Chapter 8
“ A nne is stirring.” Frederica’s voice was quiet, but it carried through the silent room.
Darcy closed his book without marking the page. He had not been able to keep his attention on it anyway, not with everything that had been happening.
Frederica chafed her cousin’s hand. “Anne, can you hear me?”
“Of course. I am not deaf,” said Anne sharply. “Where is he?”
“Whom do you mean?”
“That strange man, the one who said he would fix me.”
Elizabeth said, “He is a Sidhe, not a man, and he has returned to Faerie.”
Frederica asked hesitantly, “How do you feel?”
Anne’s brow furled. “Odd. As if I have been trapped in treacle and am suddenly free. What happened?”
“You have been under a spell, a binding spell. We could not explain that to you because part of the spell made you swoon whenever anyone mentioned magic. We had been trying to find a way to break the spell for some time. Yesterday our Sidhe friend was able to remove it. You have been asleep since then.”
“A spell.” Anne’s voice went flat. “I suppose my father set it up before he died.”
Frederica cast a concerned glance at Darcy. “No,” she said slowly. “We believe he had nothing to do with it.”
“You think he would not stoop so low? I assure you he would. ”
Frederica bit her lip. “That might be true, but my father was the one who cast a spell on you.”
“Lord Matlock?” Anne gave a harsh laugh. “And he is the one who is supposed to protect us from sorcerers.”
“You do not remember him casting a spell?”
Anne shook her head. “I remember he came for the funeral. I was still weak. When I stopped being able to think clearly, I assumed it was God’s punishment for killing my father.”
Eversleigh said quickly, “Miss de Bourgh, children who lose a parent often feel as if they are responsible for their – why are all of you looking at me like that?”
Elizabeth finally broke the silence that followed. “I cannot claim much knowledge of the episode, but my understanding is that Miss de Bourgh did cause her father’s death, though I have not heard any evidence that it was done deliberately.”
“Oh, it was deliberate, I assure you,” said Anne coldly. “I had to feign illness for a week to keep him from draining my magic long enough that I could recover it to kill him.”
Eversleigh said in a strained voice, “Miss de Bourgh, only a sorcerer would drain a child of magic. Are you attempting to tell us your father was a sorcerer?”
“Did you not know?” Anne stared at them. “He had been stealing my magic for as long as I could remember. He needed it to fuel his spells to force others to do his bidding.”
Darcy was stunned. Could it be true? But his own father had known Sir Lewis well. Could he and Lord Matlock both have missed the evidence? Past sorcerers had managed to hide their endeavors for years. All Darcy could remember of Sir Lewis was him standing with his hand on Anne’s shoulder, always on her shoulder, and Anne being perpetually exhausted and eating enough for three children. Good God, it really was true .
Anne shuddered. “I need to release some of my magic. All these years with it bottled inside me – I thought it would drive me mad.”
Frederica’s face might be ashen, but she still remembered her manners. “Would it help to cast a spell?”
Anne’s eyes were sad. “I do not know any spells, only how to unmake things. It would be rude to unmake any bits of you when you have been helping me, and mother was very cross the time I unmade part of the house. And yes, that was supposed to be a jest.”
“I could teach you how to light a candle with magic. All you have to do is to concentrate on the wick and imagine it growing hotter and hotter, say ‘ Ardescas ,’ and it will be done.” Frederica fetched a small candelabra from a sideboard and set it before Anne.
“Just that?” asked Anne dubiously. “I thought there was more than that to spells.”
“That is all you need for this one. That is why it is good for beginners.”
Anne squinted and stared at the candle. “ Ardescas .” The wick began to emit smoke and burst into flames.
So did the draperies and the rug.
Eversleigh and Frederica began frantically chanting spells to douse the fire, but no sooner would one area of flames go out than another would start. Elizabeth, coughing, tried to say something to Anne, gesturing to the door.
Darcy frantically called to the lake, holding the water near the high ceiling, and released it. Icy water cascaded down.
The flames sizzled and died. Darcy told the knee-deep water to quench any last bits of fire it had missed and return to the lake.
Frederica coughed and spluttered while Eversleigh wrestled to open the windows.
Richard shook drops from his hair like a water dog. “Very impressive, Darcy,” he drawled. “I am certain all the maids would be delighted to learn that little trick.”
Exhausted and oddly embarrassed, Darcy called the last of the water, the droplets soaking everyone’s clothes, gathered them into a small pool at his feet, and sent it away.
Elizabeth touched her now dry skirt in astonishment. “How did you do that?”
“My affinity for water,” he said awkwardly. “It listens to me.”
“Apparently it listens quite well!”
