03 The Mislaid Magician

by Patricia C. Wrede

  The children shouted to warn us. Kate and I stopped at a safe distance. As Arthur and Eleanor and Drina delivered your message verbatim to me, Kate rode into the ring. I assume she meant to help Edward descend from the Tingle Stone by taking him up behind her in the saddle.

  The trap did its work with terrible swiftness. Before I could shout a warning, Kate's horse shied. Edward fell off the Tingle Stone and landed (unhurt, the jackanapes) beside a frightened foxhound bitch—Kate. I promise you, it was the worst moment of my life.

  I could only watch from a distance while Edward coaxed Kate out of the ring. She growls at everyone else, including me, but has not bitten anyone. (Although back at the house, I confess I had a moment of wild surmise when she encountered Georgy, who screamed and burst into tears once she understood the true state of affairs.)

  I have Kate safe in my workroom for now, and great damage she has already inflicted upon the place. She will be most unhappy when she sees what she did to the carpet there, not that she ever liked it above half.

  Yours,

  Thomas

  12 May 1828

  Wardhill Cottage

  Dear Thomas,

  Of course we will send Mr. Wrexton as soon as possible. Poor Kate! He and James are at a meeting with a Mr. Pease about the railway, but I will show them your letter as soon as they return.

  In haste,

  Cecy

  13 May 1828

  Wardhill Cottage

  (in cipher)

  My dear Thomas,

  Cecelia gave me your news when Wrexton and I returned from meeting with Mr. Pease of the Stockton and Darlington line. I am sorrier than I can say. I blame myself, in part, as does Wrexton. If we had not had the notion of asking you to investigate the stone circle, this very likely would never have happened.

  I will spare you a description of the breast-beating that ensued. Suffice it to say that Wrexton and I spent the greater part of yesterday evening—and several bottles of port—in considering what would be best to do. We settled it that Wrexton would come down to Skeynes immediately, while Cecelia, Herr Schellen, and I remain here to await our tardy ley line expert, who might have some useful contribution to make.

  Unfortunately, the ley line expert arrived a few moments ago, just as Wrexton was preparing to set out. I say "unfortunately" both because of his temperament, which is poor, and because even after being fully informed of the current situation, he insists that Wrexton, and no one else, take him out to the stone circle at Goosepool to examine this "supposed net of ley lines." As he may be our best hope of understanding (and reversing) the ley spell, Wrexton and I thought it best to delay his departure for another day.

  You see, Herr Schellen was unexpectedly disenchanted last Saturday morning, shortly after Cecelia sent her inkpot message to Skeynes. Wrexton has been unable to determine the reason for this sudden change of condition, though he is positive that no ley linkages remain. Herr Schellen is therefore in no danger of reverting to being a sheepdog as abruptly as he ceased being one. Wrexton suspects that it may have something to do with our recent visit to the stone circle and the various tests we ran, but he is very nearly as out of his depth as I where ley lines are concerned and so cannot be sure. I believe he hopes that Skelly can confirm his theory, or offer one that is more sound.

  In the meantime, I have some rather suggestive information from Mr. Pease to look into. He says that several years ago, when the Stockton and Darlington was having difficulty winning Parliament's approval, Mr. Webb approached him and offered to see to it that the bill was approved, in return for a sizable share in the railway. As Webb had neither the acquaintance nor the means to influence Parliament, Pease and Stephenson wrote him off as one more of the many cranks who seemed drawn to the project, and rejected his proposal.

  When the accidents and breakdowns on the railway began, Mr. Pease had Webb discreetly investigated. He could find no evidence that Webb was involved—but he and his investigators had, at that time, no reason to pay any special attention to ley lines. The first to do so was Herr Schellen. When Mr. Pease heard that he was to survey the proposed route between Manchester and Liverpool, he quietly hired him to look into the layout of the Stockton and Darlington as well, with particular emphasis on the changes to the original route. It seems unlikely to be mere coincidence that Herr Schellen was promptly turned into a sheepdog.

  Mr. Pease had no further revelations regarding the Webbs, but he has referred me to a Mr. Thornton in Leeds. As for Herr Schellen, he has provided no certain insight into the question of who was responsible for his transformation. He seems well-suited to his profession, which is to say that he is far more aware of, and informative about, rock formations and land grades than people. Circumstances point more and more to the Webbs as the culprits.

