by M. J. Putney
But this was her own time that was being threatened. “We’ll need to make a few preparations, but I agree that we must go as quickly as possible. Tonight.”
Mrs. Rainford shuddered and closed her eyes. “It’s so dangerous! By the grace of God, you’ve all survived two hazardous missions, but luck and talent won’t last forever.”
“We can’t play coward this time, Mum,” Jack said. “It was bad enough that Britain is being attacked in the future, but this is here and now. I’m not going to stand by and let an invasion happen when I might be able to make a difference.”
“I’ll go, too.” Allarde looked thoughtful. “When I was at Eton, I knew a pair of brothers, Blakesley Major and Blakesley Minor. They’re from a military family and they lived near Carmarthen. I have a feeling that working with them could make a real difference in stopping the French.”
“I’ll go,” Tory said. “I’m best at taking people through the mirror.”
“I’m coming, too,” Elspeth said. “Where there is fighting, healers are needed.”
Cynthia gave a smile that was all teeth. “I am remembering that I am descended from warriors. How dare the French invade my land!”
Mr. Stephens looked torn. “I should go, too.”
Miss Wheaton shook her head. “We’re needed here to maintain the coastal wards. One group of French mages have been burned out, but they have more. If the wards weaken, the French navy may be able to elude the blockade and attack this coast.”
“I wasn’t able to detect this lot!” he said bitterly.
“Brest is a long way off,” his wife pointed out. “Now that we know they’ve used mages with strong stealth magic to elude the British blockade outside Brest, we can see about sending a good stealth mage to the Channel Isles, which are much closer to Brest than we are. You’ve done an excellent job of detecting attempts to evade the blockade from the nearer ports.”
His mouth twisted. “I suppose. But it feels wrong to allow students to fight our battles!”
Understanding how he must feel, Tory said, “We’re all mages working for a common goal. You are more needed here in Lackland.”
“Besides the work we’ve been doing,” Miss Wheaton said, “we need to start enlisting other Irregulars to strengthen the wards. None are as powerful as you five are, but together, they can make a real difference.”
“I don’t have stealth magic, but I have a fair amount of power,” Mrs. Rainford said hesitantly. “Can I join the network of mages that maintain the wards?”
“Absolutely!” Mr. Stephens replied. “With the threat of invasion imminent, we’re recruiting as many trained mages as we can find to augment our magical defenses.”
“I can connect you with the strongest mages in the Lackland area.” Mrs. Rainford smiled wryly. “Traditionally mages are an independent lot, so we don’t usually work together. That must change.”
“Cynthia, I’m thinking that this is the sort of adventure where it will be useful for me to wear my boy’s trousers,” Tory said. “Can you alter my appearance enough so that I’ll seem to be wearing a dress, but I can be agile as a boy?”
Cynthia thought a moment. “After I set up the illusion spell, it can be powered mostly by your energy so it won’t use too much of my magic. I’ll wear trousers also, having learned to my cost that skirts and adventures don’t go together.”
“I’d like you to spell me the same way,” Elspeth said.
After Cynthia nodded, Tory said, “It’s time to close the circle.” She tightened her clasp on her neighbors’ hands. “Then we’ll prepare for a swift journey to Wales!”
* * *
After the circle closed and the magelings separated to prepare for the trip, Cynthia cornered Jack, latched on to his wrist, and hauled him into a private side passage. He grinned at her when they were alone. “Am I here for kissing or a lecture?”
She scowled at him. “Both, but the lecture first. Your power is still far below normal, Jack. Maybe you should stay here rather than go to Wales. If you’re in trouble and reach for your magic and it isn’t there…” She shook her head, not wanting to think of all the ways disaster might result.
His blond brows arched. “Do you really think I’ll stay here when the rest of you are headed off to battle?”
“No.” Her throat tightened. “But I had to ask. I came so close to losing you in France! I’ve been having nightmares ever since.”
He pulled her into a hug, his warm arms around her waist. “That was bad, but we all got out safely. We will again.”
