Chapter 28 #2
Whatever it was, she hoped it would not delay their return. William's absence was almost a presence in itself, a constant nagging awareness that he was far away. She should be used to this after all his time in France, but somehow this separation was every bit as hard.
Elizabeth gave a slight bounce to check her stance. Yes, she was well balanced, at least if she understood it correctly. She would find out in a moment when Jasper tried to strike her knife from her hand. “Ready,” she said.
Jasper moved, so quickly he seemed to blur, and as light as a dancer. She tried hard to follow the tip of his blade with her eyes as he had instructed, but he took her by surprise, coming from the outside of her arm and striking her hand.
She stifled a groan of pain and forced herself to relax her muscles again. The knife was still there, sitting comfortably in her grip. She had done it!
“Very good!” Jasper sounded pleased. “Now that you can keep hold of your blade, you can start using it.”
A flush of pleasure rose in her chest. After so many months of struggling with her magery lessons, it was freeing to finally succeed at something! A pity it was not a ladylike accomplishment she could boast of, but it still made her feel powerful. “How do I begin?”
He directed her to a bag filled with straw hanging from the wall. “That is the villain you are trying to stop. Your blade will be what strikes him, but the power of it should come from your whole body, not just your hand.” He demonstrated the difference.
It made intuitive sense. She flexed her arm a few times, imagined one of the French soldiers who had hunted Darcy - and struck.
Hard enough that she rebounded on her heels after.
“An excellent first try,” he praised. “You did not make the typical mistake of trying to be ladylike. You must mean to harm them, or the exercise is pointless.”
Steel entered her voice. “People are trying to kill my husband.” And it was surprisingly satisfying to stab a sack of straw.
“Good. This time try to keep your sense of the ground under you. Let your weight go on your forward foot with the strike, but not so much that you cannot keep your connection to the back foot.”
As she tried again, he shook his head. “No, like this.” His arm flashed out, his body turning behind it, and then he danced back. “You try it now.” He focused on her intently.
As she stepped in, her muscles seemed to take on a life of their own, swinging her forward, her arm coming in for the strike at an angle. As if she were trying to pierce the bag to its heart, instead of just plunging it in randomly.
Except that she had not aimed the knife that way, and strange magic was tingling through her limbs.
She stepped back and let her weapon fall to her side. “Jasper,” she said carefully, “I was under the impression you never developed your mage skills.” She had never heard of a Talent that allowed someone to interfere with another person’s movements. Was this why he won all his bouts?
“Not a bit of it,” he said cheerfully. “Otherwise it would limit who I could spar with. No repulsion for me, thank you!”
“You just used Talent on me, making me strike in the way you wanted.” She studied him, realizing something else for the first time. “And you have been moving faster than is normal, each time you demonstrate.”
“Impossible.” But he sounded worried. “I feel no repulsion to you.”
“No one does. Dragon companions are immune to repulsion.” How could she tell for certain, though? When Lady Anne had tested her abilities, she had thrown a ball of light at her.
It was such an easy skill that even she could do it. She gathered some energy from the air and spun it mentally into a thread, and then a sphere. She tossed it at Jasper, trying to hit him in the chest.
He caught it reflexively, then stared at it in shock as it melted away in his hand. Then he raised horrified eyes to hers.
“Magery, I fear,” she said apologetically.
He turned away from her. Drawing a longer blade in his left hand, he attacked the straw bag with both knives. His body whipped back and forth as he made a flurry of strikes with inhuman speed.
By the time he was done - perhaps only a few minutes - the center of the sack was in tatters, and his face was beaded with perspiration.
Breathing heavily, he let his head droop forward.
And then he said wearily, “Is this why I have been feeling so odd since that day? What did that damned High Fae do to me?”
“That, or the healing.” Most likely the latter, but if Jasper would rather blame the fae than Georgiana, she would not argue the point. Surely he would rather have a strange new Talent than be dead.
He made a visible effort to rally himself. “You should try again.”
She kept hitting the target until her arm ached, and she begged for a break until the next day. Otherwise he might have kept her drilling for hours longer.
So no one would see her in her borrowed breeches and shirt, Elizabeth wrapped herself in a cape for the walk back to the house. When she and Jasper left the stable, a fox was waiting for them.
Just sitting there, only a few feet away, for all the world like a tame dog.
“That thing again!” Jasper exclaimed. “He has been out here every day. Someone must be feeding him to make him so tame.”
But the skin on Elizabeth's arms prickled, and not with fear. Magic was in the air. “Jasper, would you try holding out your hand?”
“To a wild fox? Are you mad?”
“I think this may be... something else.”
Her tone of voice must have convinced him this was important. With a sidelong glance at her, he stuck his hand out.
The fox paced towards him, steadily, and without threat, stopping only a foot from Jasper's outstretched hand.
“Now you must offer it to him – and let him bite you.”
“Bite me? Now I know you are out of your mind!”
She said slowly, “I am not an expert on familiars, but I know it is a very bad idea to refuse if one offers himself to you. And that one is definitely offering.” She could feel it clearly, the magic whirling past her. Whatever this was, it was significant.
He had to have heard the same thing from the mages in his family. With a deep sigh, he dropped gracefully to one knee and switched to holding out his left hand. “Not my fighting hand,” he muttered.
Did Jasper ever think of anything but his next bout?
The fox took a single step forward and gently placed his mouth around Jasper's wrist, giving him a good minute to pull away. Making it clear this was not an attack. Then he sank his teeth in.
The wave of power coming off the two of them was strong enough to make Elizabeth stagger, but she stood her ground. Jasper would need her when this was done.
Whenever that would be. The fox's jaws opened again, and he licked the trickle of blood coming from the puncture marks on Jasper's arm. Jasper stared at him as if entranced, and the fox sat, seemingly just as fascinated by the man before him.
The man who had become, unexpectedly, a mage.
And perhaps something more. None of the other mages she knew could move abnormally fast or could take control of someone else's body to make it move in certain ways. Had that strange fae healing turned him into something else completely?
Or had it made him more himself? Both those skills were particularly suited to Jasper's love of swordplay, but it was not ordinary magery.
He would still need help. William and Frederica were far away in London, as was Lady Anne.
All the mages with the usual training, who might be able to advise Jasper better, who knew more about the process of bonding with a traditional animal familiar.
Thank goodness Granny was still here! She had dealt with budding mages before.
Finally Jasper rose to his feet, though his gaze was still distant. The fox turned and trotted off across the park.
“Jasper?” she asked.
He turned his head, his eyes wild. He looked lost, as if he might break apart at any moment. “Yes?” The word seemed to take a great deal of concentration.
“Come,” she said briskly. “We are going to ask Granny about what is happening to you.”
He trailed after her, like a horse following its stablemate, as she made her way into the house. Then he started glancing around, as if seeing ghosts.
“What is it?” She was not sure she wanted to know the answer.
“The fae. I can see them.”
Definitely not ordinary mage behavior. “Well, that will be useful if you ever have to battle one again.” If that did not get a response from him, nothing would.
He remained silent.
Fortunately, Granny was still in the drawing room where Elizabeth had left her before the lesson. Elizabeth quickly recounted what had occurred, since Jasper seemed incapable of it.
“Interesting,” said Granny. “Well, you had best sit down, young Mr. Fitzwilliam. Lizzy, you can go now.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could get out a word, Granny's voice spoke in her head.
That boy is terrified and miserable, but he is a young man. He cannot show any of that in front of a pretty woman. Leave him with me, so he can weep in peace.
Elizabeth nodded slowly, and then left the room.