Heart's Magic

by Gail Dayton

  "I won't. I will try very, very hard not to."

  "No tryin'. Do it. Or rather, don't." Harry scowled more fiercely.

  "Harry--" She lifted her hands helplessly. "I can say I won't, but I honestly don't know if I can. Should I make a promise I'm not sure I can keep?"

  He slumped against the back of the cab. "No, don't do that. But Elinor--" He let out a gust of air.

  "I know." She twisted her hands together. "I didn't tell anyone what I was doing because I knew you would try to stop me, or convince me to put it off, or--" She hid her face in her hands. "I am such an idiot! I could have damaged his mind permanently. Maybe I did. I don't think so, but he's gone. How am I to know? And what if you hadn't been there? This could have been an even greater disaster. I might still be trapped inside Nigel's mind, which is not the loveliest place to be, even if you're Nigel."

  Harry put his arm around her and tucked her head into his shoulder. "But you're not. It's all right. We'll work it out. You meant well. You just--"

  "Didn't go about it properly," Elinor finished for him with a sigh. At least it wasn't a sob.

  "I know summat about that kind o' temptation." Harry leaned his cheek against the top of her head. "I've given in to it a time or two meself. What if--can you promise me this? And I'll try to get the other magisters to promise too. If you're thinkin' on working some new magic, somethin' that's not been done before, or somethin' that might be dangerous, tell me. Or Grey or Amanusa. Or all of us. That way we can put our 'eads together and talk it out and figure a way to make it safe as possible."

  Elinor considered briefly and nodded. "I can go along with that. Provided consideration is taken for guild secrets."

  "Alchemy doesn't 'ave many of those." Harry shrugged the shoulder Elinor wasn't leaning on. "Suits me fine."

  "Sorcery seems to be nothing but secrets, for very good reasons, but wizardry doesn't have so many as that." She gave his chest a little pat and sat up straight. "All right. I will promise to tell you or Grey or Amanusa if I am considering working experimental magic."

  "I promise to do the same." Harry reluctantly took his arm from her shoulders. "I don't suppose," he said, trying to sound as if the answer didn't matter, "that since you won't marry me--" It didn't matter. Not really. "That you'd consider makin' me your familiar instead. You bein' a sorceress too, and all."

  "Harry!" She gave him a shocked look in the dim light of the hackney lantern.

  He wanted her to say yes, but he didn't expect her to. "I'm the one who told Grey he should be Pearl's familiar. I'm not goin' to back away from it for myself. Especially not now I've seen what it does for his magic. Think about it, Elinor. We're magisters of two guilds, neither one of 'em sorcery. Wouldn't the sorcery and bein' familiars power up both the wizardry and the alchemy?"

  Elinor was shaking her head. "I don't know, Harry. I'm barely a sorceress. I don't think I'm ready for--"

  "Don't say no, all right? Just think on it."

  They'd reached Harry's house. They descended from the cab. Harry paid the cabbie and escorted Elinor through the garden and up the stairs to her flat, where he kissed her good night where prying eyes couldn't see.

  "If we were married, I wouldn't 'ave to leave," he murmured, nuzzling her ear.

  "Stop it." She turned him around on the tiny landing and urged him toward the stairs. "My reasons still stand."

  "Think on the other, then." He obeyed her urging, starting down. "You know folk are goin' to think what they're goin' to think, no matter what the truth of a thing is."

  "Good night, Harry." She sounded more amused than angry.

  "Good night, Elinor."

  Nigel didn't like it here. It was cold, with water dripping slowly in the corner. The only place to sleep was a mildewed mattress laid directly on the cold, damp brick floor. He was hungry, and thirsty, and exhausted. And his hand and arm hurt abominably, throbbing and burning in alternate swells of pain.

  He sank onto the mattress cradling his injured hand and whimpered. At least here he didn't feel weighted and pinned down by the wards. They'd made his ruined hand hurt worse. And he didn't think there were rats, either. The horrible things crawling and skittering and rolling about the floor with their clockwork movements made him shudder, but they had made no move to harm him. If they drove off rats, he would learn to ignore the grotesque clicking, clanking, chittering noises they made.

