Light in the Darkness

by CJ Brightley

  It had begun. The Mage Guardians were real. They knew, or would know soon. They had invoked the compact, and she had to respond.

  Dominic walked carefully up the path from his cottage, exhausted but quite pleased with his outing. He had everything he needed now, and as soon as he let Ardhuin know he was back safely he was going to collapse. He wouldn’t tell her she had been right, of course, but he would never have made it without Michel’s assistance.

  She wasn’t visible in the library window. He was going to have to go all the way around to the front, then, unless by some chance she was in the kitchen. He peered in the glass panes of the door.

  His hand touched the surface. Dominic moved back, and saw the wards flow back in place. He reached for the handle, and like a soap bubble, the wards opened for him. Something was wrong.

  He yanked the door open and ran inside, calling her name. “Ardhuin! Where are you?”

  No response. Fear propelled him up the stairs, fatigue forgotten. At first he thought the library was empty, but then he saw a fold of indigo silk, the color of the dress she had been wearing earlier that day, hanging from the edge of one of the large chairs.

  Ardhuin was curled up in the chair, face hidden in her arms, her bright red hair streaming down her shoulders. The fire had gone out, and the room was chilly. She clutched a crumpled letter in one hand.

  “Ardhuin! Speak to me, tell me what’s wrong! I went right through the wards!”

  She looked up at that, blinking at him, and his terror abated. At least she appeared to be unhurt. He saw a tendril of magic leap up and away from her.

  “Y-you were inside when I l-last cast the wards,” she managed to say. “They recognize you. They are still there.” She stared at him. “You were not gone very long.”

  Dominic pointed to the library window, where the light was starting to fade. He stepped closer, still concerned, and heard the crunch of china under his feet. Shards of a teacup were scattered in a pool of tea.

  “Did you receive bad news?” he asked hesitantly, indicating the letter. She shook her head, then nodded, her face crumpling. She dropped her head into her hands.

  “Ardhuin, please talk to me.” He grasped her shoulders, shaking her, and she looked up again, her storm-colored eyes red. The misery he saw there was more than he could stand, and without thinking, he found himself holding her close, smoothing her hair and saying inanely, “It will be all right, don’t worry.”

  It seemed to work, at least to the point that she gave a shuddering sigh and relaxed against him. He let the jolt of happiness go unquestioned for a moment, then went back to the matter at hand.

  “What happened?”

  Ardhuin shifted her head on his shoulder. “It’s a letter that…I have to help someone. A promise I inherited from my great-uncle. But he was supposed to explain to them before I—”

  “This is a magical obligation?”

  He felt her nod.

  “I can imagine it will be difficult to convince them you are a magician. It took a lot to convince me.” He pulled back just enough so he could see her face and smiled reassuringly. “Can’t you simply tell them that you are a woman and see if they still hold you to this promise?”

  Ardhuin shook her head. “It’s a very serious promise. I can’t tell you all of it. It’s not my secret, and I don’t know what I can tell you that won’t put you in danger too.”

  He stiffened and stared at her. “Danger? How?”

  “I think…someone is trying to kill me,” she said, reluctantly. She winced, and he released his suddenly intense grip with a muttered oath.

  “They want to kill you because you are a woman magician? Why? Who would do such a thing?”

  “I don’t know who, Dominic! That’s why I try to hide my magic, why I did all those things to you. I was afraid you worked for them and were trying to find me. As long as they think I can’t do any magic, I’m safe.”

  He shook his head sharply, trying to think his way through. “I don’t understand. They are looking for someone, but they don’t know who it is? How do you know they are looking for you?”

  Ardhuin sighed. “There have been severe magical attacks against this house. That’s why I have such strong wards. They are trying to kill the heir of Oron. My great-uncle tried to warn me, before he died…but even he didn’t know who they were.”

  “Why not go to the police? Get help?”

