Dark Destiny

by M. J. Putney

  Though she was tired, she couldn’t sleep. Allarde was right: Trouble was coming, and it would almost certainly come from Colonel Levaux’s war mages. They’d been concentrating on breaking the British wards to clear the way for invasion.

  Now, like a hungry cobra deprived of its prey, the mage corps sought a new target. Tory sensed the mages’ restless, confused, seeking energy. She wouldn’t feel safe until they were through the mirror and back at Lackland.

  Finally the carriage rocked to a halt and Allarde opened the door. “Jack has driven as far as the carriage can take us. Time to start hiking.” He offered a reassuring smile. “Soon we’ll be home.”

  Tory wondered if he believed that—there was a tense note in his voice. She took his hand and climbed down from the coach. Jack had driven off the road into the shadow of a steep hill where they wouldn’t be seen by passing traffic. The path to the cave ran through the dark forest ahead.

  Elspeth and Cynthia climbed out after her, then Nick. “Rebecca is changing to her trousers,” he explained. “She didn’t want to ruin Cynthia’s gown crawling on her hands and knees through the narrow bits of the cave.”

  “For which I thank her,” Cynthia said. “Not to mention that crawling would be beastly uncomfortable in a skirt.”

  Jack and Allarde started to unharness the tired horses. “You’re going to turn the horses loose?” Tory asked.

  “It’s a good team.” Jack stroked the sweaty neck of the rear wheeler. “I could use them at home, but I thought you’d object to taking them back through the mirror.”

  She laughed. “Not to mention the fact that they wouldn’t fit through the cave. Someone will find and use them and the coach.”

  Cynthia had dropped the illusion of an expensive carriage as soon as they were out of sight of the camp. But the vehicle was still sound and someone would feel very lucky to find it. Tory hoped the horses ended up with poor farmers who needed them in the fields.

  Rebecca emerged from the carriage, jumping nimbly down in her trousers. She looked stronger for her time with Nick. “I am so glad that is over!”

  “You did splendidly, Rebecca,” Jack said. “Without you … well, I don’t want to think about what might have happened.”

  Tory slung her pack on her back. “Time to start moving. There are mages looking for us. I can feel them.”

  Elspeth grimaced. “I think I prefer the twentieth century. At least there, all we had to worry about was more dangerous weapons, not magic.”

  Tory had just started toward the woods when fierce, hostile magic exploded around her. The earth vibrated menacingly, and the steep hill to her right shattered. Massive boulders thundered down the slope and debris filled the air. The freed horses screamed and galloped away.

  “It’s Levaux!” Allarde shouted as he threw up a hand and grabbed at Tory’s power to augment his own. “Run!”

  The others bolted toward the forest while Allarde used his earth and lifting magics to shove the massive rock slide away from the Irregulars and toward the road. A boulder crushed the carriage like an eggshell.

  Before Tory could run a dozen strides, a vast mage light appeared over their heads, illuminating them all. Directly ahead a huge tree crashed down, narrowly missing Cynthia and Jack. Jack swore viciously as he pulled Cynthia away, turning so the lashing branches struck his back instead of her.

  An energy blow knocked Tory to her knees. Around her, she saw the same thing happening to her friends. She felt as if she were suffocating and realized that a magical suppression spell like the one at Lackland Abbey had been thrown over them. Only worse. Stronger. She felt as helpless as a kitten.

  As she fought for breath, a tall, gaunt figure in black strode from the darkness into the circle of light. The master war mage. Eight rifle-carrying men in blue military uniforms emerged from the darkness to encircle the Irregulars at the edge of the light. All were mages connected to Levaux by threads of silvery energy.

  Levaux’s gaze swept across the Irregulars as they struggled to their feet one by one, stunned by the suppression spell. He blazed with power, far more than he’d had in Wales.

  And not just his own power, Tory realized. Besides the magic he was drawing from the mages he’d brought with him, a multitude of other energy lines connected him to mages who weren’t here. Most of the lines ran from him toward the caves. Levaux was drawing on the talents of dozens of mages, wielding their combined power like a great spider in an evil web.