She hid her face against his throat, feeling the warm beat of his blood. “You can’t know that. We’ve been lucky before, but luck can run out at any time.”
“Don’t forget that the Irregulars are talented and clever as well, but you’re right. We’ve been lucky so far, and we can’t count on that to always be the case.” His embrace tightened as he spoke without his usual lightness. “The stakes are too high to stand aside and let others take the risks, Cinders. If my luck had run out when we were in France, it would have been hard on my family and friends, but there wouldn’t have been serious consequences.”
“Breaking your mother’s heart isn’t a serious consequence?” she snapped as she blinked back tears. Her heart would be broken, too. No one had ever cared for her as much as Jack did, and she had the horrible feeling no one else ever would.
“Of course I don’t want that to happen. I enjoy life and want a lot more years of enjoying it. But this mission is different. There are French troops on British soil, damn it! We all die eventually. If I fall while defending my homeland … well, there are worse ways to go.” He stroked his hand down her spine, sending shivers through her. “Don’t pretend that you don’t feel exactly the same way, my warrior princess.”
“I do feel the same way,” she whispered. “But if something happened to me, I wouldn’t be missed much.”
“You are so wrong, Cynthia!” He lifted her chin and kissed her hard, his blue eyes intense. “You’re brave and beautiful and delightfully prickly, and there is no one else like you. So don’t you dare get yourself killed in Wales!”
She gave him a crooked smile. “Then I guess we’d better survive or go down together so one of us isn’t left alone.”
“We’ll survive together,” Jack said firmly. “And now that the lecture is over, it’s time for the kissing!”
CHAPTER 8
Lackland, 1940
After her shocking interaction with Sylvia Crandall, Rebecca managed to pull herself together enough to talk with Dr. Gordon about her past studies. He was pleased with her desire to be a doctor, and after asking her a variety of questions, he declared that her education so far had laid an excellent foundation for future studies.
She thanked him for his offer to help if she needed it and made her escape. The school was almost empty since the students had left for the day. Because Mrs. Rainford needed to stay late for a meeting, Rebecca would walk home alone.
She was surprised and pleased to find Nick waiting on the steps outside. Closing his book, he got to his feet and reached for her book bag. “How did your first day go?”
Rebecca was tired enough to hand over the heavy book bag gratefully. “Reasonably well, but one thing was … upsetting.” She looked around, but the street was empty. Nonetheless, she dropped her voice to a whisper. “I … I entered someone’s mind and changed her.”
Nick stopped short and stared, his blue eyes searching. “With your mind magic? What exactly happened?”
Rebecca described the flashes of hostility she’d experienced. When she mentioned Sylvia Crandall, Nick made a face. “She’s clever, but the meanest girl in the school. Polly always avoids her. I’m not surprised to hear Sylvia was thinking evil thoughts in your direction.”
“Prejudice against my people is not uncommon. The real shock was the way her feelings and experience blazed through me like a bonfire when we touched.” Rebecca shuddered at the memory and started walking again. “Her parents
are dreadful, and she burned with anger and resentment toward the world.”
“Being swamped with Sylvia’s nastiness must have been grim,” he said sympathetically.
“It was, but I also felt so sorry for her. She has known little kindness and has no friends. All she has is her intelligence and her sharp tongue.” Rebecca swallowed hard. “I don’t really understand what happened, but it seemed as if the magic poured from me and into her and changed her!”
“She needed changing,” Nick said, startled. “But this is beyond any magic I’ve ever heard of. Did she behave differently afterward?”
“She was civil, and it felt as if most of her bitterness was gone.” Rebecca frowned. “Her essence didn’t change, but she seemed like a better version of herself. She said she was pleased to meet me and we decided to be laboratory partners in biology. Not only was she civil, but she smiled, though she wasn’t very good at it.”
“That’s miraculous!” Nick exclaimed.
