Guardian - Stolen Magic - Part 3
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Part 3

Gradually her ragged breathing slowed. She straightened to face him.

Simon caught his breath again, for the transformation in her appearance was greater than when he had lifted the illusion spell. Her features had been reshaped, bringing her alive as a woman of force and intelligence.

Her gaze focused on Simon. "G.o.d d.a.m.n the man!" she said in a bone-chilling whisper. "May he rot in h.e.l.l for what he did to me!"

Her stammer had vanished and her accent was educated. Glad that her rage wasn't directed toward him, Simon asked, "How much do you understand of what happened?"

She frowned and rubbed at her temple. The wet hair was drying and firelight touched it with auburn highlights. "I know that I have been that monster's slave for many years, and from what you say, he used magic to do it. I have been living as a shadow under his roof, ignored and neglected except when he ravished my mind."

"Ravished your mind? What do you mean?"

She looked away. "He entered my mind and . . . and he stole my soul. Again and again and again. After the worst times, I would sleep for hours and have nightmares."

As soon as Simon understood what she was saying, he swore. "d.a.m.nation, he's been stealing your power and binding you so tightly that you didn't even realize your own abilities. No wonder he was able to overpower me when I confronted him-he was using your magic in addition to his own. He must have recognized your potential as it was starting to bloom, and he captured that power for himself."

She nodded slowly. "He said something like that the day he changed me-that I didn't know what I was. It made no sense."

"You must be a Guardian yourself, Meggie. Is that for Margaret?" He tried to remember if any Guardian children had disappeared under mysterious circ.u.mstances in the last few years. "You're tremendously gifted."

She thought, then shook her head. "My name is Meg, not Meggie. Not Margaret. But what you say makes no sense. I have no special ability. I am nothing."

"That's not true. For years Drayton stole your magic, but he can do that no longer. Now you are free to soar." Since she was still shaking her head doubtfully, he asked, "What do you remember of your home and family?"

She closed her eyes and thought, then opened them again, expression stark. "I . . . I can't remember anything before the day Lord Drayton took me prisoner."

"You said you were in a field. Do you remember where?"

She shrugged helplessly. "Just a field. Maybe near here, maybe far."

"Your accent sounds as if you come from this border area between England and Wales, but you might have picked that up by living in Castle Drayton." Simon tried another tack. "Do you remember the date you were captured? Or at least the year?"

Her brow furrowed with effort. "I . . . I think it was the year of our Lord 1738."

"You have been his captive for ten whole years." It was an effort for Simon to keep his rage at Drayton from his voice. "If you were on the verge of coming into your power, you were probably thirteen or fourteen then. That would make you twenty-three or twenty-four now." She looked younger, but that wasn't surprising, given that she'd lost ten years of normal experience. "What was your life like? Did you ever leave the castle?"

"I wandered around the castle grounds, but never beyond." She frowned. "Whenever I approached the estate boundary, something always made me turn back."

"One of Drayton's spells must have been designed to keep you from escaping."

"I never thought to try. Mostly I drifted about like a . . . a feather in a pond. Usually I was with the horses or in the forest. The housekeeper made sure I received food and new clothing when necessary. The lord would enter my mind whenever he wanted-it didn't matter where I was." She shuddered. "Sometimes he summoned me to his study so he could experiment. Those times were worst."

Simon could only imagine the horrors Drayton had inflicted on Meg. Though her body might be virginal, she had lost her innocence the day she was captured.

Her fingers twisted together, locking in her lap. "Who am I? Why can I remember nothing except my Christian name?"

Hearing the pain in her voice, he said, "Your mind has been dampened for many years, so it's not surprising your memory is imperfect. Give it time to heal."

Her gaze met his. Her eyes were a smoky gray green. "Do you think it will?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I've never heard of a case like yours. But your intelligence and understanding seem to have recovered immediately, so I think there's a good chance you will regain the rest of your mental faculties."

She rubbed her temple fretfully. "It feels like he's still in my mind even though he left for London two days ago. Can he reach me from such a distance?"

Simon swore again, this time to himself. In his haste, he hadn't taken the time to check that he'd fully severed the energy line that connected Meg to Drayton. He surveyed her energy field for the remnant of the silver thread.

Not only had he failed to fully cut the connection, but the line was intact and pulsing with a dark energy that had to come from Drayton. Simon concentrated his power, then slashed at it. The thread continued to pulse no matter how hard he tried to sever it. Drayton was still hooked into Meg's energy-and growing more furious by the minute.

