Dark Destiny

by M. J. Putney

  “Have any foretellers seen more about a French invasion?” Allarde asked.

  “Not much,” the teacher replied. “What have you seen?”

  Allarde grimaced. “No details yet. I felt as if a switch was thrown in my mind and invasion went from a possibility to a certainty. We returned immediately.”

  “Was your mission successful?” Miss Wheaton asked.

  “It was.” Allarde put his arm around Tory, who was wilting with fatigue. “But if the situation isn’t critical yet, I suggest we all get some rest and meet here tomorrow night. We’ll tell you about our mission, and you can tell us everything you know about French invasion plans.”

  After everyone agreed, they split and moved in different directions. Allarde said, “I’ll send a message stone back to say that we arrived safely.”

  Which was a good excuse for the two of them to have some private time. After they returned to the mirror, holding hands, Allarde scribbled a message on a stone and Tory tossed it back to their friends.

  Then they turned into each other’s arms. “This is the part I hate about returning home,” Allarde murmured. “The fact that we can’t be together.”

  She nodded mutely as she wrapped herself around him and raised her face for a kiss. They were both stronger when they were together, nurturing each other on some deep level that blended souls and passions.

  She tried not to think about the future. Even though Allarde was willing to forfeit his inheritance to be with her, there were too many things that could go wrong before they’d ever stand together at the church altar.

  Reluctantly moving out of his embrace, she said, “Even when we’re apart, I feel your presence with me always.”

  Tenderly he brushed back her wayward dark hair. “You’re in my mind, too. But actual touching is better.”

  She caught his hand and pressed it against her cheek. “Yes. But I’ll see you tomorrow evening. Or given how late it is, this evening.”

  Arms around each other, they returned to the central hall, then divided to return to their schools. Elspeth was about to leave, but she waited for Tory so they could walk back together. Since they were both tired, they took the shortest route. As they entered the tunnel, Tory asked, “Have you recovered yet from all the healing work you did?”

  “No, but soon. The power here in the Labyrinth is energizing.” Elspeth made a face. “I hate knowing that the suppression spell will hit as soon as we leave the tunnel.”

  “So do I.” Tory continued another dozen steps before adding, “I’m amazed that Miss Wheaton and Mr. Stephens are willing to stay and teach here even though it means being apart and spending years more under the suppression spells.”

  “We must be grateful for their sense of duty,” Elspeth observed. “When I first started here, the teachers who taught magical control in the schools weren’t as good at training the Irregulars. I’ve learned much more since Miss Wheaton took over.”

  “You’ve been at Lackland longer than any of the other girls. Have you ever felt like walking out of the Labyrinth and never coming back?”

  “Often,” her friend said with a sigh as they started up the steps that led into the cellar of the refectory. “But I’ve had a strong feeling that this is where I should be. It won’t be forever, even if sometimes it seems that way.”

  “Do you think you might meet someone here? A future husband?” Tory asked, wondering if her friend minded the fact that Tory and Cynthia had found partners among the Irregulars.

  Elspeth shook her head emphatically. “It’s duty that keeps me here, not future romance. There is someone out there for me. But not yet.”

  Irregulars didn’t question friends’ intuition. Tory said, “I’m grateful you’re here, since you heal us when we need it. If not for you, Jack would surely have lost his eye.”

  “I knew I’d be needed, though not who would be injured.” She smiled. “I’m sure Jack would look very dashing with an eye patch, but better to have two eyes.”

  “What will you do when you leave here? Healing is the most valuable magical talent, so you should be able to find work and support yourself anywhere.”

  Her friend shrugged. “I’m not sure. Perhaps I’ll settle in London. I’ve only visited there once, but I really enjoyed the variety and liveliness of the city.”

  Tory realized that she had no idea where she and Allarde would go when they left Lackland. They’d only recently made a private commitment to each other, and she’d been too busy dodging Nazis and bullets to think about the future.

