Bringers of Magic (Arucadi Book 2)

by E. Rose Sabin

  He took the least traveled route he knew, but as he neared his destination, he had no choice but to take the busy downtown streets. At least the lamplighters had already made their rounds, and the streetlights let him find his way. He knew the most likely spot for the gallows to have been set up. Though public executions were rare, they were not unheard of, and other types of public punishments were common. His father had once been publicly whipped for drunkenness. That whipping had been carried out in a large, empty lot near the railway station, and it was to that spot that he headed.

  He didn’t want to run anyone down, so he had to slow Bitsy a bit, but he kept her to a good trot all the way to his destination.

  If there had been an execution here, it was over. There were no crowds, no peacekeepers, only darkness. Looping the reins over his wrists, he cupped his palms and called forth a globe of light. By that illumination he saw the gallows standing where he expected it. The weeds were trampled as though a crowd had been here, but now the place was utterly deserted. He must have missed the execution by a considerable time for the area to be so empty now.

  He extinguished his light globe and, weighed down by the heaviness of grief, turned Bitsy away from the field of death. He told himself that he didn't know that Marta was dead, that he had to find out what had happened. But his shoulders slumped and his hands held the reins so loosely that Bitsy picked her own route through town.

  “Hey, look! It’s Simple Eddie!”

  The shout made him straighten and swing around to see who had called out. “Hey, fool, everybody’s been looking for you.”

  The taunter stood in the light of a street lamp. Ed recognized the jeering face and spiteful eyes of one of the boys who had tormented him and taken Councilor Hardwick’s note.

  It would be so easy to turn Bitsy and gallop toward the lad to frighten him or maybe even run him down. The act would be revenge not only for the way he had been treated but also for what the town had done to Marta. He turned the horse toward the boy.

  But to give in to his anger would be wrong. It would be returning evil for evil.

  Instead, he asked, “Did you go to the hanging this afternoon?”

  “Yep. What a show!” The boy rolled his eyes. “Too bad you missed it!”

  Ed’s grip tightened on the reins. Again he kept himself from driving the horse forward. His anger must have registered on his face. The boy whirled around and ran, shouting, “Simple Eddie’s back! Get Simple Eddie!”

  In the distance he heard answering shouts. He kicked his heels against Bitsy’s sides, and she surged forward. He raced her through the streets, and the shouts faded into the distance behind him.

  He realized suddenly that he could not go back to Miss Abigail’s house. They’d look for him there, and he’d get her in trouble. If he could find a place to hide, he could let Bitsy go. She’d return home on her own, of that he had not the slightest doubt.

  He thought of a place that should be safe. With Mother Esterville and Jerome at Miss Abigail’s, the Esterville home would be empty. Large as it was, it had plenty of hiding places. He had only to reach it unobserved—not too difficult by night. He stopped Bitsy, looked around to get his bearings, and set her on a course for the house.

  He’d gone only a short distance when. at an intersection, a group of men came toward him on foot along the side street. They were armed and carrying torches.

  He tried to speed past before they recognized him, but one shouted, “That’s Simple Eddie,” and they all broke into a run.

  He coaxed Bitsy into a gallop. Shots exploded behind him. Bitsy shied and raced away. He fought to get her back under control. By the time he managed to bring her to a halt, they had left the pursuers far behind.

  They were looking for him. Hiding at the Esterville home might not be such a good idea after all. But it was still the only place he could think of.

  Getting his bearings, he guided Bitsy to it, stopped, and dismounted. He looped the reins around the horn of the saddle and slapped Bitsy on the rump. “Go on home, girl,” he told her.

  She wasted no time in obeying, clattering off down the street. Even at night she’d find her way.

  It was harder for him in the darkness, and with search parties so near he dared not kindle the mage light. He felt his way back to the house and circled it on foot, looking for a way in. The doors he tried were all locked; he’d expected as much but hoped to find an open window.

  He remembered that the first floor windows were always kept locked, but those on the second floor had remained open. A tree growing against the side of the house provided access to those windows.

  It wasn’t easy, climbing in the dark. Even going very slowly, he made more noise than he liked. Leaves rustled as he forced through them, and some branches broke off with a loud snap when he grasped them. Others scraped loudly against the side of the house as they bent beneath his weight. At last, though, he reached a window, worked it open, and pushed at the screen. It fell inward with a loud clatter. He tumbled in after it, landing on top of the screen.

  He was scrambling to his feet when a bright light blinded him. “Stop right there. Don’t move!” said the voice behind the light.

  Startled into compliance, he stood frozen, hands upraised. Then he smiled. He recognized that voice.

  Exhausted after the healing, Abigail fell asleep immediately. But her sleep was haunted by dreams. She dreamed that the parents of all her students—former students—were jeering at her, shouting, “Magician! Witch!” That her students were pointing at her accusingly, Veronica Crowell in the forefront, and from Veronica’s finger a stream of fire sped toward her and engulfed her in flames. She awoke screaming, but was soon asleep again. And dreaming again.

  This time she dreamed of a gallows, and guards leading her to it while a crowd gathered around shouting, “Kill the witch! Put her to death!” Then she dreamed of Jerome rising out of a grave, dead and decaying yet horrifyingly alive. He pointed a skeletal finger at her and in a hollow voice said, “Liar! Your spell working is false. You claimed to bring me back to life, but I’m still dead.”

