by April Taylor
“You said you wanted to be changed. I am not saying that I can do it, but have you thought about it, and is it what you really want?”
“What is the point of me being Robin Flete? I am hunted and, innocent or not, if they catch me, I shall hang. I have no family. This is the nearest I have come to a home. Do you blame me for wanting to be someone else?”
“How do you want to look?”
“Well now,” began Robin and it became clear to Luke that the boy had put a lot of thought and not a little cunning into his plan. “Robin Flete must disappear. Could I not be a distant kinsman of yours, come to help you? I could be of more use running errands than skulking here all day trying to cook.”
“Let me think about it and make some preparations, Robin. Your plan has more good points than bad. I used to have a cousin in Lincolnshire called Robert of Panton. He had a child that died, also called Robert, who would be about your age, had he lived. Our family all have fair curly hair, so I would need to work out how to change that Tudor red mop of yours. It is easier to go dark than fair, but I think I can do it.”
Fate chose that moment to echo the words from his conversation with Gwenette. Everything was being made ready for the King’s birthday. The natal day Henry shared with Pippa. Was this the reason Peveril had targeted the girl, and if so, what was that villain planning and what was the degree of Pippa’s involvement? He became aware of Robin staring at him.
“I did not hear you. What were you saying?”
“I said, why don’t you use your magic?” Robin replied.
“What do you mean?” Luke asked, his heart hammering like an imprisoned stallion kicking at the door of his stall. He stared at the boy, now looking at him with knowing eyes. Blind fool that he was. He should have listened to his inner voice when it counseled caution, but, as usual, he had accepted Robin’s words at face value. It seemed so obvious now. The boy had led him with practiced neatness into a trap of his own making. It would be child’s play for a sunderer to make Robin’s mind appear truthful when Luke probed it. And, if that were the case, it was more than likely that this boy was in league with Peveril, and Pippa either their dupe or a willing participant.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Master, you have turned as white as marble. Do not look so affrighted. My brother was like you. My father died before I was born and my mother died of the fever when I was five years old. Dickon raised me. We were close, despite him being many years older. I wanted for nothing. He could do magic. He had a dog like Joss and Ajax. Her name was Luna.”
Luke could tell from Robin’s tone that he was reliving distant, happier days. “Where is he now?” he asked, trying to recover from his panic and make his voice sound natural.
“One day a man came to our house. He and Dickon talked for a long time whilst I played in the corner. The man came several times and after each visit, my brother seemed troubled. I did not know that at the time, but I have since seen the same expression on men’s faces and of late, on yours. I know now that he was afraid. One night, Dickon came to me and said he had to go out, but that he would be back by morning. I never saw my brother or Luna again. I waited a week, begging food from neighbors. Then I set out for London and this is where I ended up.”
Luke sank onto the nearest chair, trying to work out the implications of this news. First Pippa had been sent his way, and now the brother of another elemancer. If this were the work of God, then Luke hoped the Almighty had no more surprises for him.
“Finish your story.”
Robin screwed up his face in concentration.
“I think I might have been seven when I left home. We lived in the West Country. A group of traveling players took me in. I spent the next few years fetching and carrying for them and taking a cap round when they put on their entertainments in the villages. I’ve always had a way with horses and sometimes earned a penny holding skittish ones for village blacksmiths. I was beaten if I tried to keep my money, so when we stopped at Hampton, I asked Master Bell if he wanted a boy to help out with the horses in the stables. I was tired of the roving life. He said I was a saucy rogue and to teach me a lesson, told me to saddle up a horse and take it out.”
“What happened?” Luke was interested in spite of himself.
“Like I said, I can handle horses. He was as sweet as a nut. I did not find out until later that nobody dared approach him. Master Bell took me on.” Robin paused. “For the last few weeks, you have reminded me of Dickon more and more. He has not been in my mind these past years, but now it is almost as if he was with me again, so do not be afraid that I will betray you.”
They stared at each other in embarrassed consternation. A tap on the shop door made them both jump, and Robin’s face paled. At a sign from Luke, he ran upstairs. The visitor was Roland Dufay. Hera and Joss touched noses in greeting before lying next to each other and watching their masters.
“Have you solved the cipher yet?” the Elemagus asked.
“Sir, I have not yet had a chance. I have been busy since I returned from your house.”
Dufay looked round. “You have no customers. Do it now.”
Luke took the paper from his scrip and gazed at the numbers. His mind was spinning. He dropped onto the settle with his head in his hands.
“What ails thee?” asked the Elemagus.
“I feel like a juggler trying to keep all the balls in the air all the time with nothing to aid me.”
Dufay put a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “I may not appear to be much older than you, but I am not a young man. Luke, I am too set in my ways to run around like a hunting dog tracking a scent, formulating theories and testing them by asking a lot of questions. That has never been my desire or talent. I could solve the cipher with ease, but I do not need the practice. Please do not feel that I am unaware of the urgent nature of your mission. I am, but this task will aid you not just in your assignment but also in your development as a Dominus. Come, I will sit with you whilst you work it out. Or is it that you need my counsel about another matter?”
