by Eden Reign
This soft reminder destroyed Manda’s final reservation. Grey. She had to protect Grey, no matter what. She nodded miserably.
“Where shall I go?” she asked, swallowing her tears and wiping away the wet traces on her cheeks. She squared her shoulders and met Jackson’s quiet gaze.
“Manda—”
“You’re right, Jackson. I need to take Grey from here, and I need to find a safe place for him.” Her misery only slipped through when her voice shook on the last word.
Jackson stood and donned his shirt, buttoning it carefully before tucking it into his breeches. “Have you any place you could go from your life before the orphanage? Somewhere even Mrs. Hurley wouldn’t know? You have to be untraceable.”
Manda searched her past. Simon—her stepfather—had been unbearable. His home was not an option, but the old cottage where Manda had lived as a young child on the edge of the Nanu Territory had belonged to Manda’s real father, Nathaniel Cutter—a man with enough Nanukata blood that the tribes permitted him a small portion on their unused lands, though far from their central lakeside havens. He had died when she was eight years old. They had lived as a family in the tiny cottage outside of Sweetwater until Nathaniel’s sudden and mysterious death. Eve, Manda’s mother, had never discussed it, and after she had remarried to Simon Dunne, she had forbidden Manda from speaking of Nathaniel or Sweetwater or the Nanu Territory at all.
“There’s a cottage—the cottage near the Crossroads of the Nanu Territory that belonged to my father—my real father,” Manda said. “It’s unlikely to be inhabited, as it stands on Nanu Territory, but the Nanu only live near their lake these days. The cabin is near Sweetwater. I lived there when I was young.”
“Sweetwater? That’s a mundane village, right?”
Manda didn’t answer.
Jackson nodded. “Then take him there, keeping away from the mundanes if you can. Keep him hidden and safe. I know you can—your magic is well capable of doing so. I’ll come to see you as soon as I can.”
“Will you?” Manda asked. She couldn’t steady her voice. Already, dread of leaving him spiked deep inside her. The cottage seemed like such a distant, unreal memory.
His eyebrows arched as he gathered her in his arms. “Will I? Manda Rivers, try to stop me.” He kissed her, and his touch answered every ounce of passion she held for him.
Chapter 23
Jackson
An unsettling stillness had fallen over Coalhaven. The morning after Manda and Grey had departed, the entire house felt hollow, and Jackson lay abed well after sunrise despite the fact that he ought to work on his plans for the day. He needed to protect Coalhaven from Daniel Lake—or whoever else the Blazens brought in for support. He saw again Leah Blazen’s angry face, twisted and flushed with emotion, as she’d said, It would be terrible if word got out about the boy. Especially to Daniel Lake.
The evil witch. Daniel Lake coming to Coalhaven was the last thing Jackson needed. As he rose and dressed, Jackson studied his right wrist, thankful beyond words that all trace of Leah Blazen’s magemark was gone. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for the one on his back, which this morning had coiled all the way around his torso like a belt, and was sending licks of black and red toward his chest. Combined with the pocketwatch, if Daniel Lake ever saw the magemark, he’d have all the proof he needed that Jackson had been both the bomber of the Brotherhood Headquarters and the killer of Henry Coal. Jackson hastily covered the vile thing with shirt, waistcoat, and jacket, and headed downstairs.
“Good morning, Master Coal.” Miss Westerly was setting out a breakfast of biscuits, salted ham, eggs, and bacon. Jackson took his seat at the table, trying to ignore the gaping emptiness that yawned inside him. Manda and Grey had made mornings bearable amid the downward spiral of his life as the fatal reality of the magemark had set in. More than bearable. They had filled his days with laughter and light. Alone, he was apt to brood.
Mr. Stone came in, carrying the news-sheets freshly delivered from Savana and carefully ironed. “Master Coal.” He offered up the papers with a formal bow.
“Stone,” Jackson said as he took the papers. “How often do you make use of your power?”
Mr. Stone paused in the doorway of the breakfast room. “Rarely, Master Coal. There has been little reason to, since I came to Coalhaven. The only spellwork I’ve done lately was sequestering Miss Blazen until you could handle her.”