  The horses have been brought round, so I will close with the promise that, one way or another, I shall see the Wrextons on their way to you tomorrow. I trust that this expedition to Goosepool will provide them with the information they need to break this transformation spell once and for all.

  Yours,

  James

  13 May 1828

  Wardhill Cottage

  Dearest Kate,

  I am enchanting this letter so that either you or Thomas can read it, just in case. I thought you would want to know everything that has happened as soon as possible.

  After Thomas's dreadful news arrived, we all spent an agitated night. Aunt Elizabeth and I occupied ourselves in assisting with packing up the Wrextons' things for their hurried departure, though I think Walker and Aunt Elizabeth's maid would have been better pleased had we retired to the parlor with a bottle of port, as the gentlemen did. But that would not have done, even so very far from London, and we both felt a strong need for some useful occupation. So the maids had to put up with us.

  Alas, for our good intentions! The Wrextons were in the very act of stepping into the carriage to depart for Skeynes when a tall, lanky man with curly brown hair rode up and demanded—there is no other word for it—to know the way to Wardhill Cottage.

  "This is Wardhill Cottage, sir," James replied.

  "Which of you is this Tarleton fellow, then?" the man said.

  "I'm James Tarleton," James told him. "I am sure you will enlighten us as to your own name and business in good time."

  "My name is Skelly. I'm to understand you'll be having a puzzle for me," the brown-haired man said.

  "Ah, Mr. Daventer's ley line expert," James said, far more politely than Mr. Skelly deserved. "No doubt you've merely forgotten to present the letter he will have given you.

  Mr. Skelly glared, but he could hardly deny that he had such a thing, nor that he ought to have presented it straightaway. He fumbled through his pockets and handed the letter to James, who scanned it briefly and pronounced himself satisfied. James then made introductions all around. Mr. Skelly scowled throughout, though he ventured a curt nod in Mr. Wrexton's direction.

  As soon as the introductions were finished, Mr. Skelly looked pointedly at the carriage and said, "And what is it you are at? Daventer gave me to understand the matter was urgent; I've come a long distance, and I'll not be put off."

  "The Wrextons are just leaving for Gloucestershire," James said. "I'll join you as soon as we've made our farewells."

  "Leaving?" Mr. Skelly contrived to sound as if he had been personally insulted. "The Royal College of Wizards is too high-and-mighty to be speaking with a mere Irish magician, then?"

  "I'm not here as a representative of the Royal College," Mr. Wrexton replied. "And I have urgent family matters to attend to. If you will excuse us—"

  "Indeed not," Mr. Skelly replied. "'Tis no more than I'd expect from a parcel of Englishmen. I've half a mind to post back to Ireland at once."

  By this time, Aunt Elizabeth was bristling visibly. I had been having the greatest of difficulties in keeping my own temper, but Mr. Skelly's final words gave me the notion that he was trying to provoke us all, so as to have an excuse to leave
. I could see from the way James's eyes narrowed that the same thing must have occurred to him, too, for before Aunt Elizabeth could say anything untoward, he took Mr. Skelly's arm.

  "I'm sure you won't wish to leave at once," James said with sudden affability. "Not with the state the roads are in. Besides, it's a pretty little puzzle that will no doubt interest you. Ah, Herr Schellen!"

  Herr Schellen had emerged from the house to find out why James and I were delaying. James proceeded to introduce the reluctant Mr. Skelly, finishing with the provocative remark, "Herr Schellen has only recently ceased being a sheepdog."

  "A sheepdog?" Mr. Skelly said skeptically.

  "Just so," Mr. Wrexton replied. "It was quite a thorough transformation spell, which I believe to have been propagated through a network of ley lines from a local junction point. We have reason to believe that the spell is still active, as there has just been a report of a similar case in the southern counties. Until we are certain of the circumstances, I strongly advise you to avoid entering any stone circles while you are in England."

  The effect of this statement on Mr. Skelly was remarkable. "Ley network?" he said eagerly. "Then Daventer wasn't exaggerating? You've actually found a workable ley network?"