Since he couldn't cut the thread, Simon mentally grasped the shimmering strand and twisted a complex knot so that energy could no longer flow. Darkness vibrated angrily on the far side as Drayton hit the block. After a period of increasing tension, the darkness vanished, leaving only the silver strand. "I believe I've stopped Drayton from reaching your mind, at least temporarily," Simon said. "Is he gone?"

Her eyes widened. "I can't feel him anymore. G.o.d be thanked! I don't want him in my mind ever again." She frowned. "You said it's temporary?"

"Since I was unable to sever the connection between you, I created a block so Drayton can't reach you. The block should hold for a while, though I don't know how long. You're safe for now, and with help, we should find a way to cut the connection permanently. But now we must leave the area before he can find us." Simon glanced into the forest, where the downpour had settled into a misty drizzle. "Not that we would want to linger here anyhow."

She bit her lip. "I . . . I haven't thought about what I should do next."

"You are welcome in any Guardian household. We are about a day's ride from the country house of Lady Bethany Fox, head of the Guardian Council. When we reach there, I'l send a message to London and ask her to join us. Lady Beth will be happy to give you a home while you come to terms with your new situation."

"Thank you for not abandoning me."

"Of course I won't. You saved my life. Drayton had every intention of killing me when he returned to the castle."

Her gaze snapped back to him. "Why would he want to murder you?"

"He believed my natural magic was concentrated in the unicorn horn. By killing me, he could possess that magic for himself." Briefly Simon wondered why Drayton was so h.e.l.l-bent on acc.u.mulating power, but that was also a question for another day.

His injured hip was paining him, so he raised the edge of the cloak and examined the wound. The bleeding had largely stopped, but it would start again when he became more active. He scanned lightly with his fingertips, using a healing spell that reduced the chances of infection. Luckily the musket ball hadn 't lodged in his flesh. Or the unicorn's flesh. Whichever, he was fortunate that the wound wasn't worse, but it needed bandaging or he risked bleeding to death when he started walking.

"That wound needs binding," Meg said. "I can spare a petticoat."

He wondered if she was reading his mind, or just being practical. "Thank you. I will owe you a whole wardrobe when we get to safety."

A glint of humor showed in her smoky eyes. "I will need one."

He looked away while she removed the petticoat. A few rips, and she was able to deliver a double handful of damp but clean strips. "Do you need help?" she asked.

"I can manage." Though a hip was not easily bandaged, he managed to fix a heavy pad over the wound. The two of them were getting adept at doing intimate things without offending the other person's modesty.

When he'd finished with his bandaging, he rolled the kinks from his shoulders wearily. Apart from a phantom desire to stamp his hooves, he was as fit as he could be under the circ.u.mstances, so it was time to move on. "I hate to drag you out into the rain again, but we should leave now. I left my horse in a field not far from the castle, and that's a long walk from here. I hope we can reach him before dawn-we don 't want to be seen in that area."

Meg c.o.c.ked her head. "Why are you sure the horse is still there? I should think that whoever owned the field would have noticed and captured your mount already."

"I put a don't-see spell on Shadow. He's not invisible, but people will look away and not notice him." Simon grimaced. "Unfortunately, I left him saddled because I thought I would be gone a few hours at most and might need to leave quickly. There was grazing and water in the field, but he's going to be a very unhappy horse."

"I can call horses," Meg said. "I should be able to bring him right to us."

Simon blinked, but remembered how well Meg had communicated with him when he was in unicorn form. "Is it possible with a horse you've never met who is several miles away?"

"Isn't it worth trying? Your mount's name is Shadow. What does he look like and where did you leave him?"

"He's a tall dark bay with a white sock on his left fore. He's steady of disposition with tremendous staying power. And, as I said, saddled. The bridle I put in my saddlebags, so let's hope he hasn't rolled and managed to free himself of saddle and bags." Simon went on to describe the horse's location in relation to the castle.

Meg nodded and closed her eyes. In the flickering light, her face had the pensive sweetness of a Renaissance Madonna. He still felt an echo of the obsessive attraction he'd experienced as a unicorn. Like the desire to stamp his feet, that should fade now that he was himself again.

But in the meantime, he enjoyed watching her.

Chapter.

SIX.

