Deathspell

by Peter Dawes

  “What is it you do out there?” I murmured to the empty room, narrowing my eyes in thought. An idea sprang forth, indulging my paranoia and perhaps, to a disastrous end. As the image of my father’s killer resurfaced, however, I took a deep breath inward. “Forgive me, milady, but there is an ill omen afflicting me.” Before I could argue against the impulse, I turned from the window and strode for the nearest collection of books.

  Jane had pointed out which ones contained spells during one of our first lessons. I bypassed them, however, reasoning that if anything about her actions truly was nefarious, she wouldn’t be so apt to hand me the keys to her undoing. Pacing from one bookcase to the next, I stopped at a collection of parchments that had been rolled up and tied shut with string. The first few I unraveled looked like nonsense, and a loosely bound book underneath contained notes, but nothing of use.

  It wasn’t until I spotted another volume bearing the sigil of the Luminaries that I had any cause for hope. Snatching it from its hiding place, I brought it closer to the hearth and sat in front of the fire. Some of the spells contained in Lawrence’s book had been copied, and others excluded completely. I feverishly paged through and stopped at the unfamiliar ones, attempting to divine their purpose before moving onto the next one. One seemed tailored to draw the truth from its intended victim; another, to silence their tongue altogether. A little further, however, I stopped as I came upon a phrase I recognized and brought the book closer to my face. My eyes scanned over each word until I reached the end and took a deep breath.

  “Abscondita revelare,” I said. Reveal the hidden. The rest of what I could make out granted the spell at least enough relevance to fulfill its intended purpose. Making mental note of the page, I shut the book and spirited over to a trunk where Jane kept her magical supplies. Collecting a few candlesticks and holders, I crammed them and a piece of chalk into a linen bag and strode toward the window again.

  Unlatching the shutters, I leaned out as far as I could manage and lowered the linen bag before dropping it. It fell into a bush, which created a rustle, but masked the clang and rattle it would have made had it hit cobblestone. Once this was finished, I settled up onto the window sill, recalling my similar departure back at the inn and attempting to replicate that. I gripped onto the edge with both hands before swinging my feet over the edge. Peering at the cobblestone walk winding the perimeter of the courtyard, I aimed for it and jumped, grateful when I landed at the edge and not in the bushes.

  My knees buckled, but I landed in a crouched position without much further ruckus than the scuff of my boots from impact. I failed to stand right away. Instead, I peered from one side to the next, eyeing the door closest to where I landed and holding my breath while waiting for someone to emerge. When nobody did, I scanned the remainder of the area, making mental note of two other doors, each leading into a different wing of the estate. All remained silent, giving me the confidence to continue forth. “Should have kept a dagger on me at the very least,” I whispered while pushing to a stand.

  I plucked the bag from the bushes and walked it toward the pool. A small shiver ran from the base of my neck, down the length of my spine, and while my rational mind felt compelled to blame the chilly air, I knew better. The area bore some sort of enchantment, lending itself to even more suspicion. I lowered onto the balls of my feet again and unpacked the bag, laying out the items within to my side and producing the spell book last.

  After drawing one of the circles Jane used, I arranged her candles on each point of the star and evoked fire to light the wicks of each one. Flames rose and danced in the reflection of the water. The chill in the air started to subside and I took a deep breath, holding onto it as I opened the book and paged to the spell I had marked off. Slowly, I exhaled and kept my eyes fixed on the page while the rest of my mind went blank.

  “Ignis, veni foras,” I said, reading the first line as softly as possible. The fire perched atop each candle danced, as though listening and responding with favor. Drawing a deep breath inward, I held onto it until more words flowed past my lips, reaching to each of the elements regardless of how tentative of a grip I had on each. Waters rippled and the wind blew in gusts. The earth beneath me bent its ear in my direction and as soon as I could clutch each thread against my chest, I continued onward, binding them by the sheer force of my need to find the truth.

