* * *
"Damn right it's too dangerous," Alarick said as he refolded the letter and tucked it into his breast pocket.
"What's too dangerous?" Elissa asked.
Alarick started. He'd almost forgotten where he was.
"Nothing," he said, returning to the sofa and sitting beside her.
"I heard Master Lucas say the letter was from Master Baines. Is he in trouble?" she asked.
"No. He's safe and thoroughly enjoying deviling the Ministry."
"You know, I'd forgotten, but he wanted to know if I ever recovered my abilities. He said he'd come visit again if I did. Now that I'm almost back to full strength, maybe we should let him know."
"No," Alarick said, louder than he intended. That was the last thing he needed. If Marius knew she was well, he'd hound Alarick until he delivered Elissa to Orange.
"Oh," Elissa said. "Did you two have a fight?"
"Something like that," Alarick muttered. "Do you mind if I take my leave of you for the afternoon? I want to get the shop started on your cane, and I need to see to some business in my office."
It was somewhat true, but more than that he needed to get away from her before she figured out what Marius wanted. Alarick knew Elissa would want to go, but having nearly lost her once, he had no intention of that happening again. He would not send a blind woman into danger, no matter how willing she might be to go.
"Are you okay here? Do you need me to take you to your room?" he asked.
"No, I'll stay here for a while, maybe do some drawing. Candace will come looking for me around dinnertime. She knows I'm either here or in my room. I'll be fine."
"All right," he said, fleeing the library before Elissa could pick up on any more cues that something was wrong.
Alarick returned to his office. He sat at his desk and took up his quill to write a reply to Marius.
Marius,
You are quite right that Miss Stone has not yet recovered her abilities. She is doing well, but not well enough that she could be helpful to you at this time. I am afraid her days as a Book Mesmer are finished, despite my best efforts to the contrary. While it would be nice to preserve those books for future generations, I'm afraid you'll have to find some other way.
Congratulations, though, on your coup and eliminating your share of the Ministry.
Alarick
* * *
He folded the letter and dropped it in the mailbox. Alarick didn't even feel guilty for lying. He wanted Elissa to be a Book Mesmer again, but there was a limit to his tolerance for danger and risk. Nothing about sending her to Orange was safe. He had no doubt she could do the work, but sending a blind woman into a war zone was asking to have her killed.
And he had no doubt that Orange would be a war zone. There was no way the Ministry would let such a trove of information go without a fight. Marius' crew might be able to hold them off for a while, particularly if the library was in a defensible position, but eventually the Ministry would overwhelm them. No, Elissa would stay in the Keep. With him. Safe.
True to his word, he did go to the shop and pester the craftsmen into creating a lightweight cane that Elissa could use to search out obstacles in her path. And he did attend to some work in his office.
He had to, to keep his mind off the intimacy of Elissa's touch. The feelings he had for her were rapidly crossing over from friendship to something more. And he didn't know how to handle more, or even define it. Love was not something he allowed himself to contemplate. Even less did he think about how to act on any thoughts he might have. His method of survival was to first avoid intimacy and if that wasn't possible run for safer ground as fast as possible. Strangely though, he didn't want to run anymore. Not from Elissa.
He knew he was a thirty-four-year-old man with no real experience of women. In many ways, he was a teenager fumbling his way through his first experience with love. The crush he'd had on Abigail was nothing compared to the feelings he was developing for Elissa. He supposed that was the difference between love as a boy and love as a man.
Alarick was a bit concerned when Elissa didn't show up for dinner that evening, but he figured she was tired and in her room. Candace didn't come to the meal, either, and Alarick decided they must have eaten together. Instead of bothering them, he opted to go to the library. They had nearly finished reading the book of legends and he wanted to choose another book that Elissa would love.
It was quiet in the library. He hadn't expected her to be there, but was still a bit disappointed she wasn't working in the scriptorium. Since she wasn't, he took the opportunity to look around the room at some of her drawings. She was still mastering her new techniques, so many of them were works in progress. It was a veritable zoo with paintings of dragons, gryphons, snakes, and even a simurgh.
He was shocked, however, to see his own face on her desk. She must have started it this afternoon after he left her. The paint was still damp when he brushed a finger over his hairline. She'd done him justice, he thought. He wasn't smiling in the picture. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't certain she'd have a clear memory of his smile. It wasn't as though he'd shown it to her often before she lost her sight.
Why would she want to draw him, though? It wasn't as though she could look at the picture and remember him. He supposed the act of drawing helped her imprint his features on her memory. He could think of no other reason for her to bother.
Alarick was about to turn for the library shelves to choose a new book when a piece of paper on the floor caught his eye. Thinking it was another illustration, he bent down to pick it up and return it to the desk.
It wasn't flat liker her drawings, however. Instead, it was creased like a letter. He picked it up and turned it over, shocked that it was indeed a letter addressed to Elissa. Who would be writing to Elissa? Her family was dead. Where had it come from? She didn't have her own mailbox, so who had brought it to her? Curious, he began to read.
Dear Miss Stone, it began. Alarick recognized Marius' handwriting immediately and felt a cold ball of fear settle in his gut.