  She hated knowing that marrying a girl with magic meant that Allarde’s father would feel obligated to disinherit his only son. It wasn’t so much that Allarde wouldn’t become a duke, but that he would lose Kemperton. The estate had been in his family for generations, and Allarde was deeply connected to the land.

  She guessed that he would be welcome at Kemperton even after his father officially disinherited him, because he and his parents loved each other. But his father was very old, and after he died and the dukedom and estate passed to a cousin, Allarde would probably no longer be welcome in his home.

  He said that Tory meant more to him than Kemperton, which was very moving, but she still hated to be the cause of his losing so much. She’d tried being noble and ending the relationship. She was glad it hadn’t worked, but their reconciliation was a bittersweet lesson in not being able to have everything one wanted.

  They reached the steps that led to the basement of the refectory building. Tory said, “After our first mission, we came back with increased powers. I wonder if that will be true again. We all worked a huge amount of magic in France.”

  Elspeth yawned. “Tomorrow we’ll find out, but tonight, I’ll sleep.”

  Side by side, they climbed the steps. Tory touched the magical spot that opened the door, and it silently swung aside. Instantly the Lackland suppression spell engulfed her like a smothering blanket.

  She drew a deep breath, then started through the cellar. The horrible spell was why the abbey had been chosen for the school. The Lackland school governors had no idea that the magic was driven from the abbey and into the chalk tunnels below. That made the Labyrinth an ideal place for studying magic, but Tory never got over the shock of moving from an area rich with magic into the school’s magical dead zone.

  As Tory and Elspeth emerged from the cellar, they dug their stealth stones from their pockets to make it less likely that anyone would notice them. Not that any sane person would be awake at this hour.

  Tory’s hand closed around the smooth white stone with its low buzz of magic. Mr. Stephens was the mage who charged all the stealth stones with energy to make it less likely that students would be noticed when they slipped down to the Labyrinth to study. She’d taken the stone for granted after the first few times she’d used it, but now she saw the broader applications for the teacher’s talent for concealing people and things.

  When they reached the girls’ dormitory, Tory whispered a goodnight and returned to her room. Cynthia hadn’t returned yet. She and Jack were probably kissing in one of the tunnels and had lost track of the time.

  Tory was so tired that she barely had the energy to change into her nightgown. She was asleep almost as soon as she crawled into her bed.

  Being a heroine was very tiring. But tomorrow would be another day, and one way or another, the Irregulars would find a way to stop Napoleon.

  CHAPTER 4

  Tory was awoke by soft, stealthy footsteps. Opening her eyes to slits, she saw Cynthia silhouetted against the dawn-lit window as she tiptoed into the room. It must be almost time for the wake-up bell. “Where have you been?” Tory asked sleepily. “Or shouldn’t I ask?”

  Cynthia skinned out of her gown, which had taken a beating in the last days. When she emerged from the fabric, she said, “Jack was worried about the possibility of the French invading since Lackland could easily be a landing site. I thought I should stay with him until he was sure his home was safe, so I walked back to the gr
ange with him.”

  Tory chuckled. “Careful. If you get caught being sensitive and supportive, no one will recognize you.”

  Cynthia threw her pillow at Tory. “I was also worried and wanted to see Mrs. Rainford. Jack woke her up. She hadn’t realized yet that Jack had been gone since you brought us back so close to the time we left.”

  “Perhaps it would be better if she hadn’t known about this little adventure, given that Jack was almost killed.”

  In the increasing brightness, Cynthia unpinned her hair and began brushing it out. “They’re too close for him to keep important things from her. Remember that she was also an Irregular when she was at Lackland, so she understands. Not that she was happy to hear what happened to Jack.”

  “Did she have information about a possible invasion?”

  “She’s worried—she can feel that danger is in the air. But she has no more knowledge than we do.”

  The wake-up bell sounded, loud enough to wake the dead, or at least the seriously drunk. Tory winced, then swung out of the bed. “You’re going to be exhausted since you didn’t get any sleep.”