  Refusing to look away from his burning gaze, Tory said, “You weren’t as strong in Wales.”

  “I wanted to see how much power I had that far from my base,” he said. “Not enough, I found. I work better here.” He gave a smile that showed too many teeth. “You vile children have delivered yourselves right into my hands. You’ll add greatly to my power.”

  In a flash, Tory understood why the Irregulars had dreamed of slavery and hard labor when they spent the night in the painted cave. “You’ve enslaved your own people,” she said through stiff lips. “French mages. You feed off the power of your mage corps to make yourself the most powerful mage in France.”

  “The most powerful mage anywhere, I believe. I know of no others who control so many powerful mages, nor any who have turned their slaves into a massive weapon under one man’s control.” His eyes narrowed as he studied Tory. “You have the same power I do, but you’re too weak, too spineless, to use your magic to compel others.”

  Tory gasped with horror as his words resonated within her. She realized that if she wished, she could use her talents to blend and enhance the power of other mages as an instrument of enslavement. The thought sickened her.

  “It isn’t strength I lack, but wickedness,” she said icily. “A quality you have in abundance.”

  He laughed. “How very moralistic of you. Why do I need morals when I have power? I have created an unstoppable force which will help Bonaparte rule the world!”

  Jack made a sound of deep frustration. Levaux glanced at him. “You just tried to summon lightning to strike me dead, yes? A waste of time. The only magic that works within this circle of light is mine. But you’ll be useful when I rebuild my weather group. The lot of you burned my best weather mages and they’ve been slow to heal. I like the idea that you and your blond trollop will calm the Channel for the invasion.”

  Cynthia looked ready to spit fire and Jack’s expression was murderous, but before either of them could speak, Allarde snapped, “There will be no invasion, Levaux. Napoleon has changed his mind and is turning his attention elsewhere.”

  Face contorted, Levaux threw a bolt of furious energy that blasted Allarde to the ground, breathing but unconscious. When Tory instinctively moved toward him, the war mage barked, “Stop right there or I’ll lay you out beside him!”

  Though she yearned to defy him, Tory obeyed. They would need all their wits and strength if they were to have a chance of escaping this mad devil.

  As Levaux looked away, Tory saw Allarde’s eyes flicker. With the bond between them that was love, not magic, she realized that he was not as unconscious as the war mage thought. He was biding his time. Jack’s eyes narrowed as he recognized the same thing. The Irregulars would not surrender tamely to this monster.

  Levaux’s gaze swept over the girls. “Somehow you changed Bonaparte’s will. The rebound when you altered his mind disrupted my whole mage corps, and for that you will be punished.” His voice dropped to a blood-chilling whisper. “Which of you little witches is responsible?”

  After a frozen moment, Rebecca said shakily, “I am. Do with me as you will, but release my friends.”

  Wanting to weep at Rebecca’s courage, Tory stepped forward. “It wasn’t her, it was me. She’s too new and untrained to affect a man like Bonaparte.”

  “I was the one who brought down Napoleon,” Elspeth said, her light voice clear as she also stepped forward. “Not either of them.”

  “We all did it, Levaux!” Cynthia said contemptuously as she moved forward. “We ma
gelings burned out your weather circle, thwarted your invasion of Wales, and turned Bonaparte permanently away from Britain. We have defeated you!”

  “Only for the moment. Once you are enslaved, my power will be even greater. But I will sacrifice the mageling who entered Bonaparte’s mind. Perhaps her death will remove the spell she cast over him. If not, at least I’ll have the pleasure of seeing her dead.”

  His eyes narrowed as he studied the girls. Then he said triumphantly, “You!” He pointed at Rebecca. “You I will burn!”

  “That won’t change anything,” she said, her voice shaking but her head high. “I didn’t cast a spell. I entered his mind and irrevocably changed his thoughts and goals.”

  “Why should I believe a barely trained mageling? When you’re dead, I’ll learn who was right!” Levaux raised his hand and a ball of fire formed on his palm.

