Chapter 16 Unwitting Spellcasters
by Jeff Bigler
Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire
Darcy awoke in his chamber at Netherfield Park with the sensation that he was falling.
He awoke with a start, and in that uncertain moment between slumber and awakening he fell out of the bed.
Damn and blast! As soon as the words formed in his mind, the writing desk on the other side of the room burst into flames.
Darcy bolted out of bed and doused the flames with water from the washbasin. How did that happen?
Darcy’s valet dashed into the room. “Mr Darcy, sir. Are you well?”
“I am unhurt, Hines, but I am unsure what has just happened.”
“I do not think I have ever seen you lose control of your magic before. Are you feeling quite well?”
Magic? What could he be talking about? Magic does not exist, except perhaps in fairy tales! “I am well.”
“Shall I bring you some chocolate?”
“Chocolate?”
“Pardon my impertinence, sir, but my mother would give us chocolate whenever we lost control of our magic. I had thought the remedy was universal. Is there something else that you would prefer?”
“Chocolate will do, thank you.”
“Right away, sir.”
Darcy pondered the flames. Evidently, I have some sort of magical powers.
From Hines’s reaction, it would seem as if I have always had them.
Why am I unable to recall anything about them?
Perhaps this is one of those strange happenings that I have been experiencing lately…
or at least I believe I have been experiencing them. Could I be losing my mind?
If I am supposed to have “magical” powers, others will wonder why I do not know how to wield them. Maybe I have suffered some sort of amnesia?
When Hines returned with the beverage a few minutes later, Darcy sipped it tentatively.
The valet asked, “Would you prefer to take a tray in your chamber this morning, sir?”
“Yes, I think that would be advisable.”
Elizabeth awoke in one of the guest rooms at Netherfield. She rang for a maid, and when she was dressed, she went across the corridor to check on her sister.
Jane fared no better this morning. Elizabeth put a hand on her forehead.
She still burned with fever. If only I could do something!
I wish I could pull the sickness from her and cast it away!
The moment the thought took shape in Elizabeth’s mind, Elizabeth felt as though the thought had tenderly reached out to her sister and enveloped her. A moment later, Jane opened her eyes.
“Lizzy! You have cured me! I had no idea your magic could do that!”
Magic? My magic? What madness is this? Clearly, Jane believes me to possess magic…and to her it is as commonplace as speaking.
“Um…neither had I. My…magic…continues to surprise me.”
“Shall we go down to breakfast? I am eager to see Mr Bingley. I am sure he will be glad to see that I have recovered.”
I had thought that magic only occurs in storybooks! Evidently, this “magic” that I possess can cure illness. She smiled to herself. I wonder…could it “cure” Mr Darcy’s arrogance?
Mr Bingley appeared shortly. “Miss Bennet, I am glad to see that you are looking so well. Does this mean that you are feeling better?”
“Yes, Mr Bingley. Lizzy used her magic to cure me. I believe that I am fully recovered.”
Mr Bingley beamed. “That is most wonderful news! I believe we should have a picnic to celebrate!”
“Perhaps we should return to Longbourn,” Elizabeth suggested. “Have we not already imposed on your hospitality enough?”
“Of course not, Miss Elizabeth! I would be delighted to spend the afternoon with you both. I shall ask Darcy if he would accompany us. Where is Darcy? He is gone out early, I suppose.”
I should be glad to be away from that man’s scrutiny. “Oh, you need not trouble the gentleman on our account,” Elizabeth interjected. “I am sure he has more important things to do.”
“Nonsense. As you know, Darcy is here to assist me with the estate. I am sure there is nothing that would keep him from enjoying the pleasure of your company.”
Though Mr Darcy might enjoy her company, Elizabeth wished Mr Bingley had asked how she might feel about his. Nevertheless, she acquiesced.
The picnic was held on a grassy knoll next to a pond on the Netherfield estate, and Mr Darcy had indeed joined the party. A goose approached where they sat.
“Geese are mean-spirited creatures,” said Mr Darcy. “I had a run-in with an ill-tempered goose…some time ago…. But do not worry. I shall take care of it.”
Mr Darcy looked sternly at the goose and waved his arms, attempting to drive it away.
As soon as that thought had fully formed, there was an explosion that knocked Darcy to the ground.
Within seconds, the goose ran straight towards him and nipped at him.
Mr Darcy shouted, “Get this damned beast away from me!”
I wish the goose would calm. No sooner had the thought formed in Elizabeth’s mind than the goose stopped pecking Mr Darcy, looked up at Elizabeth, and waddled towards the pond as if nothing had happened.