Rebecca shook her head vehemently as she recognized the full horror of what she’d done. “I committed a crime, Nick! I assaulted Sylvia’s spirit and changed her without her knowledge or consent! My parents would be so ashamed of me.” She felt ready to weep. “It is more evil to steal a soul than to kill a body.”
“Whoa, Rebecca!” Nick shifted both book bags to his left shoulder and rested his right arm over her shoulders. To an onlooker, it would have looked casual, but his warmth and strength and steadiness flowed into her.
Nick continued, “If you feel that you did that, of course you’re upset. But did you steal her soul and her free will? Or did you remove some of her pain?”
Grateful for his calm, Rebecca tried to think clearly about that swift, improbable interchange. “I removed her pain, at least for now. I don’t know if the change is permanent, but there’s a good chance that in the future she’ll be able to shrug off her family’s flaws rather than allow them to poison her.”
“So you didn’t steal her soul, you did a healing,” Nick said thoughtfully. “Not of the body, as Elspeth does, but of the mind. Like a psychiatrist removes pain, but you did it much more quickly and efficiently. Is that such a terrible thing?”
She gave him a sharp look. Though he knew she wanted to be a doctor, she’d never mentioned psychiatry. She hadn’t recognized that herself until she was talking with Andy. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” she agreed. “But it was done without Sylvia’s consent, and without control on my part. It left me exhausted, too!”
“Major magic is vastly tiring. I’ll need to feed you up when we get home,” he said. “I agree that you shouldn’t make a habit of rearranging people’s minds without their consent, and as with any kind of magic, you must learn discipline and control. But this is a wonderful gift you have, Rebecca! Several of our friends from the past have some ability to soothe a person’s pain, but not the ability to go inside a tormented mind to remove deeply rooted damage.”
“It feels like more power than anyone should have,” she said fiercely. “I am not fit to take such responsibility!”
“Then learn how to be fit,” Nick said flatly. “You have a conscience, so you’re already well on your way.”
“I hope you’re right,” she said with a sigh. “It’s frightening to have done something so profound without even intending it.”
He smiled teasingly. “Maybe the effects of your treatment will pass and she’ll be her mean old self tomorrow.”
Rebecca shook her head. “I hope not. Not when she’s my new lab partner!”
Their walking had taken them out of the village. They were climbing the hill when Nick said soberly, “We need to send a message about this to our friends in the past. Your talents could be useful.”
“You think I should go back and forcibly change minds?” she asked, aghast.
“You can do things no one else can. That could make you very useful in their struggle to block a French invasion.” He glanced down at her, his blue eyes serious. “You promised to help in any way you could.”
She swallowed. “I did, and I meant it. But I don’t know what I can do. It’s all too new. I had to be touching Sylvia to affect her, and I don’t think that’s very practical when dealing with an invading army.”
They reached the top of the road and turned onto the footpath that ran along the cliffs toward the Rainford house. “If you join an energy circle with the others, you might be able to magnify your power enough to affect someone over a distance,” Nick said. “I’m only guessing. I do know that our friends need to hear of this ability since it’s different from anything they have. Think about what happened, talk it over with my mother, then write it up and we’ll send a message stone through. You might want to wait a day or two to see if anything similar happens.”
“I’ll do that.” Nick’s arm was still around her shoulders, so she moved away.
He caught her wrist. “Rebecca,” he said, his blue eyes blazing with intensity. “Since you can read people through touch, you must know how I feel about you.”
His emotions flooded through her. Liking. Respect. Desire. And something deeper that was too powerful and frightening to name.
She blushed violently. Though she’d sensed attraction from him, she hadn’t fully believed that a boy as handsome and talented and generally marvelous as Nick really cared for her. Now it was blindingly clear that her imagination hadn’t misled her.
Heart hammering with delight and despair, she yanked her wrist away. “I thought you might be interested in me, but I’ve been doing my best to pretend that wasn’t so.”
