by April Taylor
When he came back to the shop he had sagged against Rob Panton, who helped him to his fireside chair. Dufay shook him by the shoulder.
“What is it? What did you see?” Both greysprings stood, all senses alert.
Luke leapt to his feet. “I must go. It’s the dark force,” he said, running toward the door. “It is going to kill Bertila.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Wait!” called Dufay. “Do not go running off like an unprepared acolyte. You will not help the girl like that.” He pulled out a leather bag from his cuff. “Here are stones which may help. Lay them on her—they will give her enough protection to enable you to concentrate on other things.” He rifled through his scrip and pulled out a cloth bag. “You may need these serenity stars, and there are also some persuasion grains. And remember, Luke, you can recruit the father and brother with an assistance spell. I have affairs that may not wait, but I shall follow you as soon as I am able.”
“Thank you, sir.” Luke turned to Rob. “Stay here. Look after the house.”
Luke thought he had never run so quickly as he did now, Joss close at his heels. He arrived, gasping for breath, and hammered on the door. When Corbin recognized his visitor, his expression turned from enquiry to contempt. He made as if to close the door.
“No, Corbin, wait. I must see Bertila.”
“We want none of you in this house. Crawl back under your stone. Have you not done enough damage to my girl?”
“I have done nothing to Bertila. Others have but you cannot blame them so you blame me. And what about blaming yourself?”
“Get you gone or I will call the Beadle.”
“Good idea, Corbin, he might make you see sense. Look, I cannot explain, but I must see Bertila.”
“Bertila is ill and in bed.”
“What is all this shouting?” Will spoke from the shadows behind his father. “Who is there?”
“Will, it is Luke. I have to see Bertila.”
“Father is right when he says Bertila is ill. He tells me that her malady...”
“We don’t need anybody’s help in this house,” Corbin’s voice had calmed a little but Luke could still hear a stubborn note.
“Corbin, what ails Bertila?”
“Her heart is broken by Peveril and that sluttish flax-wench of yours. I can cure her physical ills, but she goes a little further away all the time and has not spoken for days.”
“You must let me in. I can help her.”
Will looked at his father’s set face, sighed and went back inside.
Corbin laughed. “You? Help her? Don’t you think you have helped her enough?” He brought his face close to Luke’s. “I taught you all you know—do you think you can succeed where I am failing?”
Luke walked forward, making Corbin retreat. This would be a Luke he had never seen. “Master Quayne,” he said, rubbing his hands together in front of Corbin’s face and sending small silver stars whirling around his old master’s head, “I truly believe that if you allow me to see Mistress Bertila, I may be able to help her.”
Corbin did not say another word, but drew back, holding the door open to let him in. Luke caught sight of Will’s perplexed face. He seized his friend’s arm and caught hold of Corbin’s. “I will explain later. Bertila is in danger. I may be able to help her, but I will need your strength to aid me. What say you?”
For the first time, Luke saw Corbin’s hostile expression falter. “How?” he asked after a moment.
Time was pressing. This was not a spell Luke had used before. He could only hope that it worked. He took two gemstones from the bag Dufay had given him. “Hold these,” he said, giving one to each man. “Look into their depths.” When he saw that the light from the stones had caught their eyes, he muttered a brief incantation. “By the power of your love for Bertila, you will assist me. Where is she?”
Corbin led them to Bertila’s bedchamber. The evil smote Luke like a physical blow as soon as he entered.
“This is more than any ordinary malady. The atmosphere is fetid with decay. Can you not smell it?”
He looked at Bertila. That a dark presence had been there he knew, but where was it now? Had it withdrawn when it sensed his arrival? Would it return? He swung round to look at Joss. She stood foursquare facing the window, head high, eyes vigilant, every muscle taut with expectation.
Bertila lay on her back, hair spread out around her head, just as Luke had seen in his trance. He carefully peeled back the covers. She did not move. He took the remainder of the stones from the bag and laid them down her body, beginning at her forehead, placing one by each ear, another on her mouth, then on her breast, abdomen and privy places.
“Mistress Quayne. Bertila,” he said. No response. There was no help for it—he needed Corbin and Will. He turned to them, side by side in the doorway watching. “Corbin, I need water...”
“Don’t give me orders in my own house, Luke Ballard.” Obviously the assistance spell had not been entirely successful.
“Come and see Bertila. You, too,” Luke added, looking at Will and preceding them to the bed. “She is ailing, but her ills are not physical. They are of the spirit and I think I can help her if she is not too far gone. When did she fall sick?”
“The day after you came last. She has lain like this for days, neither moving nor waking.”
“We must act quickly or we shall lose her.” Luke muttered another incantation under his breath and was rewarded by the easing of his old master’s hostility.
“Please do as I ask, Corbin,” he added in a gentle voice.
“Tell me what you want.”
“I need water. Do you have vetivert, chamomile and sandalwood? If so, fetch them. Then I shall need the strength of your mind to aid my treatment.”
