Dark Mirror (23 page)

Cynthia broke the startled silence. “A likely story!”

“That is exactly how Merlin’s mirrors are supposed to behave,” Mr. Stephens said. “Few people can work the magic, but for someone who has the gift, they are a portal to different times. I assume you stayed at Lackland?”

She nodded. “The abbey was in ruins, so I walked out into the village. In 1940, they’re also facing war and invasion, too, only from the Germans, not the French.”

“Our kings are German and the German states are our friends,” Jack said.

“Not in 1940.” Tory accepted a mug of hot, heavily sugared tea from Rachel. “Thank you! Time travel makes me ravenous.” After a bracing swallow, she continued. “I found future Rainfords. I don’t know how they would be related to you and Jack, but they are certainly related.”

“Really?” Rachel looked delighted. “Are they mages, too?”

“They have talent, but magic has largely disappeared in 1940. The Rainfords—Nick and Polly and their mother—asked me to teach them to use their abilities, so I stayed for several days. They need magic for their war as we need it for ours.”

Almost everyone present started throwing questions at Tory, but Miss Wheaton held up a hand to block the torrent. “We are all perishing to learn more, but now you need sleep. Be ready to answer questions at our next meeting!”

“I won’t answer all of them.” Tory thought about what Mrs. Rainford had said. “I think it’s better we not know too much about the future.”

“You may be right, but we’ll still ask.” Jack collected his sister. “We’re off now, but at the least, we’re going to want to learn about those descendants of ours!”

Tory smiled. “I’m not sure if you and Nick would be friends or hate each other.”

He grinned. “A pity we’ll never find out.”

A pity Polly and Rachel wouldn’t meet, either. Polly had said she wanted a sister. “I’m so glad to be home,” Tory said. “I didn’t know if I could come back.”

Allarde had been listening quietly, and she saw in his eyes that he understood how frightened she’d been at the prospect of being marooned in another time. “But you’re here,” he said, “and for that we give thanks.”

Elspeth stood. “Come along now. You look ready to drop in your tracks.”

There was no point in dropping when Allarde was heading in the opposite direction and couldn’t pick her up, so Tory rose and followed Elspeth toward the blue tunnel. Cynthia followed.

As they entered the passage, Tory touched the color code. As it flared brighter, she said, “These had faded to almost nothing. Both the extra magic of the Labyrinth and the magical suppression above the surface diminished with time.”

“What was the future like?” Elspeth asked.

When Tory hesitated, wondering what to say, Cynthia said acidly, “I think she made it up so she’d sound interesting.”

Tory pulled out the coins Nick had given her. “Did I make these up?”

The other girls stopped to examine the money. “This penny has the date 1901 and a queen on it, not a king!” Elspeth brightened a mage light to see more clearly. “It says Queen Victoria. Perhaps you have a distinguished future ahead of you, Tory!”

Tory laughed. “You can tell by the engraving that she’s from the House of Hanover. Probably a descendant of our King George. I quite like the idea of a queen ruling. We haven’t had one since Queen Anne, and that’s been almost a century.”

“This ha’penny says George V, 1935.” Cynthia handed it back to Tory. “The Prince of Wales will be George IV when his father dies, so there must be some other names between now and then.”

“Victoria, and maybe some Edwards and Williams,” Tory said. “Royalty isn’t very imaginative with names.” She put the coins away, thinking she’d have to find a good hiding place for them.

When they left the tunnel and emerged into the refectory cellar, the suppression of her magic was smothering. After several days of having full use of her power, she missed it more than ever. The disadvantage of returning to the abbey. But worth it.

When the three of them reached the dormitory, Elspeth touched Tory’s arm in a silent good night before entering her room. Tory and Cynthia continued on to the end of the corridor. A dim lamp was burning in the bedroom.

As Cynthia turned up the flame, Tory saw that the other girl’s belongings were strewn over Tory’s bed and chair. “I see you weren’t joking about wanting all of the space,” Tory said dryly as she started collecting garments from her bed.