“And what did you do before coming to Coalhaven? As a Nanu, you did not serve in the war, correct? The tribes did not involve themselves in the conflict.”
Mr. Stone shifted his weight from one foot to another. “Correct. My people are reluctant to engage in warfare. I … worked at a house outside of Chalton, overlooking Somner Bay. Belle Breezes, it was called. As I told you during our interview, Master Coal.”
Jackson set down his coffee and rose to his feet. He liked Alexander Stone, despite the man’s reticence about his past. “Come with me. I may need your help.” Jackson led Stone out the front door and past the fountain. “Daniel Lake’s country property, Lakewood, borders on Coalhaven’s north side. He has been making certain threats. Threats to Coalhaven, threats to me, and threats to Grey. I do not wish him on the property, and I’d like to create a protective boundary around my developed land. It will take too long to go all the way around the undeveloped acreage to the northwest. The north field, here,” Jackson gestured up the slope, “is strong in the Eternal Tree.”
“Of course,” Mr. Stone replied. “North roots earth, east flows sea, south burns flame, and west blows wind. Every mage child learns it, even we Nanukata.” He smiled wryly.
“Have you made boundary spells before, Mr. Stone?”
“Yes, sir. In my youth I received training in such spellwork.”
“Good. I want one—powered by the Eternal Tree—running from the eastern end of the north field, which is marked by that row of coffee shrubs. Cut across the entrance to my undeveloped lands on the northwest corner and go all the way to that lone live oak, there. Can you do it?”
Mr. Stone studied the property, his back straight, a look of purpose in his face. “Yes, sir. I can do it.”
“Excellent.” Jackson nodded to the man. “My plan is to do the same on the southern boundary of the plantation. For the west—”
“You could have Miss Westerly make one there.”
“Rose Westerly? She is young. What experience could she have?”
“What alternative do you have?” Stone asked, lifting a brow. “The only two airmages on the property are Miss Westerly and Abigail. They are both young and inexperienced, but airmages are not so common as earthmages.”
Jackson did not like his options. He felt confident in Mr. Stone to make the northern protection, sensing a strong but latent power in the butler, as yet unacknowledged. Mr. Stone was more than capable, but the maids were untried.
Both young women were out on the verandah at the moment, sweeping. Jackson waved, gesturing for them both to come down to the fountain. He couldn’t afford to be picky. He didn’t have the time or the resources.
Miss Westerly, the Akwa cook, gave a curtsey bob as she arrived, smoothing her apron. Abigail leaned the broom against the house and folded her arms over her chest, lifting her chin, her gaze openly challenging. Jackson made a mental note to keep a closer eye on the maid.
“Do either of you have experience with boundary wards?” Jackson asked in his usual blunt way.
“No, sir,” Miss Westerly said. “Well, I mean, I know how to do a warning snapper, and I understand the principles for a full-blown ward, but I’ve never had to make one.”
“I have,” Abigail said, smirking. “Master Coal—the previous Master Coal—made sure we all knew how to do a decent boundary ward. In case Coalhaven needed emergency protection during the war. Never had to use them, though.”
A long silence followed this remark. Tension curled over Jackson’s shoulders at the reminder that this maid had worked for his father. He studi
ed her, her tight blonde ringlets arranged in an impractical style, her upturned nose, her audacious expression. In contrast, Miss Westerly stood demurely, her hands clasped in front of her.
“The two of you will make a line of boundary wards along the western property line together,” Jackson announced, hoping Miss Westerly would keep Abigail in line. “This is your main priority today, ladies.”
Miss Westerly gave another quick bob. “Very good, Master. We’ll begin now.” She and Abigail departed toward the western boundary.
“If you would check their work when they are through, Stone, I would much appreciate it. I’m not sure I trust Abigail Windham to do her best work on my behalf, and Miss Westerly might not see if a ward isn’t up to standard.”
“Of course, sir. But what will you do about the eastern shore?” Mr. Stone asked.
Jackson’s stomach dropped as, for an instant, Lige’s name curled his tongue. In the past, had he need of a watermage, Lige had been his man.
“I’ll look into it,” Jackson said. “I can set up fire-wards there, too, I suppose. They won’t be as strong, but I hope they’ll repel Daniel Lake long enough until I can get to him, if he comes by sea.”
