For some reason, thinking of them as an apple pie struck him as uproariously funny. She joined in, and they laughed together until they were both gasping for breath. As they relaxed, intertwined, Jean said, "Adia told me about the magical power of blending male and female energies. Remember, that's why her elders sought a couple to undertake this mission. I didn't really understand until tonight. Look!"
She gestured with her hand, and a ribbon that had fallen from her hair floated from the floor and draped itself over her palm. "Proof that the twisted pathways in my mind are now working properly. I've never been able to move solid objects. Casual magic has always been difficult." She twined the ribbon between her fingers. "Between trying to save Wilberforce and lying with you, my mental knots are gone."
He touched the ribbon, amazed. "It makes sense that the ancestors are forging us into the tools needed for our task. But it's unnerving to think that they might have been looking over our shoulders here."
"I doubt that we shocked them, the old rascals." She turned so that her back curved against his chest. She fit beautifully. "And if we did—I hope we shock them again and again!"
"I have finished listing expenses in the ledger." Adia pushed back her hair with ink-stained fingers. "Do you have other tasks for me?"
Louise shook her head. "No, you may go for your walk." She glanced at the floor. "And take that ugly beast with you."
"He comes or goes as he wills." Adia leaned over and scratched the neck of the large, scarred orange tomcat. He must have reached the island by stowing away on one of Santola's sailing ships. The island had its share of cats, useful for catching vermin, but none of the others had the swagger and arrogance of this ginger tom.
Not long after the captain and Jean vanished into time, the cat had attached himself to Adia, following her around during the day and usually sleeping on her bed at night. She called him Bruiser. The cat and Isabelle, the macaw, could spend hours in the same room without ever acknowledging the other's presence by so much as a twitched whisker or feather. "I shall see you at dinner, Louise."
"Fish stew and rice tonight. Very tasty."
"I look forward to it." Adia stood and stretched, thinking what a good friend Louise had become. The Frenchwoman had a sharp tongue but a kind heart, and she welcomed the chance to learn more about Africa. Adia had become a de facto family member, dining nightly with Louise and her children. Though Louise's husband was often at sea, he welcomed Adia like a sister when he was home.
But it was not the same as having her own family. Even her grandmother had largely faded from Adia's awareness, apart from an occasional touch of warmth. Adia supposed that was because she was now safe, free, and had accomplished her part in the great crusade to end slavery. She no longer needed Grandmother's regular encouragement and guidance. But she missed the old woman's tart, loving presence.
As she left Gregorio's house, Adia donned a broad-brimmed straw hat to protect her from the blazing midday sun. She had fallen into a comfortable way of life during her weeks on the islands. She helped Louise with the island's ledgers, worked on her journal, which was proving unexpectedly interesting, and took long walks to burn off her restlessness. She had good food, interesting work, and friends.
Her life would be almost paradise, if not for how much she missed her husband and children. When Adia left London, Molly was being courted by a handsome young Englishman whose father owned a pub. Would they marry? Would her son be accepted as a charity student at the school that would teach far more than Adia could? How was Daniel managing without her? They had thought they would live or die together. They had not considered the possibility of another endless separation.
Bruiser fell into step beside her, looking bored. She guessed that he felt it beneath his feline dignity to be seen following a human as if he was a mere dog. Or perhaps he had been a dog in another life and hadn't yet acquired the habits of catliness. Whatever his reasons, she welcomed his company and missed him when he was off on mysterious private business.
Her walks always began by heading down to the small harbor to see what was going on. She had never lived by the sea, and she enjoyed the waterside activities. Fishing boats sailed out and returned with bountiful fresh fish for the islanders. Sometimes a Santolan trading ship would be in port, loading or unloading or being refitted. Gregorio's Justice had been repaired and was at sea again.
Today the harbor was quiet. No trading ship was in port, and it was too early for the fishing boats to return. A captured Barbary corsair was being fitted into a sailing ship on the edge of the harbor, but the workers were at lunch. Behind her, she could hear the occasional shrieks of children at play, the cackles of chickens, the braying of donkeys. The sounds of paradise.
She sat on a weathered bench that overlooked the harbor, absorbing the peace and blazing heat. The summer sun reminded her of the Indies. Bruiser jumped up beside her, shaking the bench when he landed. He turned several times, then settled into a nap, his furry body pressed against her thigh.
Though she did not quite expect him, she was not surprised when Tano appeared and sat down on the side opposite the cat. She and Captain Gregorio's aide found it easy to talk. Both were well educated and had curious minds.
Both were lonely.
Tano pulled a piece of whalebone from his pocket and began to carve. "What are you working on today?" she asked.
He showed her the nearly finished carving. "Isabelle. I saw her shape in the bone and sought to free her."
"How lovely!" Adia said admiringly. Tano had captured the macaw's large head and playful expression. Every feather seemed to have been delicately etched into place.
He returned to his carving, meticulously deepening the lines around one wing. "My son will be ready for initiation soon. There are several other boys in the village who will also be ready."