Luke sat up, his hands tangled in his curly hair. “It seems to be my day for trusting people,” he said with a tinge of bitterness. “You are right, sir—I am in need. I found proof that Goodwife Pitt died by foul means. Threads of cloth at the scene of her death can only have come from someone in the immediate royal family. I have an assistant who has just told me that I am a magician. Apparently his brother was an elemancer. Robin wants a permanent perception spell because he is being hunted for theft from the King’s stables, a crime of which he is innocent. I am no nearer to identifying who is trying to kill the King. The only good thing that has happened today is that Captain Creswell has told me I am not under suspicion for the death of John Bell and that he must have fallen into the river drunk. Trouble is, I know he was not drunk. I know that there was diablerie on him. I suspect he was rendered insensible and put into the river to drown. And now you come and tell me to make haste and solve the cipher.”
Dufay looked down at him. “Where is this boy of yours?”
Luke called Robin, who came clattering down the stairs.
“Come here, boy,” Dufay said. He put his hand on the boy’s hair and grasped it until the water stood in Robin’s eyes. “You will answer me three questions and I shall know if you lie.”
“I shall not lie. I swear it, sir.”
Dufay released him. “You told Master Ballard your brother had magic powers. How did you know?”
“He told me, sir. There was a farmer in our village who used to get drunk and walk home shouting. One day we met him and Dickon said some words I couldn’t hear. The farmer began dancing round and round the village pond and couldn’t stop until he fell down in a faint. Dickon laughed and said it would teach him not to get drunk again. There were other things, sir. The villagers began to be afraid of Dickon. That was a few months just before
he disappeared.”
Dufay took a sapphire from a pouch in his sleeve. The truth, sincerity, devotion and faithfulness associated with it would tell Dufay if the boy lied. He asked Robin to watch as he rolled it about in his palm, letting the light catch it. Luke watched the boy’s eyes lose their focus. Hera came to stand at Dufay’s side.
“Do you swear by almighty God as you hope to be saved that you have told us the truth?” Dufay asked.
“I swear it.”
“Do you also swear to serve Master Ballard with a true and faithful heart?”
“I swear it.”
Dufay clicked his fingers and Robin shook his head. “What happened?”
“Master Ballard tells me that you are hunted by the guards.”
“Aye, that is why I want to change my appearance.”
Dufay looked at Luke. “It would be good practice for you, but quicker for me. Have you decided how he should look?”
Luke explained about his kinsman, Robert of Panton. “Very well,” Dufay said. “We will change his dark eyes to blue, make the hair like yours and grow him a few inches. It will give a better likeness to you from a distance.” He turned to Robin. “Are you happy to cease being Robin Flete and return as Robert Panton?”
Robin swallowed. “I am,” he said. “Will it hurt? I won’t end up with three eyes, will I?”
“Might be an improvement,” Luke said, grinning. “Best get yourself to the pump, lad and sluice all that muck off your face and shoulders. Don’t worry. None will see you.”
Robin disappeared in the direction of the pump. Under Dufay’s instructions, Luke scraped the last of Robin’s perception spell oils into a small bowl and added other powders and oils to the mix.
“Good,” Dufay said when he was at last satisfied. He spread his hands, a gesture Luke recognized as the Elemagus’s preliminary sign for a teaching session.
“Now, Luke, I am on hand to help and the boy is more than willing to undergo the change, so this is a heaven-sent opportunity for you to learn how to perform the procedure and what to do if things do not go according to plan.”
Luke’s face stiffened. “We cannot risk his well-being, sir.”
“We risk nothing. Really, Luke, have a little more faith in yourself as well as in me. What I am saying is that if anything goes awry, I will show you the how and why of it and what to do to put it right—that is all. You are studying for the Dominus level—you should know by now that anxiety is the worst possible state of mind. Before the boy comes back, go into your essence and find peace. I will cleanse myself here.”
Luke went into the kitchen. He would be pleased when he could cleanse himself as the Elemagus did without the need for getting wet. He put the pail in the sink, warmed the water and plunged his head and arms into it. Then he put on a fresh shirt and sat at the table, closing his eyes and mentally checking his body for tension. Joss laid her head in his lap and her nearness calmed him as few other things could. His tension was all in the shoulders. Breathing deeply and concentrating, he began the relaxation ritual. Then he opened his mind and let his psyche float to the door of his inner chamber, reveling in the calm center and waiting for the tumult in his mind to ease.
When Luke came back into the shop, he found that Master Dufay had manufactured lighted candles that floated in the air, giving a soft and welcoming illumination to the wooden shelves and furniture. Not for the first time, Luke marveled at the power of light. Robin stood, naked, on a clean linen sheet spread on the floor.
“Listen to my voice Robin Flete,” Dufay said. “You are tired. Life is too hard and all you want is sleep. Would you like to sleep now?”
“I am tired. I want to sleep now,” Robin said, his eyes half-closed and his breathing beginning to deepen.
