Dark Destiny

by M. J. Putney

  “Let’s take it day to day,” he said. “There’s a war going on. The world is being disrupted as never before. Maybe in time the gulf between your people and mine won’t seem impassably wide.” As he spoke, he quietly took her hand.

  Warmth rushed through her when he laced his fingers between hers, and it wasn’t only her melting attraction. Might magelings have a special ability to connect swiftly and deeply with others? She had the impression that Tory Mansfield and Lord Allarde had experienced that kind of silent, immediate connection when they met.

  Though she’d tried to deny it, she’d felt a connection with Nick from the first moment she saw him. Perhaps what was between them might be strong enough to build bridges.

  She squeezed his hand, and allowed herself a glimmer of hope.

  CHAPTER 9

  Lackland, 1804

  Back in her room, Tory changed quickly, tossed a few extra garments in her shoulder-slung bag, and returned to the Labyrinth. She immediately went to Merlin’s Mirror to spend some time communing with it privately.

  She closed her eyes as she stood in front of the burning power and reached out with her mind. No one knew if the portals had really been created by Merlin and his associates, but the creators had been ancient British mages. Surely they would approve of defending their country.

  We’re going to a portal we’ve never used before, and it’s in our time, not the future. This is very, very important because we want to protect Britain from this horrible invasion. We need all the help we can get!

  It took several minutes to clear her mind and tune her energy to that of the mirror, but when she did, she sensed that the mirror approved of her and her mission. She thanked the mirror and withdrew into her own consciousness.

  As she did, she heard a small sound behind her, and warm hands came to rest on her shoulders. Allarde. “I don’t suppose you’re interested in my suggestion that you shouldn’t go into the middle of a French invasion,” he said wryly.

  She laughed and rested her hand on his. “I’m no more likely to hide here in safety than you are.”

  “I know. But I had to ask. It’s what males do.” He brushed a quick kiss on the back of her hand. “Even when the female is as intrepid as you.”

  She leaned back against him, her back resting against his warm chest. “We’re in this together, Justin. For better and worse.” Then she wished that didn’t make her think of the next line in the marriage service, till death do us part.

  Hearing the sound of approaching feet, she turned and put a discreet distance between herself and Allarde. The three adults entered the mirror chamber first, followed by the other Irregulars.

  All three girls wore their trousers. Tory and Elspeth were small enough to pass as boys from a distance if their hair was concealed, but that wouldn’t work for Cynthia, who was too tall and curvy to be a convincing boy. Over her shirt and trousers, she wore a loose jacket that probably had belonged to Jack, but nothing short of illusion magic would make her look male.

  Cynthia reached into a pocket and produced two small, polished black pebbles and handed one each to Tory and Elspeth. “I’ve been working on a new illusion trick. These pebbles are charged with illusion energy. What do you look like to each other?”

  Illusion magic didn’t change how one saw oneself, so Tory clasped her pebble in her palm and examined Elspeth. Her friend looked like a modestly dressed young girl instead of a trousered hoyden. Cynthia had also designed the spell to make Elspeth unmemorable by dulling her pale blond hair to tan. “You look entirely forgettable.”

  Elspeth smiled. “So do you. I can feel a faint tug on my power from the stone, so I gather it’s drawing energy from me, Cynthia?”

  “Yes, and you can turn the illusions on and off. All you have to do is think of yourself as normal. To invoke the illusion, imagine yourself in a gown.”

  Tory mentally imagined herself as a trousered boy. Elspeth did the same and immediately looked like herself in boy’s clothing. “This is wonderfully clever, Cynthia!” Tory exclaimed. “Would it be possible to charge the stone with several different appearances? Perhaps add the look of a frail little old lady.”

  Pleased by the compliment, Cynthia said, “I’m sure it could be done with more time and more magic. I’ll experiment later.”

  “Do you have any more stones like that, Cinders?” Jack asked. “I’d like to be able to look like someone else, too.”

