Bridging the Storm

by Meredith Bond

  “Indeed. I have been around the world and met fascinating people every place I’ve gone. Seen things you could not possibly imagine,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Magic? Have you seen magic other than what we have here?”

  “Oh, yes! All sorts.” But nothing that had helped him or would help her cure her children. He couldn’t tell her this, though, and be the bearer of such news.

  “Teach me.” She spoke the plea in a whisper of desperation.

  “Let me tell you of the incredible things I’ve seen our very own Bridget do,” he said, indicating that she settle herself in a chair by the fireplace while he took the opposite chair. He didn’t quite know how to teach this powerful woman the magic he’d seen. Perhaps by explaining it to her, she’d get an idea of what was possible and figure things out on her own.

  TATIANA THOUGHT SIR ARTHUR incredibly kind and gentle as he spoke to her in the library. He was also extremely observant with an excellent memory, thank goodness. Understanding and replicating the magic he explained to her was another thing entirely, however.

  Naturally, he couldn’t explain how people performed the magic he’d seen—how could anyone explain even the conjurings they did themselves. One simply concentrated and willed it to happen—control of energy mixed with a touch of finesse. Not something you could teach someone to do, but rather guide someone in how they did it.

  “Tell me what Bridget could heal with her magic, first of all,” Tatiana suggested as Dagonet struggled to recall her great ancestor.

  Chapter Nine

  THE YOUNG MAN before her nodded, knitting his slender, pale eyebrows together as he thought back. “She could heal, naturally. Whenever anyone got cut, she would place her hand over the wound and apply her fire. The cut would heal, although the skin turned red with the heat.”

  Tatiana nodded encouragingly. She could do the same thing herself. It took a bit of magic, but it was something most Vallen associated with Fire could do. Clearly, Bridget was incredibly strong and could do the magic easily.

  “Merlin taught her the special power to heal bones, meld them together, as I mentioned to you yesterday, ” Sir Arthur went on.

  “That is wonderful! That must have taken a great deal of magic!” Tatiana exclaimed. She’d never tried to do anything so complicated as that before.

  “Oh, yes. It took quite a bit out of her at first. I believe she mentioned to me once, as she healed a broken leg of mine, that she imagined the bones sort of melting together, blending and becoming whole again. To her imaginings, she added fire. Blending, melding fire.”

  Tatiana nodded. She would have to try this. There had to be some metal somewhere she could manipulate and practice on. But her children didn’t have broken bones. They were coughing up blood. Drowning in it within their little bodies. Melding wouldn’t help them. “Did she do anything to help someone who was sick?”

  Sir Arthur sat back and thought for a moment. “Well, she gave me a shot of strength, just the slightest touch of fire to help me get over influenza once. I had a fever for a number of days with a terribly congestion—Dylan’s non–stop rain as we traveled from Wales to Gloucester.”

  Tatiana tried to sit forward, but her large belly prevented her from moving the way she wanted. She soothed a hand down over the roundness and tried to get comfortable. “Yes. I’ve cured someone of a fever before as well. I tried the same thing on my boys, but it didn’t work. Perhaps I need to try again?”

  “Perhaps. I don’t know that it’s the same thing, consumption and influenza. I’m afraid medicine is not something I understand very well.” He was so apologetic, Tatiana almost felt bad asking him to think this through with her. Of course he wouldn’t know.

  “What else could Bridget do beside heal?” Tatiana asked. Maybe there was something else.

  Sir Arthur looked up again as he thought. “She could heal. She could heat metal. She could meld. And she had a temper and a tongue, that girl.” He laughed, just thinking about her fiery temper. “The fights she and Dylan would get into!”

  Unfortunately, a fiery temper, something Tatiana had been accused of having as well, didn’t help cure people’s illnesses. “Was there anything the other Children could do that might help in any way?”