Mr. Stone frowned. “Fire is weak in the east, Master Coal. What about—Miss Rivers? I know she doesn’t like to use her magic in front of us, but—”
“I’ve sent Grey away with Man—Miss Rivers. They’re both gone. For their own safety.”
“Is Daniel Lake coming for Grey again?” Mr. Stone’s normally placid expression tightened.
“No, Stone. This time, he’ll be coming for me.” Jackson smiled grimly, leaving the butler to make his way up the northern slope alone, and turned south, heading for where Coalhaven’s drive emptied out onto Savana’s northern pike.
The trouble with a boundary ward was that it took time, particularly a fire boundary, as Jackson had to take great care not to ignite the surrounding grasses and shrubberies as he worked, setting the latent fire-wards in a painstakingly-connected line from one edge of the property all the way down to the shore at Briary Beach. He’d only just made it to the main drive along the western side of the south perimeter when the gallop of a horse’s hooves thundered on gravel. He hadn’t even had a chance to begin on the eastern shore, and a significant stretch of land still spread from the endpoint of his existing wards to the beach. “Blazing Fires,” he cursed. He had not anticipated Daniel’s arrival so soon.
He barreled toward the still-unprotected entrance to the drive, but Daniel, mounted and moving fast, passed onto the property before Jackson could block him.
Daniel’s eighteen-hand thoroughbred horse pulled up as Jackson tore onto the drive.
“Whoa, whoa!” yelled Daniel as the horse reared. Daniel barely managed to keep his seat, but he wheeled the animal around to absorb its momentum. “Jackson,” he snarled, “you lied to me.”
Jackson already held two rounds of fire in his palms. He kept his body angled toward Daniel and his horse. “Get off my estate, Lake. Come any farther, and I will throw fire. You are trespassing.”
Daniel Lake sneered down from his steed. He looked unkempt, with his shirtsleeves sticking out from his coat and his neckcloth rumpled and twisted. “I have come for my bastard grandson. The one you told me did not exist.” He fisted his reins in one hand and pulled a sheet of paper from his coat, waving it fiercely. “I have a warrant to search Coalhaven for the creature, signed by Judge Horace Wood.”
“The creature? The creature?” Jackson’s voice was deadly low. “The only creature here is you. And you may have a warrant, Master Lake, but you have no proof that any child—who may or may not be residing at Coalhaven—is in any way related to you.” He snapped his hand, and a spark flashed, igniting the paper in Daniel’s hand. The paper combusted into a fireball of orange flame and indigo smoke.
“Why you—you lawless cretin!” roared Daniel, dropping the destroyed warrant before it could burn his hand. “Never mind that. I have testimony!” Daniel’s horse snorted, stamped, and danced in a circle, echoing his anger.
Jackson stood steadfast in his path, blocking the way with his body. “What testimony?”
“Leah Blazen’s. She came to me at Lakewood on her way back to Blazenfields and told me she had witnessed a halfbreed child here. And that the creature had been permitted to perform magic, nearly causing her bodily injury. I will have the boy, Jackson, or I will take what I know of you—and your father’s death—directly back to Judge Wood.”
Jackson’s face tightened into a threatening scowl too similar to the one he’d seen so often on Henry’s face. He loathed Leah Blazen. By the Wells, how he loathed her. “If such a child existed, it might well be mine. Just as you have no evidence of any issue from Lige and Jenifer’s marriage, Lake, you have no evidence of any foul play between myself and my father. None whatsoever.”
“I know what I saw! I know Henry Coal had that timepiece on him the day he died. I saw it with my own eyes, only an hour before the explosion. And I know your little trollop—your upstart Miss Melanie Rivers, if that is truly her name—had it on her person on the day of the indigo inspection. Only you, Jackson Coal, would allow your mistress to cavort on your estate on the same day the four most notable mages in Arcana visited. Why I ever encouraged a friendship between you and my son, I don’t know.”