  “I have two more stones for you and Allarde,” Cynthia said. “I’ll charge them for you after we’re in Wales. It might be useful for you to look like French troops.”

  “You have a definite talent for war,” Jack said admiringly.

  “Time we were off,” Allarde said. “Since the invasion is taking place right now, minutes are precious.”

  There was a flurry of good-byes and hugs and promises to send message stones. Then Tory arranged her friends in a line behind her and turned to the mirror. She cleared her mind of worry about going to an unknown portal and visualized a map of Britain with Wales to the west. Please take us to Wales near Carmarthen, she thought. Take us as close to the French invasion as you can.

  Energy surged in the portal, and the shimmering rectangle of the mirror appeared before her. She reached out her free hand—and was swept into mirror’s wild magic. Her hand locked on Allarde’s as reality dissolved into chaos.

  Tory returned to the normal world abruptly. Off balance, she stumbled to the ground, still holding Allarde’s hand. She found herself on soft turf, not hard chalk, and outdoors. A cold wind was blowing, and fitful clouds drifted across the quarter moon. She automatically invoked enough hearth witch power to keep her warm. Then she scanned the area and caught her breath when she saw that they were surrounded by tall, irregularly shaped standing stones.

  Allarde’s hand tightened on hers as he helped her to her feet. She created a small hearth witch spell so he would also be protected from the cold.

  He asked, “Are you all right, Tory?”

  “Better than expected.” She felt a little dizzy, but nowhere near as pummeled as she usually did after a mirror transit. She created a dim mage light and looked down the line to see her friends sorting themselves out with no signs of problems. “This was the easiest transit yet.”

  Tory’s hat had fallen off when she landed, so she scooped it up and donned it again. “Here’s hoping we’re in the right time and place.”

  Allarde handed her a message stone with a piece of paper wrapped around it. “I wrote this before we left, saying we’d arrived safely, though we haven’t determined where and when.”

  Tory took the stone and held it with her eyes closed, visualizing the Labyrinth at the time they’d come from. Opening her eyes, she tossed the pebble through.

  Elspeth got to her feet, her gaze on the standing stones. “We’ve come to an ancient place of power,” she said softly. “Feel the magic in this circle! Perhaps Merlin himself built it centuries ago.”

  “We need all the magic we can get.” Cynthia scrambled to her feet. “We also need food. That wasn’t as bad as other mirror transits, but it still left me hungry.”

  “You’re always hungry,” Jack said with a laugh. He opened his knapsack and pulled out the bag of meat pies his mother had packed for the journey. Mrs. Rainford had become an expert on providing foods that were easy to handle and good for restoring mageling energy. Tory suspected that there was probably another bag of shortbread deeper in Jack’s knapsack.

  Allarde was studying their surroundings. The stone circle was on a hilltop, and there was a distant glint of water. “Let’s hope we’re close to the invaders. If we’re near Carmarthen, that’s the Irish Sea out there.”

  Elspeth gazed out at the sea. “The French are near. I can feel them on the wind.”

  The words sent a shiver down Tory’s spine. She asked, “Jack, how well recovered is your magic?”

  “I couldn’t do major weather work yet, but my finder ability seems to be working well.” He pointed to th
e left. “The town of Carmarthen is several miles east. The French landing is much closer, probably just on the other side of that great hill. Between one and two miles.”

  “My friend who lives in this area is named Blakesley,” Allarde said. “Do you know where his family home might be?”

  Jack closed his eyes for a moment, then pointed to the left again. “It’s this side of Carmarthen, but on the other side of where the French are landing.”

  “That makes our plan simple.” Allarde scooped up his knapsack and slung it over his shoulder. “We head east along the coast and see what the French are up to. Is everyone feeling fit enough to start hiking?”

  The last of the food was consumed, crumbs were brushed away, and hats and knapsacks were adjusted. Jack, who had been prowling around the edge of the circle, said, “There’s a path down this hill that runs in the right direction.”