Though Meg had never called a strange horse from such a distance, it wasn't difficult. Shadow was restless and unhappy, so his energy stood out from that of the more placid horses in the area. She visualized the description Falconer had given her, then the location. All the facts resonated together: this was the horse. Gently she touched his mind. For as long as she could remember, she had been doing this from instinct. Now she reached out consciously. Come to your master, Shadow. He needs you.

The horse lifted his head as if he'd heard a physical voice. Jump the fence and follow my call through the forest. Do you understand? She sent an image of him flying over the fence, then trotting through the night to reach Falconer.

Shadow understood. Glad for action, he headed for the fence, his speed increasing with every powerful stride. Meg stayed in contact with his mind, not wanting the horse to get lost or confused. She also persuaded him to keep his pace moderate. It wouldn't do for him to reach their refuge exhausted.

When she was sure that Shadow was on the right track and happy to follow her guidance, she opened her eyes. "He's on his way. It will take some time. You covered much ground through the forest when we were escaping."

He smiled at her. "If you doubted that you have magic, doubt no more. I could have called Shadow for a short distance, but what you just did is much rarer. It will be interesting to see what you can do after you receive training in how to use your power." He smothered a yawn. "We might as well rest until he arrives. It's been a very long day." After a gesture that caused the mage light to vanish, Falconer pulled the damp cloak around himself and lay down on the opposite side of the fire.

Meg lay down also, but her mind churned with questions. "How do Guardians keep their abilities secret from everyone else?"

Voice drowsy, Falconer said, "We are trained from childhood not to use our powers in front of mundanes, which is what we call those without magic. If a mundane witnesses something he shouldn't, a mild spell of forgetting usually takes care of that. Our servants are from families that have served us for generations." He yawned. "Also, people generally see what they expect to see. They don't expect to see magic."

Meg had endless other questions, but she suppressed her curiosity since Falconer was clearly exhausted. Her mind didn't stop spinning, though. Her companion actually respected her abilities. That had never happened before. She had been somewhere between useless and a nuisance for as long as she could remember. The lord had used her mind, but that had been punishment. He had shown her neither courtesy nor respect.

Perhaps she should have been shocked by Falconer's talk of magic, but his explanation had made sense of a world she'd never understood-not to mention explaining why he'd been a unicorn mere hours before. She had never thought of her ability to call horses as magic, but perhaps it was-she knew no one else who could do it.

What had he said about using magic? That it was about desire and power. Frowning, she opened her hand and imagined a globe of mage light on her palm.

A softly glowing sphere appeared, the bottom tickling her palm. Pleased, she poked the sphere and felt a faint, not unpleasant, tingling. The ball of light didn't have a definite edge. Rather, it was like bright fog.

She squeezed her hand and felt the tingling through all her fingers, while the light continued to glow around her fist.

Experimentally she tossed the light upward as Falconer had done. It vanished in mid-flight instead of attaching itself to the rock above. She gazed at the spot where it had disappeared. Though she had much to learn, she was beginning to believe that she really did have magical power. The thought was awesome and a little frightening.

She wondered what would become of her. Though she was now free, she could remember no home, no family, not even her last name. Thank G.o.d Falconer didn't mean to abandon her. The thought of calling on the aristocratic Lady Bethany was alarming, but not so alarming as being left alone with no friends or skills. The lord would surely find her again before long, a thought that made her shudder. She needed to learn how to protect herself from him, and she could learn that only from Falconer's Guardians.

Eyes closed, she explored the dimensions of her mind. She felt as if she had been drowning in mola.s.ses forever. Now her mind was swift and restless as a sparrow. Questions and ideas spun in all directions. It was hard to believe how slow and docile she had been. She hadn't even known what the word "docile" meant. She felt like a new person, but her new self was rooted in the stunted girl she had been for so long.

Falconer had said that her memory should heal. Praying that was true, she drew as close to the fire as she could get without scorching, and finally dozed off.

Restless dreams disturbed her. She was a swallow, soaring giddily through the sky. Then a great hawk swooped from above, rending her with cruel claws. The shock jerked her awake. When she dozed again, similar dreams plagued her to wakefulness.

The rain had stopped and the sky was pinkening in the east when a soft equine whicker announced that Shadow had arrived. Simon was awake and on his feet while Meg was still blinking blearily. She wondered if he was a soldier to have such alertness.

