Dark Mirror (15 page)

“I think that satisfies any remaining doubts about your ability, Tory,” Mr. Stephens said. “Your connecting with two other strong talents made it possible for Jack to use his weather ability quickly and easily. Alice, will you heat the tea water now with the help of the other two?”

Alice obeyed, and the energy moving among them shifted from weather magic to a blaze of heat that didn’t burn. It was better than walking on a sunny spring day.

“Enough!” someone called. “The water is boiling in both kettles.”

Alice laughed. “That’s the fastest I’ve ever boiled it! You’re a useful lass, Tory.”

Tory glowed with the praise. As the little sister in her family, she’d never been seen as very useful. This was much, much better. “Does this mean that whenever strong magic is required, I’ll be part of it?”

“Indeed it does,” Mr. Stephens said with a smile. He gathered the Irregulars with a glance. “And now it’s time for our regular joining circle. Let’s see if Jack can bring us sunshine in the morning!”

Jack took Tory’s hand again. “With us here, Lackland will have the best weather in England!”

By the fourth study session, Tory had developed a routine for slipping away from her room. She made up a bundle that included shoes and a sturdy, simple day dress that was easy to put on and take off. In the middle was the stealth stone and the whole was wrapped in her warmest shawl.

She used a bit of butter from the refectory to oil the hinges of the door and of her wardrobe. Her bundle she stored in the wardrobe, where it wouldn’t be noticed among the other clothing. When it was time to leave, she removed the bundle and took it into the cold, dark corridor. There she dressed and headed downstairs, perhaps intercepting more Irregulars as they headed to the Labyrinth.

Studying with other magelings was energizing. When combined with the gentle healing power Miss Wheaton added to the joining circle, she never felt too tired for her regular classes the next day.

On the fourth night, Tory chose the tunnel that ended in the refectory cellar. It was her favorite route because the tabby she’d met there the first evening had become friendly and demanded petting. After scratching the cat’s neck and chin, Tory opened the door to the Labyrinth, scooped up a mage light, and descended the steps.

Tonight she would have a tutorial on healing with Miss Wheaton and two other students who had started this term. This was another area where Tory had no special gift, but since healing was so useful, she was determined to get the most out of what talent she had. Since boys were always getting banged up playing their endless games, there was usually some young male to practice on.

More than half of the students had arrived by the time Tory reached the central hall. She looked around to find Miss Wheaton. Ah, there she was, talking to Mr. Stephens before formal classes started. By now, Tory was used to seeing a pink glow of energy between them whenever they were close. She wondered if they shared a few kisses after the students went home.

Tory was halfway across the hall when a familiar voice said waspishly, “What on earth is going on here?”

No, it couldn’t be! Tory spun on her heel and saw Cynthia Stanton emerge from the same tunnel that Tory had used, looking as elegant as if she were going to tea. The witch had followed her!

“Miss Stanton.” Mr. Stephens moved forward to greet Cynthia. “This is an unexpected pleasure. You won’t remember, but you were here once before, shortly after you first arrived at Lackland. The Irregulars are students who have chosen to develop their abilities and form a magical militia to defend the country if Napoleon invades.”

Cynthia frowned. “That sounds useful, but I don’t remember being here before.”

“You decided not to join us, so you were given a dream spell and sent back to your room.” Mr. Stephens cocked his head to one side as he studied her. “What brings you here a second time?”

Cynthia pointed a long finger at Tory. “
She
has been sneaking out of our room. I thought she might have found a way to reach the boy’s school, so tonight I followed her to see what she was up to.”

“Studying,” Tory said sharply. “If I can help keep England safe, I will.”

“I care about my country, too!” Cynthia snapped back. Her gaze swung across the room. By this time most of the Irregulars had arrived and they were studying her with disgust or admiration, depending on whether they were girls who knew her or boys who saw only her blond good looks.

