Chapter Nine
The word spread among the indoor servants and then out to the estate workers.
Miss Thornton had been caught doing something.
Precisely what and why was not known, but everyone had a theory.
That it was serious was certain, for the dragon lord himself had locked his cousin in her bedchamber, using magic to keep her there.
Furthermore, the lady catalyst had informed the housekeeper, within hearing of two of the maids, that Lady Margate had been sent for, and everyone knew Lady Margate was the realm’s most skilled enchanter.
Which meant, Taz decided, that Miss Thornton had kept his involvement secret. However, once an enchanter was involved, she would have no choice but to spill all their secrets. Taz should warn the Hawk.
But even as he turned his steps toward the lake, he thought better of it.
He knew what Hebog would say. The master spy would expect Taz to abandon Miss Thornton and make himself scarce.
Miss Thornton knew very little and could do little damage to the cause.
She didn’t even know Hebog’s real name, nor Taz’s for that matter.
But capturing Taz would give the English far too much information about Hebog and Taz’s previous missions and the other spies he’d worked with.
Hebog would consider the loss of one part English spy well worth the sacrifice.
But Taz couldn’t do it. Miss Thornton trusted him, and he could not just walk away without making at least an attempt at rescuing her.
He had until tomorrow morning, at least according to the gossip. Lady Margate could not come until then. Tonight. He would try to release her from the spelled bedchamber tonight.
He was pitting his own unreliable magic against the power of a dragon lord, but perhaps the very twists that Hebog abhorred would stand Taz in good stead. When he himself couldn’t be certain how his magic would work, how could anyone, even a dragon lord, guard against it?
And, too, Taz was always strongest when working with plants. If he could think of a way to use plant magic to free Miss Thornton, then perhaps they had a chance.
By nightfall, he had a plan, but he waited to execute it. There were guards patrolling the grounds, and they would be most alert immediately after dusk, and again at two in the morning, when the first shift had been replaced by the second.
After midnight, the first shift would be a little complacent and, more to the point, tired.
And so it was after midnight that he crept to where he could place pots beside the path they were patrolling around the manor.
One pot for each guard, each one placed where that guard had to pass under the shadow of a tree, all ready to be triggered at a sound from Taz—an owl’s call, which seemed both innocent in the night and apposite.
The plan worked beautifully. At his call, the plants in the pots opened their flowers.
Taz was too far away to smell the heavy perfume that rolled out into the surrounding air, but he could see the effects on the guard within his view.
The man stopped. His knees buckled. He sank to the ground fast asleep, just an anonymous shadow among others.
And there he would stay until the perfume ran out, or until someone found a way to neutralize it.
The urge to move on to part two of the plan was almost overwhelming, but Taz forced himself to wait for sounds of outcry from the other guards or signs of reinforcements from someone who noticed them fall.
He sang a ballad under his breath to time his wait—one he knew took about four minutes—and when he was finished, the manor still slumbered, and so did the guard Taz could see.
Good enough. Taz had placed himself where he could easily reach the oak tree that was essential to the next part of his plan. Its branches did not reach all the way across the wide walk that ran along the side of the manor at his point, but Taz could fix that.
And a benefit of using a tree was that the magic of growth surrounded everyone all of the time, so a little extra growth should not alert the dragon lord or any magical sentinels the man might have set.
He hoped. He put both hands on the oak’s trunk, closed his eyes, and calmed his breathing.
He fixed in his mind a picture of the branches on the manor side of the tree, and visualizing them growing, growing, growing, until they reached across the path, across the wide border of flowers and shrubs on the other side of the path, all the way to Miss Thornton’s window.
Then he sang his power into the tree, picturing it flowing from his hands, and upward with the sap, feeding into the branches, creating wood and leaves, and all the wonderful growth that was the essence of an oak.
How long he took, he didn’t know, but his mind was attuned to the branches, and he felt when the first twigs reached the glass of the window.
He kept singing, changing the tune a little.
He needed the branches strong enough to take his weight, and he would not object to breaking the glass, as long as it didn’t make too much noise.
However, he didn’t want to knock part of the wall in.
There. That should do it. And when Taz stepped back from the work to see what he’d achieved, he was pleased.
It was even better than he expected, almost as if he’d had an extra source of power from somewhere.
He spared a moment of sympathy for the poor oak.
The branches he’d grown with his magic spanned the ten feet easily, and the twiggy ends of them had bent when they reached the wall, so they now splayed in all directions.
Later gardeners would have to prune them severely to save the tree.
It would not be Taz’s problem. He planned to be long gone before the sun rose. No. Before the next shift arrived and discovered their bird had flown.
Which meant there was no time to lose. He sang a brief verse to the tree, which lowered a branch for him to catch and swing into, and after that, it was the work of moments to make his way across his bridge to Miss Thornton’s window, where he was able to stop with each foot firmly on a broad branch.
She was there, on the other side of the pane. She looked pale and worried, but she brightened when he climbed into view. Her mouth moved, but he could not hear what she had to say. Still, he felt better for knowing that she was, at least as far as he could see, unharmed.
But when he gestured to her to open the window, she shook her head. Frowning, she tapped the window latch, attempted unsuccessfully to shift it, then shook her head again.
Lord Baradine had locked her in, then, and when Taz used his mage sense to examine the lock, he realized it was spelled. What about the hinges on the other side of the window, though? A swift check confirmed that they were magic free.
Furthermore, the hinge pins were on the outside of the window. It would take a delicate touch, but Taz thought he could persuade the oak to push the pins out, and then it should be a simple matter to open the window from that side.
It was even easier than Taz expected, for once he started to sing a robust twig into the right place, Miss Thornton began to sing, too.
Taz couldn’t hear her, but he felt the harmony weaving into his own magic.
That was what had been different earlier, he realized.
She had been singing with him when he grew the tree’s branches.
Her music combined with his gave him more power, and now it also added control.
In moments, the first pin had popped, then the second.
Taz put a hand on the window to stop it from dropping out and making a crash, and then popped the third. He gestured to Miss Thornton to push from her side, supporting the window from his, but giving way.
As it happened, his support wasn’t needed, for the latch, reinforced by the dragon lord’s spell, held the window firmly enough that it could not drop. It gave, though. Inch by inch, and with Taz’s help, as soon as he could get his hands around the edge and pull.
“I can manage that gap, I think,” said Miss Thornton. “Mr. Barberry, I thought you would take your chance to flee. I was refusing to answer questions to give you time to get away.”
“I couldn’t abandon you,” Taz told her. “Not without making an attempt to save you. We don’t have much time. It must be after one, and the next shift of guards will discover their sleeping colleagues at two. I would like us to be well away from here.”
“Give me a moment to grab some shoes and a warm coat,” said Miss Thornton.
“Grab what you need for a few days,” Taz suggested, “but keep it light enough to carry.”