  As he hurled it at Rebecca, Allarde and Jack leaped simultaneously at the war mage while Nick tackled Rebecca. He threw her to the ground and covered her so that the fireball rolled over his back, setting his hair and clothing afire.

  As Nick cried out in agony, Allarde and Jack grabbed Levaux and wrestled him to the ground. Tory was farther away, but she sprinted toward them, giving thanks that while the war mage concentrated on his attackers, the flames burning Nick flickered out.

  Jack threw a furious fist at Levaux’s jaw, but the war mage managed to twist away from the full impact. Then he blasted both boys with a furious explosion of power that dropped them both in their tracks.

  Swearing French curses with filthy words that Tory didn’t recognize, Levaux scrambled to his feet. “I should have done this first!” he snarled as he threw a tangle field over both boys, Tory, Cynthia, and Elspeth. Because Tory was running, her momentum knocked her to the ground with bruising force when the tangle field hit.

  All she could do was watch helplessly while he stalked across the circle of light to where Nick’s blackened body still covered Rebecca. “If you’re not already dead, witch, you’ll wish you were!”

  He grabbed Nick’s limp body and yanked him away from Rebecca. And as he rolled over, Nick pulled a twentieth-century pistol from under his jacket and shot Levaux in the heart at point-blank range.

  CHAPTER 35

  The giant mage light vanished, blanketing the area with darkness. Rebecca screamed as Levaux’s blood sprayed over her. An instant later, howls sounded in her mind. She struggled to get up, but she was pinned by the bodies of both Nick and Levaux and could barely breathe.

  The war mage’s death had ended all his magic, she realized dizzily. His mage light and his suppression and tangle fields were gone. No wonder he thought that killing Rebecca might restore Napoleon’s desire to invade England. The anguished cries she heard in her mind were from the enslaved mages who had just been violently severed from their master.

  Half a dozen smaller mage lights appeared, illuminating the clearing again. The weight crushing Rebecca diminished and she guessed that Levaux’s body had been unceremoniously jerked away.

  A moment later, the rest of the weight vanished. As she gulped air into her lungs, she saw that Allarde and Jack had carefully lifted Nick away by his arms so they wouldn’t touch his burned back. When they had him upright, Allarde asked, “Nick, how badly are you hurt?”

  “Scorched but repairable,” he gasped as he sagged between Allarde and Jack. “I think. Rebecca, are you all right?”

  “Better off than you.” Suppressing the desire to scream hysterically, she rolled onto her knees, then managed to clamber to her feet.

  Half of Nick’s blond hair was burned away and the clothing on his back was charred, but he managed to give her a lopsided smile. “I am not going to miss that fellow at all.”

  “Since magic didn’t work here, a good thing you brought that Nazi pistol!” Allarde exclaimed, his face bruised but with no other apparent damage.

  “I had a feeling a gun might come in handy.” Nick swayed and sucked his breath in painfully when Jack shifted his grip on Nick’s arm.

  Rebecca caught Nick’s face between her hands since his cheeks and jaw were unburned. Voice shaking, she said, “That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Entering Napoleon’s mind was braver.” He tried to turn his head, then winced and stopped. “Besides, I was counting on Elspeth to fix me up. You can take care of a lightly grilled mage, can’t you, Elspeth?”

  “Yes,” her calm voice sounded behind him, where she was already using her healing magic on his back. “But you’ll be sleeping on your stomach for a few days.”

  Rebecca pressed her forehead to Nick’s cheek and uttered a silent prayer of thanks before she stepped away. “Does anyone else hear screaming in your mind?”

  “I do.” Tory gestured toward the edges of the lighted area. “It’s the enslaved mages who have been freed from their magical shackles.”

  Rebecca saw that the eight men were collapsed or folded in fetal positions. “Their minds have been burned as badly as Nick’s back.” She took a deep breath. “Perhaps … I can do something for them.”

  “I’ll help,” Tory said.

  “So will I.” Cynthia picked up the fallen pistol and examined it carefully. “I think I can handle this if anyone tries to hurt us.”

  Rebecca shivered. “It won’t come to that.”