“Miss Elizabeth, I must apologise for my unseemly language,” Darcy said once the goose had removed to a safe distance.
“Think nothing of it, Mr Darcy,” she replied, trying but failing to suppress a laugh.
“But I must wonder whether there is something antagonistic in your nature.” After an awkwardly long pause, she smiled and added, “Of course, I am referring to your effect upon geese. I have always found them to be pleasant creatures.”
Mr Bingley exclaimed, “What the devil has gotten into you, Darcy? You should never use magic on a goose! They are magical creatures—you never know what might happen!”
Elizabeth observed Mr Darcy’s odd behaviour and the puzzled look on his face.
Mr Bingley asked, “Are you well, old man? You have seemed out of sorts all day.”
“I was…um…having some trouble…with my…magic this morning.”
“I am much surprised. You have always been the epitome of control. I have seen you burn a hole in a tree, yet the wood adjacent to the hole was not even the slightest bit warmed. Do you have any idea what might be the cause?”
Mr Darcy ran his fingers through his hair. Elizabeth had noticed this nervous habit of his on previous occasions. She thought it made him look even more handsome.
“It is most strange. It is almost…as if…I have forgot how to use it.”
“Really, Darcy, that is most disturbing. Could it be related to the war effort? Perhaps you have overtaxed yourself in sending power to the mages on the front? Have you tried sending any to the colonel this morning?”
“No, I have not.” Mr Darcy wrinkled his brow.
“Perhaps that is best, old man. If something is amiss, it would not do to endanger him or his regiment. Miss Elizabeth, do you think that your magic might help Darcy? Perhaps you might cure a magical malady as well as a physical one?”
Elizabeth balked. “I would not know what to try.”
Jane chimed in. “But Lizzy, you always know what to do.”
Mr Darcy interjected, “I am unsure whether the…problem…lies with my magic or my memory.”
Elizabeth pondered Mr Darcy’s words. It seems that I also have magic that I have somehow forgotten about?
However, she supposed that she must try something.
Elizabeth had cured Jane’s illness by wishing it away; perhaps she could cure Mr Darcy’s magic in the same manner.
Though she could not yet say that she particularly liked the man, it would be unkind not to try.
I wish Mr Darcy’s magic would work properly again.
As she concentrated on the thought, she felt her thought reach out to Mr Darcy. Something had clearly happened, because Mr Darcy suddenly clutched his head in agony.
At the same instant, Elizabeth felt a blinding flash of light inside her own mind. Her head was aflame with an intensity that she had never known before. She fell to the ground.
Is this what magic feels like? How, then, is everyone else so nonchalant about it?
When she opened her eyes, Jane’s and Mr Bingley’s worried faces came into focus. She tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness came over her, and she fell back again.
“Lizzy, are you well?” asked Jane.
“I… yes… no… I do not know. What has just happened?”
“Mr Darcy must have refused your magic, and it rebounded on you. That can be very dangerous. I do not know why Mr Darcy would have done such a thing.”
Mr Bingley turned towards Mr Darcy, who was gripping his head with both hands. “Darcy, what are you about? Why did you not accept Miss Elizabeth’s magic?”
“I…did nothing. I do not know how to do that.”
Mr Bingley looked as though someone had just told him that the moon was made of cheese. He asked, “How could one of the most powerful mages in Britain suddenly not know how to do something so simple? Have you lost your mind? Or perhaps your memory?”
“It would seem so. It is as if my…as if everything I ever understood about magic is gone from my mind.”
Mr Darcy’s words match my experience exactly.
Could this be another of those strange dreams—or whatever they are?
Am I somehow dreaming that Mr Darcy and I both have magical powers that neither of us understands?
Is there some reason that in every one of these dreams, I have been thrown together with Mr Darcy, under ever more bewildering circumstances?
As Elizabeth’s head cleared, her dizziness abated. If Mr Darcy can feign amnesia, so can I. “I too feel…that is to say, I seem to be having the same feelings that Mr Darcy described. My…magic feels…foreign to me.”
Jane said, “It is a good thing that the two of you enjoy one another’s company. As it seems that you are both afflicted with the same malady, we will need someone who can cure both of you together.”
“Enjoy one another’s company? While I do not find Mr Darcy objectionable, I scarcely know him!”
Jane and Mr Bingley stared at her. “Lizzy, how can you say such a thing? The two of you have been working together to assist the campaign on the continent for several months.”
Elizabeth tried in vain to mask her shock. What else might I have done that I am unaware of?