  She laughed, sharply and without humor. “And how would I convince them I had any notion of what I was talking about, save by doing magic? I don’t have a license! Not to mention word would get out that I have the ability, which I dare not allow. Besides, they don’t have any royal magicians in Baranton; they’d have to send for help. I’d know more about it than any of them, anyway.”

  Dominic thought for a moment. “Is your letter connected to this?”

  “To the attacks? I don’t think so,” she said, looking doubtful. “It’s from someone I knew at school. She’s with the Preusan court now, and she somehow knows about…the thing I am. What my great-uncle was. She doesn’t know I’m the heir—at least I think she doesn’t. It was always hard to tell what she was thinking,” Ardhuin added, frowning. “But she invoked the…said Oron had to do something, which means I have to do something. I don’t even speak Preusan!” She threw up her hands, and Dominic rocked back on his heels. “How can I go there? They won’t believe I’m the heir. And what if Mother finds out? She’ll put me in a convent, or make me stay with Aunt Sophronia, or—”

  Dominic kissed her. Ardhuin stared at him, stunned and unable to speak.

  “If she puts you in a convent, I am sure you can levitate above the walls and turn the Mother Superior into a frog if needed,” he said, smiling at her with affection. As she continued to stare, he could feel his face heat. “You were becoming somewhat agitated.”

  “That is your idea of a calming gesture?” Ardhuin sputtered. “And animal transformations are incredibly difficult, despite what people think. You have to change everything at once,” she added. “Correctly. Or they die.”

  “Oh.” He rubbed his chin. “No frogs, then.”

  “No frogs,” she agreed, with a shaky laugh.

  “You know, if you need the help of magicians, perhaps your friend can assist you,” Dominic said, indicating the letter. “She appears to know about your great-uncle’s abilities and connections.”

  Ardhuin’s face cleared, and she started to look more cheerful. Dominic clasped her hands firmly in his own and stood up. “I’ll return shortly, just as soon as I get my things together. I’m staying here,” he explained when she gave him a puzzled look.

  “But…I thought you were going back to your house,” Ardhuin said slowly.

  “That was before you told me someone was trying to kill you,” Dominic said, feeling grim. “I’ll stay in the cellar if you want, but I’m not leaving unless you force me to.”

  “Ah, it’s the brandy you are worried about,” Ardhuin said, trying to smile.

  “Write to your friend—or better yet, send a telegraph. That will be quicker. We’ll have to wait for morning anyway.” He looked out the window to the darkness.

  A troubled expression crossed her face. “You never considered that I might just be imagining things.”

  “I could tell from the moment I met you that you were very afraid of something,” Dominic said. If she, with all her magic, was afraid, he ought to be terrified. Somehow, that was unimportant.

  6

  Dominic crunched his way over the snow-crusted ground, wishing that the late Yves Morlais had left some sturdy boots in the attic along with the overcoat. It wasn’t as cold as it had been, but now there was snow thanks to the previous day’s storm. It had delayed the planned trip to town by a day.

  Ardhuin had been not been happy about the storm, or his decision to send the telegram himself. Strangely, she had not argued—but he could sense her unhappiness, revealed in little flashes of irritability.

  He felt for the mes
sage she had given him, cryptic enough to have meaning only for the friend who had written to her. He certainly didn’t understand it. The slip of paper was still in his coat pocket, and he relaxed.

  The morning was beautiful, with frost and snow glinting in the pale light and mist like the breath of the earth rising from the white ground. Dominic saw hoofprints but no sign of a cart on the road’s snowy surface. Taking the road was longer than traveling across the fields, but he didn’t want to risk the shorter route when he had no idea how much snow would impede him.

  How unreal the mist was, winding through the bare trees. Dominic took a deep breath, enjoying the sharp coldness of the air.

  A light breeze ruffled a dead leaf on the ground and disturbed the mist that obscured the road ahead. A stab of fear made Dominic stop. Now he could see faint strands of magic crossing the road like a spiderweb between two stands of trees.

