"I think I know how to do that." Nikolai smiled tiredly. "There is nothing like being mauled by negative energy to understand it better. Let me think about it for a few days. Then we can have another meeting of wardens."
Looking a little more cheerful, Buckland said, "I'll look forward to it. As for tonight, or rather this morning, I know just the inn. It's very quiet and comfortable."
They followed him through the palace to the street and saw that dawn was just beginning to show in the east. Parliament sessions usually began in midafternoon and ran into the night, and debates could last until the sun rose. Jean tucked her hand into the crook of Nikolai's elbow. "A new day dawning. I like the symbolism."
"We knew this would take time." He gave her a half smile. "And we have more time than most."
At first Adia didn't understand the tremendous pull on her mind and power. She staggered to her bed and fell back dizzily. What…?
Gradually she realized that her power was being pulled into the web that she suspected had been constructed by Jean and the captain to battle slaver energies. A great struggle was taking place, and the web was reaching through time to Adia. She felt Jean very vividly, the captain rather less.
Gradually the drain on her energy faded and she knew that the web had survived its test. A pity she would never know what happened.
But at least she was able to help, even buried here in the past.
The inn was all that Buckland promised, and a clerk was willing to check strangers in at dawn. When they reached their room, Nikolai was tempted to fall onto the bed without even undressing, but he'd feel better later if he stripped. With a sigh, Jean did the same. "It's been a long day. Three years long."
"But we survived. For a few moments there, I thought I might not." As Kondo's knife descended, Nikolai had been struck with two thoughts: He didn't want to die before their mission was done. And he didn't want to leave Jean.
As she released her hair and loosely braided it, he found that he was not too tired to admire her. If she hadn't had the strength to hold the shield together when it began to unravel, men like Clarkson and Wilberforce would be vulnerable again. Though antislavery sentiment had grown strong, leaders were still needed, and it would take time for new ones to appear if the present ones were struck down.
He came up behind Jean and put his arms around her waist, bending to kiss the side of her neck. She melted back in his arms, eyes closed. "You can do that again if you like," she murmured.
Encouraged, he kissed her ear as his hands came up to cup her breasts. "You're probably too tired for this," he said, not wanting to be too demanding.
She laughed and turned in his arms so she could slide her arms around his neck. "I work with energy all the time. Why is this the only activity that gives us both more energy than when we started?"
"An interesting question." He lifted her and laid her on the bed. "We can talk about it tomorrow."
Jean was right. Afterward, he had more energy than when he started.
It took over a month, but Jean and Nikolai were able to enhance the shield net by drawing on the energy of abolitionists across a good part of Britain. Though the new people had little power individually, together their support of abolition strengthened the shield net substantially.
Having visited Kofi and his family and the Falconers, it was now time to move on. They paid the bill at the inn and found a half-empty storeroom at the back of the building that would be a convenient departure point.
Jean pulled Adia's bracelet from her wrist and contemplated it. "There is only one spell bead left. I've been hoping that it will take us home again—to 1753 and Santola. Is it possible that the work we've done so far is enough so that we can go home now? Or do you think that another critical point needs our attention?" She sighed. "Or is slavery too huge and intractable for the ancestors' magic to make a difference?"
"I don't know," Nikolai said quietly. "Since our first visit twenty-six years ago, we have seen great change in the hearts and minds of the British people. Just as Adia said, the mass of people are rising up and saying 'Enough!'"
"At the beginning, you and I protected individuals," she said thoughtfully. "Now we are protecting the spirit of the movement itself. Within a few years, the movement and the desire for liberty may be so strong that we are not needed. That would be my hope. That, and having the last bead take us back where we began. But...it might not. It may take us further into the future and leave us there."
"Can you bear it if we must live our lives out in a distant time?"
"I'll have no choice, will I?" She smiled wryly. "I will be sorry not to see family and friends again, but thinking of the separations and privations that Adia has endured puts my situation into perspective. I can learn to prosper in a new time. And I won't be alone—the Guardians never abandon their own."
"You are fortunate to have so many people you cherish." He almost managed to keep envy out of his voice, but not quite.
She looked up at him, thinking how far they had come since they met in the warehouse in Marseilles. "What of you, Captain? When the great goal of your life, ending slavery, is accomplished, what will you do?"
He shrugged. "I am still a sailor, and I can always find work on the sea. I would want to visit Santola to find if the island still flourishes, and if there is a place for me. If I'm even still remembered."
"You will be remembered." She noticed that neither of them spoke of their relationship. Would they separate and go their individual ways? Or would the bonding that had made them an effective antislavery tool remain when their task was done?
Impossible to say. She got to her feet and positioned the last bead in the center of her palm. When it was gone, the bracelet would be a rather plain collection of small beads strung too loosely for the length of its cord. "Shall we take the final step and see where it leads us?"
"Let us hope for no surprises." He clasped her hand, and together they began to activate the spell. Jean closed her eyes and prayed that she would open them again to find Santola in her own time.