Cynthia’s gaze halted. “Allarde?” she said with disbelief. “
You’re
here? Your father will disinherit you!”

“If he does, so be it,” Allarde said calmly. “Many of my ancestors gave their lives for England on the battlefield. A title is a small price compared to that.”

“I’m as patriotic as anyone here,” Cynthia said indignantly. “But why are you so worried that the French will invade? The Royal Navy will protect us.”

“They will certainly try,” Miss Wheaton said. “But some of our best foretellers believe that Napoleon will invade, and his forces have a good chance of success. If Lackland ends up a battlefield, we will be prepared to help fend them off.”

Cynthia bit her lip and her gaze went to Allarde again. “If that is the case, I want to be an Irregular, too.”

Miss Wheaton frowned. “We’ve never had a student who refused to join change her mind later.”

Tory suspected that the teacher had seen Cynthia’s interest in Allarde and was questioning the girl’s motives. With justice. If Cynthia became an Irregular, she’d be able to get much closer to Allarde. But, blast the girl; she did have a powerful glow of magic around her.

“Let me speak with Mr. Stephens.” Miss Wheaton and the other teacher moved to one side and started to talk in low voices. Tory suspected that the conversation was along the lines of “Lady Cynthia is selfish and mostly concerned with stalking Allarde” versus “but she does have a great deal of power, and we can always put a dream spell on her and send her away if she causes trouble.”

After the consultation, Mr. Stephens put the Irregulars to studying while Miss Wheaton returned to Cynthia. “Your desire to serve is commendable,” she said with a hint of irony in her tone. “Because you refused to join us before, we’ve decided that you must accept a special spell for the rest of this term. Are you willing?”

“What would it do?” Cynthia asked suspiciously.

“You won’t be able to speak of the Labyrinth or the Irregulars when you’re aboveground. That seems reasonable since you’ve changed your mind twice now.”

Cynthia slanted another glance at Allarde. “I’ll accept it,” she said ungraciously.

“Very well. Tory, tonight you’ll work with Elspeth on your healing because I will need to explain more about the Labyrinth to Miss Stanton.”

“I suppose I must thank you for leading me here to join in such valuable work,” Cynthia said with false sweetness.

“No need to thank me,” Tory replied with equal falseness. Trying not to appear as if she cared, she turned to seek out Elspeth.

At least she would no longer have to dress in the cold, drafty corridor before heading to the Labyrinth.

CHAPTER 16

Elspeth and Tory escorted Cynthia back to the school when the study session was over. During the final joining circle, Tory had been able to identify Cynthia’s energy, which was restless and unhappy. No wonder she was always so bad tempered. Tory felt a little more sympathy with her roommate but suspected that as an Irregular, Cynthia would be a disruptive force.

As they left the hall, Cynthia said waspishly, “Don’t think that I’ll treat either of you like friends just because we’re studying magic together.”

“Can we count on that?” Tory purred.

As Cynthia scowled, Elspeth asked, “I see an angry red glow around your lower abdomen. Do you have cramps?”

“What business is it of yours?” the other girl snapped.

“It might explain some of your bad temper,” Elspeth said tartly. “If you like, I can take the pain away.”

Cynthia hesitated, torn between misery and accepting help from a girl she despised. “What would you do?”

“Place my hand on your abdomen and send healing energy into the pain. It will only take a few minutes.”

“She’s really good,” Tory said helpfully. “But you probably deserve to suffer, so I hope you refuse.”

Looking daggers at Tory, Cynthia said, “Go ahead. My father always said that magical healing was just a hum.”

“Then he’s never experienced it. Hold still.” Elspeth stepped close to Cynthia and gently rested her open hand on the other girl’s lower abdomen. Cynthia flinched at the touch but didn’t pull away.

Elspeth closed her eyes, her expression abstracted. Tory could see the flow of white healing energy moving from Elspeth.

After a minute or two, Cynthia gasped, “I feel better!”