  I spoke the line which had attracted my attention in the first place. “Abscondita revelare.” Clenching my jaw and fixing my sights on the pool of water, I put as much weight upon those words as I could. The rest of the world gradually faded, drawing me into a deep form of meditation disturbed only so I could cast a quick glance at the next line in the spell. “Occultorum revelare. Si dissolvant circumstantia falsa.”

  Energy channeled through me and flowed back into the ground while the ripples in the pond became more agitated. My breathing became controlled, the words pouring out now in automatic as I focused more on their intention than their issuance. I asked to see what lingered just out of sight, in the corner of my eye without allowing me to capture it. The black waters drew me in, until everything within and without ceased to exist.

  And in that moment, my mind filled with images.

  Talbot. I saw him leaning over me, whispering to me and admonishing the man he had called Marcus. The man who had been haunting me since I woke with this unshakable fear. I felt frozen and accosted, filled with a rage I had to let pass through me despite my compulsion to grab hold of it. No, there were other things. Something else I had to see. The waters whispered to me, telling me not to let go just yet despite the fear joining my anger, telling me the awful truth that I had come so close to my own demise.

  ‘They want what you have,’ an indistinguishable voice spoke. One which sparked a hint of memory, as though I should know its source. ‘Keep looking, Christian. There’s more.’

  I followed the voice’s beckoning. My thoughts pressed forward, deeper into the pool, allowing it to speak to me without influencing it. My mouth might have been yet chanting the words for all I knew, the strands holding the spell together tentative through my fledgling prowess. Still, I finally saw it emerge, a vision of the courtyard. And front and center was Lady Jane herself.

  She strode toward the pond, dressed only in her nighttime garments, the hour late with a few lamps lit around the immediate vicinity. I watched as she paused beside the waters and took a deep breath, hands lifting and eyes shutting while words came pouring past her lips. Whatever incantation she spoke, it was one she’d issued countless times and the ease by which she evoked the power of nature inspired a pang of jealousy. The waters stirred and within a few moments, two figures came to life, hovering like spirits above the pool.

  Jane opened her eyes and lifted her head to regard them. I fought the urge to tense as I recognized them; the two figures who had visited me by my bedside. Talbot spoke first. “It’s been two nights since you spoke to us last,” he said. An arm extended to his side, hand pointing toward the man beside him. “I was beginning to wonder if I should send Marcus to fetch you.”

  “No, Master, I promise my absence has been for good cause,” Jane said. The way she bowed in supplication struck me as peculiar. A lady of noble birth who could not be cowed by a knight and her posture suggested Talbot had the ability to break her. She straightened to regard him again. “The rogue has settled in nicely, and relaxed enough to speak.”

  “And what has he had to say to you?”

  Her lips curled, eyes dancing with delight. “It is him, just as you suspected. He confessed it to me this very night. I cast him into a deep slumber so I might tell you the news.”

  Talbot tensed, his eyes growing wide for a moment before settling back into an impassive expression. Marcus furrowed his brow, but remained silent. “And you believe he is telling you the truth?” Talbot asked.

  “I have all assurances that he is,” she said. “His anger for us burns bright and his lips speak vows that he will be your undoing.”


  “Such audacity. I wish him luck.” Talbot folded his hands in front of his waist, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Did he mention the scroll?”

  “No, but I managed to insure further proof that he’s who he claims to be.” A smile danced across her lips. “He wears the medallion around his neck, no doubt a gift from his father.”

  Marcus shifted his weight and frowned. “Is this why it was missing from Henri’s possessions?” he asked.

  “It would stand to reason ,” Jane said with a nod. “Henri was smart. He made the most of spiriting his son away. I think the rogue is ignorant of everything else.”

  “But he didn’t mention the scroll,” Talbot chimed. He sighed and glanced away. “Don’t ask him about it. He needs to trust you and that might raise his suspicions. I think I might need to pay him a visit and see just what we’re up against.”

  “He’s pliable.” Jane’s smile broadened. “Seeks solace as most men do.”

  Talbot raised an eyebrow. “Are you playing with fire, child?”