"I will speak with the elders and we will choose a time." She and the other priests and priestesses had been teaching the young Africans. Though initiation could never be taken for granted, she didn't expect any of the Santolan youths to be at risk as Gregorio had been.
She had already led an initiation for several girls, and the results had been deeply satisfying. Like the boys, the girls had learned to walk between worlds. They had emerged stronger and more confident. Tano's daughter had been part of the group.
Tano rubbed his thumb over the curving bill. "Do you think our travelers will ever return?"
"I don't know." Adia felt the tightness in her chest that occurred whenever she thought about the couple she had sent off into the unknown. "I think it unlikely."
Tano nodded, sad but unsurprised. "The captain will not regret his choice if he can make a difference. The young witch is cut of similar stone. But what of you, lady? What will you do if they never return?"
"Stay here and make myself useful." She smiled mockingly. "Every village needs maiden aunts."
"You need not be alone forever," he said quietly. "You are a beautiful woman in the fullness of your life. Santola needs such women."
In his voice, she heard the unspoken offer. Tano would welcome her to his home and bed, and he was a wise, kind man. She would be lying if she said she had not noticed his interest, or wondered about what kind of mate he would be. "I have a husband. I would not betray him."
"A husband who is only a child in this year." He blew a particle of bone from the carving. "A husband you are unlikely ever to see again."
She touched the small pouch that hung under her tunic. Inside was the pathfinder stone that had once led her and Molly to Daniel. "But he exists somewhere in time."
"My wife exists somewhere in time also. If I could go back five years, she would be alive." He stared down at the carving. "But now she is gone, and she would not wish me to be alone forever. Would your husband wish that for you?"
She thought of generous, loving Daniel. "He would not. Yet we have not been apart for very long in real days. Not as long as we were separated by the American war. He is still my husband in m
y heart, and my dearest hope is that we will be reunited."
"How long will you hold to that hope?" He looked up from the carving, his dark eyes more intense than his words.
"I don't know." She and Daniel had been separated for two years in America, but she had known he was alive. This was different. "At least a year. Likely longer. But...the day may come when I can hope no more."
"Tell me when that day arrives."
"I will."
He smiled and gave her the carved macaw. She ran her fingers over the polished bone. A loop was carved in the back so that the ornament could be hung on a cord and worn around the neck. "You do beautiful work."
When she tried to hand the carving back, he gestured no. "It is for you, because you soar unlike any other woman I have ever known."
She held his gaze for a long moment. "I shall cherish this always." She cradled the carving in her hand, the bone still warm from Tano's touch. She would hang it around her neck, outside the tunic, a sign of her connections to Santola.
She no longer felt alone.
Chapter
THIRTY-FOUR
Over a dozen people had gathered in the spacious room above the tailor's shop. Jean was not surprised that the English aristocrats were on one side and the Africans on the other. She and Nikolai were in between.
The Africans, except for Kofi, were clearly nervous in the presence of the Falconers, their children, and several other Guardians. Not that Jean blamed them—they had not fared well at the hands of wealthy, influential Britons. Many of them were part of the circle of elders that had sent Adia into the past.
Despite their wariness, they had power. Between the Africans and the Guardians, the room contained enough energy to set London ablaze.
It had taken over a fortnight to arrange this meeting and decide on a location. The tailor who owned the shop was a Quaker abolitionist, and his business was located in a busy commercial area. With entrances on both ends of the building, no one was likely to notice the unusual nature of the gathering.
Falconer strolled over to Nikolai and Jean. "Wilberforce has gone to Bath to take the waters and improve his health. His recovery will be slow."
Jean nodded, unsurprised. "That's a pity, but the movement is growing. Perhaps by the time he is well again, there will be more support for his legislation."
"We will have had more time to counter the pro-slavery forces." Nikolai scanned the room, counting the number present. "Everyone is here. Time to begin."
Jean said softly, "I hope this works. What we are going to try is without precedent, I think." She wished she could ask her sister-in-law, Gwynne, the Guardian scholar, about what this group was going to attempt. Gwynne would know if such a shield had ever been created before.
Tall and commanding, Nikolai moved behind a table set at one end of the room, facing a number of chairs. Usually the chamber was used for cutting fabric, so there were other tables stacked with rolls of fabric. "Please find seats so that we may begin." Though he didn't speak loudly, years of giving orders on shipboard had produced a voice that carried easily.
When everyone was settled, he continued, "I am Nikolai Gregorio and this is Jean Macrae. We have all come here because of our mutual desire to see the end of slavery. Perhaps we should start with each of us saying who we are and why we are working for abolition. I will begin by saying I was born on Malta of mixed blood. I was raised mostly by my grandmother, a former slave who came of the Iske tribe of West Africa. As a boy, I was captured by Barbary pirates and spent years as a slave. My life since I escaped has been dedicated to combating slavery in any way I can." He nodded to the African side of the room. "Kofi, will you tell us about yourself?"
Kofi rose, whipcord lean and fit despite his years. "First I want to know why these white men are here. You trust them, but I would hear from their own lips why they wish to fight with us when most whites prefer to feed off the blood of slaves."
