, sir." David signaled his a.s.sistant to add more coal to the embers in the firebox. The fuel flared, raising the temperature of the water in the boiler.

Building the engine had meant backbreaking work for him and Peter Nicholson, and many late meals delivered to the workshop by a tolerant Sarah. Though the theory was sound, actually making an engine work meant trial and error and a fair amount of bashing metal with hammer or wrench.

But the result was worth all the long nights and injured knuckles: his new engine was significantly more efficient than Newcomen's. Mine owners were desperate for better engines to pump water from their mines, and exhibiting his model at Drayton's forum would spread the word of his invention throughout Britain. Orders would flood in, he was sure of it. After David perfected the manufacturing process, Lord Falconer could manage the business while David worked on new inventions. He and Sarah would be able to raise their child with the advantages they had lacked. It was a heady prospect.

Soon the beam was pumping noisily away, a promise of energy for the burgeoning manufacturers of Britain. Drayton watched, face expressionless. "You are talented indeed, Mr. White," he said in a voice pitched to be heard above the clamor. "To be honest, I didn't think you would finish in time for my forum, but I wished to include you if at all possible. Your engine will be one of the important devices exhibited."

The words were satisfying, but Drayton's flat delivery was disconcerting. David thought it was almost as if his lordship resented the engine. Maybe he had wanted to be an inventor himself but lacked the ability or the patience? More likely, the man didn't have the time invention required. David had only a vague idea of what was involved in being a government minister, but the work was surely demanding.

Drayton gave a final nod of approval. "The wagon to transport your engine to Brentford Abbey will arrive first thing in the morning the day after tomorrow and the journey can be accomplished in one day. I imagine you will accompany it?"

"Yes, sir." David disliked leaving Sarah overnight, but once the engine was properly installed, he'd return to London for her. "I forgot to say that the engine should be set on a stone floor because of the weight and power. Do you have such a place?"

Drayton smiled with real amus.e.m.e.nt. "Indeed I do. The original chapel of the abbey will be the exhibition hall. The whole building is of stone, so it will provide a firm foundation for your engine and other devices being displayed."

Even though he wasn't Church of England, David was taken aback. "A chapel, sir? That sounds like . . . like sacrilege."

"On the contrary, it's most appropriate." Drayton stared at the still-pumping engine. "In the future, such machines will be worshipped by the common man."

"I would hope not," David said uncertainly. " 'Tis just a machine, not the Deity."

Drayton turned from the engine with a cool smile. "I merely jested. The chapel has not been used for worship for many years. I chose it as the exhibition hall because of the s.p.a.ce and the solid stone floor." He nodded his head. "Give you good day, Mr. White, Mrs. White. I shall see you at Brentford Abbey."

David murmured a proper farewell, but privately he was glad to see the lord leave. A strange bird was old Drayton. Falconer was also strange in his way, but he was a more comfortable man to have around.

When Drayton was gone, Sarah crossed the shop and set her basket on a clear s.p.a.ce on the workbench. "I'l not be going to the abbey with you, David." She patted the barely discernible curve of her abdomen. "It's bad enough being sick every morning. If I had to ride all that way in a wagon, I'd be fit for nothing."

David regarded his wife thoughtfully. "Surely that's not the whole reason."

She shrugged and pulled bread, cheese, knife, and a jar of pickle sauce from the basket. "I would probably be the only woman there, which is bad enough, but I'm not pretty and I'm not a lady and I'l be green from the wagon ride as well. I'd rather not be there than go and be miserable, because if I'm miserable, you will be, too."

"True enough, la.s.s, but is that the all?"

She gave a catch of laughter. "You always know." She spread pickle sauce on a piece of bread, laid on a slab of cheese, and handed it to Peter, who was circling hopefully. "Very well, I'm not comfortable around Lord Drayton. I would rather keep my distance."

"He's an odd duck, for sure, but this is a great opportunity to meet some of the finest minds in Britain, and even other countries. Surely you would like discussing your maths with someone who understands what you're saying."

Her smile wry, she handed him bread and cheese. "There aren't five men in Europe who would be willing to speak with me about mathematics as an equal. One of them is Lord Falconer and you say he won't be at the forum. Likely the other four won't be, either. The guests who are at the abbey will look at me as if I'm a talking mule. Interesting, but useless for a mule's main purpose."