  “Making preparations for my future, more like.” The cryptic comment hung in the air between them. Talbot honored it with a nod and Marcus remained impassive. A hint of anger – perhaps even hatred – flashed across his expression and before I could wonder at it, Jane spoke again. “He won’t give in to you easily. He resists just as much as he surrenders. Perhaps I should be the one to ask.”

  “No,” Talbot responded. His eyes found her again, the gaze severe. “I will bring Marcus. I want to see this man for myself. He might prove useful to us in other ways.”

  “Master –,” Marcus began.

  Talbot lifted a hand to rebuff him and Marcus responded by scowling and slinking back. “You said he has natural talents,” Talbot continued, “I trust this is still proving to be the case.”

  Jane nodded. “It is, Master. He is a pyromancer, first and foremost, but his abilities are barely tapped. He could be an exceptional sorcerer.” Her eyes shifted from Marcus to Talbot, her posture turning uncertain. “Marcus is right to doubt, though. You could torture the information from him or I could lure it past his lips. But if you think him useful to the cause as a soldier, I believe even I am skeptical.”

  “I forgive your doubt, but not his.” A paternal grin spread across his lips. “Continue to secure your future, child. I, on the other hand, will mind our interests. The only mistake I have ever made with regard to his bloodline is to grant his father a choice. I won’t make that error a second time.”

  “You will force him across the veil?” Jane asked, arching a brow at Talbot.

  “I will keep him alive until he tells us where he’s hidden that accursed scroll,” he replied. “After that, though?” His grin turned cunning. “I will convince him of our ways. I think our dear Christian fancies himself a stronger man than he truly is. Everybody has a weak point.”

  “And you intend to find his?”

  “I intend to press a finger on it until he cries out for mercy.”

  The images faded, swept aside like smoke. I watched as they dissipated, startled when the candles blew out and the night stilled around me. Blinking several times, I tried to focus on the dark of the courtyard again and heard my heart thundering in my head, felt my stomach twist into knots. My mind spun dizzy with a thousand thoughts, each colliding with the other to gain a place of primacy.

  I fell back onto the cobblestones, my limbs protesting how long I had remained in the same posture. Each breath I took stung, my chest turning tight while I struggled with my next course of action. “Clean this up,” I whispered to myself. “Get back inside before anyone realizes what you’ve done.” A nod preceded me lifting up again, reaching to gather my materials and toss them back into the linen bag. Retreating to the far side of the courtyard, I slung the bag over my shoulder and studied the estate’s exterior.

  The seams in a few of the bricks granted me just enough leverage to scale the wall to the window sill and pull myself back inside. It took a matter of moments for me to have everything put away and even less time for me to slip back into the confines of my room. After shutting the door, I collapsed on the bed, the composure I had kept tightly wound slipping, my hands beginning to shake and chest filling with air in lusty gulps.

  Every impulse told me to run. Gather my things and ride hard and fast for home. “They’ll be after me the moment I depart,” I said just as soon as the notion crossed my mind. This left the chance I could reach Paolo, perhaps even set us on our way to London and the hell out of England, but a pang of guilt rippled through me as I considered the one thing it would not permit me to do. “Jeffrey,” I said. Our parents’ killers were after the scroll and now that they knew about me, my brother would become an unwitting accomplice. “What have I done?”

  His words of warning made my stomach turn. Every harsh word spoken about Richard Hardi came to mind almost at once just as the recollection of Talbot’s words echoed in my head. He had once worn a red cloak. Had put us all at risk and now, I doubted everything I had once held as gospel. Rolling to my side, I drew my knees up to my chest and clutched onto them, wishing I could apologize for every conviction I had harbored in blind faith. I had walked into the lion’s den on my father’s behest. And as the name Henri joined the list of revelations, I realized I had never truly known the man at all.

  I shut my eyes only to silence the world around. The cacophony failed to still, but fatigue made its presence known regardless of how little I wanted to rest. I was trapped in a quandary and my state of mind made reasoning a way out virtually impossible. Slowly, I began to relent. I saw Paolo within my thoughts. I envisioned Jeffrey, and Anne, and the girls, and felt the weight of each precious life settle on my shoulders. Succumbing to sleep, I did something I had not done the entirety of my adult life.