The horse b.u.t.ted his master in a demand for attention. "Your magic worked, Meg," Falconer said as he greeted his mount affectionately. "Shadow has done some rolling in the gra.s.s, which did the saddle no good, but saddle and bags are still here."

Meg stood and stretched, feeling stiff and grubby but happy. This was the first day of her new life. While much was uncertain, she had escaped from the lord and she had talents she had never known about. She moved into the shrubbery to relieve herself in privacy. By the time she returned, Falconer was properly dressed in the garb of a sober country gentleman. Even with wrinkled clothing and his fair hair tied back, he drew the eye. He had the same lean elegance as a man that he'd had as a unicorn.

"I'm particularly glad that Shadow returned with the saddlebags," he remarked. "Besides the bridle, they contained a change of clothing. No riding boots or hat, but at least I have a decent pair of shoes."

He shook out her cloak, now dry, and returned it to her. She donned it gratefully. Away from the magical fire, the morning air was chilly.

Falconer studied a handsome pocket watch for a moment, then snapped it shut and tucked it into his pocket. "I am fortunate that I left this in my spare breeches. Or perhaps it was intuition, not luck. I should have listened to my intuition more closely."

"Your magic didn't warn you there would be trouble?"

"Magic has its limits. If it didn't, we'd be G.o.ds." After slipping the bridle on the horse, Falconer dug into his saddlebags again. "I have a few currant cakes packed here. They might be broken, but at least they' re food."

"Thank you." She accepted the broken halves of a cake eagerly. "Can you conjure up a cup of hot mint tea to go with it?"

"Ordinarily I'd say no because it would require a tremendous amount of power to create something from nothing. But as it happens . . ." He produced a flask with a flourish. "This contains China tea. It's several days old, but heated it should taste all right."

He removed the stopper and made a small gesture. Steam began to rise from the neck of the flask. He handed it to Meg.

"It's wonderful." She swallowed to wash down the currant cake and almost scalded her tongue from the heat. "At the castle, we almost never had China tea because it was so expensive. Only the lord and the upper servants drank it regularly."

After a second, slower, sip, she returned the flask. Mint tea was nice, but China tea was better.

He took a swallow and was about to hand the flask back when he froze, his expression grim. "Searchers are leaving the castle to look for us. The rain washed out our tracks last night, but the leader of the group has some magic, and it's being enhanced by Drayton. Time we were on our way."

After Meg swallowed the last of her currant cake and washed it down with tea, Falconer stoppered the flask and put it into the saddlebag. He swung up onto Shadow's back, then offered his hand to help her up behind him. After she settled onto the saddlebags, they set off toward the north.

Shadow had such a smooth, steady gait that Meg hardly needed to hold on to Falconer. She glanced back toward their refuge, already concealed by greenery-and was startled to see that the horse left no tracks. "You're able to make Shadow's hoofprints vanish?"

"They exist, but a small illusion spell conceals them. A powerful mage would not be fooled, but the group from the castle might be. It will be interesting to see if Drayton's enhancement will enable our pursuers to see through my spell."

"This ability to enhance troubles you," she said tentatively.

"Drayton is using the energy of others in ways I have not seen before. That could be very dangerous." Falconer's voice was edged. "I shall not underestimate him again."

Meg kept a respectful silence for some time, but her curiosity eventually overcame her. "Can you tell me more about Guardian powers? For example, your ability to sense our pursuers leave the castle. With training, might I be able to do that?"

"You should be able to scry, but what I did was different. There are a number of magics that can be done by any trained Guardian. In addition, most of us also have some special talents-gifts that often run in families. Falconers have always been hunters. That includes skills such as sensing pursuit."

"What do you hunt?"

"Other Guardians," he said dryly. "Most members of the Families are thoughtful men and women who believe in our code of honor. But power is tempting, so the Guardian Council works to ensure that power is not misused. It is my task to ensure that the code is followed."

He said no more, but Meg guessed that he had always been successful in his work, until his encounter at Castle Drayton. When justice was administered to the lord, she hoped that she would be there to applaud.

It was a relief to finally reach Lady Bethany's estate after an endless day of riding and walking. The journey could have been shorter, but Simon preferred to take paths that avoided human habitation. After Meg's initial questions, they traveled in silence. Simon monitored their pursuers, who managed to come close to where the fugitives spent the night before they lost the track. The leader was frantic to find the escaped unicorn, but even augmented by his master's power, he failed. He would pay for that failure when Drayton returned home.