  “I fell asleep on the sofa when Jack was telling his mother all that happened. Mrs. Rainford put a blanket over me, then walked me back here so she didn’t have to wake Jack.” In a small voice, Cynthia added, “She’s wonderful. Like my own mother.”

  “Perhaps someday she will be your mother, or at least your mother-in-law,” Tory said, interested in what Cynthia might say.

  Her roommate pulled on a fresh gown. “Jack says we belong together.”

  “Do you agree?”

  Cynthia laughed. “Maybe he’s right. Who else would put up with me?”

  “No one,” Tory said promptly, then ducked as another pillow came flying at her. She threw her own pillow back.

  A friendly pillow fight wasn’t a bad way to start the day.

  Tory had missed several days of classes since she had been on the other side of the mirror longer than Cynthia, Jack, and Elspeth. Cynthia had told the headmistress that Tory wasn’t well and needed rest, so now her friends welcomed her return to health. Tory disliked the deception, but life would be far more complicated if the headmistress ever realized that some students were slipping away from the abbey for days at a time.

  The chapel was still cold during the morning service and the breakfast porridge was still boring, and Tory still disliked the way the girls broke into groups, with Elspeth and the others who embraced their magic being ostracized. But it was nice being back in a place where she didn’t have to dodge bullets.

  At least, not yet. If the French invaded England.… She suppressed the thought as she headed for her first class.

  The night before, she’d wondered if her magical power had been increased by her mission to France. Very quickly she learned the answer: Yes, it had.

  She made her discovery during her Italian class with the horrible Miss Macklin. No sooner had Tory taken her seat when Miss Macklin sneered, “You look very healthy for a girl who was supposed to be sick in bed, Miss Mansfield.”

  She marched down the aisle toward Tory’s seat. “I think you were malingering to avoid work. Put your hands out!”

  Knowing what was coming, Tory reluctantly obeyed. Miss Macklin loved any excuse to smash her brass ruler across the hands of students, and it was Tory’s turn again. The last time, she’d cracked a bone in Tory’s finger. If Elspeth hadn’t healed the break, she’d have been in agony for days.

  Tory’s mouth tightened. This time she was not going to tamely accept unjust punishment. As Miss Macklin slashed the ruler downward, Tory channeled power to slow the ruler so it wouldn’t hit so hard.

  A startling amount of magic rushed through her. Before she could reduce it, the ruler flew out of Miss Macklin’s hands, spun across the room, crashed through the window, and disappeared.

  The teacher gasped, her eyes round with shock. “What did you do, you dreadful girl?” she hissed. “What evil magic did you practice on me?”

  Startled, Tory donned her most innocent expression. “How could I do magic, Miss Macklin? You know it doesn’t work here in the school. Perhaps you were striking with such force that it spun out of your hand.”

  The teacher hesitated, unsure how to respond, then pivoted and walked back to the front of the room. The other students looked around at each other. They knew that someone had done magic, but who?

  Tory continued looking innocent, but inside, she was exultant. If her power had increased, the same was probably true of the others who went through the mirror.

  And that was good, because they were going to need all the power they had if they were to have a chance of stopping the French.

  * * *

  The gathering that evening in the Labyrinth was somber. Besides the Irregulars just returned from the twentieth century and the two teachers, Jack’s mother had also come. Though her talents weren’t likely to be directly relevant to the invasion, she was a strong mage and a soothing presence.

  When the greetings were over, Mr. Stephens said, “Allarde, what was in your foretelling about the invasion?”

  “Nothing specific, I’m afraid. Just a strong feeling that a definite decision was made to go ahead. Preparations have been underway for many months. Now Napoleon is ready to move,” Allarde replied. “We need to combine our power in a circle to try to learn more. We need more information before we can decide on a course of action.”

  Allarde continued, “Elspeth, you have the most scrying ability, don’t you? You should take the lead since we want to find out what is happening now.”