  “Give me a moment to absorb some of this wonderful energy.” Elspeth stepped up to a standing stone and closed her eyes. Then she flattened her hands and rested her forehead on the rough, damp surface.

  Thinking that looked like a good idea, Tory did the same, choosing a different stone. When she closed her eyes and stilled her mind, she recognized that the deep power of this sacred place was similar to the power of the mirror. Since this was supposed to be Merlin’s home country, maybe he really did create the mirror portals.

  She let the power flow into her, restoring the strength depleted by using the mirror. She was smiling when she opened her eyes and stepped away. Everyone had followed Elspeth’s example, so she waited quietly until the others were done with their communing.

  Jack was last. As he opened his eyes and stepped away from the stone, he slung his bag over his shoulder and said, “That helped restore a good bit of my power. Now it’s time to see if five magelings can help stave off a French invasion!”

  CHAPTER 10

  Wales, 1804

  Tory had been vaguely aware that Wales was a wild, rugged land. But she hadn’t realized just how rugged. The footpath Jack had found was leading in the right direction and the footing wasn’t bad, but the hills were steep. There was a stiff wind blowing, too. Lucky that the girls had hearth witch magic to keep everyone warm.

  She was panting as they neared the top of a hill near the coast. Then Allarde, who was a few steps ahead on the footpath, came to an abrupt halt and gestured for quiet.

  Everyone stopped to listen. Shouting voices could be heard above the wind, and they were shouting in French. They were also using words Tory didn’t recognize but suspected were blisteringly profane.

  Allarde dropped to a crouch and moved up to the top of the hill, where he flattened himself in the grass so he wouldn’t be visible against the skyline if anyone below glanced up. After a moment to study the situation, he beckoned for the others to come forward.

  Tory crept up beside him, then smothered a gasp at the sight of the cove below. Four ships flying French colors were anchored in the dark water, and a dozen or more small boats were moving back and forth from the vessels to the shingled beach. The torches on the beach illuminated stacks of ammunition and supplies, and swarms of soldiers were forming into groups and marching inland.

  “So many men!” she said, her throat tight. “This truly is an invasion.”

  “I’m thinking there must be close to two thousand,” Jack said as he studied the activity below.

  “There are both regular and irregular troops down there,” Allarde said, indicating a mass of dark-coated men who were forming into ranks. “Those are La Légion Noire, the Black Legion. They wear captured British uniforms that have been dyed black.”

  “Now that’s just vulgar!” Cynthia exclaimed.

  “Perhaps, but they move like well-trained soldiers.” Tory watched a company form ranks, then march up the hill along a track that was forming in the soft turf. “And they seem to have a destination in mind.”

  “They would have sent out scouts as soon as they moored in the cove,” Elspeth said thoughtfully. “There are any number of old castles and fortresses scattered around Wales. If they found one nearby, it would make an excellent base of operations.”

  “We need to follow that track to see where they’re going.” Allarde said. “Then we can head to the Blakesleys and hope that the general is home. He’ll be able to raise the militia and yeomanry far faster than we can. Perhaps the French forces can be attacked while they’re still getting organized.”

  “Let’s hope their lair isn’t far,” Cynthia grumbled. “Traveling parallel to the line of march is going to take us over rough ground.”

  “I could go alone and catch up with you later,” Allarde suggested.

  “No!” emerged from four throats simultaneously.

  Tory added firmly, “We need to stay together until we have a base of our own. This is wild country, easy to get lost in. Even though you and I are connected, that doesn’t mean we can find each other in unfamiliar territory.”

  “I’d rather know exactly where you are,” Allarde agreed as he backed down the hill so he wouldn’t be visible to the French when he straightened up. “A good thing they’re making so much noise that it will be easy for us to shadow them.”