Dufay glanced at Luke. “Soak your hands in the prepared oils,” he said in a quiet undertone. “Make sure you have more than you think you need.”
Luke obeyed and looked into the bowl. “I have taken half of it, sir.”
“Good. What we are doing here, Luke, is not just changing the appearance of Robin Flete. We are sending Robin’s tired spirit to its rest and bringing forward a new spirit, that of Robert Panton.”
“Will he remember he was Robin Flete?”
“Not if we perform the spells correctly. I have known of one case where the two spirits lived in the same body, and she ended up in Bedlam. The trouble is that only one spirit can be the guiding force. I have heard of poor souls, usually women, who have been practiced upon by dark magicians and who may have up to five spirits at war within the one body. Sometimes, the spirit being dismissed does not want to leave and fights to remain. We need to be aware and alert for any sign of it. Usually when the soul confirms it is happy to go to its rest, there is no problem. If there is an issue, we simply bring Robin back and start again with stronger potions and prayers. He will be Robert Panton, your kinsman from the north. He will not look like Robin Flete and will not have his characteristics. Neither will he be aware that you are an elemancer. Are you ready?”
“Thinking about it, sir, I would rather he knew what I am and merely accepted that it is something not to be spoken of.”
“You are sure?”
“Aye. If he is to be my servant, then he must know. I cannot keep it hidden, but he must also know that to speak of it might bring death down upon both of us.”
“Very well, I will add in a loyalty element, so that he is unable to betray you, even under duress. He will know who and what you are, but also that to reveal it would mean his destruction. We must make him look more physically like you from a distance, rather in the way you made Pippa resemble the Princess.”
Dufay caught Luke’s shocked glance. “Have you not yet deduced that I, too, work for Queen Anne and that it was I who suggested you would be the ideal person to investigate these attempts on the King’s life?”
Luke felt the numbness of shock radiating out from his heart. Why should he be amazed, though? He had believed Dufay’s kind words about his abilities and the references to Kolby Verrall having held the same opinions to be so much flummery. Why was it so difficult to deduce what was real and what was not? He swallowed. “Why could you not investigate it yourself, sir?”
“I told you that I am not the man to go rushing hither and yon. My work is dedicated to improving our knowledge of the world and its magic. I am beginning to delve deeper into the true power and importance of numbers and how they can help improve our elemancy.”
“But you said we used mathematics every day.”
“I am talking about the force of numbers, not mathematical formulae, Luke.” The Elemagus sighed. “We will continue this discussion after we have finished here.” Dufay turned back to Robin. “Robin Flete, can you hear me?”
“Aye.”
“You are safe and saved. Go to your rest in the love and light of God and all his angels.” The boy sagged a little, but remained upright. “Smooth the oils over his whole body. Move quickly but quietly. Do not disturb the balance.”
Luke was surprised to find that he had as much oil on his hands when he had finished as he had before beginning. He looked the question at Dufay, but the Elemagus shook his head. “Put your hands either side of his head and grow the hair as you want it.”
Luke put up his hands, closed his eyes and concentrated on fair curly hair. When he opened his eyes, he could not see the boy’s head for thick fair curls that covered it down to his shoulders. He shot a worried glance at Dufay, who shook his head. “No, you have to grow it where you want it to appear, not just think of hair on his head.” He waved a hand over Robin’s head and all the hair disappeared. “Try again.”
Slowly, but with increasing confidence, Luke rebuilt the slender red-haired stable lad into a tall, stocky boy with thoughtful blue eyes and fair curly hair growing where it was supposed to grow. Dufay no
dded, satisfied. When the transformation was complete, Dufay spoke a sentence containing forty-nine words, sevenfold seven. The final word, Silentifidelitas, having seven syllables, intensified the incantation. “That will ensure his loyalty,” he said. “Call him, Luke.”
Luke held up both hands. “Come forward Robert Panton of Lincolnshire, my kinsman. Make yourself known.”
Robert Panton opened his eyes and stared in consternation at the two elemancers. “How did I get here?”
Luke handed him some clothes. “You had a long journey, Rob, and when you arrived, you were very tired. You’ve just been asleep. Can you remember who I am?”
Blue eyes rested on him, a glint of mischief evident. “Aye, you are Luke Ballard, cousin to my father. I have come to help you.”
Luke was about to clap the boy on his shoulder and suggest food when Joss thrust herself in front of him, pushing at his knee with her nose, urging him toward the settle. The room began to fade to black. Luke found himself on a threshold he did not know. A woman lay in the bed a few feet away, her dark hair spread out round her head. He looked at the window. It was night and he could see the distorted shape of stars through the glass and the light from the moon illuminating the sleeping woman. As he watched, all grew dark. When he next glanced out of the window the moon and stars had vanished.
A deep, gnawing fear began to tug at his heart when he saw a black mist diffusing through the panes of glass and floating toward the bed. It formed a thick blanket hovering above the woman. Luke threw up a hand and tried to cry out, but no sound came from his constricted throat. The woman stirred in her sleep and began to whimper. She turned her head and Luke screamed, the shock of his discovery jolting him out of his trance.