Corbin returned, Bertila’s shopping basket full of jars in one hand and a large jug of water in the other. He and Will stood with blank faces, waiting for Luke to give them instructions. Within a few minutes, Luke had formulated a heady mixture that he sent flying around the room. He watched the droplets land on each surface, except for one corner near the window where a tall column of air remained impervious to the spell. He faced it.
“I thought so,” he said. “You are still here. Joss prevents you from approaching the bed, or is it that you observe me?” Luke watched as the column began to move across the floor. He threw a protective spell around Corbin and Will, instructing them to stand between the column and the figure on the bed. “Bring every ounce of your love for Bertila to fight,” Luke said. “Do not let it approach!”
Without thinking, Luke cloaked his own mind, protecting it from attack. The column became a swirling darkness that stopped as quickly as it had begun.
“Do not be afraid,” Luke said in a steely voice. “He merely tests our defenses. Maintain your concentration. For love of Bertila, keep him at bay.”
Luke held out his ceremonial knife and drew the dissecting lines of the cross in the air, slashing through the evil energy field. But the symbol of the cross and the rent in the energy was not enough. The column wavered for an instant, but then grew denser. Thin stalks shot out from either side in a devilish parody of arms. He could tell it was gathering in preparation to spring. Joss moved to Luke’s side.
* * *
Pippa sat by the fire, gazing into its depths. It seemed that she had done little else for the past week. She could not summon enough energy to move, tend the hearth, cook food. Even the warmth of Ajax’s body leaning against her skirts failed to lift the dark depression that rested like a weight on her soul, sometimes leaving her throat sore with tears she was unable to shed. She had cried herself to oblivion and there were no more tears left.
The question that had been growing in her mind over the past few days sharpened and intensified. Had she done the right thing giving up the chance
of love with Geoffrey? He had made no attempt to contact her since that night in the park. At first she had not known whether to be glad or sorry. Now, though, her fury at his treatment of Ajax had softened. Her initial distress had grown into determination to put him from her mind. But like her rage, her determination had not lasted long, and now her traitorous body was remembering the delight of his caresses. She groaned and Ajax slipped from her side to lie by her pallet, watching her with his questioning velvety eyes as fresh tears, released by memories, streamed down her cheeks.
“What shall I do?” she asked her greyspring, but Ajax’s tail, usually so exuberant, was still.
She sat up, wiping her cheeks with her sleeve. “I must put him out of my head,” she said aloud. “I know, I will practice emptying my mind and exploring my inner chamber. Mayhap I will pick up your thoughts, Ajax.”
Relaxing her shoulders, she shut her eyes and saw the closed door of her inner chamber. The light inside was so intense, it radiated round the edges, in the way that strong sunshine in the summer penetrates the shutters of a darkened room. Pippa felt a calm happiness flow through her and, as she opened the door to the light, the fragrance of the rose Geoffrey had given her flooded out to meet her in a dense aromatic mist. She ran through it. At the far end, standing smiling at her with his arms outstretched, stood Geoffrey. She gave a cry of delight, opened her arms and ran to meet him.
* * *
Luke faced the dark column. “You will not triumph,” he said in a clear calm voice. “She is not yours. She belongs to the light.”
The column swayed a little as if trying to see a gap in their defenses. Luke lifted up his hand again. “In the name of God and all his angels, I order you to be gone and never return.”
To his horror, a dark chuckling emanated from the column. Luke’s voice never faltered. Quiet and determined, he continued. “The blood of the Lamb protects all in this house. Return to the shades from whence you came and trouble us no more.”
The dark chuckling grew louder. Luke took a deep breath. His legs grew heavy as if every ounce of energy was being drained from him. Only his determination to eradicate the threat to Bertila kept him on his feet. He concentrated on his task.
“I know what you are,” Luke said, his voice filled with loathing. “You chose the malus nocte. I am from the light. You cannot hurt me or any in this house who are under my protection. Get back to your master.”
He put his hand into his sleeve and pulled out a silver horseshoe. As he raised it to confront the column, the metal began to glow. Bright blue rays, strong and sure, shot forth and struck the entity. The chuckling ceased on the instant. Instead, a cry of fury filled the room. The darkness hissed, swirled and dissipated through the ceiling.
There was a short silence. Luke dropped onto the edge of the bed, panting. He had enough presence of mind to throw a misremembrance spell at Corbin and Will. They still stood like statues facing the window, but as the sprinkles of oblivion powder landed on their hair and shoulders, they shook themselves as if coming out of a deep sleep and turned.
“Luke, what are you doing here?” asked Corbin.
“I am helping Bertila.” At her name, she stirred a little. Rapid knocking on the door below sent Corbin running to answer it. Luke, dropping to his knees at the side of the bed, begged Will for some wine, and the son followed the father downstairs. The confrontation had drained and frightened Luke. Never had he encountered such malevolence, and he hoped never to encounter it again. He felt as if all his muscles had disintegrated.
He heard voices below and a few seconds later, Dufay walked into the room, his face gray with anxiety. “Have you performed the misremembrance spell?”
“Aye, they will remember nothing save that I tended Bertila.”
“I owe you pardon, Luke. I was halfway home when I tuned in to your struggle. That was no ordinary demon, my friend.”