  Nigel saw in a brief sweep of unclouded moonlight through a high window a gleam of something on the floor. He lurched to his feet to investigate--a tin cup. Noisome with the filth of this place, but more precious than gold coin. He cleaned it with the tail of his shirt and set it where it would catch the dripping water.

  One of the mechanical creatures lurched toward the cup. Its limbs were not equal, being made of three spoons and a fork. It reached out a pincer as if to steal the precious object and Nigel kicked it away. It flew across the room and crashed into one of the half-rotted walls. The sorry excuse for a building failed to collapse. Nor did the wall acquire a new hole, thank goodness. The machine may have lost its fork.

  "Stay away." Nigel glared at all the other machine things. "All of you. That--" he pointed at the cup, "--is mine."

  He sat back on his mattress and watched the water drip. Why was he here?

  Because he was escaping imprisonment and this seemed a good place to hide. That made sense. It was so hard to think. He needed to make plans, needed to decide what to do next, and how to do it. But he didn't know what he wanted to do or even what he should do, which was usually the factor riding his decisions. He was too tired to think, too hungry and thirsty. They had at least fed him in Holborn Tower. But the wards-- He shuddered.

  Enough water had collected in the cup for a pair of swallows. He drank it and put it back to collect more, then he curled up on the awful mattress, pulled his jacket tighter around him, and stared out into the intermittently moonlit darkness. What was he going to do now? And why did that machine have a cat's skull perched on its bony looking carapace?

  Elinor spent most of Saturday sleeping, and much of the rest of it thinking. Or trying to. Her head kept telling her that an affair with Harry was a terrible idea. And her body kept paying her mind no attention at all. It wanted what it wanted and no amount of rational, logical sense made any difference. She couldn't control it. She couldn't stop it. She couldn't ignore it either. The hum of magic in her blood only made things worse.

  So, after tea, after the early winter night had fallen, she walked across Harry's garden to the conservatory he'd given over to her care and into her stillroom. She left the door open.

  A short time later, Harry came in and closed it.

  Monday morning, Harry was still reading his newspapers over breakfast and wondering if Elinor would let him into her stillroom today. They'd spent all of Sunday afternoon in his second floor laboratory, naked. He was by now all but certain he would never get his fill of her. He needed to find a way to convince her to say yes to one or both of his propositions. He also needed to get some work done.

  They still needed to decide what to do about the armored machines. They needed to get that blasted warding wall built around the dead zone in Bermondsey. Now that Elinor had a bit of breathing space from challenges, maybe they could get that scheduled soon.

  Freeman came in with early letters just as Harry finished skimming the headlines of the last paper. Nothing in this one he wanted to read. There were two identical letters. One was addressed to Elinor, he noted, as he picked up his.

  "Is Miss Tavis in her stillroom yet?" he asked Freeman. She was often there by this time, if she hadn't been working late. A satisfied smile curved Harry's lips. When they'd left the laboratory yesterday for a late tea, Elinor hadn't had any desire for much except food and unfortunately solitary sleep.

  "Yes, sir, I believe so."

  "Leave it, then." Harry opened his envelope. "I'll take it to her."

  The knock on her stillroom door startled Elinor enough she almost slipped
off her stool. Harry opened the door and put his head in. "Busy?"

  "Harry--" Her exasperation was fond. "We simply cannot--"

  "I brought you a letter." He left the door open when he came in, which was both relief and disappointment. He handed it to her, then waggled an open letter in his other hand. "I got one too."

  "The same one? What does it say?" Elinor turned it over, but her name was written in standard clerk's copperplate, no indication of who'd sent it.

  "Read it."

  Insufferable man. She scowled at him as she opened the envelope and took out the letter.

  Magistrate Tavis, it said.

