Home From The Sea: The Elemental Masters, Book Seven (21 page)

The dining car was the equal of any restaurant that Lord Alderscroft had ever taken them to, and so was the menu. Nan was in heaven. She did enjoy her food, and she and Sarah had endured many an absolutely horrid meal to and from Sarah’s parents’ mission in Africa. Andrew came more to life over the table, and at Sarah’s prompting, told them stories of how things were at Cambridge for a second year student. Nan was quite content just to listen.

Finally Sarah sighed. “I would love to go to university,” she said wistfully.

“Why not go, then?” Andrew asked. “There are colleges for women.”

“Because neither Oxford nor Cambridge will allow us degrees, so what’s the point?” Sarah retorted sharply, at odds with her usual good humor.

That occasioned some silence. “What would you do with a degree if you had one?” he asked, finally.

“The same thing that a man would.” Sarah looked him in the eyes and dared him to contradict her. He looked suitably cowed. “There are plenty of men out there who do absolutely nothing with their degrees other than to reminisce about their days at university and impress people who don’t have one,” she continued crossly. “At least I would make some use of it.”

He quickly changed the subject.

She was in better humor over the tea, and they returned to their compartment with Nan, at least, feeling entirely pleased with the world. They were greeted enthusiastically by the birds, which were perched politely on either side of a sturdy wooden smoking stand set in front of the window, with papers underneath them, and saucers of water and biscuits in front of them. The contraption had a pair of protrusions that were exactly like perches, perfect for the birds. It also had heavy wrought-iron feet, so unless the train came to a
very
abrupt stop, the birds were unlikely to get thrown off it.

“Great Harry’s ghost!” Nan exclaimed. “What a clever fellow that steward is!”

“Nice man,” Grey said complacently.

B
IRMINGHAM
was horrid.

The smoke from thousands of factory chimneys hung low in the air and could be seen from well outside the city. Not only did the birds go into their carriers, but Andrew suggested, and carried out, the precaution of wetting the gauze they layered over the netting “windows” before they fastened the flaps down over them. Nan was glad that they had, for the gauze was grey when she took it out.

The trip until then had been lovely; the train had gone through Reading, Didcot, Oxford, Banbury, and Leamington Spa, stopping at each station, but not for terribly long. By unspoken consent, they took the opportunity to plumb Andrew’s brain for ideas on how to go about their appointed task.

“What would you do in order to locate an unknown new Elemental Master if the Elementals refused to tell you who it was or where he was?” Nan asked bluntly. The birds turned their attention from the landscape rolling past to the occupants of their room.

Andrew blinked. “Is that what Lord A wants you to do?” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking puzzled. “I suppose if the Elementals are holding mum on the subject and they aren’t afraid, he
reckons that you’ve got as good a chance as anyone else he knows of. And you can’t exactly hire an investigator and tell him you’re looking for a magician.”

“True, true. So? Where would you start?”

Andrew drummed his fingers absently on the arm of his chair, brows furrowed, thinking hard. “Well… a lone Master, just beginning… and up there on the coast… he can’t really know anyone, since if he did, it would be one of us, and Lord Alderscroft would have gotten word by now.”

“It might be a she,” Sarah pointed out. “That alone might be why the Elementals won’t tell him. Lord A is a dear, but…” she made a face, “he hasn’t got a high opinion of women in general. I think he thinks that Memsa’b and Nan and I are the exceptions that prove the rule.”

Andrew nodded earnestly. “That might be. Or could still be
he
, but someone very common. Actually, all alone on the coastline, that’s a near certainty.
And
Welsh. So there’re more problems. Does he even know what Element?”

“Water,” said Nan immediately.

“So, he’s Fire, that’s Water’s antagonist… there’s another reason why the Elementals might stay dumb. Working man—”

“Or woman,” Sarah insisted.