  The next hour was a tiring scramble through the darkness as they headed inland parallel to the enemy’s route. As Allarde had said, it wasn’t hard to keep track of the French, but the ground was rough and the Welsh hills were steep.

  Occasionally, they came close enough to catch a glimpse of the line of march. Once they saw four small cannon being hauled along between two companies of foot soldiers. The invasion forces were worrisomely well armed.

  Tory swore under her breath when they came within sight of the French destination. The devils had found an old hilltop fortress with much of the stonework intact. It looked to be the highest elevation around, so the French force would have a good view over the surrounding countryside.

  Jack gave a soft whistle as he surveyed the fortress. “Once the French dig in there, it will be almost impossible to get them out.”

  “They need to be out and fighting if they want to conquer any ground, but the fortress gives them an excellent base to work from.” Allarde studied the rocky crag with narrowed eyes. “Since they’re still getting settled and haven’t set up perimeter guards yet, this is a good time to scout around the fortress for weaknesses. Ideally, there would be enough flaws in the stone that I could break off a large chunk of the fortress.”

  “Not likely!” Jack said.

  Allarde grinned. “I know. But one can hope.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Jack decided. “Maybe there will be places where Cynthia and I can throw some lightning.”

  Cynthia groaned. “Just what I need, more hiking.”

  “You girls needn’t come,” Jack said. “You can rest here till we finish scouting.”

  Tory wouldn’t mind a rest, but she was all too aware of the passing time. She studied the landscape. The French soldiers were traveling from the shore in a narrow valley between two steep hills. At the end of the valley was the crag crowned by the fortress. The Irregulars were on a hill to the west of the track, and they needed to cross to the other side of the valley to continue toward the Blakesleys and Carmarthen.

  “Scouting around the fortress will take time,” Tory said. “It would be more efficient if we frail females rest a bit, then cut across the valley when there’s a gap in the line of march. We can all rendezvous up at that rocky outcropping on the opposite hill.” She pointed.

  “That makes sense,” Allarde agreed. “Jack, let’s get going. We have a much longer hike to get there.”

  Jack lifted his pack again. “Right. Careful, ladies.”

  “You males are much more likely to get into trouble than we are,” Cynthia pointed out.

  “And you wouldn’t have us any other way,” Jack said with a laugh.

  Allarde brushed a kiss on Tory’s cheek, then the two boys headed off into the darkness. The girls settled to the ground
gratefully.

  “Why don’t we ever have an adventure with horses?” Cynthia asked with a sigh.

  “That would be too easy,” Tory said, thinking how nice it would be to have a Welsh pony to ride. “But at least since we’re in our own time, we don’t have to worry about explaining magic to people who don’t believe in it.”

  They rested quietly, watching the French and their supplies being moved up to the fortress. The marchers weren’t a continuous stream, but the spaces between groups weren’t usually too long. After they’d had a chance to catch their breath, Elspeth got to her feet. “There’s a largish gap coming, so it’s a good time for us to start down.”

  Cynthia said, “We all have our Lackland stealth stones, don’t we? Between the stealth magic and it being the middle of the night, there’s not much risk we’ll be seen.”

  Tory had been studying the route across the narrow valley. She stood and slung her bag over her shoulder. “We probably won’t be seen, but the other side of the valley is rather steep. Toward the top, it will be more like rock climbing than hiking, so we’ll need to be extra careful.”

  “You don’t need to worry,” Cynthia said with a grin. “If you slip, you can just fly the rest of the way.”

  “I don’t fly,” Tory said. “I just float.”

  “It looks like flying to me!”

  They set off down the hill, sticking to the shrubs and trees where they could. The distance to the bottom seemed longer than they’d estimated, and by the time they reached the valley floor, the marchers in the second group were unnervingly close. Tory could hear individual voices and see the faces of the torchbearers.

  But the Irregulars had their stealth stones, and a cloud drifted across the moon, making the valley floor very dark. Tory wondered if that was Cynthia’s work.