David had to admit she was probably right. "Very well, if you don't wish to go. But-I'l miss you."

"You'l only be gone for a week." She poured ale into two mugs, then a.s.sembled two more servings of bread and cheese and took the lid off a small crock of pickled onions. "And you will enjoy yourself more without having to worry about me." She kissed him before popping a pickled onion in her mouth and returning to the house.

David was sorry to think she would miss the excitement of the forum, but he had to admit that he liked the idea of her and the coming child safe in London.

Odd. One would think a country estate would be safe.

Shrugging off a vague sense of apprehension, he turned his attention to his design for a flywheel that would convert the engine's power into rotary motion rather than the up-and-down pumping of the beam. The spinning and weaving business could surely use such power. . . .

Lord Sterling picked a path through the crowded coffeehouse to the table where Simon waited. The coffeehouse was noisy at this hour, which made it a good place for a private conversation. "Good day, Falconer. How is your charming wife?" The wooden spokes of the Windsor chair creaked as he settled into it.

Simon signaled the waiter to bring the coffee tray he'd ordered. "She is still charming, though sadly absent since she's staying with Lady Bethany for a few days. The house is empty without her. I look forward to her return tomorrow."

Sterling smiled fondly. "Sally and I have been married over forty years, and I still don't like it when we're separated for a night."

"If I were married to Lady Sterling, I'd keep her close, too." Simon shook his head. "I can't imagine why a man would want a simpering miss with nothing between her ears when one can have beauty and brains instead."

Sterling chuckled. "You certainly spared yourself from simpering. Your wife is one of the most interesting new talents we have. I look forward to seeing what she can do with magic suppression spells."

The waiter set down a tray containing a coffeepot, two cups, and several small saucers of extra ingredients, then vanished. Simon stirred shaved chocolate, cinnamon, raw Jamaica sugar, and a dollop of heavy cream into his cup. "Speaking of spells . . ."

"Ah, are we getting down to business?" The older man followed Simon's lead in which ingredients to add to his coffee. "I didn't think you had invited me here solely for the purpose of discussing how delightful wives can be."

"I was hoping you would help me study the wards on Drayton House," Simon said bluntly. "They are exceptionally powerful, and I suspect I'm not fully understanding them. You might be able to see some of the mechanisms involved."

"So you intend to invade Drayton House." Sterling sipped his coffee. "Mmm, excellent. Decadent, even. I trust you have a good reason for becoming a burglar?"

"Meg says that there is another thrall held captive there. Last week we liberated four from Brentford Abbey and that was difficult enough. Drayton House will be harder. Given how Meg feels about rescuing Drayton's victims, I fear that she might try to break in as soon as she's back in town, so the more I can do to help her, the better."

"You've set yourself quite a task. I haven't studied Drayton's wards deeply, but they're formidable." Sterling frowned. "So formidable that it's more evidence that he is stealing power from others. Even I might not be able to match them, and this sort of work is my specialty."

"This is not encouraging." Simon pushed his chair back. "Shall we take a look?"

"After we finish our coffee, my boy." Sterling added another spoonful of shaved chocolate to his cup. "At my age, one learns to savor life's moments, since it is never clear how many more one will have."

"I stand corrected, sir."

Sterling grinned. "What a very polite way to wish me to the devil."

Simon had to laugh. "Sorry, is that how I sounded? I am impatient, but a few more minutes won't matter, and the coffee here is the best in London."

They finished their coffee in a leisurely fashion, then left to walk the few blocks to Drayton House. The house faced onto a small square, so they lingered as if watching children play in the tiny park in the middle instead of observing Drayton's home.

Lord Sterling asked, "Is the gentleman, a term I use ironically, at home?"

"No, he's out doing cabinet business, I believe. Definitely not at home." Simon could have ridden directly to Drayton's present location if he chose. The rogue was always in the back of Simon's mind, like an unscratchable itch.

Lord Sterling relaxed, his hands folded on the silver head of his cane and his unfocused gaze on the wide, fashionable house. "Drayton has strengthened the wards since the last time I was here," he murmured. "Mundanes like his servants can enter and leave without being affected, but anyone with power will suffer greatly if Drayton doesn't escort them in himself."

