Lessons After Dark

by Isabel Cooper

  “I can leave,” she said.

  Lead and steel indeed. Gareth felt like he’d been hit in the side of the head with a bludgeon. Numb and almost dizzy, he stood and watched as Olivia continued.

  “Not right away. Not completely. I—” She stopped whatever she was going to say, swallowed. “I care about your happiness, but not, I’m afraid, enough to forsake everything I’ve found here. Before, when I was tricking people…it was never the right thing to do, even if it worked out well in the end. This, with the Grenvilles, is. But I don’t have to do it here.”

  Gareth stared at her. “The school is here,” he pointed out, because of all the objections he wanted to make, it was the simplest.

  “I’m sure there are other duties I could perform. Finding students, perhaps, or teaching those whose parents won’t let them stay here. Research. And there are other teachers. Miss Grenville will be coming home, eventually. When she does, or when Mr. Grenville finds another likely candidate, I can ask him for more remote tasks.”

  “My God, Olivia—”

  She lifted her chin. “Let us be practical, please,” she said, but there was a softness in her eyes that looked anything but pragmatic. “We…desire each other. Immoderately. In other situations, perhaps there would be other solutions. But my life was as it was, and I made what choices I did, and you cannot approve of them, or of me. I will not ask you to.”

  Gareth never thought for a moment of doubting her sincerity.

  The determination in Olivia’s voice, the angle of her head as she looked at him, the quiet patience in her dark eyes. Gareth couldn’t have named one single thing that affected him. All of them hit him with the same force, and the thoughts that had been diffuse and chaotic suddenly lined up.

  He stepped forward and reached out. Olivia’s shoulders were rigid under his hands, her body stiff with surprise, and the branch she still held in one hand made their position more awkward than Gareth would have liked. He thought of asking her to put it down then realized he had more important things to say. She hadn’t stepped away from him and she hadn’t tried to twist out of his grasp and these were encouraging signs.

  “You’re half-right,” he said, looking down into her eyes, watching her conviction turn to confusion. “But only half. I can’t rejoice in your past or think it was good, even if…even though you and I and Englefield might have profited from the results. You wouldn’t believe me if I pretended otherwise. But…” Gareth brought his hand up to cup the side of her face, stroking his gloved thumb down her cheek. “What you did to survive wasn’t what you were. And it’s certainly not what you are now.”

  Her eyes widened, filling his gaze. “And,” she said, struggling to keep her voice light and not quite succeeding, “what am I, then?”

  “Brave. Dedicated. Brilliant. Lovely.” Gareth bent his head and brushed his lips against hers, a caress briefer and gentler than anything that had passed between them before. “Loved.”

  Olivia stopped breathing at that point. Only for a few seconds, but Gareth thought shocking her back into normal respiration was clearly his medical duty. He pulled her to him and kissed her again, lingering this time, until she dropped the stupid branch and her arms came up around his neck.

  As Gareth was beginning to entertain serious thoughts of taking her on the ground, despite the hour and the cold, she slid her hands down against his shoulders and pushed away, gasping. “Are you sure?” she asked. “The things I’ll be teaching—”

  “Are useful. If I think they’re not, I’ll object then.”

  “You might not be the only one who recognizes…who I was, you know. It could be embarrassing for you to be seen too publicly with me.”

  “God save me from ever becoming that sort of man,” Gareth said. He tilted her face up with one hand. “If this is your way of rejecting me, you’re doing a damned poor job of it.”

  “No,” she said and shook her head. “No, I love you. I just want you to know what could happen.”

  “And nothing that happens will be the end of the world.” Gareth laughed. “Hopefully.” He felt free, almost weightless, as he hadn’t felt since he’d left England years ago. He felt as intoxicated as he had in the grip of magical power. “All we can do is go forward.”

  Olivia relaxed into his arms again. “Or back, in this case,” she said.

  “Hmm?”

  “If we want to sleep indoors tonight,” she said and glanced over his shoulder toward the house.