“The room had to look occupied,” Cynthia retorted. “I told the teachers you were sick and couldn’t come to your classes, so no one would know you were gone.”

“That was good of you,” Tory said, surprised. “Less chance for trouble.”

“I thought you might have run away and needed a head start,” the other girl said in a low voice. “But when there was no word, I started wondering if you’d fallen off the cliff when you were trying to escape.”

Heavens, the glittering Lady Cynthia had actually been worried! “Thank you,” Tory said. “If you aren’t careful, I might start thinking you have a heart.”

“At least I’m used to you as a roommate,” Cynthia said waspishly. She turned off the lamp, leaving Tory in the dark.

Grinning, Tory dumped Cynthia’s clothes in the other girl’s side of the room before undressing and sliding into her bed.

Home.
Being here was so good she didn’t even mind Cynthia.

CHAPTER 24

“It’s strange to feel the mirror’s energy but be unable to see or access it,” Miss Wheaton said as she warily touched the blaze of invisible power that marked the mirror’s position. She pulled back her hand hastily. The energy might have been invisible, but it gave an uncomfortable jolt like an electrical shock.

“One must have a compelling reason to summon the mirror. Curiosity isn’t enough.” Tory pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders. Being so close to the mirror’s power made her nervous. “How often does one need to go to another time?”

In the week since her return, life had settled back to normal. No one in the school had questioned the story of her being ill, and she’d quietly resumed her regular classes and her sessions in the Labyrinth.

Miss Wheaton and Mr. Stephens had asked her many questions about her trip through time, and she’d told them what she knew of the magic if not the history. But they hadn’t asked her to visit the site of the mirror until tonight. The regular session was over and the only people left in the Labyrinth were the teachers and prefects who stayed late.

“I suppose you’re right that curiosity isn’t enough,” Mr. Stephens said with regret. His eyes were closed and he’d been trying hard to summon the mirror with no success. “But the portal surely would be interesting to study.”

“Perhaps the problem is that only Tory has the right magic to invoke the mirror.” Miss Wheaton glanced at Tory. “Would you be willing to try summoning it?”

“No!” Tory shook her head and retreated several steps. “I’m quite sure that the mirror wouldn’t take kindly to being summoned merely to be studied. If it comes when I call, I think I’d have to use it. On both my trips through the portal, I felt as if I was being dragged through by the magic, and I do not want to do that again!”

“What did going through feel like?” Jack Rainford had accompanied them to the dead-end tunnel. He and his sister were particularly interested in the mirror because of the knowledge that Tory had met future Rainfords.

“Like being chopped into small pieces, boiled up in a laundry tub, and then put back together,” Tory said tartly. “I do not recommend the experience.”

“I’d like to see one of those flying machines, though,” Jack said wistfully. “It didn’t sound anything like a hot air balloon.”

Miss Wheaton turned back toward the hall. “I found some interesting research, Tory. It suggests that a person who has mirror magic can take others through with her.”

Tory thought of Nick’s comment about dancing through time. “So I could take your hand and you could take Mr. Stephens’s and he could hold Jack’s hand and we could go through like a line of country dancers?”

“I think so, though that’s a guess.” Miss Wheaton smiled. “But we’d need a good reason. Come along now. Time we went home for the night.”

As the small group returned to the main hall, Tory hoped that fascination with the mirror would fade soon. She was getting tired of talking about it. Though it was an interesting artifact, it was like her ability to float: not especially useful.

When Tory reached the hall, Elspeth and Allarde were putting away tea mugs under Cynthia’s bored gaze. Most Irregulars helped with the chores of maintaining the Labyrinth whether they were aristocrats or the children of field laborers, since what earned respect in the Labyrinth was magical ability. But Tory had yet to see Cynthia turn her pale white hands to anything resembling work. Her roommate always stayed late because the prefects stayed and Allarde was a prefect. Apparently Cynthia continued to hope that his unwavering courtesy would someday become a warmer feeling.