  This is to notify you that Sir William Stanwyck, Head of the Magician's Council of Great Britain, is resigning from that position effective 1 February, 1864. He suggests that the magisters of the four guilds be prepared to announce on that date, concurrent with Sir William's announcement, which of them will be elevated to take his place as council head. The replacement as magister of that guild should be announced at that time as well.

  "Oh." Elinor put her feet up on the rungs of the stool as she read the letter again, and then again. "Oh my." She looked up at Harry who stood in the open doorway. "It'll have to be you, of course."

  "Me? Why me? Why 'of course'?" He didn't look shocked or taken aback. More...curious.

  "Because you're the only reasonable choice." She tucked her letter in her pocket as she slipped off the stool. "Come on, let's go meet with Grey and Amanusa and get things decided."

  They encountered Grey and Pearl in the street, crossing it to see them. Amanusa and Jax were in the lobby of Brown's on their way out when the others arrived. They went back upstairs to the Greysons' sitting room.

  "Have you found a house yet?" Elinor asked as they all trooped into the parlor.

  "We think so. It's on Bolton Street, on the other side of Devonshire House from here. It won't be so convenient for us to meet, but there's nothing available on Albemarle or Grafton Streets." Amanusa rang for tea even though breakfast was scarcely over before sinking gracefully into one of the chairs.

  "So--" Grey posed in front of the fireplace. "Who is going to get stuck with being council head come Monday next?"

  "Well, it can't be me," Amanusa said. "Or Elinor. We've scarcely got the council to admit that women can be qualified magicians. They're not happy to have Elinor as head of a guild. If a women becomes council head, all of the magicians in England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales will rise up in rebellion."

  "You do it, Harry," Grey said.

  "Why?" Harry stared out the window as he repeated the question he'd asked Elinor.

  "Because I don't want it, and you do."

  Elinor watched for his reaction to the blatant accusation. He sighed and turned back to face them, shoving back the sides of his coat to prop his hands on his hips in his customary stance. "All right," he said. "Suppose I do. But why should I be the one to get it? Something besides 'It's got to be a man, an' I'm the only one willing.'"

  "I have too much to do as it is," Grey said. "I've got I-Branch, and I'm no good at organization. I can barely manage that office along with conjurer's guild, and the whole council's heaps and piles more work. Besides, you'll need me in I-Branch."

  "You're a leader, Harry," Elinor said. Why didn't anyone else see it? "You know what needs to be done and can get things arranged to make sure that it is done. Look what you've done with your dead-zone committee. Do you think anything would be happening there if you hadn't made it happen?"

  Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "I can't say as I don't see the advantages of me takin' over. But--"

  He took a deep breath and let it out. "Face it. I'm gutter trash. Born within the sound of the Bow Bells to a mother as couldn't swear for sure who me father was. Yeah, alchemists accepted me as magister. They didn't 'ave much choice. But there's plenty that still sneer--to my face, not just behind my back. Even if they do what I say. But this?"

  He gestured at Grey. "Here's a duke's son, standin' right there in front of us. They're gonna want him for council head--just see if they don't."

  "Black sheep." Grey waved a hand along himself to remind them of what didn't need reminding. "Frivolous. Flighty."

  Harry snorted. "Like anyone believes that any more, after 'ow you built up Briganti Investigations Branch."

  "Which is where I belong."

  "True." Harry puffed out another breath of air. "You all agree?" He looked at Amanusa, who nodded, and at Elinor.

  "I told you it should be you the instant I read the letter." She smiled brightly at him. "Even if I thought the council would accept a female council head, it shouldn't be me. I'm too...distractible. Too prone to get lost in my stillroom."

  "That's true as well." Harry's hands were back on his hips. "What about you two? Pearl? Jax? Wot do you think?"

  "You're the only sensible choice," Pearl said.

  "I agree." Jax nodded from his post behind Amanusa.

  "All right, then. Just--know it won't be easy, convincing the council." Harry shook his head.

  "It's not the council's decision," Grey said. "It's ours. The head of council is always chosen from among the guild magisters by the guild magisters. The membership does not have a vote."

  "But they 'ave ways of makin' their displeasure known."