  “Scai could control the wind and clouds, run with the wind and turn into a bird,” he said. “Dylan, tied to Water, always felt the emotions of others and could calm a person or pull away an emotional hurt—very handy that. You might not think so, but it helped a great deal on a couple of occasions.”

  Tatiana would have loved to ask about those occasions, but her children were sick not sad. “You mentioned yesterday the power Merlin conferred on him. What was it, again?”

  “Ah, he could make people feel strong emotions. With a word, you would suddenly relive your worst nightmare or cry with deepest sadness. Nimuë did the same thing to me once. Quite unmans one, don’t you know?”

  Tatiana could only shake her head in wonder. But the mention of Nimuë made her think. “Did you say that she could change people into animals?”

  Sir Arthur’s gaze shifted to hers. “Yes. She could.”

  “How did she do that?” she asked, trying to sit forward again.

  “Wouldn’t know. I wasn’t there when she did so. I’m not even sure how often she did it; couldn’t always tell.”

  Tatiana sat back and thought about this. “I wonder…” The oddest thought began to form in her mind.

  “Not sure how that would help you,” Sir Arthur said, cocking his head.

  She shook her head. No, it was ridiculous. But on the other hand, if it worked… “Perhaps, if I changed the children into something else—another animal—when I changed them back they would be well again,” she said, voicing her crazy idea. Would it work? Could it? Anything was worth a try!

  “I wouldn’t know. Wouldn’t they just be the same in any form?”

  “I’d like to try. It couldn’t hurt, could it?” she said, mentally going through who she could change to try out this new magic. She couldn’t risk one of her children to begin with. She needed to test it out first by trying to change someone who was healthy into an animal, and then someone who was sick to see what happened. If that worked, she could try it on one of her children—Jamie, she supposed, as the eldest. Although at six he was still very much a baby.

  Her baby.

  Tears pricked her eyes. No! She would not lose her babies! She could not. She would do everything, anything to save them.

  She struggled to rise. Sir Arthur jumped up and grabbed on to her elbow and helped her up.

  “No, I don’t think it could hurt as long as you were able to change them back,” he said.

  “Exactly. Thank you,” she said, once she was on her feet. “You’ve been extremely helpful. Would you care to watch as I attempt to change someone?” She smiled up at him. The burn of excitement began to glow within her.

  A frown flitted on and off his handsome face. “Are you certain that that's a good idea, my lady?”

  She frowned at him, not understanding.

  “To do such powerful magic in your condition, I mean.”

  “Oh!” A happy warmth flowed through her at the thought of her unborn child. “It will be perfectly safe, I assure you. My daughter is very strong.”

  “But still, it is untried…”

  “You just said that you’ve seen others do this,” she pointed out.

  “Well, not seen, per say, but know of.”

  “Close enough.” She waved his words and worries away with a hand. “Call for the footman, please.”

  “You aren’t…” he began. He was clearly worried about this, but she had perfect confidence in her ability to turn the footman into an animal. She cut off the knight’s words with a meaningful, commanding look.

  He got the message, gave a curt nod and strode to the door. Within a moment the footman from the hall stood before her.

  “Yes, my lady?”

  “Just stand there a moment,”
she directed him. He looked curiously at her but did as she asked.

  Sir Dagonet opened his mouth to say something, but she held her hand up to forestall him. She needed to concentrate.

  She focused inward, feeling the power that resided within her. She hadn’t done strong magic for some time, hadn’t tested herself in this way for too long. But she knew this would work when she felt her magic swirl and heat the fire within her.

  Pulling it forward, gathering it within her core, the child within Tatiana stirred. The Seventh could feel her magic, too. Tatiana felt her shift as the magic flowed through them both. Perhaps the infant added some of her own unknowingly? She had to be strong, but Tatiana didn’t want to use the baby’s magic or do anything that might harm her child in any way. So Tatiana envisioned a barrier, a magical barrier surrounding the baby, around which her own magic flowed not touching the child.