  Her body stiffened even as Gareth heard the footsteps. In an instant, he’d released her and turned, putting himself between Olivia and the dark figure moving toward them. “Who’s there?” he demanded and hoped to be neither shot nor dismembered for his pains.

  The figure froze, becoming, as Gareth’s eyes focused, tall and lanky and unsure. It was still under a tree, the shadows obscuring its face, but the voice was unmistakable. “Sir?” Waite asked.

  Some of the tension left Gareth. Not all of it. There were still many questions to be asked.

  Olivia stepped up beside him, the tree branch in her hands again. She wasn’t holding it threateningly, not now, but nothing in her posture suggested a joyous welcome either. “Really, Arthur,” she said, “this is outside of enough.”

  Chapter 41

  Almost as soon as she’d spoken, Olivia regretted her exasperation. True, Arthur had picked a bad moment, but when she got a clearer look at his face, she knew he wasn’t out on some boyishly stupid errand. His eyes were wide and desperate. His face was pale.

  And as she watched, a drop of blood ran down from his hairline.

  “Arthur, what happened?” she asked, seizing one of his shoulders and dragging him out of the shadows. “Gareth, he’s hurt…have a look.”

  Arthur tried to shake off her grip. “I’m all right, ma’am. It doesn’t matter about me. Someone has to go after him.”

  “Who?”

  “William. We were in our room, and he hit me. Tied me up afterward, but I remembered what you taught us. He was gone when I got out. I think he’s gone mad. Or something.”

  “Or something,” Olivia repeated, knowing only too well what something was. She remembered the way William had been keeping to himself and how he’d wandered off when all of the students were outside. He’d looked strange when he’d returned too. “But he wasn’t gone that long,” she said aloud, “and there was nobody there. I was watching for people.”

  “We all were,” said Gareth, refocusing on her. “We were watching for people. Not animals. I should’ve known when I saw the vicar’s cat.” His face showed the same realization and horror Olivia knew must have been apparent on hers, but he turned back to Arthur and spoke calmly. “You’re surprisingly well off for taking a blow to the head. Where is Fitzpatrick going, do you know?”

  “He didn’t say,” said Arthur. “He didn’t talk at all. But he took a pair of candles, a flask of water…and a knife.”

  The implements didn’t mean much to Olivia, save that the thing in Fitzpatrick was going to attempt some kind of magic, a sort it couldn’t do on its own. If she’d been trying a spell and either needed as much power as possible or were inhuman enough not to care if the magic slipped her control, she knew where she would go.

  “The forest,” she said. “We probably don’t have much time. What’s in there?”

  Arthur was carrying a small bag over one shoulder. At Olivia’s question, he took it off and handed it to her. “What I could find, ma’am,” he said.

  Inside were a candle and matches, a shaker of salt, a small bottle of water, a pair of silver cuff links, and three twigs of holly, probably cut from one of the bushes near the front door.

  “Holly protects the home, mostly,” she said through numb lips. “I’m not sure it will do much good in banishing anything, though I suppose one never knows.”

  “The school’s our home. And I suppose this world is too, if we’re dealing with things from outside of it. I thought that might count enough.”

  “It
might.” Olivia said. Arthur’s voice and her own sounded far away and quiet. Her mind spun then centered and stopped. She was aware of Gareth at her side, reassuring even though he didn’t speak. “Go inside,” she said. “Get Mrs. Grenville. Tell her what’s happened and that I’ve gone to the forest.”

  “Miss Woodwell too,” Gareth said suddenly. “First. Have her send us a guide. She can ask one of the birds to find a young man in the forest then lead us there.”

  “Yes, sir. Ma’am.” Arthur looked between them for only a second, waiting for more instructions. When none came, he dashed off for the house, moving with the speed only youth and fear could provide in combination.

  She and Gareth, Olivia thought, would have only the first on their side. She turned and headed toward the forest, walking as swiftly as she could, but didn’t run. There would be a great deal of ground to cover, and much of it would be uneven. Breaking her ankle again would be the last thing she, or anyone, needed.