  "Two of them," Herr Schellen put in unexpectedly. He has been very silent and gloomy since he was disenchanted. "Both artificial."

  "Artificial?" Mr. Skelly said in patent disbelief.

  "Not in the street," Aunt Elizabeth said firmly. "If you must discuss these matters now, let us do it inside, where we can talk in comfort and privacy." She turned and marched into the house. Herr Magus Schellen looked at Mr. Wrexton, who nodded. The Herr Magus followed Aunt Elizabeth, and Mr. Wrexton waved the incredulous Mr. Skelly forward.

  James and I remained out of doors for a hasty consultation, after which he set the coachman to walk the horses while I departed to see a tea tray prepared. I had no desire to emulate Mr. Skelly's dreadful manners, and I was determined that he should be able to find no fault with our hospitality.

  Having given the proper orders and overseen the beginning of the preparation, I went up to the parlor, where I found Mr. Skelly arguing with Mr. Wrexton and Herr Schellen over their theories regarding the ley lines. In the face of so much testimony, he could not deny that Herr Schellen had been turned into a sheepdog (though I think he would have liked to do so). He scoffed openly, however, at the notion that the spell was linked to and sustained by more than one ley line. He attributed Mr. Wrexton's "mistake" in this regard to interference from the railway, and he was incredulous when we informed him that a second magician— you—had been turned into a dog in the same manner as Herr Schellen (by stepping into a stone circle). And he was flat-out disbelieving when we told him of the peculiar way the ley lines moved as the railway engine ran across them.

  Finally, Mr. Wrexton reached his limit. "Very well, sir," he said. "You have heard my observations in detail; there is no more that I can tell you. Go to Goosepool and see for yourself."

  "That I shall," Mr. Skelly said. "And I'll be pleased to show you where your error lies. Ley lines are tricky things; 'tis not surprising you were misled."

  Aunt Elizabeth snorted. Mr. Wrexton frowned. "I am leaving for the south," he reminded Mr. Skelly. "Lady Schofield's condition requires urgent attention."

  "Perhaps so," Mr. Skelly said, "but you'll be giving it the wrong sort of attention if you go on as you intend. Ley lines—"

  "Are tricky things; you've said so several times," Aunt Elizabeth said. "If you are such an expert—"

  Fortunately, the tea tray arrived just at that moment. I say "fortunately" because Aunt Elizabeth was plainly preparing to give Mr. Skelly a dressing-down, and though I quite agreed that he deserved one, it seemed evident to me that it would not be of the least use.

  The tea settled everyone wonderfully, though it did not settle the argument. At last Mr. Wrexton agreed to accompany Mr. Skelly to Goosepool to examine the Dancing Weans, provided they went that very day so that the Wrextons' departure need be delayed no longer than absolutely necessary.

  So the baggage was unloaded and the carriage brought round once more. Aunt Elizabeth elected to remain behind, as did Herr Schellen, so we were only four—James, Mr. Wrexton, Mr. Skelly, and I.

  Mr. Skelly did not improve on closer acquaintance, though he at least sank no further in my estimation than he had already. He spent the drive questioning us all, over and over, regarding the details of what we had seen, sensed, and suspected. He was quite put out when it became clear that he could neither persuade nor bully any of us into altering our tales, and at last retreated into silent sulking, which was a great relief to us all.

  The train and its steam engine were not in evidence during our trip. I was not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. On the one hand, I was quite pleased to be spared Mr. Skelly's inevitable observations; on the other, I should have liked to have seen him discover that we had all been telling the exact truth regarding the effect of the engine's passage on the ley lines.

  We reached the lane near the stone circle at last, and climbed out of the carriage to cast the ley-line detecting spells. As Mr. Wrexton began his work, Mr. Skelly stopped him. "I see it's the usual ley-detecting spell you've been casting," he said. "I've a better notion than that, I think."

  "What notion would that be?" Mr. Wrexton said, sounding a trifle annoyed.

  "The spell I use is a bit out of the common way," Mr. Skelly said smugly. "It's my own design."

