Dark Mirror (35 page)

“Nick, you brought your little sister into the middle of a war?” the captain said, still incredulous.

Nick grinned, unabashed. “Polly is as stubborn as the rest of us, Dad. She insisted on coming, and I needed an engineer.”

“I’m right here, so you don’t need to talk about me in the third person,” Polly said tartly. “If you hadn’t been fool enough to enlist, Dad, I’d be home practicing my sums instead of dodging Stukas.”

“Don’t scold him too much, Polly,” a younger man said with a grin. “If not for Captain Rainford, our whole company would have been cut up and captured.”

Another man chimed in. “We’re the rearguard volunteers who held off the Krauts while the rest of the company got away. A good thing the boat didn’t leave without us!”

Polly buried her head in her father’s ragged army jacket. “A bunch of bloody heroes!” she said, her voice muffled.

“Watch your language, young lady!” her father said in a schoolmaster voice. “You’re not too old to be spanked.”

She pulled her head back, her eyes narrowing like a furious cat’s. “I am a heroine of Dunkirk. Would you
dare
?”

“Absolutely not.” He rested his cheek on her head, tears in his eyes. Tory had never seen three people who were so filthy, exhausted, and desperately happy. Softly, Tom Rainford added, “I am so proud of both of you. Now, can we go home?”

“We’re on our way, sir.” During the Rainfords’ reunion, Allarde had brought the boat around so they were facing the channel. “Nick, you’d better take over until we’re clear of the debris and mines.”

Nick nodded, reluctantly releasing his father. As he picked his way to the wheelhouse, the other soldiers began to settle into comfortable spots. With a smaller group of passengers, there was room to spread out. A sergeant said teasingly, “Sounds like your womenfolk are going to have your hide when you get home, Captain.”

“They can have it,” Tom said with a grin.

As he took the wheel, Nick said, “Danny, your grandfather Dodge sent us off and I’ll bet you a shilling he’ll be waiting when we bring you home.”

“That’s a bet I won’t take. The gaffer spends most of his waking hours watching Lackland harbor,” retorted a redheaded young man who sat against the railing with his helmet off and something squirming inside his jacket.

Nick blinked. “Danny, your chest is behaving oddly.”

Danny unfastened the top buttons of his jacket and a scraggly little dog stuck its head out, eyes bright with interest. “Think my mum will let me have a dog now?”

“If you returned with an elephant, she’d let you keep it.” Nick turned his attention to the cluttered waters as he worked his way out. The sea was even more dangerous than when they arrived because of the ever-increasing amount of wreckage.

Tory said, “I’ll go below and make tea.” She ducked down to the galley, giving the kettle a blast of power to heat the water quickly. She also put most of the remaining food in a bag, so within a few minutes she was distributing biscuits, crackers, and small pieces of cheese. There were enough mugs to go around, so the soldiers clutched the hot drinks with blissful expressions.

When Tory collected the empty mugs and went below to brew more tea, she found Polly and her father in the cabin. Polly must have been telling her father what had been going on, because he looked at Tory in disbelief. “This child can do magic?”

“I’m not a child.” Figuring a demonstration was easiest, Tory floated one of the mugs from her hand to the galley counter. “This ship is crewed entirely by mages. Nick found you through magic, and I’m thinking you have some magical power yourself, Captain Rainford.”

He closed his gaping mouth and thought. The man badly needed a haircut, but it was easy to see why Anne Rainford had fallen in love with him. “Maybe I do. Something to think about after I return home, take a bath, and sleep in a warm bed with my wife.”

Polly sighed, her happiness fading. “You’re going to leave again, aren’t you?”

“I’m still in the army, kitten.” He put an arm around her. “But I’ll get a few days leave before I report back to duty.”

Having made her tea, Tory took the mugs above decks again, leaving Polly and her father to talk. The
Dream
had cleared the port area and was heading out into the open channel, taking the northern route they’d used when sailing over. “Nick, do you want to visit with your father? Allarde and I should be able to carry on for now.”