Chapter
THIRTY-SEVEN
The passage through time was very smooth, hardly more distracting than walking through a dark room. They landed with a thump in a house—and it wasn't Nikolai's villa in Santola. Jean swallowed hard, trying not to weep at the knowledge that she would never see her home and family again. Despite her attempts to be philosophical about this possibility, the reality was crushing.
Fighting her disappointment, Jean released Nikolai's hands and studied the room. "This appears to be a bedroom in a London town house, a rather grand one. Can you sense our location?"
"Definitely London." He sighed, as disappointed as she. "I'm sorry, Jean. I would also like to go home, but the loss is greater for you."
"At least we're in England, not High Barbary." She walked to the window and glanced down into the street. It was midafternoon, judging by the light, and sometime in winter. The house was set on one of London's pretty squares designed around a small park. "Mayfair, I think, though I don't believe I've ever been inside this house. Clearly we have more work to do."
She saw several women walking past and sucked in her breath. "We may have traveled a great distance forward. I see women wearing gowns that are scarcely more than shifts!" The high-waisted gowns were flowing and pretty, but wouldn't have been decent in any time period Jean had seen.
"As a man, I approve of the style," Nikolai said when he joined her at the window. "The men's clothing hasn't changed as much, and those women over there are wearing fuller garments. Perhaps a new style is coming in but not yet established."
Jean studied the street scene more carefully. "You're right—I was so startled by the new that I missed the familiar. Perhaps we haven't moved as far as I thought."
They heard firm steps approaching and looked at each other warily. They were in a stranger's house with no more reason than if they were burglars. Nikolai took her hand. "The ancestors haven't let us down yet."
&n
bsp; The door swung open, and she squeezed his hand hard as a woman entered. It took Jean a moment to recognize Lady Bethany March, Falconer's daughter. She had been part of the shield net from the beginning, and she upheld the family tradition of great power. As controlled as her father, she scarcely blinked at seeing them. "My brother told me how he found you on a street, but thumping into my house definitely trumps that. Welcome, travelers!"
"The ancestors are developing ever better aim, I think," Jean said. "What year is this? Clothing has changed considerably."
"We are in 1807, sixteen years after your previous visit." A mature woman in her fifties, Bethany looked well in one of the slim, graceful new gowns. "Wilberforce has introduced antislave trade bills faithfully over the years. One even passed, only to fail in the House of Lords. But conditions have changed, and this time there's a good chance of passage." She looked hopeful. "Perhaps you are here to tip the balance for victory."
"Lord Buckland thought that in 1791. Instead, we seemed to have arrived there to limit the damage," Nikolai said wryly. "How have conditions changed?"
"Come to my sitting room for tea while I explain." She ushered them through the length of the house to a handsome set of rooms that looked into the back garden. After ringing for tea, she moved to a side door and opened it to say, "Mary, some old friends have arrived. Will you join us?"
A tall, dark-skinned woman entered. Nikolai exlaimed, "Mary Andrews! How good to see you again."
She smiled. "It's Mary Owens now. I'm Lady Beth's secretary."
"And I'll wager you create much mischief between you." Curious, Jean added, "Owens is a Guardian name, though not exclusively, of course."
Mary nodded. "My husband is a Guardian. Our children have some interesting skills among them!"
"Much of Mary's work involves abolition," Bethany said. "My husband is a government minister, so the house has no shortage of politics. Come, sit down, and Mary and I will educate you on what has happened since your last visit."
After tea and cakes arrived, Bethany and Mary give a swift summary of how the situation had changed. "When the French Revolution turned into the Reign of Terror in 1793, Britain declared war on France. We've been fighting ever since, except one brief period," Bethany explained. "Because of the war and the general fear of anything that might be considered radical, the government did its best to suppress all groups calling for reform, which hurt the antislavery societies. The movement fell into near paralysis."
"There was also a great revolt by slaves and mulattos in the French colony of St. Domingue." Mary picked up the thread. "Both the French and the British fought to suppress the rebellion, but they failed. The colony has become the free black nation of Haiti." She made no attempt to keep the pride from her voice. "Not only did it prove how well Africans can fight, but since the island is not under French control, British planters in the Indies can no longer say they must keep their slaves in order to compete with the French. Also, British soldiers who fought the black rebels do not want to fight them again to support slavery, which many common soldiers despise."
"A successful slave revolt would make all the planters in the Indies anxious," Nikolai said thoughtfully. "If slaves can be successful on one island, they can be successful on others. So perhaps it is better if they are not slaves."
Bethany refreshed the tea in the cups. "The French have vacillated—so very French! In a burst of idealism, they declared all slaves free. In 1794, I think. But then one of their generals, Napoleon Bonaparte, declared himself to be an emperor and France is no longer so free and idealistic. One of the effects of that is that the French are now trying to restore slavery."
"They've opened Pandora's box." Jean took two more cakes. Time travel always made her hungry. "Men who have been freed will not willingly accept chains again."
"So the French have found." Bethany smiled mischievously. "A delightful aspect of this is that now Britons can prove themselves more virtuous than the French simply by opposing slavery. It has been a great boon to our cause."