  Mr. Wrexton hesitated, as if torn between his eternal thirst for magical knowledge and his desire to give the odious Mr. Skelly a thoroughgoing put-down. His thirst for knowledge won, but not, I think, without considerable struggle. "Do proceed," he said after a moment, and Mr. Skelly did.

  Like Mr. Wrexton, I watched Mr. Skelly's spell casting very closely. It was not so very different from the usual ley-detecting spell; he used juniper springs instead of comfrey, and altered the order of "seeing" and "perceiving" in the incantation. Nor were the results so obviously superior to the usual spells as he had made it sound. I did think the edges of the ley lines were a little sharper and clearer than I had previously sensed, but it did not seem so great a difference as to justify the fuss.

  As soon as the spell was active, Mr. Wrexton began a running commentary regarding the ley lines and the things he had noticed on our first visit, as much to keep Mr. Skelly from making any further inflammatory remarks as to inform him of our observations. The tactic served admirably, and we made our way across the intervening field without incident.

  Mr. Skelly's manner changed sharply as we neared the stone circle and began to sense the ley lines. He frowned slightly when Mr. Wrexton turned and began to walk around the outside of the stone circle, but said nothing. When they reached the first of the three ley lines, he took a small notebook from his pocket, along with an odd device that looked much like a compass attached to a slim silver chain with a bone-white plumb bob at the far end.

  Holding the compass part over the center of the ley line, he made several adjustments to the chain, then waited while the plumb bob swung in lazy circles. He made several notations, then went on to the second ley line and repeated the process.

  When he finished with the third ley line, he shook his head. "There's naught unusual about these lines," he informed us smugly. "That one is stronger by a quarter"—he waved at the first line, the one that crossed the railway— "but that's not out of the common way. Now let's see about this circle."

  "No!" Mr. Wrexton said as Mr. Skelly started forward. "You can't cross that circle. You're a wizard; that transformation spell is still active. Check for yourself if you don't believe me."

  "Ah, yes, the transformation spell." Mr. Skelly muttered under his breath, and I sensed magic intensifying around him, though I did not recognize the spell he was casting.

  "That should take care of the matter," he said after a moment, and before anyone could stop him, he stepped briskly into the stone circle.


  You can certainly guess what happened next. Despite his precautions, the transformation spell struck with great force. An instant later, a bewildered terrier stumbled out from between the stones.

  "Now, that is interesting," Mr. Wrexton murmured.

  "What is?" James demanded.

  "That spell. Come here, sir!" Mr. Wrexton said, snapping his fingers at the terrier.

  Whether out of bewilderment or embarrassment, the terrier came. "James, would you do me the favor of retrieving Mr. Skelly's notebook and ley compass?" Mr. Wrexton asked without looking up. "He dropped them inside the circle, and I've no wish to make the same mistake he did."

  "My pleasure," James replied.

  With the compass safely in hand, Mr. Wrexton repeated Mr. Skelly's measurements, comparing each with the notation Mr. Skelly had made moments before. "I thought so," he said with satisfaction when he finished.

  "Thought what?" I said.

  Mr. Wrexton hesitated. "There is one thing more I'd like to do before I answer your question, and I can't do it here. Please oblige me by waiting until we reach Wardhill Cottage."

  Naturally, we agreed, though I was positively afire with curiosity during the whole drive back. When we reached the cottage, Mr. Wrexton disappeared into the workroom at the back, leaving us to explain Mr. Skelly's disappearance and the presence of the terrier to Aunt Elizabeth and Herr Schellen.

  Aunt Elizabeth nodded as we finished, then looked down at the terrier. "Let that be a lesson to you, sir!" she said sternly. "In future, mend your manners."

  "Hah!" came from inside the workroom, and a moment later Mr. Wrexton threw open the door. He was smiling broadly, and in one hand he held a large bowl of ink. "All's well; Lady Schofield is herself again."

  "Michael!" Aunt Elizabeth said. "What do you mean?"

  "See for yourself," he said, extending the bowl of ink with great care.

  We all crowded around as he refreshed the scrying spell, then saw you, Kate, sitting in the library at Skeynes, surrounded by the children. As we watched, Thomas came in with a strip of sticking plaster across his knuckles, looking somewhat rumpled but insufferably pleased with himself.