“I am pleased to hear that, Master Dufay, for it has taken all my strength. Even at the end, I did not think I would destroy it.”
Dufay’s face did not change its serious expression. “We must talk of this, but not here. Things are more deadly than you know.” He turned to the figure in the bed. “It should be easier to wake her, now.” He stroked a finger down Bertila’s face. “Has she always had that scar?”
“She had an accident with acid in Corbin’s shop when she was small. Why?”
“This must have cost her dear since childhood. I shall erase it with a modification spell. We can tell her father that it was a symptom of an inner malady that we have now banished and she is whole again. I have told him I am a doctor specializing in rare ailments and that you sent for me.”
“Do you think he will believe us?”
“He will have to, for the proof will be in front of him every time he looks at her.” Dufay rubbed his hands together. Using a stroking motion and without touching her skin, he floated his fingers over Bertila’s face a few inches above the scar. He repeated his actions several times, the scar growing less visible each time, until, after a few minutes, whole unblemished skin showed under his hand.
“Good. Now to wake her. Luke, you need to aid me by keeping her physical body still.”
Luke nodded, feeling himself grow hot with shame. It had never occurred to him that he would be able to help Bertila once he attained Dominus status. He had regarded Bertila as a dear sister and because of that, he had never given her blemish a second thought. It had been part of her as much as her dark hair or welcoming smile. As an acolyte, he would have been unable to perform the modification spell. As a journeyman, he had the skill, but Bertila had seemed happy with her lot and Luke saw no reason to interfere. Besides, how would he have explained the disappearance of the scar? If Corbin did not have the apothecary’s skill to erase it, then Luke certainly would not have. Luke became aware that the Elemagus was not only staring at him, but reading his every thought.
“You would have found a way in the end, I am sure, Luke. Think on this later. Now, I need your help.”
Luke held his hands above Bertila, projecting an immobility spell into the ether. Dufay waited until he was satisfied and then placed a hand on Bertila’s brow.
“Wake up, Bertila. You are safe. Wake up and come back into the light.”
Bertila’s eyes opened. Luke lowered his hands and the girl sat up, looking from one to the other of them, an expression of bewilderment on her face. Luke sat on the edge of the bed, stroking her hand, murmuring reassurance.
“I will tell the father and brother,” Dufay said, walking to the door.
Corbin and Will burst into Bertila’s room to find her and Luke hand in hand, talking and smiling. With her dark hair tumbling around her shoulders, her face unflawed, Bertila looked almost beautiful.
“She is fine now. Bring her food and wine.” He turned back to Bertila. “You may rest easy. You are well. Nothing can harm you.”
“Bertila, your scar’s gone,” Will said, stroking a finger down his sister’s cheek.
“It was but a symptom of her malady,” Dufay said smoothly. “She is whole and well. I shall visit again soon. Keep her warm. She is past the worst, but still weak. Let her come downstairs, but on no account is she to take up the reins of the household until she is stronger.”
As they left, Luke felt Dufay threw a misremembrance spell over Will and Corbin. Luke approved the Elemagus’s caution.
“I know you feel exhausted,” Dufay said as they walked across the park. “That is the problem when an elemancer fights a sunderer, and this was no ordinary sorcerer. I should have taken thought and come with you.”
In truth, Luke was almost dropping on his feet. The battle had drained him physically and his mental processes were still caught up with the manifestation of the dark force and the terror he had felt for Bertila.
Dufay, as if trying to deflect Luke’s thought
s from his recent ordeal, spoke of the other elements that Luke now needed to study. He talked about the earth as a living entity and the fact that all living souls had affinities with different plants.
“For example,” he said, “you will find that people born in the same period will have an attraction to the same plants, stones and colors. The numbers that guide their lives will be similar. For example, Pippa and the King share a birthday, so there is an affinity between them and anyone else who shares the same natal day.”
“Aye, indeed they do, sir. And I believe that is why Peveril took up with Pippa, so that he could bind her to him and then use her to hurt the King. I am sure he is our enemy, but I cannot yet prove it,” Luke replied. “What I would like to know is whether he romanced Bertila knowing that Pippa would come into his sphere or if that was merely an added twist of fate.” Dufay nodded.
“That would certainly chime with the information we now know. You must also consider that he knew that you were friends with the Quaynes.”
“That makes no sense, sir.”
“Sadly, it does, Luke. It speaks of a power such as we have seldom encountered. It seems he knew you would be assigned to your mission before we knew such a mission existed, but how, I have no idea. What is worse, we have no time to think it through now, so we may be running into even greater danger than before. I told you, I have been studying the way numbers affect our lives. The King and Mistress Gardiner have another mystical bond in that their character numbers are the same.”
“Was that why you wanted her to come and work for you?”
“Aye. I thought that she might help me protect the King.”
“Instead, she allowed Geoffrey Peveril to break her heart as he has Bertila’s.”
“Aye, and there is something I have discovered about Master Peveril that we must discuss. First, though, you must come back to my house, Luke. You are in need of cleansing and replenishing after your trial.”