  Grey waved a dismissive hand. "We can manage it. We are the magisters, are we not? Which means we are more powerful magicians than any of the others. In addition, I am familiar to the second most powerful sorcerer, which makes me more powerful. And it turns out that Elinor has sorcerous talent as well. You should make Harry your familiar, Elinor. We could handle any revolt then."

  Now Grey was urging it too? Elinor ignored him, except for a sour look. He wasn't serious. "If you become council head, Harry, who does that make magister for the alchemist's guild? Hopefully it's someone we can work with."

  Harry frowned. "I'm not exactly sure. There's three or four at about that same level. Vernon's getting up in age--around 60, I think. Ian Ramsay's good, but I think Thom Norwood's better, for all he's so young."

  "How old is Norwood?" Amanusa asked.

  "Might be 30, but I don't think so. Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thereabouts."

  "So he's bound to get better than he already is, isn't he?" Grey nodded in satisfaction. "And Norwood isn't really 'one of us,' so we can't be accused of 'cronyism.' He's an Enforcer, not I-Branch. He wasn't in academy class with either of us. He's not any too sure about women as magicians, but he's fair-minded. He'll come round, I think." Grey nodded again. "He'll do. Nicely."

  The others agreed, so by the time tea arrived, it was all decided.

  Wednesday morning at 11 o'clock, Elinor knocked on the front door of the wizard's guild hall not far from Covent Garden. It was time she paid a visit. She was the guild's magister, after all.

  When the guild hall had been built and Covent Garden had been an actual monastery garden, the wizards had grown many of their herbs there, until Henry VIII abolished all the convents and took over the property. Jax remembered the event. When it became a market in the 1600s, the wizards once again obtained their herbs there. The hall was the original building, untouched by any of London's great fires and, Elinor thought, never remodeled since it was built. Medieval environs must have led to medieval attitudes.

  Elinor had mentioned her intention to Amanusa the previous evening, as she had promised Harry. The problem was that magicians of one guild did not enter the hall of another guild. No one was sure whether that was an actual rule in the council charter or simply something that "wasn't done." They had the clerks of all four guilds researching the matter, but they hadn't finished and Elinor didn't want to wait. Who knew how long it would take them to find anything?

  She wanted to establish her authority now, before Harry became council head and people could mutter that she was standing behind his wand. However, she didn't think going it completely alone would be wise. She looked over her shoulder at Amanusa and Jax, Grey and Harry waiting
across the street. Pearl had stayed behind to cover their classes. Elinor wanted witnesses who would raise the alarm if she didn't come out within a reasonable time.

  The guild hall door opened. A tall man with a whisper of dark hair ringing his head and a long narrow nose looked down it at her. "This," he said, "is the wizard's guild hall. No females allowed." And the door shut again before Elinor could say a word.

  She turned and raised her hands in a helpless gesture at the other magisters who strolled over to join her. "Now what?"

  "Knock again." Harry used the brass head of his walking stick to do just that, to booming effect.

  The door was opened a little more promptly this time. The butler, for he could be no one else, peered down at the four magisters, plus Jax.

  "Do you 'appen to know who we are?" Harry thunked his stick on the ground for emphasis.

  "I know who you are not," the butler retorted. "You are not wizards. Only wizards allowed." The door closed more forcefully this time and locks turned.

  "Actually--" Grey spoke up. "That isn't true. Our clerks have finished their reading. I have been informed that nowhere in the charter or any of the rules agreed upon since does it say that magicians may not enter the hall of another guild." He paused, listening to whatever spirit was reporting. "Furthermore, it is specifically permitted--perhaps even required--in cases of disputations or illegal behavior and upon agreement of the magisters of the four guilds, for the four of us to enter the guild hall and clear up the difficulty. Aided, if necessary, by the Briganti."

  Harry's grin was positively feral. "And if we fetch Thom Norwood to 'ead up the Briganti you take in with you, we'll 'ave the future magister along for the trip."

  "Have you mentioned the promotion to him yet?" Elinor asked.