“Thanks, Tory.” Nick let Tory take the wheel and made his way through the soldiers, half of whom were sprawled asleep by now.

Allarde had been talking to their passengers, putting simple bandages on wounds and charming the little dog, who was apparently named Fromage, the French word for cheese. When Nick went below, Allarde moved to the wheelhouse and took over the wheel. Tory relinquished it gladly. Even in fairly calm waters, steering the boat was tiring, and she did not need to be more tired.

The wheelhouse was tight with both of them in it, and that was just the way Tory liked it. She slid a discreet arm around Allarde’s waist. “As Polly said, I do believe we’re all officially heroes now, Allarde. And we’re all hale and hearty.”

“We’re not home yet.” His gaze was on the horizon, where ships large and small were strung in both directions. “The Luftwaffe is still up there, submarines could be lurking, and if we stray outside the channel that has been cleared of mines…” He shook his head dourly.

She studied his profile. “Wouldn’t you say our circumstances are improving?”

“Indeed they are.” He smiled back, but his eyes were shadowed.

Quietly she asked, “Do you foretell danger before we reach England?”

His brow furrowed. “I’m not sure if it’s true foretelling or just general worry after two days in the middle of a battle.”

“Probably just worry. For two days, war was our world,” Tory said thoughtfully. “Now it’s quickly beginning to seem like a bad dream.”

“No doubt you’re right.” But his eyes were still shadowed as he gazed toward the white cliffs of home.

CHAPTER 36

As time passed, even Allarde relaxed. The skies were clear and sunny, which was bad in terms of being attacked by the Luftwaffe, but the soldiers were happy to doze on the warm deck. The ships heading across the channel moved at different speeds, some faster, some slower than
Annie’s Dream.

After Polly took over the helm, Tory and Allarde lounged in their usual position against the wheelhouse, discreetly holding hands. She squinted at the ship that was slowly overtaking them. “That’s a hospital ship, isn’t it? I think I see big red crosses on the funnels.”

“Yes, it was converted from a passenger ferry.” Allarde sat up straight. “Luftwaffe heading this way.”

Tory narrowed her eyes. Two airplanes were flying high over the shipping lane. It wasn’t the first time they’d seen Nazi aircraft, but she had a bad feeling about this pair. “Lucky we’re too small to interest them.”

“The hospital ship is a sizable target,” Allarde said grimly.

“Surely they wouldn’t attack a ship full of wounded men?”

He shrugged, his gaze fixed on the approaching planes. “They might not see the red crosses. Or they might not care.”

With hideous suddenness, a hell-born scream tore through the midday sky as an airplane dived shrieking toward the sea. “Damnation!” Allarde leaped to his feet. “That Stuka is going after the hospital ship!”

Tory also jumped up, unable to do anything but watch in horror as the dive-bomber roared straight down at the ship full of wounded men. A fighter plane escort followed, diving at a less dramatic angle.

“Tory, link with me!” Allarde grabbed her hand with bone-cracking force.

Time seemed to slow as the Stuka dropped its bomb and pulled out of its dive. All Tory’s anguished attention was on the bomb that sped toward the hospital ship with lethal precision.

The air almost burned as Allarde hurled all his magic at the bomb, struggling to push it away from the ship. As soon as she recognized what he was doing, Tory frantically joined her power with his, shoving at the evil bomb before it could slaughter hundreds of wounded men. Together they pushed, pushed, pushed, straining their power to the limits.

The bomb dropped just behind the hospital ship, exploding with a horrendous boom and blasting a huge wave of water in all directions. The ship rocked almost to the point of tipping over before it recovered, and the great wave surged toward the
Dream.
But they’d done it!

Tory was on the verge of cheering when the fighter plane swooped down till it was barely skimming above the water. Machine guns blazing, the fighter strafed the hospital ship. Tory winced, but it didn’t look as if the attack had done much damage.