  I prayed that whatever gods existed would help me find a solution.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I bore no doubt that Jane knew something was awry with me the next day. I couldn’t look her in the eyes without seeing her deceit and wondering how many times she had regaled my enemies with tales of her conquests. Pursing the notion any further threatened to ruin my appetite. As such, we ate in tense quiet for the better part of the meal.

  It took until she had finished eating for her to break the silence, clearing her throat as she polished off the last of her drink. Setting down the cup, she folded her hands atop the table and leaned forward. I stole a quick glance upward in time to watch her arch a brow at me. “Is something the matter, my rogue?” she asked. “You look troubled.”

  For the lack of a better place to look, I stared at the piece of bread I held in my hands, tearing at a piece and continuing my slow pursuit of consuming it. “Simply lost in thought,” I murmured between bites. “Apologies, milady.”

  “And what has you lost in thought? Did you have another one of your night terrors?”

  “Not another one, no.” It took a considerable amount of effort to force a smile on my face. I met her gaze more fully, certain the attempt at reassurance had been anything but. “Though, I did have some trouble settling in to sleep.”

  Jane nodded. “A shame, truly.” Her lips curled, the first time in days I had seen her cryptic smile. “Will you be attending to your lessons today, or do I need to distract you?”

  “I’m not much of a mind for either, milady. I think you have me worn out.”

  “We have such precious little time left. You shouldn’t be squandering it.” I felt her eyes take on more of an air of scrutiny. Suddenly, I became aware of the fact that we were in the midst of a contest. She rested an elbow on the table and cradled her chin in her hand. “If I give you the chance to rest today, we will have to spend the better part of tomorrow immersed in study. You do understand this, yes?”

  I nodded. “I understand and I accept it. Heavens, is the fortnight almost finished?”

  “Just a few days left. Unless, of course, you decide to stay.”

  I almost asked if I would be allowed t
o leave. Tension settled between us, even as my smile broadened. “Then I will make certain I’m ready for our lessons tomorrow.” Finishing off the remainder of my bread, I stood and bowed before her. “Might I take a walk around the grounds? I think being outside would help my disposition.”

  “By all means,” Jane said, though I caught the slightest amount of tension in her posture. Her lips failed to say it – attempt to run and I will find you – but a flicker in her gaze communicated the threat well enough. She tilted her head and I straightened my stance, uncertain if a chill had settled in the air or if my imagination had fashioned it. “Be in your room tonight,” she added. “We’ll take supper there.”

  “As you wish,” I responded, turning before my grin could falter altogether. I passed two of the servants on my way out the front door, feeling the weight of each questioning gaze feed my paranoia. The grounds opened up before me, the sun shining almost in mockery of my mood, though nothing could taunt me more than the sight of the wall surrounding the manor. My skin crawled, feet itching to run as fast as my legs could carry me. It took only moments for the debate of the prior evening to smother the temptation and extinguish it wholly.

  The grounds themselves were bereft of people, save but for a host of men assigned the task of minding the wall. They paid me idle notice, not pursuing me when I wandered around the other side of the large house and toward the stables. The stable boys glanced in my direction before returning to work. My shoulders slumped as I caught sight of Tempest in one of the stalls and even as I approached the far end of the property, I found myself musing on the riddle while coming no closer to its solution. A faint wind rustled the few leaves remaining in the trees and distantly, I heard the waves of the shore while realizing my world had become a prison.

  A hissing noise chose that particular moment to knock me from my thoughts. I blinked and scanned around the immediate area, attempting to discern its source as my brow furrowed. When it sounded again, I peered up toward the branches of the nearest tree and walked closer to it. A figure hid within the remaining foliage, only visible as I closed in on it and squinted past the sun. “Who goes…?” I began, until I adjusted my position enough to enter the shade. Once I did, there was no mistaking the identity of the person perched above me.