  Tatiana pulled all of her magic into her hands until it sparked between her fingers. She envisioned a chocolate brown Labrador like the ones that lived in the barn and tried to sneak into the house constantly. Then, in one blast, she aimed her magic and her vision at the footman willing him to become the dog.

  The rush of magic, energy and power had her legs buckling under her. Sir Arthur grabbed her and gently guided her back into the chair just behind her. Her breath came fast and hard. The baby within her kicked, reassuring her that she was untouched.

  Tatiana could barely move but managed to place a hand on her belly to soothe her child. A dog’s bark, however, startled her. Opening her eyes, a chocolate brown lab stood before her exactly as she’d envisioned it.

  She sat up, or tried to. “It worked!” She started to laugh and cry at the same time. “It worked!”

  “I DON’T SEE why we have to come out into the heat for our lesson today,” Mary said, complaining as always. “It’s much cooler inside.”

  “Much cooler,” her younger sister, Susan, said, copying Mary as she always did.

  “Because I want to see what you and your brother can do,” Kate explained for the third time. She would keep her patience with Mary and Susan. She repeated the refrain over and over again in her mind. She would keep her patience with Mary and Susan. If she told herself this enough, hopefully it would happen.

  “I think it’s lovely to get out of the house,” Jonathan said, bouncing ahead. At nearly eleven and home from school for the summer holidays, he was full of energy and good humor, despite being made to practice his magic. But maybe that was just him—a happy boy, despite having to deal with his sourpuss sister and her little copy all the time.

  Kate thought sadly of when she would lose her favorite cousin again when he went back to school. It was a shame there was no equivalent school for girls. She wouldn’t mind getting rid of Mary. Susan would be old enough to follow her in just two years.

  “Where are we going?” Mary whined, as the four of them wound their way through the garden.

  “To the rose garden,” Kate answered before Susan could ask the same question in exactly the same tone of voice.

  Lady Vallentyn liked to keep her garden as regimented as everything else. There were different areas for different types of flowers – one for the annuals that the gardeners put in every year; another for perennials, with the roses separated out into another area; and a third for the kitchen garden with its vegetables and spices.

  “I’m hot,” Mary complained.

  Susan wiped non–existent sweat from her brow in an exaggerated manner. For a moment, Kate had to bite her lip to keep herself from bursting out in laughter at the little girl’s antics.

  “Well, then, perhaps a little magic will cool you down,” Kate said, pausing by a tree.

  A recent storm had blown a number of little twigs down from the tree and the gardeners had yet to come through and clean them up. Kate pointed to the twigs. “Can you clean these up and put them into a pile?”

  Mary put her hands on her hips. “That’s not for me to do. That’s the servant’s job.”

  “Mary shouldn’t clean the garden!” Susan said, mimicking her sister’s stance.

  Kate tried not to scowl at the girls. Taking a deep breath she said, “No, I want Mary to use her magic to move the sticks. It’s good practice.”

  “Oh.” Mary relented. She pointed at one twig and directed it toward the base of the tree. It slowly slid over. She then pointed to another. It joined its brethren.

  When she pointed to a third, her brother huffed, “Oh, come now! We’re going to be here all day if you do it that way!”

  She turned toward him and took her angry stance again. “And how would you suggest I do this stupid exercise?”

  “Like this.” He turned his hand around in a circle and all of the sticks on the ground slipped into a neat pile at the base of the tree.

  “Show off!” Mary snapped.

  “Show off!” Susan said, nodding her agreement.

  “No, just the most efficient way to handle the task.” With that, he turned and continued on toward the rose garden.

  Mary and Susan followed after him, both of them scowling. Kate worked to keep the smile off her face as she followed the children.

  Jonathan paused next to the first rose bush of the garden and waited patiently for Kate, Mary and Susan to join him.

  “Now, as you see, this rose bush is covered in not only beautiful blooms but many buds as well…” Kate began.

  “I’m still hot, and you’re stating the obvious,” Mary interrupted her.