Jean and Nikolai laughed. "Make a man feel superior for agreeing with you and the battle is half won," she said. "So all of these developments are making abolition of the slave trade more likely?"
"All this, plus there was one other master stroke," Mary said.
"One of the staunchest abolitionists is a very clever marine lawyer named James Stephen," Bethany continued. "He lived in the Indies for some years and truly loathes slavery. He wrote a book explaining how even though the British Navy has blockaded France, the French have maintained a most profitable trade by using the ships of neutral nations such as America. If our navy captured such ships, it would impede the French and be very profitable for the naval vessels making such captures. Stephen persuaded Wilberforce to introduce a bill granting permission to capture any neutral ships aiding France. It sounded very patriotic and passed without much notice."
Mary offered the plate of cakes around again. Both Jean and Nikolai accepted more. Jean was glad to know she wasn't the only one who was ravenous. "What most people didn't realize," Mary explained, "is that many of those so-called neutral ships are really British. The only thing American is the flag. So Mr. Stephen's law has ended up hindering the British slave trade!"
"Is that not delicious?" Bethany said. "Even though abolition groups were suppressed during the nineties, it turned out that people's feelings hadn't changed. The movement has come back and is stronger than ever. In the last parliamentary election, more abolitionist MPs were elected to office. Wilberforce's bill to abolish the slavery bill is being debated even as we speak, and soon there will be a vote."
Nikolai closed his eyes. "The pro-and antislavery spirits are locked in a mortal embrace, aren't they? With so many people passionately caring on both sides, there is a huge amount of energy involved."
"The shield net is stronger now than when you were here before, but it will need all of its strength to keep the Demon at bay during the voting," Mary said seriously. "If left to their own consciences, a majority of MPs would vote for the bill, I think. We must make sure that nothing happens to poison their minds and change their votes."
"Which is where we come in." Jean set down her empty teacup, feeling very calm. "If the bill passes in the Commons, will it have a chance of passing in the House of Lords and being signed by the king?"
"There is reason to believe that the movement has become so strong that they will agree." Bethany bit her lip. "I keep telling myself that because I don't want to believe otherwise. We shall find out soon enough, I think. If you're ready, we can go to Westminster now."
"Could we refresh ourselves first?" Jean asked.
"Sorry, I should have thought of that," Bethany said apologetically. "You can use the guest room where you arrived."
"The accuracy of the ancestors is truly amazing." Nikolai stood. "Is the voting likely to take place today? The spirit energies feel very, very intense."
Bethany nodded. "It should be in the next few hours. I thought to take you to the same box where you watched before. Will that do?"
"It will." Jean also rose. "Let us hope we need do nothing more than watch."
Nikolai found it a little eerie to return to the site of their last encounter with Parliament. The private box was the same, if a little shabbier. The galleries were just as full, though clothing fashions had changed. Many of the faces were the same, though worn by almost twenty more years of living. Even the background energies were the same, though they were now perilously intense.
After he settled down with Jean, Bethany, and Mary, he tuned in to the dueling entities. The shield net was balancing the Demon, but it was difficult. The pro-slavery energy was tense and skittish, as if dimly aware that its existence was threatened. He tuned in more and more finely, ignoring the debate below, until he found what he was looking for. He caught his breath.
Acutely aware of him, Jean said, "What did you find?"
"Kondo has traveled into a parallel world and is lashing up the dark
energy like a man whipping a team of horses." Even as he monitored Kondo, he felt the Demon grow. "Damnation! He is drawing dark energies from other parts of the world—Africa, Asia, the West Indies. Anywhere there is slave energy and intense misery."
Jean frowned. "Can he use that energy to flood Parliament and poison people's minds against abolition?"
Nikolai analyzed what he was sensing. "I think that's what he intends. He may have enough power to physically harm some of the most passionate abolitionists, as he did with Wilberforce."
Jean's face whitened. "The shield net won't be able to hold him off?"
"He is drawing from a much larger population. Even if you could connect with the energy of every abolitionist in Europe, I don't think it would be as strong."
"Maybe not, but I will certainly try," she said grimly.
Nikolai thought back to his initiation and the many parallel worlds he had visited. Now he saw that his travels had all been preparation for this. "I think I can reach him on that other world and perhaps stop him there before he can release his destruction."
"That sounds dangerous."
"Very likely. But this is the climax of our mission, Jean." He caught her gaze. "We both pledged our lives if necessary. Up till now, there has been little danger to us. Tonight we face the ultimate challenge."
She nodded, grief in her eyes, but she made no effort to dissuade him. "I shall make the shield as strong as I can. Take whatever protective energy you need. I swear there will be enough." Bethany and Mary, who were listening, nodded grave agreement.
"Then, I shall begin, and pray I reach him in time." Nikolai moved his chair back so he could rest his head against the wall. He relaxed his body while focusing his mind to a narrow blade. Then he followed the track of the dark energy.
He spun through a kaleidoscope of sensations—light and dark, form and chaos, cacophony and bone-chilling silence, searing flames and paralyzing cold. They were different worlds that must be crossed to reach the hell where Kondo's spirit was working.
A Distant Magic Page 33