  Quite possibly, it would be the last thing she did.

  Gareth’s presence was no surprise, no more than his use of us had been. The practical side of Olivia thought of course he would come. This was as likely as not to end with William badly injured. But she didn’t think William’s welfare was Gareth’s only reason for joining her, or even his primary one, and the knowledge gave a little warmth back to a heart that had gone cold with fear.

  He still limped a little, she saw, though not nearly as badly as he had when he’d arrived at Englefield. Noticing that made her remember the rowan branch, still in her hand, and she passed it to him. He took it with a quick smile but didn’t speak any more than she did. They would need their breath.

  Just past the dormitory, Olivia glanced back toward the house and saw that lights had gone on all along the top row of windows. A few moments later there was another scream overhead. Olivia froze for a moment, until Gareth put a warm hand on her arm and pointed upward. “Owl,” he said. It flew onward, toward the house. A little later, as they approached the edge of the forest, the owl passed over them again, flying ahead into the night. Olivia thought of Charlotte with thanks, and with hope.

  Even in winter, the forest blocked a great deal of the moonlight. Haste would be even more foolish now than it had been earlier. Olivia gritted her teeth but slowed down. The respite let her catch her breath.

  “What do you think the demon’s trying to do?” Gareth asked.

  “I’m not sure,” said Olivia. “It probably doesn’t want to go home, or it wouldn’t have come in the first place.” She hated to say what came next, but she owed Gareth honesty. Especially now. “There’s an outside chance it hates this world enough to destroy it, but it came from Balam’s…home…and from what I’ve read, most of the creatures there find this place amusing.”

  “That’s some relief, I suppose.”

  Olivia sighed. “It doesn’t intend to destroy us, exactly. I don’t think it cares very much if it happens, any more than a child would care about breaking a toy, and I’m not at all sure it understands this place enough to avoid it. Especially if its aim is what I think it might be.”

  “What’s that?” Gareth was barely limping now. Olivia hadn’t expected that, even with the stick, but she thanked God for small favors.

  Certainly they’d need them. “Sending out invitations,” she said, “and opening a door.”

  They didn’t stop walking. She couldn’t see Gareth’s face. She didn’t need to.

  “To its home?”

  “That’s probably what it intends. Out in the forest, it might knock down a wall instead. Metaphorically speaking.”

  “Good Lord.”

  “You see what I mean.”

  Olivia ducked under an overhanging branch. The path wound ahead of them, shadowed and narrow. At least there was a path, so far, and William had probably stayed on it. Probably. Hopefully.

  “Do you have any idea,” Gareth asked slowly, “what’s likely to be on the other side?”

  “No. That’s where the metaphor fails a little. You see there isn’t really an ‘other side.’ Bear in mind that both Mr. Grenville and I have started researching this comparatively recently. There are many places outside our world. A hole in our walls might open to any, or all, or a different place under a new moon and a full one.”

  “Ah,” said Gareth, which seemed to Olivia like the only sensible response to what she’d just said.

  “Of all the…not-here places I’ve ever heard of,” she added, “there are some that are comparatively harmless. Even pleasant, in their way.”

  “Some?”

  “Not very many. From everything I’ve read, most of the others aren’t hostile, exactly, simply…inimical, like a desert or the peak of a very tall mountain.”

  Or the bottom of the ocean. Olivia didn’t say it. She also didn’t mention the places that were hostile. She’d heard only a little about any of this, but that little had already been enough to haunt her dreams at times. Gareth had seen Balam. He could draw his own conclusions.

  Shrieking, a shape dropped out of the sky toward them.

  Olivia froze and ducked, throwing up an arm to shield her face, but the great white-faced owl stopped its dive a foot or so above her head, a few inches above Gareth’s. As Olivia rose again, it flew one quick circle around their heads then took off to the North, sailing just a little bit below the tree line.