“Well,” said Eversleigh in a tone perfectly suited for an assembly at Almack’s, “I suggest we adjourn the magic lessons and regroup in the garden. I can see Miss de Bourgh is still brimful of magic, and pent-up magic will be safer outside.”
Frederica touched a lank strand of hair that had been a ringlet before the deluge of lake water. “First I must... Oh, never mind. This is more important.”
Darcy grabbed pastries in both hands on his way out. He was grateful to Eversleigh for taking charge of the situation. Eversleigh had not experienced the same shock he had, of realizing his aunt’s husband had been a sorcerer, or the disconcerting discovery that his cousin Anne was not at all the woman he thought her to be.
Ahead of him Anne said to Eversleigh, “I did not intend to burn anything but the candle wick, but I have always hated the decorating scheme in that room. Perhaps the fire knew that.”
“I would be surprised by that, but I must say, Miss de Bourgh, though I have only known you a very short time, I am certain you have many surprises in store.”
Darcy said, “It takes very little intention for an elemental mage to set a large fire, even using a spell. I have to be very careful of my focus when lighting a candle to keep the fire contained to the candle. Most likely she will need to do so as well.” Someone would need to train her to control her elemental magic before she did some real damage, and unfortunately he was the only elemental mage in this part of England. Another unwanted responsibility.
“But she used a spell, not elemental magic,” said Frederica.
“It does not matter,” said Darcy. “Elemental magic is instinctive. She was thinking about creating a flame, so her elemental magic created flames. Elemental mages set fires while they are still in their cradles. Spells have to be taught.”
Elizabeth looked puzzled. “Is it a completely different kind of magic, then?”
Richard answered while Darcy was still trying to think of a response that would not frighten her. “It is a different beast altogether. Some scholars think it must be a remnant of a Sidhe power because elemental mages have a death curse, just as the Sidhe do.”
Elizabeth drew back. “He can make people die?” She sounded horrified.
“Only if they kill me first,” Darcy said quickly. “It is a curse that takes effect on my death rather than a curse to cause death. It was used more in the past than it is now.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth’s face cleared. “I am learning a great deal! My magic works so differently. I neither use spells nor the elements. I do not think about fire at all when I make it.” She held up her hand and rubbed her thumb against the tips of her first two fingers. A blue flame rose out of her thumb. “I light the candle with this. Do not worry; it does not burn.” She ran her free hand through the flame to demonstrate, then quenched it by blowing on it.
“Nicely done. That is wild magic,” said Eversleigh. “Rubbing your fingers together simulates how a fire is made, so there is no need to think of fire.”
“How did you learn that?” asked Frederica.
Elizabeth said, “I wish I could tell you. It simply came to me one day when I wanted to light a candle and was too tired to go downstairs to the fire to do so.”
Eversleigh smiled warmly at her. “Definitely wild magic. It starts with your intent, and then the magic leads you.”
“I wish it were so simple for me!” exclaimed Frederica. “Will you show me that again?”
When Elizabeth complied, Frederica attempted to imitate her, her face screwing up in concentration. “Bother! I cannot do it.”
“Wild magic is hard when you have used spells all your life,” said Eversleigh.
They had reached a little wilderness between the formal gardens and the orchard, stopping by the banks of the stream. Frederica asked Anne, “Do you wish to try again? The spell for this is ‘ Crescas .’ Say it as you touch the plant, send your magic down into its roots and its leaves, and encourage it to grow. This should be safer than creating fire.”
Anne knelt beside the new growth of plants pushing their way up into the spring air. She pointed to a furled fern. “A plant like that?”
“Certainly.”
“ Crescas .” Anne held the stem between her thumb and forefinger and frowned in concentration. “Nothing is happening.”
“Do not give up. Almost everyone with magic can make plants grow, even if just a little. It is a matter of finding the knack for it. It is intensive magic, so do not expect dramatic results.”
Darcy suspected that was why Freddie had picked this particular task. If Anne needed to burn massive amounts of magical energy, growing a plant or two should be enough to exhaust her. Then they could decide what to do next.
The fern slowly began to unfurl and extended itself inch by inch. Leaves began to form on the fronds. Darcy encouraged the water in the stream to soak into the bank, since the rapid growth must be draining the soil of every bit of moisture it contained. Soon the fern stood a foot tall, towering over its neighbors in its full glory .
“Impressive,” remarked Eversleigh. “I doubt any of us could have taken it that far except perhaps Darcy, and even he would have had to make an enormous effort.”
Anne stared at the fern. “I need more.” She ran off towards the orchard, her skirts kilted up in her hands. Frederica followed at her heels.