  He moved a few steps closer. The web completely blocked the road, but he could easily bypass it by stepping off the road itself. He could, because he could see it. Anyone else would go through.

  And what would happen then? What was the web’s purpose? If he were doing such a thing, invisible to all but himself, it would not be to block the road. That would make no sense. It might, however, be a way to tell if someone had passed.

  The hoofprints continued on down the road, past the web. Either the horse and rider had gone through before it was put up, or the web was looking for someone in particular. Dominic considered going through himself, just to see what would happen, but decided against it. After his recent indisposition, he did not know what his sensitivity was.

  He glanced to either side of the road. The bare trees did not offer much in the way of concealment. Whoever built the web must have some other way of knowing when the trap was sprung.

  Dominic turned and retraced his steps. He would try the other, longer road to Baranton. Trap. Why had he used that term? Well, what other purpose could such a thing be put to? Perhaps he was unreasonably paranoid after Ardhuin’s letter and revelation of danger.

  The other road also had a web. It had to use a fencepost on one side and was more uneven, but it still blocked the road. A vehicle could not leave her house without meeting one of the webs.

  Half-running, Dominic made a tour of the path to his cottage, and around the garden walls and carriage house. No webs.

  He went inside the house, still marveling at how the wards flowed around him, and found Ardhuin.

  She heard him out with a thoughtful frown. “Were they there when you went with Michel?”

  He shook his head. “I could have gone around them, but I didn’t know what else might be ahead. It’s strange they didn’t place them closer to your house, though, if they are looking for you.”

  “It is considered very dangerous to work offensive magic on a magician’s home ground,” Ardhuin said in a quiet voice. “They usually have many defenses in place, and attempting to find them could also alert the magician. I’ve set some traps myself,” she added, with a quick grin. “They haven’t been stupid enough to trigger them, though.”

  “A pity,” Dominic said. “I wonder why are they doing this now? They suspect this house, clearly, but why have they waited to take direct action?”

  Ardhuin collapsed into a chair, slouching down in her favorite thinking position. “It must be connected to the reason Gutrune wrote to me. Preusa’s worried about something, and these people don’t want me interfering with it.” She sat up with a jerk, looking frightened. “The letter arrived only two days ago! Can they have known Gutrune was sending it?”

  “It is possible,” Dominic said, trying to evaluate the ramifications of Ardhuin’s careless expression Preusa’s worried about something. It made it sound as if this were a problem with political origins. No wonder she was distressed. “We really don’t have enough information. If this problem came up suddenly, both sides could have taken action at the same time without knowing the other’s plans.”

  “Coincidence, you mean.” She sat back again and gave him a thoughtful glance. “Very well, we can’t know if they are connected. My unknown adversaries appear to wish to keep me from going to Preusa. What do they think I would find there that would hinder them?”

  Dominic held up the telegram message. “What you were seeking with this. More information, and assistance. Perhaps we should go to Preusa in person. If they are watching, any message we send might be intercepted.”

  Ardhuin shrank down in her chair, looking unhappy. “Go there?”

  “Yes, of course. It is a long way to a cold place, but I don’t see much alternative, do you?”

  Her long fingers wrapped and twisted around each other. “I can’t—I don’t like to travel. They will all be strangers there except for Gutrune, and besides, I don’t speak any Preusan. It would be better for them to come here, anyway, and—”

  “I speak Preusan,” Dominic interrupted. “Benefit of a university education. Pray make use of it.”

  “You’re not coming with me!” Ardhuin cried, her face full of horror.

  “But—”

  “They’re only after me! You have no reason to be concerned in any of this.”

  “If they are after you, I have a very good reason to be concerned,” Dominic protested. “And I’m already involved,” he pointed out, seeing her still-troubled expression. “For all we know, they’ve seen me here. I can help you. Why won’t you let me?”