  Elspeth glanced around at the others, evaluating the range of abilities. “I think so, though I’m not brilliant at it.”

  “You might find that you’re better than you were,” Tory said. “I found earlier today that my adventures in France increased my power. I tried to reduce the power of Miss Macklin’s brass ruler, and accidentally tossed it through the window. I don’t think the increase is as much as when we worked together at Dunkirk, but a definite increase.”

  The other Irregulars silently tested their abilities, then gave nods of agreement. “With this group, we should be able to do some powerful scrying,” Elspeth said. “I’ll get a bowl of water for viewing the images. Allarde, since we’ll also need your foretelling, be prepared to take the lead when I’ve seen as much as I can.”

  With a shuffling of chairs, the mages sorted themselves out. Using her intuition, Tory told everyone where to sit since she was best at balancing and enhancing energy. She chose a circular table which was the right size for the group to sit around and gave Elspeth a place to set her scrying bowl.

  Elspeth cupped the bowl between her palms while her neighbors, Miss Wheaton and Jack, each clasped one of her wrists. Everyone else held hands. Tory, who held Allarde’s hand on one side and Cynthia’s on the other, closed her eyes and tuned herself to the energies of her friends.

  The teachers always participated in the closing circles at the end of a study session, so she knew their energies well, but she’d never been in a circle with Jack’s mother. Mrs. Rainford brought a rich warmth to the blending of magic. “Let us begin…,” Tory said after she’d collected and balanced the energies. “Elspeth, lead on.”

  Elspeth gazed into the water with unfocused eyes, looking for images of what was happening elsewhere. “I’m seeing a rough map of France,” she said. “The French have been building boats in several places, not just Boulogne. Montreuil, other ports in France and the Low Countries. They’re gathering the ships in Boulogne and … and Brest, I think. So many ships! Sloops and gunboats and barges to carry troops.”

  “How large is the Army of Boulogne?” Mr. Stephens asked.

  “Vast,” Elspeth said, her voice tight. “Beyond counting.”

  “The number two hundred thousand comes to my mind,” Mrs. Rainford said. “Is such an army possible?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Elspeth said grimly. “Heavens, there seems to be a victory column in the c
enter of the camp in Boulogne, as if they’re sure they’ll be successful!”

  “The more fools they,” Jack growled.

  Elspeth sucked in her breath. “A fleet of French ships is approaching Ireland! They broke out of the harbor at Brest and managed to evade the British blockade.”

  Allarde gave a low whistle, while Mr. Stephens swore under his breath, using words Tory had never heard him use before. “They used stealth magic to get past the blockade,” the teacher muttered. “I should have seen that!”

  “As good as you are, James, detecting stealth magic all the way over in Brest is almost impossible,” Miss Wheaton said. “Elspeth, do you think they’re planning to land in western Britain or in Ireland?”

  “I think Ireland.” Elspeth frowned as she gazed into her bowl of water. “They want to join with Irish rebels for an uprising to drive out the English.”

  “Then the Irish will have to worry about driving out the French,” Jack said with dark humor. “But this is big trouble for us. We need to call some weather down on this fleet. How far are they from landfall, Elspeth?”

  “I’m not sure. Not too far.” Elspeth gasped. “The fleet heading toward Ireland is very large, perhaps thirty ships or more, but there’s also a much smaller squadron heading toward England! Tory, can you blend my scrying power with Allarde’s foretelling ability so we can learn more about where they’re heading?”

  Tory murmured assent and closed her eyes. The individual energies of the mages in the circle pulsed through her like silken cords of different colors. Mentally she braided together Elspeth’s bright silver and Allarde’s deep, rich power to produce a magic that might be able to see both present and future.

  When the energies were blended, Allarde said, “The Irish fleet is heading toward a place called Bantry Bay and I’d say it’s half a day’s sail away. The smaller squadron, perhaps four or five ships, is heading toward … Bristol? I think Bristol. As the largest port in the west of England, it will be a good target if they could strike without warning.”