  “Mary…” Kate began, trying really hard to keep her temper.

  “We could do this in the conservatory,” Jonathan suggested.

  “No, for what I want you to do, we need these plants outside.” Kate turned to her cousin, “And besides, it’s just as hot in the conservatory as it is here.”

  “But at least we wouldn’t have this blazing hot sun pounding down on us. Mother always says that a lady should stay out of the sun so that her complexion doesn’t darken,” Mary said.

  “What’s wrong with having a dark complexion?” Jonathan asked. Clearly, he thought nothing of it; he was brown as a berry from spending a good part of his holidays outside riding and touring his father’s fields.

  Mary crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her brother. “Gentlemen don’t like young ladies with dark complexions or freckles.” She turned to Kate. “Even though you are never going to marry; that doesn’t mean that I should ruin my beauty.”

  Chapter Ten

  KATE’S ANGER AT the little brat spiked, but she held her temper—with great difficulty. “And what makes you think I will never marry?” She regretted the words the minute they were out of her mouth. She should not engage with a spiteful child and well she knew it.

  “Because you are merely a poor relation. My mother will never spend the time or money to bring you out. It’s not worth it to her,” Susan said, clearly repeating back something she had heard.

  Kate wondered who had said this behind her back. She was certain it couldn’t have been Aunt Vallentyn; she would never say such things in front of her daughters—would she?

  Kate hated the fact that the second part of what the child had said was the truth. She would, however, never admit to either one. “I am not a poor relation, Susan,” she said, with as much calm as she could muster. “My father is just as well off as yours. I chose not to live with him and his wife, and you should not repeat things you’ve heard other people say.”

  The little girl opened her mouth to refute Kate’s words, but Jonathan gave her such a glare she shut it again.

  “Now, pay attention to the rose plant and my lesson, Mary, or I will clear the sky of any lingering clouds. Whereas, if you are good, I will bring more cloud cover to shield your delicate skin from the sun. How’s that?”

  Mary pursed her lips together but said nothing. After a brief glance up to the few wispy clouds that floated overhead, she turned and looked pointedly at the rose bush.

  “Now, while this plant has man
y beautiful blooms on it,” Kate began again, “it also has a number of buds. I’d like you to make one of the buds bloom.”

  Jonathan nodded and then crouched down in front of the plant. He concentrated for a minute and when nothing happened, Kate gently suggested that he try touching the plant.

  “And you can try on that one,” she said to Mary, pointing at the next plant over.

  Mary’s expression was not pretty, but she did as she was told. Her younger sister joined her, but didn’t even attempt any magic. They all knew she had none.

  As soon as Jonathan’s fingers touched the bud, its petals began to unfurl. “Look! Look! I’m doing it!”

  “Very good!” Kate beamed at him. He had a wonderful propensity with nature. There was no question he was associated with Earth. “How are you doing, Mary?”

  “Nothing,” the girl mumbled.

  “Keep trying,” Kate encouraged her.

  She stood for another few minutes while Jonathan continued to touch buds on the plant making them bloom into flowers. Mary just squatted with her fingers gently resting on one bud, concentrating fiercely.

  Finally, the girl stood up. “I’m hot and this isn’t working. I don’t think I’m associated with Earth.”

  “That’s all right. Let's try to find something else that might be easier for you,” Kate said. “What about those clouds,” she said, pointing up into the sky. “Can you move one?”

  Mary frowned while looking up, Kate hoped, in concentration.

  The clouds continued to drift slowly as they had been.

  Even after so many years, they still had no idea which element Mary was associated with. They tried so many different things again and again, but her magic just seemed too weak. She’d been able to move inanimate objects but even that was painstakingly slow.

  Jonathan finished with all the buds on one rose plant bloom and moved on to the next.

  “You don’t want to make all the buds bloom, Jonathan. It might harm the plant to force it when it’s not really ready,” Kate told him.