“Give me another few minutes and you’ll feel better yet,” Elspeth promised.

The three of them stood in silence until Elspeth opened her eyes. “That should hold until your courses are done in another two days.”

Cynthia said grudgingly, “Perhaps healing isn’t a hum.”

“Even the most stiff-necked aristocrats are usually willing to hire healers when ill,” Elspeth said dryly. “A pity your father wasn’t so flexible. Your mother might still be alive.”

Cynthia turned white and spun around, almost running down the corridor. Elspeth sighed. “That wasn’t kind of me, but she can be … trying.”

“Be grateful you don’t room with her,” Tory replied. “Luckily, she mostly ignores me.”

They reached a cross passage. Elspeth said, “I’ll take this other route to the school. That’s cowardly of me, but I can tell myself that I’m being considerate of Cynthia’s feelings since she probably doesn’t want to see me again.”

“Definitely cowardly,” Tory agreed. “Sleep well, and thank you for the healing lesson. I’ll never be as good as you, but I was able to provide some help for two of the boys who were bruised from playing football.”

Elspeth turned left while Tory followed Cynthia at a slower pace. She found her roommate at the end of the passage muttering oaths as she tried to open the door to the refectory cellar. She turned to scowl at Tory. “I thought you two had abandoned me down here.”

“I wouldn’t do that to anyone.” The words
even you
hung unspoken in the air. Tory stood on her toes to touch the silvery patch that controlled the door. Silently it swung open.

“How did you do that?” Cynthia demanded.

“The tunnels have color keys to guide people through the maze down here. This one is silver”—Tory touched the colored patch again and the door closed—“which is the hardest color to see against the white chalk. Only those who have magical ability can see the colors and use them to open doors.”

Cynthia touched the silvery glow, smiling involuntarily as it opened, then closed again with a second touch. “This is rather fun. How many tunnels are there?”

“A lot. I’m beginning to know the ones that start on the girls’ side of the school, but there are at least as many to the boys’ side, and others that start outside the abbey. That’s how the village students come.”

Cynthia’s scowl returned. “I never thought I’d be associating with village hearth witches! You seem to like magic even though it’s destroying your life. You’ll never make a decent marriage if you let the world know you’re a mage.”

“You are joining the Irregulars yourself,” Tory pointed out.

“If I can help drive off invaders by using my magic, I will,” Cynthia said. “But I’m not going to proclaim myself a mage to the world!”

At least Cynthia was honest about her mixed feelings. Though Tory’s feelings were similar, she didn’t talk about them. “My idea of a decent marriage is changing. Perhaps no lord will want me, but there are other good men in the world. Lots more than there are lords.”

Cynthia’s elegant nose wrinkled. “You mean disgusting commoners like that blond boy from the village?”

“Jack Rainford? He’s a commoner, but he’s not disgusting,” Tory said cheerfully. “He’s intelligent, amusing, a powerful mage, and good-looking. A girl could do worse.”

Cynthia snorted her disagreement and opened the door to the basement again. “Thankfully not all the boys in the Irregulars are…” her voice disappeared as she stepped through the door. Astounded, she turned to Tory. After clearing her throat, she said, “I lost my voice for a moment!”

“The spell,” Tory said. “You can’t talk about the school on the surface.”

Cynthia looked ready to explode. She stepped back into the tunnel and snarled, “This is
damnable
!”

Then she stamped into the cellar by the light of her fading mage light. Tory followed at a slower pace. How long until Cynthia quit again?

Not long, Tory suspected. Not long at all.

*   *   *

But Cynthia came to the next class, and the one after, and the one after that. Her expression was grim and the silk gowns she wore seemed too fancy for studying magic, but she came. Though her magical ability was untrained, she had a definite talent for weather working. That meant she had to practice with Jack, the “disgusting commoner.”

Naturally, Jack flirted with Cynthia constantly. Tory was amused but also felt a certain grudging respect for her roommate’s tenacity.