Then everything happened at once:

Allarde shouted, “Tory! Get down!”

The Messerschmitt swung toward
Annie’s Dream,
still firing its machine guns.

Allarde wrapped himself around Tory and dived toward the deck.

Two of their passengers grabbed their rifles and began shooting at the fighter, shouting, “Murdering Nazi bastards!”

Tory hit the deck with numbing force, Allarde’s weight crushing down on her.

Bullets struck the fighter plane’s fuel tank and the aircraft exploded into flames.

The last bullets from the Messerschmitt raked across the deck of
Annie’s Dream.

The boat rolled wildly as the huge wave created by the bomb swept under them.

The Messerschmitt crashed into the sea as the BEF soldiers cheered.

And Allarde fell away from Tory, blood jetting from his throat.

Tory screamed in horror. No,
No!
She hadn’t believed he could be killed right in front of her eyes, it wasn’t fair,
it wasn’t fair
!

He rolled onto his back and she saw that a bullet had struck the right side of his neck. The wound didn’t even look deep, but a major vessel must have been ripped open. No one could survive long with blood pouring out like that, the brilliant scarlet saturating his gray guernsey.

Tory yanked out the crumpled handkerchief she’d found in Nick’s old trousers and pressed it against the wound, desperate to stop the blood flow. As long as he was bleeding, he was alive, wasn’t he?

Allarde’s eyes flickered open, the misty gray almost black as the spark of life diminished. “I’m glad … we had some time, my love.” He drew a rattling breath and his eyes closed.

“Nooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Tory called out to the heavens, reaching across the channel to touch Elspeth, demanding all the healing energy her friend had. She also grabbed at Nick and Jack and Cynthia and Mrs. Rainford, ruthlessly pulling every shred of power she could find, even the small amount that Polly had recovered.

The healing magic burned in her hands with such ferocity that she thought the blood-soaked handkerchief might burst into flames. She let it fall and pressed her palm directly on the wound.

With Elspeth’s power joined to hers, Tory had a clear sense of how the blood vessel had been damaged. A small wound, but large enough to kill in minutes. If she could repair that vessel, close the hole so the bleeding stopped before it was too late …

Dimly she felt hands on her shoulders, Nick and Polly both. And one of the soldiers, a man from Lackland who had some power and understood magic, joined them and gave what he could to Tory. There was even a trickle of untrained magic from Captain Rainford, who had taken over the helm.

She took that rush of power and fused it together, wielding the magic like a blade. As she flooded the damaged vessel with healing energy, the lethal little wound began to close. In her mind’s eye, she
saw
it closing, a fraction at a time, until the vessel was smooth and solid, blood pulsing calmly through as it was supposed to. Then the protective skin, complete with dark bristles from two days without shaving.

“Tory,” Nick’s voice said gently. “Tory, I think he’s going to be all right. The wound has stopped bleeding. Allarde’s shoulder was grazed but nothing to worry about. You can stop now.” He pried her hands away from Allarde. “Let go now, Tory. He’s going to be all right.”

Dazed, she sat back on her heels. Sure enough, the neck wound had closed and there was only a small mark left. All the soldiers had drawn back, respectfully leaving the healers room to work even if they didn’t fully understand what was happening. Perhaps because they were Lacklanders, none of them even looked surprised.

Behind them, smoke rose from the sea where the German fighter had crashed. Furiously she hoped the pilot burned in hell as much as he had on earth.

Allarde’s eyes flickered open, the spark of life bright again. His face was white, his only color the blood drying on his cheek, but he managed to whisper, “Tory, my love. Maybe … not all mortal wounds … are lethal.”

“I
told
you that if I came I’d make myself useful!” she said stupidly.

He gave a small choke of laughter. His eyes closed and she felt how desperately weak he was, but he reached feebly for her hand.