I'm sending this directly to you via Master Lucas because I've contacted Alarick about this matter and received his response, but I suspect he's lying to me. (And I certainly hope he isn't the one reading this to you. If you are, Alarick, tell her the truth, please!) He tells me you have made no progress in your recovery and your days as a Book Mesmer are finished. If that's true, I'm sorry for it.
If Alarick is lying, I'm dead certain he has told you nothing about my situation because he wants to protect you. Well, his delicate sensibilities will have to wait because I desperately need your help if you are in any condition to render aid. I do not doubt your courage, Miss Stone, even if Master Brandon is afraid to turn you loose.
The situation is this: We raided a Ministry compound in what was the Université Magique Français here in Orange, France. In addition to the Ministry casualties, we've uncovered a library full of confiscated magical books and Ministry papers. The information is valuable, but we cannot transport it away from here unprotected. If it were to fall into Ministry hands again, which at least some of it surely would, they would have their precious books back.
I want to preserve as many of these as we can. Our goal is to get them to safety, perhaps to the library at the Keep. But as there are so many and transportation will be difficult, I want at the very least to prevent the Ministry from being able to use whatever they might steal back from us.
To do that, I need the skills of a Book Mesmer. I need you, in other words. I have no idea if you are fit enough to travel, or if you can still perform any of your magic. Alarick says not, but his response was so abrupt and swift that I suspect he's lying, at least to some degree. At the very least, I'm convinced he will not mention this matter to you.
If I am wrong and you are indisposed, I am truly sorry for badgering you. If, however, this letter finds you with even a shred of your previous ability, I beg you to come to Orange and help us. We cannot hold this library foreve
r. We have a couple of weeks, at most, before we will be forced to retreat, leaving these materials behind and unprotected.
Your Friend,
Master Marius Baines
* * *
"Son of a bitch!" Alarick roared into the empty room. Never would he have suspected his friend of such treachery.
He strode out of the library and went straight to Elissa's room. He pounded on the door until his fist hurt, but there was no answer. Finally, he opened the door. The room was empty.
Alarick went to find Candace. Someone had to read that letter to Elissa and he had a feeling he knew exactly who it was. Elissa would have asked Candace to read it to her when Candace showed up to take her to dinner. That neither of them had come to dinner now stirred an ominous feeling in the pit of Alarick's stomach.
Candace wasn't in her room, but he did find her in the dining hall with Margaret. They were pushing tables and benches to the sides of the room, setting it up for an evening of dancing. Musicians were tuning up in one corner and one of Margaret's friends used her wand to cast flowers and garland around the room. The prettiness of the decor was at odds with the tornado of rage tearing through Alarick's head.
"Where is Elissa?" he demanded from across the room. Everyone turned to look at him as he stalked toward the two women, wand drawn, cloak billowing behind him, fury on his face. Those with sense stepped well out of his way. A few left the room altogether.
Margaret turned to him and squared her shoulders. Then she said the word he dreaded most.
"Orange."
"And how did she get there?" he ground out, resisting the urge to strangle the old woman.
"I took her," Margaret said, no hint of apology or regret in her voice.
"We went to get her for dinner," Candace broke in. "While we were helping her dress, John brought up a letter addressed to her. She asked me to read it to her, so I did. She was furious when I finished. She couldn't believe you hadn't told her what Marius asked of her. Worse, she couldn't believe you'd outright lied to him about her recovery."
"I had my reasons," Alarick said. "Which I would have told her if she'd asked. But no. She ran off."
"Oh, I think she was well aware of your reasons," Margaret said. "And she didn't agree with them. She asked us how to get to Orange without your help. I told her I could take her, and we peregrinated there."
"How could you?" Alarick screamed. "How could you send a blind woman into such danger?"
Margaret made a noise between a laugh and a scoff. "I assure you she's just as safe there as she would be here."
"In a war zone? Where if the Ministry finds a female working with books the consequences will be deadly for all involved? Are you insane?" Alarick asked.
"You've never seen the crew your friend Marius runs with, have you?" Margaret asked. "Let me assure you that I've never seen a rougher bunch of men in my life. And with Elissa in their midst, they are singularly devoted to protecting her at all costs. On Marius' orders, by the way.
"You might want to think about that, Master Brandon. I suspect if you dawdle too much longer over disclosing your affection for Miss Stone, Master Baines will beat you there. This old woman's eyes have seen much, and I believe he has feelings for your Book Mesmer that go beyond professional interest," Margaret said.
Alarick clenched his fists by his side, the long dormant emotion of jealousy now warring with rage for dominance in his feelings.
Margaret laid a hand on his arm and it was with some effort that Alarick resisted slapping it away.
"You think she can't take care of herself. You think she's weak. I assure you neither is true. I wonder why you fought so hard to recover her abilities if you never intended for her to use them? Being a Book Mesmer is what she was born to do. You gave her back her birthright and now you must let her use it or she will resent you forever. You cannot protect her, or any of us, forever. At some point you must realize that we all have roles to play in life and while they may not always be safe and secure, they are necessary," Margaret said.
"But—" Alarick began, but Margaret cut him off.