  Steps uneven, she approached the nearest French mage, a boy not much older than her. His hands were pressed to his temples, and he made little mewling noises as he rocked back and forth on the ground.

  She knelt beside him and placed a hand on his forehead. “You’re free now,” she said gently as she touched his mind, finding the raw wound where Levaux’s energy line had been connected. She sent gentle healing to soothe the injury. As the white light spread through him, she felt her own energy augmented by Tory’s hand on her shoulder.

  The young man’s face smoothed out as the pain disappeared, and his dark, dazed eyes focused on Rebecca. “Merci, mon ange,” he whispered as he turned his head to kiss her hand. “I am Philippe. My friends … can you help them also?”

  “I’ll do what I can.” A little embarrassed, she rose and moved to the next mage, an older man with white hair and a lined face. He was curled into a whimpering ball. This time she knew exactly how to proceed, and it didn’t take long to heal his injured mind.

  The old man’s body relaxed and his eyes opened. “Bless you, child! I feel as if … a cloud has been lifted from my mind and a yoke from my back.”

  “I think that is exactly what has happened,” Tory said soberly.

  They moved on to the next anguished mage. Though the work was tiring, with Tory’s help Rebecca completed her healing round fairly quickly. As the three girls returned wearily to where Nick was now able to stand on his own, the freed French mages conferred together, faces haggard but relieved.

  Then the group approached the Irregulars. The white-haired man said, “I am Pierre Beauvallet, once Father Pierre and a priest before Levaux got his filthy claws into my mind. Who are you? How did you come to destroy that serpent?”

  Allarde said, “We’re English, and we came here to turn Napoleon’s thoughts from invading our country. Levaux attacked us before we could escape.”

  Philippe sucked in his breath. “So that’s what happened! The colonel had set every one of his enslaved mages to the task of bringing down the English wards. Day and night he worked us, like mules in harness. Then suddenly it ended in chaos. An hour later, he collected those of us you see here and brought us from the caves to attack you.”

  “Your headquarters are in the caves?” Jack asked, his brows arching.

  “The war mage corps is there because of the great power concentrated in the earth.” Pierre frowned as he looked inward. “We must return there quickly. Others of the corps are suffering as we did. Can you come with us, mademoiselle?”

  Rebecca hesitated. She desperately wanted to return to the safety of England, but she couldn’t leave people in mental agony if she coul
d help.

  A tall, thin French mage said, “I can do the healings. I have a talent something like yours, mademoiselle, and after experiencing what you did, I can do the same.”

  Relieved, she asked, “You are sure?”

  “I am sure,” he said gravely. “There is no need for you to stay.”

  She sighed. “I want so much to go home.”

  “Then go with our thanks and blessings,” Pierre said.

  Allarde caught the former priest’s gaze. “Will you use your magic to fight for France again?”

  Father Pierre glanced around at the other French mages. Reading their expressions, he said, “Never. I would defend my country from attack as you have done, but I will not use my God-granted powers to harm others. My friends are of the same mind.”

  There were nods and murmurs of agreement. Face set, Philippe ripped the rank insignia from his shoulder. “I believe that within a day, everyone will have left and the caves will be empty. I don’t think there is a single one of us who wanted to pervert his powers in the horrible ways we’ve been forced to do.”

  His opinion was supported by murmurs of agreement. “I’m glad to hear that,” Rebecca said. “Go in peace.”

  Philippe bowed to her, and then his fellows did, too. Rebecca blushed and was grateful when Nick took her hand reassuringly.

  The French mages filed away into the woods, moving in the direction of the caves. They made no attempt to take Levaux’s body with them.

  Staring at the limp corpse, Jack said, “Do you think we should bury him?”

  Cynthia said, “I have a better idea. Stand back, everyone.”

  They did as she directed. Controlled fury in her eyes, Cynthia raised blazing fire around the fallen mage. The crumpled body burned swiftly. “Rot in hell, war mage!”

  “Scourging out the evil,” Rebecca said softly. “Let’s go home now.”

  The others nodded. Jack said, “Nick, I have a spare shirt you can wear since your old shirt was half burned off.”