  They went after it, putting on as much speed as either of them dared, given the darkness and the ground. The darkness was of no help in following the owl either. Olivia looked ahead several times, fearing she’d lost it, only to see the motion of its wings after squinting for what felt like an age. She thought of the white birds people had mentioned seeing in the forest but didn’t let herself wish for one. Having any kind of guide was blessing enough, and if any god was listening to her prayers, she didn’t want to anger it with ingratitude.

  A few yards onward, they came to the fork in the path they’d encountered with Charlotte. To Olivia’s surprise, the owl paused above it and waited until she and Gareth had caught up, then flew off in the direction they’d taken before.

  Memory flickered through Olivia’s mind. “I think William talked with Charlotte,” she said, stepping around a fallen branch. “Asked her where we’d gone and so forth.”

  “Would she have told him where we were?”

  “Of course. Perhaps nothing specific. I think she’d have got suspicious if he’d asked for precise directions. He might not even have known he wanted them then. I don’t know how immediately or how thoroughly this thing took control. All the same, he could easily have asked how far we’d come. She wouldn’t have thought to keep it secret.”

  Gareth sighed. “Neither did we.”

  “Reasonably enough, I’d think,” said Olivia, letting her voice go hard to match the vague impression of guilt she heard from Gareth, and felt herself, in all honesty. “Telling someone a place makes magic harder to control should not be an advertisement to try some magic there, and we had no idea a demon would be sifting through his mind.”

  The path they were on was snaking now, winding its way around trees and large rocks. It was still a path and not a game trail, but they’d come farther in than they had when Olivia had been testing the place. She couldn’t tell how much farther. Squinting ahead for a minute or so, she saw the owl was still in front of them…and then she started to see something else. A different texture to the dark, as if it rippled like water. Olivia shook her head and closed her eyes for a second, trying to clear her vision, but the distortion was still there when she opened them.

  “We’re getting close,” she said.

  “I thought so,” said Gareth, and his voice was strained. Olivia glanced over at him, but there wasn’t enough light to see the expression on his face. And she could have done nothing, anyhow.

  Almost nothing. “Will you be all right?” she asked. “You can stop here, I can try to bring William to you, if he’s injured.”

  “If you can,” Gar
eth said. “No. I can keep going. I’ll stay with you. This…whatever it is, shouldn’t do me any permanent harm, I think.”

  “You think?”

  Gareth’s laughter had an edge to it, but it was still welcome. “I am the doctor here,” he said.

  There was no real way to argue with that. “Just turn back if you start thinking you’re in any danger,” she said. She wouldn’t beg him to go back now. He hadn’t told her to stay behind. Each of them had their duty here. “And, Gareth—”

  She stopped, half because she suspected he knew what she was going to say, half because of the way her voice sounded, slow and fast by turns. Olivia put a hand to her throat but knew the problem wasn’t there.

  Above them, the owl had stopped in its flight. She looked up at it and nodded acknowledgment and thanks. It had been a good guide, and she wouldn’t ask anything to go farther into whatever lay ahead. Besides, their path was obvious now.

  When they turned another corner, they started to see light up ahead, pale green light that danced and wavered in the sky. There was a rhythm to it, but Olivia couldn’t quite find it. She didn’t know that she wanted to.

  She stopped walking and reached out a hand. “The branch, please? Just for a moment.”

  Gareth passed it over.

  Olivia had no knife, but the cut she needed to make was a small one. The back of one of the cuff links served well enough, and while Gareth went rigid beside her, he made no move to intervene. Pressing her bleeding finger against the rowan wood, she called out three words in Enochian and felt the branch go hot and cold at the same time.

  “Careful,” she said, handing it back to Gareth. She put her finger in her mouth. Undignified, she knew, but dignity was the least of her concerns now.

  He took the branch gingerly, closing his hand slowly around one end. “I should have brought gloves,” he said as he started to walk.

  “We should have brought many things,” Olivia said.

  They fell silent. There was nothing to say, really, only the knowledge of what lay ahead, or rather, the knowledge that they didn’t know what that would be. Couldn’t know. Darkness closed around them, light danced in front of them, and fear moved slow and icy through Olivia’s blood.