Eversleigh raised his eyebrows expressively at Darcy. They followed the path to the orchard at a more sedate pace.
In the orchard, Frederica remonstrated with Anne, whose hands were wrapped around the trunk of a recently planted sapling. “You will exhaust yourself. It is not wise.”
“I want to exhaust myself!” Anne closed her eyes and leaned toward the sapling, twigs brushing against her forehead. The leaf buds swelled and burst forth in greenery. Then, incredibly, the tree grew taller inch by inch. The trunk thickened between Anne’s hands, even as she grew pale, her arms trembling. Frederica wrung her hands.
Elizabeth appeared followed by two footmen, one with a tray of food and the other with a pitcher of lemonade. She stopped short when she spotted Anne, her mouth open.
Anne’s head now leaned against a trunk too wide to wrap her hands around. The growth appeared to have stopped. Slowly Anne slid down to her knees. She seemed to be barely breathing, but she whispered, “That is better.”
Darcy could not believe it. Lord Matlock had believed Darcy would be able to manage Anne’s outbursts of magic if he married her. Based on this performance, that task would be as far beyond his abilities as flying to the moon.
Elizabeth motioned the footman forward to offer the food to Anne, who grasped a roll in one hand and a piece of sausage in the other and did her best to devour them simultaneously.
Eversleigh sidled over to Darcy. “I am rather glad I did not know the powder keg we were sitting on when I weakened that defensive spell,” he said quietly.
“I would not have believed it possible.”
“I can tell you one thing,” said Eversleigh. “If her father was indeed studying sorcery and he had that magnitude of magical power to call upon, I think we are all very fortunate he died when he did.”
“Amen,” said Richard.
Frederica raised her head, her arm around Anne’s shoulders. “I fear she has fainted. She will need assistance returning to the house.”
Richard stepped forward. “I will carry her.”
“Not you, Fitzwilliam,” said Eversleigh. “You are a source, and if you touch her right now –”
“She will drain every ounce of magic out of me, even unconscious. You are correct. It is going to take some time for me to grow accustomed to this new Anne,” said Richard.
“I will take her,” said Eversleigh. “No, not you either, Darcy. Your arm is injured. It might be improper, but to be honest, my carrying your cousin to the house is probably the least shocking thing that has happened today.”
“Take her to the Dower House,” said Frederica. “We do not need Lady Catherine hearing about this.”
“WHAT ARE YOU GOING to do about Sir Lewis?” asked Frederica from her place beside Anne’s unconscious body on the fainting couch.
“Damned if I know,” grumbled Richard. “I am not looking forward to telling my father.”
Darcy said, “Surely we should at least investigate his study before troubling Lord Matlock.”
“First things first,” Eversleigh said crisply. “Neither of you is going to do anything unless I ask you to do it. I do not want to deal with questions later about why blood relatives were allowed to lead this investigation – and that goes for Lord Matlock as well. By default, that means this is my investigation, and you are following my instructions.”
“You will hear no objection from me,” said Richard. “I am happy to cede this responsibility.”
“I was going to suggest the same thing,” said Darcy. “Especially since you are on the Council of Mages.”
“There is that,” said Eversleigh dryly. “This would have fallen to me in any case, since of the other three mages on the Council, one is in Ireland, one is 83 years old and can barely remember his own name, and one is crippled by gout. It is merely good fortune I am already here.”
Elizabeth asked, “Pardon me, but if there are questions later, how are we to account for your being here already? I assume you would prefer not to bring Faerie into it.”
“A good point.” Eversleigh’s gaze drifted thoughtfully over each of them in turn. “Gentlemen, perhaps you would join me in spreading the rumor that I am dangling after Lady Frederica. Naturally I followed her here.” He bowed to Frederica. “Unless you object, Lady Frederica?”
Richard chuckled. “No one will have any trouble believing that. There is always some fellow or another dangling after Freddie.”
“Is that so?” Eversleigh raised his quizzing glass and examined Frederica. “I suppose there would be.”
Frederica’s cheeks were red, but whether from embarrassment or anger was impossible to tell. “If it is convenient for your lordship, I can have no objection. But I would prefer to hear your plans for stopping the sorcery here.”
Eversleigh glanced in the mirror and made a microscopic adjustment to his cravat. “Darcy is correct. The three of us must examine Sir Lewis’s study. I tend to believe Miss de Bourgh’s assertion that he was a sorcerer, since she would have no reason to lie, but let us prove it before going any further. ”
Richard heaved a sigh. “You are right, I suppose. At least we will be done faster with three of us working.”
Darcy shook his head. “It may take longer than a day. The room has been locked up since Sir Lewis’s death, and I am likely the only person who has entered it since.”