The words stung, but Jackson pushed them aside. “An accusation is not evidence, Master Lake. It will be your word against mine, and I assure you, I can provide an alibi for my whereabouts on the day of the Chalton attack that killed my father. Besides, I was told by the investigator that it was a powerful attack of water that blew the place. One wonders if you have an alibi yourself, given your insistence you were with Henry so near to his death.” Jackson had made sure to secure a cover story from one of the double agents saved by his and Lige’s retrieval of the list. “In short, Daniel, you have nothing. Nothing but a warrant to search for a child who is not here and does not exist.” Jackson was pushing the man past his limit. Good. He wanted a fight.
Daniel Lake’s rage unfurled in a smooth, liquid flow from the east. Salty, lukewarm seawater surged in a tide-like mass, coming right up over the thin, visible strip of beach in the distance. But as was typical, Daniel toyed with him. The watermage did not let his water cross over the property boundaries onto the indigo fields, even though he could have. He meant to use his water to manipulate, not to destroy.
“You have an indigo field there, Jackson. Fine, hardy plants they are, too. How would like me to wipe out a quarter of your crop?”
Jackson’s fury swelled, heating the fire in his hands. Smoke rose from the grasses around his feet. If he lost a quarter of Coalhaven’s crop, all the delicate arrangements he’d made with his croppers would fall apart, all the alliances he’d formed, the fragile trust he’d been building with the workers—gone. They’d all be ruined by the financial loss.
Fire was weak against water, just as water was weak to earth, earth to air, and air to fire. It was a balanced square, which Jackson had learned to exploit in the war. He’d also learned how best to minimize his weakness: by fighting the mage rather than the element. He threw a round of flame directly at Daniel Lake’s mount. The animal screamed and lurched, but Daniel moved as though part of the horse himself, pulling a stream of water from the Eternal Ocean to stifle Jackson’s flame. He lifted another stream, holding it at the ready, a wicked smile twisting his face. “The boy, Jackson. Bring him to me now, and I’ll save your crop.”
“He isn’t here,” Jackson bit out. “Search if you must.”
Daniel glowered at him. “Not here, but he exists, and I will destroy him!”
“Never!” Jackson shouted, rage boiling up inside him. “You coward, threatening children! You can’t see true worth when it’s right in front of you. You never recognized Lige’s worth; you were so blinded by your own bigotry that you never even knew he fought for four years against you as a spy for the Levelers!”
Daniel’s gaze tu
rned to ice, his face to granite. “My son would not betray me; blood runs thicker than water, Jackson Coal!” But traitorous doubt sliced through the man’s expression.
Jackson shrugged. “Believe me or not, Lige was more of a man than you’ll ever be. He stood up for those who couldn’t stand on their own. That’s more than you will ever do.”
Daniel’s face was red. Sweat glistened on his forehead. “Next time I’ll get more out of you, Jackson. And in the meantime, know I will be training all my power and my efforts to discover where you’ve hidden him. My men patrol the Lakewood-Coalhaven boundary daily, you know. I sent two of them after the tracks of the rider who left the property yesterday. You cannot hide the boy from me forever.”
Something withered and died inside of Jackson at Daniel’s words. He had been so careful—leading Manda and Grey on his horse through fields and underbrush, avoiding the road. When he’d at last watched them ride into the distance, he’d thought surely he had done everything to help them escape unnoticed.
Daniel wheeled his horse to go, and a small measure of relief touched Jackson’s panicked thoughts. The sea waters to the east retracted from the line where croplands met shore. Jackson exhaled as the horse stepped toward the road.
But Daniel smirked over his shoulder. “You irritate me, Jackson Coal. You always have, and you always will. You need to be taught a lesson.” He lifted his hand. On the waterfront below them, an enormous, arching wave collected and roiled on the choppy, blue surface of the sea. In another moment, it sped inland, directly toward the eastern fields.
“No!” Jackson yelled, lurching forward, but there was nothing he could do to stop the rush of water. He was too late, and Daniel was too far away for Jackson to overpower him physically, restrain his wrists, and bind his magic by the power of the Wells.
Suddenly, all along the edge of the indigo field, the ground quivered. Bulky shapes jutted out of the earth, like new teeth in a giant babe’s mouth. They rose and rose, boulders of blue granite, to form a wall that repelled the wave. The seawater splashed high against them, but could not encroach any farther. Daniel cursed as his horse backstepped amid the resulting thunder and flying foam.