"What she's doing is absolutely essential if there is any hope of magic enduring the Ministry's purge. She is our hope that our ways may one day find the light again. No regime, no matter how horrible, lasts forever. Someday the page of history will turn and magic may be welcome, even necessary, in the world again. But if there's nothing left to instruct and guide those who follow us, magic will be lost forever. I suggest you embrace her efforts and help her. Help us to endure," she said.
Candace was in tears after Margaret's speech, and Alarick simply stood there. He knew Margaret's words were true and yet… He couldn't reconcile himself to the idea of another woman dying because of his inability to keep her safe.
The two circumstances weren't the same, his brain screamed at him. Abigail made her choices out of anger and fear. Her death wasn't his fault; he couldn't have saved her. Couldn't he, though, he wondered, yet again? Had he gotten her note sooner? Had he not unleashed his jealousy on Andrew, would she not still be alive? Had he bided his time and waited for her relationship with Andrew to peter out of its own accord, might she have lived and been his? Of course, he had no answers. The only thing he knew for certain was that a choice made in a moment of jealousy and rage had cost him everything once.
And he could not, would not, lose everything again.
Elissa was something else entirely. The only way to keep her safe was to lock her away, as he'd locked himself away after the disaster with Abigail. But that would kill her, as surely as it had deadened his desire to engage with life over the years. Somewhere along the way he'd confused self-preservation with the abnegation of life. He didn't know when it had happened, exactly, but he knew he couldn't put Elissa on the same path.
Margaret was correct. Elissa's birthright was to do things that might put her in danger. He'd seen how miserable she was without her ability and he'd helped her regain it. But if he didn't let her use her magic to its fullest, then his was a job half done. His job was to give her back her ability and her freedom. He'd given her the first. Now he had to give her the second. Marius understood this and Alarick hated him for it.
He'd promised Elissa that they could save each other and then done the exact opposite of saving her. When the chance arose, what had he done? He'd tried to keep her locked away. She was right to be angry. Hell, she'd have every right to turn to Marius instead of him. Marius understood her far more than Alarick did.
Rage spent, helpless, he turned to Margaret.
"What do I do?" he asked.
"You go to the Université Magique Français," she said simply.
"Will you take me?"
"You don't need me. You've mastered peregrination if you will simply trust the ability instead of fearing it. Go."
Without answering her, Alarick strode out of the room and went outside, crossing the castle grounds in mere minutes, despite the darkness that blanketed the compound on this moonless night.
When he got to the shop, he shoved the door open and demanded, "Is the cane for Miss Stone ready?"
"Yes, sir," said one of the craftsmen. "We made it out of the lightest wood we could find, but we strengthened it with a wire core to give it some flexibility. We were also able to hinge it, so it can be folded. It's crude, but we can refine the design."
"No time. Give it to me," Alarick said.
The young man handed it over and Alarick tucked it into his coat pocket next to his wand. The only other thing to do was gather some of Elissa's art supplies.
He went back to the library, cast a light orb, and noticed what he hadn't before. Some of her supplies were already missing. She'd taken the wire grids, the vial of her hair (but not his, he noted), ink, quills, and some of the paints and brushes. He gathered up the remaining supplies and stuffed everything into a canvas sack.
For good measure, he grabbed a copy of One Thousand and One Nights, kindly translated by one of Master Hale's Islamic wizard friends
. He didn't know if Elissa would ever allow him to read to her again, but in case she did he wanted to be prepared.
Packed, he left the library and went down to the entrance hall and Master Lucas' office.
John was seated at his desk. Alarick motioned him to stay seated when he began to rise at Alarick's appearance in his doorway.
"I'm going away again," Alarick said without preamble. "Elissa's gone to Orange, France, with Master Baines. I’ll let Margaret tell you how she goaded me into joining them. I don't know when I'll return. The Keep is well protected, and Margaret can keep it so. I'm leaving things in your care until I return."
"Understood," John said. That was one of the things Alarick appreciated most about John Lucas. He didn't ask questions about why Alarick was leaving in the night, he merely did what was asked of him.
Alarick shook John's hand and returned to the entrance hall. John followed him and leaned on the doorframe, watching.
Alarick looked around the hall once more, met John's eyes and then flicked his wand at his feet as he thought of Orange, the Université Magique Français, and his desperate need to get to Elissa. He disappeared, leaving John standing in an empty hall.
12
It worked. Alarick found himself in the central quadrangle of the Université Magique Français. He'd been here once before as a young boy. At the time, the Ministry had only been in power a few years. All was not lost, yet. Master Hale had come to the Université for a meeting of his fellow wizards. The university was closed by then, but they'd managed a secret conclave anyway. Alarick wasn't certain what the meeting was about. Looking back over the distance of time, he assumed it was likely one of the last times the wizards gathered to plot resistance against the Ministry. As far as he could remember, it wasn't long after that meeting that the Ministry began exterminating magical villages.
Master Hale dragged him along to expose him to a wider world of magic than he'd seen at the Keep. Not much about it had stuck with Alarick, however, other than the idea that there were witches and wizards of every nationality and race in the world. He remembered thinking how impossible it would be for the Ministry to kill them all. How naive he'd been then, he thought bitterly.
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