Pain showed in his eyes. “I haven’t wanted to rush you, not after all you’ve gone through, and you living under my parents’ roof. But from the moment we met, I’ve felt that … we belong together. It’s not just that you’re really pretty, but that you have intelligence, warmth, and honor. Though I don’t have your ability for reading people, I’ve sensed that you care about me, too.”
She drew a shaky breath, knowing she owed him an explanation. “I do care, Nick. Your courage saved my whole family from the Nazis, and you’re also the most attractive boy I’ve ever met. But we can’t be together. Trying would be too painful.”
He frowned. “Why? I haven’t been able to figure out why you’ve kept your distance from the start. Is it something I’ve done? I can change if you tell me what’s wrong, but I have to know!”
Throat tight, she gazed out to the gray waves of the sea below. “How can you not know when it’s so simple? I’m Jewish. You’re Christian. It’s a huge gulf. Impassable, at least for me.”
“It’s hardly unknown for people from different religions to marry,” he retorted. “My friend Bobby’s father is Catholic, his mother Church of England. Bobby says they had some difficulties in earlier years, but they’ve worked it out. The children go to both churches and his parents dote on each other.”
“They were both Christian. To me, Catholics and Anglicans are hardly different at all. Judaism is different.” Seeing that he still didn’t understand, she said with exasperation, “Nick, when Jewish children marry goyim, Christians, sometimes their parents declare them dead! They are no longer part of the family. Can you imagine how dreadful that would be?”
Shocked, he said, “How can they? My parents would never do that!”
“Probably your parents wouldn’t,” she admitted. “But parents have cut off their children for lesser reasons. We Jews—there are not so many of us. When we marry outside our faith, we make Judaism weaker. I will not turn away from my people.”
“Would your parents declare you dead?”
She thought of her kind, tolerant mother and father. Both were scientists and broad-minded, but they were also proud of their Jewish history and identity. “They wouldn’t declare me dead, but they would be deeply grieved.”
“Of course you don’t want that. Neither do I,” he said quietly. “But we are Nicholas Rainford and Rebecca Weiss. We are individuals, not defined only by the religions we were raised i
n. Can’t we at least try to build a bridge across that gulf?”
She wanted to believe that would be possible, but maybe she was deluding herself because she was so attracted to him. “I don’t know, Nick. The gulf is wide.”
“Since you were raised in a mostly Christian nation, you probably know quite a bit about Christianity,” he said. “I’m not sure there’s a Jewish family in the whole of Kent, so I’m far too ignorant about your faith. What could I do to convince you that I’m trying to understand better?”
“You could start by reading about Judaism. Our history, our traditions, our festivals.” She offered a fleeting smile. “Our food. You may have noticed that I don’t eat pork or shellfish because they aren’t kosher. Not permitted.”
He began walking along the cliff path again, and she fell into step beside him. “I looked up kosher food in an encyclopedia, and it’s much more complicated than avoiding pork and shellfish. Special dishes are used, no mixing of meat and dairy,” he said. “All kinds of complicated rules. You don’t seem to follow most of them.”
She felt absurdly touched that he’d already made some effort to understand what it meant to be Jewish. “In my family, when we’re out in the gentile world we compromise by avoiding what we can and accepting the rest. I couldn’t live with your family if I insisted on a kosher kitchen, but I need to be here to learn more about my magic.” She waved a hand. “So no bacon or clams or mussels.”
He smiled mischievously. “Compromise. I like that word. If we both try, maybe we can build that bridge. I’ll see what books the library has on Judaism.”
She thought of the tiny Lackland public library. “Probably not much. The bookstores in Oxford will be much better. I’ll ask my mother to send some books.”
“Will she suspect there is a reason why I want to study Judaism?”
“Perhaps,” Rebecca said noncommittally, thinking such a suspicion might prepare her parents for a possible future with a goy in the family.
His chuckle told her that he understood what she hadn’t said. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, admiring his strong profile. She’d love to run her fingers through his blond hair, which was in need of a cut. She forced herself to look away and concentrate on her footing along the path.