Simon started to rise, but Meg laid her hand on his arm and stood in his place. "Once I was a girl known as Mad Meggie," she said quietly. "I was enslaved for ten years by an evil mage who stole my will, my identity, my mind, and my power. No one should ever have to endure such servitude. I wept with happiness the day I learned there were people fighting this great evil." She sat down, face calm.
Simon rose next. "Even if my wife had not been used so ill, I believe I would be here today because, quite simply, opposing slavery is the right thing to do. All Guardians are sworn to do their best for our fellow men and women. We are human and don't always know what is right, so in general, it is our practice not to interfere in society. But on this, there can be no argument. Slavery is wrong, and we share a moral obligation to end it as soon as possible."
Kofi nodded and briefly described his own background. His tall, striking daughter Mary Andrews spoke next. "I was born free because of my father's courage, but as long as those of my blood risk being enslaved, I pledge myself to this cause."
By the time everyone in the room had spoken, the atmosphere had relaxed. When the last Guardian had introduced herself, Nikolai said, "You have all agreed to become wardens who will help to create and maintain a protective shield against the pro-slavery forces. Jean Macrae is our expert on shielding, so she will explain her proposal."
Jean took a deep breath, then rose and stood next to Nikolai. "For those of you who are unfamiliar with the energy beings created by group emotions and beliefs, they are like great dark clouds, or a flood of mud that flows and engulfs. The energy beings—spirits—are not really conscious like we are, but they have a primitive instinct that draws them to support similar energies, and to try to destroy opposing energies.
"Twice Nikolai and I have witnessed manifestations of what we call the Slave Demon spirit. In each case, a prominent abolitionist was almost killed. There are many people who share our beliefs, but the antislavery energy is less focused. We must learn to concentrate the positive power so that whenever the Demon threatens our movement, the shield will prevent it from causing harm."
"Who were the men nearly killed?" a priestess asked.
"Thomas Clarkson and William Wilberforce," she replied. Gasps filled the room.
"How will the shield work?" The speaker was Lord Buckland, Falconer's son. In his mid-thirties, he was dark-haired, quietly intelligent, and had an air of latent danger.
"I will create a binding spell that joins the positive and negative energies together. When the Demon energy manifests, the shield will strengthen to balance it."
"Why not try to destroy the pro-slavery spirit?" a young African priest asked.
"It's much easier to shield from bad effects than to eliminate the dark energy altogether," Jean replied. "I don't think the spirit can be destroyed when there are so many people supporting slavery. Their emotions are like a lake continually renewed by the rivers that flow into it. Believers will keep the Demon alive until the day comes when everyone agrees that slavery is wrong." Her remark produced wry laughter.
"You wish to protect all of Britain?" Mary Andrews asked. "That is a huge task. Beyond our abilities, I think."
"My plan was to concentrate the shield in London. Parliament is here, and ultimately the members are the men who must be persuaded to change the law," Jean said. "If our shield is effective, it will be easier for MPs to vote their consciences because we will reduce their fear of opposing wealthy West Indian planters."
"The members will also be more inclined to listen to wives and mothers," Mary said thoughtfully. "Many of the most passionate abolitionists are female."
"Perhaps because women know what it is to lack freedom." Jean and Mary shared a glance of understanding. Jean continued, "If the London shield is effective, later we can think of shielding other cities, or shielding particularly valuable members of the abolitionist movement." She halted, thinking of Wilberforce. "In fact, that's a very good idea. But London first. What we are going to attempt is unprecedented. We should proceed a single step at a time."
"How will
the shield be constructed?" The question came from the Falconers' daughter, Lady Bethany March, a young married woman. She had her father's blond hair and her mother's misleadingly otherworldly air.
"The freedom energy will be gathered and concentrated. Then a binding spell will be invoked to link it to the Demon. The shield will be maintained by the wardens who have committed to holding the energy. I think that there must always be at least two people holding the energy so that if something happens, such as one warden being struck by a carriage, the other will be able to maintain the shield."
"It would be wise to also have a backup warden whose energy will be activated if both the frontline wardens fail." Falconer frowned thoughtfully. "It will require some clever spell construction, but I'm sure it can be done." His son nodded agreement.
A young African priest asked, "How do we hold the energy?"
"It's simple, actually," Jean replied. "You imagine a line of power running from you to the shield. Then you allow some of your power to flow into the shield. Most of the time, very little power will be required, and very little attention. Once the connection is established, it will continue to flow while the warden goes about his or her usual duties. If the warden wishes to do other spell work while warding, he will have less power available, but in general, it shouldn't be a demanding task. This is a commitment that will surely last for years, though. It is vital that a schedule be developed so that the shield is never left unattended."
"There will be times when the energy draw is much greater," Nikolai said. "When the pro-slavery forces rally to suppress legislation, for example."
"Usually we should have warning, but it's not impossible that there might be an unexpected draw on everyone who is connected to the shield." Jean turned her palms upward. "I can't predict what will happen. Everyone here is a powerful adept who believes in this cause. I think we will find solutions as needed. But if anyone feels that this task is too much of a burden, feel free to leave now. There is no shame in circumstances that make such a commitment impossible."
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