  “I have already harmed you enough,” Ardhuin said so faintly he could barely hear her. “If—if I go to Preusa and get help, will that content you? Will you leave then? It would be too dangerous here without someone to renew the wards.”

  “No, I am not going to abandon you when you are still being threatened,” Dominic said, irritated. “Do you really have such a low opinion of me? That I would run away just when you need help?”

  Ardhuin clasped her hands together and gazed down at them. “I’m afraid for you. I’d feel terrible if anything happened to you because of me.” She was silent for a moment, then continued with great reluctance, as if the words were dragged out of her. “I know you are already involved. I just didn’t want to…make you do anything you didn’t want to do.”

  “I understand, and I do want to help you—so now that we’ve taken care of that little formality, what do we do next? How are we going to get to Preusa without alerting anyone?”

  Ardhuin sighed and rubbed at her face. “There are mules less stubborn than you,” she grumbled. Dominic said nothing, suspecting that she had acquiesced to the idea of the trip and his company. He did not want to change this promising beginning. “The road to town is too busy for the spells to be looking at everything. I imagine regular baggage would escape notice. We can have Michel pick up anything too heavy for us to carry and take it to the station ahead of time.”

  “And we can go on foot across the fields, avoiding the detection spells.”

  Ardhuin shifted. “I can. You should go the way you usually do. The farther I get from the house, the more likely they can detect me. I will go another way, over Ankou’s Bones. We can meet in town.”

  Dominic suppressed a shudder, thinking of the dark hill. “Why?”

  She stared at him. “You saw how magic works there. No detection web would last a minute in that environment, and any scrying strong enough to get through, I would notice. They won’t be that careless. I’ll go at night, too. They’ll never see me, even if they are watching.”

  “No.” Dominic found himself standing in front of her, glaring down. “Absolutely not. It’s too dangerous.”

  “But any other way they could find me,” Ardhuin protested.

  “You are not going up there alone, especially at night.”

  Now she was standing too, and since she was taller she was glaring down at him. “Are you mad? It took over a month for you to recover from your last visit!”

  “The point to this exercise is to get both of us, alive, to Preusa,” Dominic said, temper fraying. “
How do you think I would feel if you fell in one of those open pits and hit your head, with no one about to even know you needed help? We should stay together.”

  Ardhuin compressed her lips together, breathing heavily, then turned and went to the library window. She stood there for some time, saying nothing, looking out at the garden. Dominic walked over to her.

  “I don’t understand how you can even consider exposing yourself to the ley lines again,” she said. She didn’t sound angry, and he felt a surge of relief. She sounded simply puzzled.

  “It is a risk,” admitted Dominic. It puzzled him that he was so adamant. “We were up on the hill almost two hours, as I recall.”

  “More,” Ardhuin said, grimacing. “You were not noticing things very well at the end.”

  Dominic waved this away. “My point being, I was exposed for a considerable time. If we move quickly over the shortest path, how long would it take?”

  A quick flash of a smile. “Less than two hours. But we’ll have to skip the picnic,” she said mournfully.

  Dominic laughed. “Another time, perhaps. Do you agree?”

  Ardhuin looked out the window again and sighed. “I still don’t like it. But I suppose there are no good choices here.”

  They packed. Dominic had very little, but Ardhuin had several books, and leather cases in strange shapes. They pulled down two big trunks from the storage room. After a careful scrying, Ardhuin used magic to move them to the port-cochère.

  She insisted on waiting another two days, which brought them to the dark of the moon. They left the house well after midnight, carrying the luggage Ardhuin deemed too valuable or magical to risk to the carter.

  “This way,” Ardhuin whispered. She led the way in the darkness past the now-empty plinths of the marble statues and into the circular enclosure beyond.

  She put down her bag and stepped over to the strange sundial in the middle.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, in the same low tone she had used.

  “If I can get this to work, it will make things much easier for you. It’s a ley line observatory.”