“Or woman, Water, Welsh, and without a regular Master to teach him. Plenty of reasons for Water Elementals not to talk about him to a great Fire Master. For all
they’d
know, Lord A would be looking for him to crush him.”

“So who would be teaching him or her?” Nan wanted to know.

“Could be the Elementals themselves. If the mage is powerful enough? Could do them damage without even knowing, and certainly without intending it, so it would be in the Elementals’ interest to teach him.” Andrew nodded, to emphasize his own statement. “It’s not unknown. And after all, someone had to teach the first Elemental Masters, aye? Likely it was the Elementals then, too.”

Or Puck
, Nan mouthed at Sarah, who nodded slightly. Yet another reason why the Elementals would have remained quiet. Lord
Alderscroft himself had hinted that the Great Powers might be involved. If not Puck, well, there could be a sea-born equivalent to the Oldest Old One.

“So… how would I go about looking for him…” Andrew thought some more. “I expect I’d go looking for where Elementals were thick. You get a Master, even untaught, you get a lot of Elementals about. But they probably won’t show themselves to you, and you wouldn’t see them unless they did, since you haven’t the Sight for it. So that won’t help.”

“Bother.” Nan would have said something a lot stronger, but she didn’t want to shock Andrew more than he already was.

“Now… someone coming into their magic alone, at least amongst Earth Masters, tends to keep himself to himself,” Andrew continued. “At first, you aren’t sure what’s going on. Then sometimes you think you’re going mad. Sometimes you actually do,” he added darkly. “But I guess Lord A doesn’t think that’s going to be the case here. So… I’m thinking what you might be able to find is someone who lives well away from other folks, with one or two other people at most. He’ll be on the shore or on a river or a lake. He won’t want to be far from water. And there’ll be things about him that look like uncommon luck, because the Elementals will be helping him.” He shrugged. “That’s the best I can offer. At least you’ve got a general idea of where he is.”

“An uncommonly lucky hermit by the sea…” Nan made a face. “I’m glad it’s summer. If we’re going to have to promenade up and down deserted shores, it’s a lovely time of year for it.”

The entire trip from Paddington to Shrewsbury was roughly five hours, and they put into Shrewsbury around noon.

There was just time to make the transfer to another lovely first-class carriage for the trip by express to Machynlleth.

By now they were all starving again, not wanting to chance the food stalls at the station. When Sarah asked their new steward if it would be possible to have a late luncheon, the steward actually looked offended. “This is the Cambrian Railway, miss. Everything is possible,” he said with great dignity. “I shall bring you a cold collation, if that is acceptable.”

When luncheon arrived, the “cold collation” was happily shared by the birds. There were some truly lovely cheeses, cold beef and ham, pickles of many sorts, lots of fresh fruit, and some of the best bread Nan had ever tasted. She decided that if Lord Alderscroft was going to send them careering about the countryside in the future, this sort of treatment was more than going to make up for any other hardship or difficulties.

They whiled away the time until arriving at their final transfer by interrogating poor Andrew with every question they could think to ask about Elemental magic and Masters. The poor fellow must have felt as if he was up before the Inquisition before they were through with him, but despite being associated with Lord Alderscroft, they really had never had too much to do with his
magic
, and he wasn’t the sort of man you plagued with questions. So poor Andrew had to stand substitute teacher. He did put up with it very well, and Nan, at least, got a good basic grounding in it all. Normally Nan and Sarah would have kept their hands busy with mending, but that sort of thing simply wasn’t done by girls of the class to which they supposedly belonged. They wanted to look busy so that the steward, good fellow that he was, wouldn’t interrupt them, thinking they needed something, and perhaps overhear something he shouldn’t. So they took out the sketch-books they hadn’t used since they were in school-lessons, and worked at drawings of the birds and their surroundings. The birds were perfectly fine with this; it allowed them to doze off their meal.

This train sped along without stopping at all, and had them in the station for the last transfer before five.