“That was an unfortunate choice under the circumstances, but I suppose you could not have known.” Eversleigh’s voice was tinged with disapproval.
“No, I could not have known,” retorted Darcy. “I was looking for books that might have information on Faerie. The room was covered with dust. You will be able to see where I was and what I touched.”
“You saw no evidence of sorcery?”
“I was not looking for it. There was some odd equipment that looked alchemical, and some of his books were in Italian, but I thought nothing of it at the time.” There was no need to say more. Every mage knew most books on sorcery were written in that language.
Richard stretched. “Fortunately, we do not need to do a complete search. All we need is confirmation that he was engaged in sorcery, and then it will be my infelicitous task to ride to London and break the news to my father. Even if it is your investigation, Eversleigh, he cannot be left out of it.”
“You could send an express,” said Darcy.
Richard shook his head somberly. “My father is not a young man, and this will devastate him. Telling him in person, with my mother there to support him, is safer.”
Frederica said, “I agree completely, Richard. He will blame himself for failing to see it.”
Something else to look forward to.
THE CORRIDOR TO SIR Lewis’s library was still dust covered, the footprints from Darcy’s previous visit visible. At least now he understood why the servants had been afraid to clean it.
He unlocked the door and held it open for Eversleigh and Richard to precede him. Darcy almost bumped into Richard who stood frozen in place a few feet beyond the door.
“It is true,” said Richard.
“What?” asked Darcy.
“Can you not feel it?” Richard’s face was ashen.
“Feel what?”
Richard moved his hands through the air. “Evil. Death. Corruption. I have never felt sorcery, but I know this is it.”
Eversleigh turned to him. “Can you generally sense the magic of a mage who is not present?”
“No, but this is... It is like a stench. It is simply there.”
“Your father will be interested to know that sources can sense long departed sorcery.”
“If it is sorcery. We still have to prove that,” said Darcy. “Eversleigh, I do not suppose you can read Italian.”
The viscount gave a dry smile. “Indeed I can. I like living on the edge of danger.” Many mages would deny even the appearance of knowledge of the language. “I will look through his books. One of you should go through his desk while the other checks his experiments.”
Richard shuddered. “You take the desk, Darcy. I do not want to touch anything he touched. This is worse than the aftermath of a battle. At least death in battle is clean.” He gingerly approached the laboratory table, his hands tightly clasped behind his back.
Darcy opened the top drawer of the desk. Quills, a knife for mending pens, paper, a bottle of ink – nothing surprising. To be safe, he felt along the back of the drawer for signs of a hidden compartment, but it seemed solid .
The next drawer held leather-bound notebooks. Darcy lifted out the topmost and opened it. The ink had faded, but the crabbed handwriting was still legible. The first page seemed to be a list of ingredients for an experiment, followed by the annotation ‘Useless. Waste of time.’ The next page showed a recipe that seemed to have been more successful, since it was followed by a list of names and quantities – one dram, two drams. The names all sounded like commoners. Had Sir Lewis been experimenting on the servants and the tenants? Bile rose in Darcy’s throat.
A book slammed shut with a bang. Richard said tautly, “Eversleigh, whatever you were doing, stop it.”
“I was merely reading the book,” said Eversleigh mildly.
“Well, don’t read it!” Richard sounded on the edge of an explosion.
Darcy asked, “What were you reading?”
Eversleigh looked apologetic. “It was a spell. It is indeed a book of sorcery, but I was only reading through the spell, not performing it, as if I would ever do such a thing.”
Richard was standing on his toes, his hands clenched. “Then skip the spells!”
“Certainly,” Eversleigh said calmly. “Fitzwilliam, it seems to me we have enough evidence already to say that your father will need to see this, so perhaps you would do best to ride for London now. You are one of the strongest men I know, but clearly you would be better off out of this place.”
Richard looked at Darcy who nodded. “Very well. I cannot be of much use here in any case.”
“But if we ever need a sorcery-sniffing hound, you will be very useful.”
Richard grimaced. “I would be happy never to smell sorcery again. I imagine I will return in the morning. Any messages, Darcy? ”
Darcy shook his head. “Safe travels.”
After Richard left, Eversleigh said, “I have sometimes envied sources for their peaceful abilities, but I am grateful not to be one today. I cannot imagine what it took to distress him so much.”
“You were right to encourage him to leave. I have never seen him react that way.” But the more Darcy saw in the notebooks, the more he sympathized with Richard. “How damning are the books?”
“Very damning indeed. Apart from a few on alchemy, all the ones I have looked at are sorcery texts.” Eversleigh heaved down another large volume from the shelves.
Darcy turned reluctantly back to the notebooks.