Allarde was most relaxed with Elspeth because they were cousins and had known each other before being packed off to Lackland. But Tory he still avoided. He was very discreet about it. She was probably the only one who noticed. Though she told herself it was because he cared, it still hurt. Couldn’t they be friends even if the time and place were wrong for anything more to develop? But no, he just watched her with grave eyes and kept his distance.

Elspeth covered a yawn. “I’m tired. Are you ready to go back, Tory?”

“Indeed I am.” In the last two sessions, Tory had started tutoring less advanced students. She suspected that her energy-blending ability allowed her to transfer her own understanding of a magical act directly to the student, but the work was tiring.

Tory and Elspeth headed across the hall to a tunnel that led to the girls’ school. They’d almost reached the passage when Tory halted and looked back.

“Tory?” Elspeth turned, her expression inquisitive.

“I thought I heard my name being called.”

The cry came again, and this time the frantic words were intelligible. “Tory? Tory, are you here?”

Tory spun around. The voice was familiar, and it came from the tunnel that led toward Merlin’s mirror. Everyone who’d stayed late was in the main hall or in the process of leaving, so who could be calling from there?

“Tory!” The hoarse voice was closer, almost to the main hall.

Surely it couldn’t be…! Heart racing, Tory darted across the hall to the tunnel.

A figure staggered out of the entrance holding a dim mage light. Fair hair, tan trousers, a brown tweed jacket, and looking like the next thing to a corpse. A very familiar corpse.

“Nick!” Tory caught his arm, thinking that if she looked this bad when she emerged from the mirror, no wonder everyone had been worried.

“Tory?” he said hazily as he sagged against her.

Then Allarde was at his other side, taking most of Nick’s weight. Jack took over for Tory and the two young men guided Nick to the nearest sofa, helping him stretch out on the cushions.

Tory bent over him. “Nick, it’s me, Tory. Are you all right?”

Mr. Stephens and Miss Wheaton arrived, Elspeth and Cynthia right behind. Nick blinked up at Tory. “I … I made it here. I wasn’t sure if I could find your time.”

“You’re in 1803 about a week after I came back.” She rubbed his cold hands, trying to warm them. “Could someone make him some hot tea?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Rachel said. She was almost as good a hearth witch as Alice.

Miss Wheaton brought one of the old blankets that were kept in the hall and spread it over Nick, who was shaking with cold. Tory thought his passage through the mirror had been even more difficult than hers. The hot tea came quickly, along with the last pieces of shortbread. When Miss Wheaton wrote notes on mirror magic for the records, she should list that hot, sweet tea helped with recovery.

As color returned to Nick’s face, Tory knelt by the sofa, still holding his hand. “Why did you come, Nick? Has something terrible happened?”

He tried to focus on her. “Remember I told you the Nazis were sweeping across Belgium and France with their lightning war and the Allies were trying to stop them?”

She thought back. “Yes, and your father is with the army, in the British Expeditionary Force. Has he been hurt?”

“I don’t know!” Nick looked ready to weep. “Tory, it’s all fallen apart so fast we’re having trouble believing it. The Allies are being crushed. They’ve lost most of their armor and a huge part of the BEF has been cut off from the army farther south. They’re being pushed back to the channel at Dunkirk, a little French port that’s almost in Belgium. Calais and Boulogne are under attack, and it’s just a matter of time till the bloody Germans overrun Dunkirk, too.”

“Has the British army become so weak?” Mr. Stephens asked in a hushed voice.

“No, but the Nazis have come up with new weapons and battle tactics the Allies weren’t prepared for. They have Panzer tanks—great metal vehicles that move fast and are very hard to stop. They ran around the French fortresses,” Nick replied. “Europe is a shambles. Holland has surrendered, Belgium is on the verge, France is falling, and England … England will be next. It’s happened in a matter of weeks.”