"He had wards of this type at Brentford Abbey, but these appear to be stronger." Simon also studied the house with his inner eye. "Opening a portal will not be easy."

"The inside of the house is virtually opaque. These wards must take a huge amount of power to maintain." Sterling's brows drew together. "Lady Falconer claims that a thrall is imprisoned here. I can't detect any such person-the wards are too strong. Might they be fueled by the thrall's own power?"

"Not only possible but likely. He used Meg's power to fuel an illusion spell that made her look ugly and undesirable."

Sterling's brows arched. "That would take a great deal of power, and shows how the devil thinks. If the thrall is there, it explains how Drayton can maintain such strong wards. He's a clever devil."

"The girl is there, all right, in an attic room. I can't sense any more about her, but Meg was right about her existence," Simon said thoughtfully. "It would seem that if we find the thrall and block the energy flow to the wards, it will be much easier to leave the house than it was to get in."

"When the time comes, I would suggest coming and going through the front door. Since Drayton uses that himself, the field might be weakened a little." Sterling's gaze slid out of focus. "These wards have some aspects I've never seen before and can't identify. He may have come up with something specifically aimed at you or your lady, or both. I would be very, very careful."

"Do you know what Drayton's larger purpose might be?" Simon asked. "I know he needs money, but the true goal is surely power of whatever kind he can build or steal."

"Over the last several years, you've been traveling outside of London a good deal," Sterling observed. "When there's a critical vote in the House of Lords, you show up to cast your vote, then vanish, so you must be out of touch with the murkier aspects of politics. You know that Drayton is the minister of state for domestic affairs, but I think he has grander ambitions. I think he wants to be the prime minister."

Simon's brows arched. "The king wouldn't dare set aside Pelham. It would bring the government down."

"This king won't. But he is not a young man. If something should happen to him, the Prince of Wales will inherit."

"The Nauseous Beast? He is so disliked that even men who hate his royal father pray for George to have a long life."

"Frederick is indeed disliked-which is why he has welcomed Drayton's flattery. Our rogue has become one of Wales's chief confidants. If the king dies, his son will be able to choose a new prime minister if he wishes-and he will probably wish so."

Simon whistled softly. "As prime minister, Drayton would have enormous mundane power, including ample opportunities to rebuild his finances. If he also controls the minds of the country's finest engineers -I can't even imagine what he might do."

"Stop him, Falconer," Sterling said gravely. "I'm no seer, but I feel it will be very bad indeed if he is permitted to gather such power into his greedy hands."

"I'l do my best." Though Simon wished he was more confident about what should be done. "Shall we walk by the house and see if we pick up anything else?"

"By all means. I'd like a closer view of the wards."

They strolled around the square, Sterling leaning heavily on his cane, which was a convenient excuse for moving slowly. They had covered half the distance when Simon started feeling unwell, the boundaries of his body blurring. Two more steps and he realized that Drayton's transformation spell was reactivating.

He tried to control the spell, but already it was clouding his mind and sliding poisonously through his blood. The first agonizing pains shot through muscle and bone as they began to soften and stretch. Dizzy and unable to speak, he pivoted and moved away as quickly as his shaky limbs would permit.

Startled, Lord Sterling swung around. "My boy, are you unwell?"

"You almost had the pleasure of sharing your stroll with a unicorn," Simon choked out, grateful that the effect of the spell dropped sharply with distance. Now that he was out of range, he halted and tried to collect himself.

Sterling moved forward and took Simon's arm to guide him back along the street. "Now we know what Drayton added to the wards that are aimed at you."

"This b.l.o.o.d.y spell has become the bane of my existence," Simon said through gritted teeth. "And there may be no way to lift it. Lady Beth thinks only Drayton can break the spell, and he would see me in h.e.l.l first."

"What if he dies?"

"That probably won't do me any good. I'l spend the rest of my life trying to avoid becoming so angry that I sprout hooves and horn." If he did change, would he be able to return to himself? Though he had no proof, intuition suggested that Meg was able to control the spell because of the combination of virginity and her great power. Either alone might not be enough-and the virginity would surely be gone soon.

He gave a mental shrug. The spell was only an issue if he survived the coming confrontation with Drayton -and survival was by no means a.s.sured.

CHAPTER THIRTY.