Here they parted from Andrew. By this point he expressed no misgiving at all as to their ability to fend for themselves, which was just as well, because they really had not wanted him to spoil the impression of a clergyman’s daughters that they needed to establish. Only the eye of a very knowledgeable person (such as the steward on a first-class carriage) would distinguish their sober suits from the same sort of thing that their personas would wear—but Andrew’s rig-out screamed “gentry.”

This last train took a good two hours to go the relatively short distance to Criccieth, not because it stopped at every station, but because this was a smaller line, and the rail right-of-way twisted and turned the entire time. The Welsh countryside was lovely, but Nan was very glad neither she nor Sarah was inclined to sea-sickness, for all the twists and bends did make for a lot of rolling of the car. This was fitted out with two beautifully upholstered bench seats, firmly attached to the floor, with a table bolted to the floor between them. Even the little oil stove was bolted down. They were both glad they had prevailed upon their steward for that late luncheon between Shewsbury and the last station.

So it was that around seven in the evening, the girls stood side-by-side in the last light on the platform at Criccieth, watching their baggage being taken off with a critical eye. Both of them were beginning to feel the journey, which at this point was well past twelve hours, and they were looking forward to its end.

A gentleman with truly formidable mutton-chop whiskers approached them diffidently. “Miss Sarah Lyon-White? Miss Annabelle Lyon-White?” he asked, peering at them. He had a definite—and rather musical to Nan’s ears—accent.

“So we are, sir.” This time Nan took charge, for Sarah was now supposed to be something of an invalid, and as fatigued as she was, she looked it. “Are you from the Lion Hotel?”

His face lit up with a smile, and he tipped his hat. “Indeed I am, indeed I am, and I am most particularly charged to see to your comfort. Are those your trunks?” He indicated the porters, who had hand-carts loaded with their luggage. Without waiting for an answer, he made little shooing motions, as if they were sheep he wanted to move along. “Come along, my dear young ladies, come along. I have the hotel conveyance waiting for you.”

It was an ancient carriage of uncertain vintage, but looking in good repair, with a crest and the words “The Lion Hotel” inscribed on the side of it. Now it was Nan’s turn to tip the porters and act like the one in charge. Now it wouldn’t matter if she made any little mistakes; from here on, they were to be the daughters of a country
clergyman, and Sarah was recovering from some unspecified shock. An extended holiday at the seaside had been prescribed, introductions to local society were in their portmanteaus as well as having been sent on ahead via Lord Alderscroft’s extended network of “mutual acquaintances,” and because Sarah was supposed to be recovering her strength, no one would be the least surprised that she and Nan took long walks, excursions in a pony car, or horseback rides. On that note, Nan was now very grateful indeed that in her youth Lord Alderscroft’s groom had persuaded her onto the back of a horse, much against her own better judgment. Riding was a skill that was likely to prove useful.

The carriage was indeed old, and much in need of new springs, but it got them to the hotel without being shaken to bits, and they arrived just at dusk to see the welcome sight of warm light coming from the many windows of the four-storied hotel. The hotel had been forewarned about the birds, though it appeared from the opulently dressed lady taking a late promenade with a little monkey on a leash that they were by no means the only guests with odd pets.

By the time they were installed in their room they were both so weary that Nan rang for a maid and ordered dinner brought to their room. This was not a luxurious room, but it was in keeping with a pair of young ladies who were well bred, in modest circumstances, but had a generous family friend. But in comparison with lodgings in Africa, this comfortable lodging might just as well have been luxury. Everything was seen to; there were even perches for the birds, created by putting pretty china pots with food and water in them on another smoking-stand. The floor had a slightly worn turkey carpet, cabbage-rose wallpaper with matching curtains, lovely oak furniture, and twin brass beds. There were flowers on the dressers, oil lamps on bedside tables, and a beautiful toilet set on the washstand. No electricity out here, of course, but the oil lamps were good ones. There was a third lamp, unlit at the moment, at a little desk, and an easy chair beside the window.