  She dreamed of Edwin, saying to her, “Cousin? You’re no cousin of mine!”

  And she dreamed of Leah lying in the street, trampled by horses, her body bloody and broken. She heard the thunder of the horses’ hoofs, crushing Leah’s body into the ground.

  She awoke still hearing the pounding hoof beats. She hadn’t dreamed them—they were real!

  She jumped from her bed and hurried to the window. Peering out into the night, she made out the form of a single horse, racing toward the barn.

  She grabbed a robe, lit a lantern, and carried it downstairs. As she reached the front door, Mother Esterville called to her, “What is it?”

  “A horse. With no rider. Have to see about it.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  She didn’t want that, but she wouldn't take time to argue. She hurried to the barn, with Mother Esterville trailing behind her. In the barn she found Bitsy, lathered, reins dragging on the ground. Edwin must have taken her, but where was he? What had happened? She had to know.

  “I’m going to get dressed and go looking for Edwin,” she announced.

  “I’ll go with you,” Mother Esterville said. “I think it’s safe to leave Jerome alone. He seems physically well, but he ignores me no matter what I do. If I can find Kyla, she might know how to help.”

  “I’ll have to find you something to wear, then,” Abigail said crossly. “You can’t go traipsing around town in that filthy old robe.”

  Mother Esterville looked down at the now-tattered robe as though she hadn’t realized until this moment what she was wearing. “My gracious, I’ve been doing that for two days,” she said. “But if you have something I can change into, I’ll be only too glad to put on more appropriate dress.”

  “Come, then, let’s hurry. Help me get Bitsy unsaddled and into her stall.”

  No time to wash the horse or even brush her. Abigail remove
d the saddle and with Mother Esterville’s help lifted it off the horse, then walked the horse around the barn a few times—too few—before leading her into her stall and removing her halter and bit. She checked to be certain there was hay in the manger and water in the trough.

  Bitsy had clearly been ridden hard. Even if Abigail had wanted to hitch her up to the carriage and drive to town, she didn’t think Bitsy was ready for that work. Sissy or Mite would do, but they were both temperamental. Ed could manage them with no problem, but she didn’t trust herself to do so.

  She’d walked to town often enough, though never before in the middle of the night. By day the walk took little more than half an hour; carrying lanterns, they shouldn’t need much longer than that by night.

  It took Abigail little time to dress adequately if carelessly. With Elspeth, who had dressed just as quickly in an ill-fitting skirt and blouse, she set off at a determined pace. Edwin might not want or need her help, but she would at least discover what was happening to him and to the wonder workers whose lives had so inexorably complicated hers.

  Both Leah and Veronica slept soundly, Leah in the chair and Veronica on the bed. Kyla needed sleep, too, but she didn’t dare give in to that need. Someone had to keep watch.

  Still, she was nodding off in spite of herself when she heard noises outside. Instantly alert, she tiptoed from the room into the hall. Someone was trying to get in through the window at the end of the corridor.

  Because she’d eaten nothing and had no rest, her power had not come back. She slipped back into the room where Leah and Veronica still slept and grabbed Hardwick’s pistol and the lighted lantern. The pistol would provide some protection, but she had little idea how to use it and hoped not to have to.

  By the time she returned to the hall, the intruder had the window open and the screen pushed in. As she moved toward him, he fell on top of the screen with a great clatter.

  Before he could rise, she stepped toward him and prayed that he would not notice how her hand was shaking as she pointed the pistol at him. “Stop right there,” she ordered. “Don’t move.”

  He lifted his head so that the light fell on his face. That face wore a glad smile. Ed!

  “Miss Kyla!” he greeted her, blinking in the light.

  With a glad cry she moved forward to help him stand. “Ed, wherever did you come from? We were afraid you’d been killed.”

  “It’s a long story, Miss Kyla,” he said.

  “Ed!” Leah came out into the hall and ran toward them. She threw her arms around Ed and hugged him tightly, then stepped back and looked into his face. “Oh, Ed, we’ve been so worried about you. Does Abbie know you’re back?”

  “Yes, Miss Leah. I’ve just come from there. Jerome was almost dead, and Miss Abigail healed him.”

  “Abbie? Healed him? How?”

  “I can see you do have a lot to tell us,” Kyla said. “Come sit down.”

  “I’d like to, Miss Kyla, but we’re in danger. Councilor Hardwick and his men aren’t far away. They spotted me, and I ran. They didn’t see me come here, I don’t think, but …”

  “But we can’t take chances,” Kyla finished for him. “I know. I only wish I knew what to do.”

  “And I wish I could have saved Marta.” Ed hung his head. “I knew they were going to hang her, but Mother Esterville was so upset about Jerome, and I had to help him for her sake, and by the time I could get away …”

  “I know, Ed.” Kyla put her arm around his shoulders. “The same thing happened to me. I wanted to go to Marta, but I felt obliged to try to save Hardwick’s daughter first. At least you did save Jerome. I couldn’t save Genevieve. Hardwick wouldn’t let me get close to her.”

  “What happened?” Ed looked bewildered.

  “Veronica Crowell killed her.” Leah’s voice was flat.

  “She didn’t mean to,” Kyla said. “She didn’t know she had the power.”

  Leah shrugged and turned to gaze out the window Ed had come through.

  “I guess you have a lot to tell, too,” Ed said. “I wish we could talk, but I think we’d better watch for the Council Master and his men.”

  “You’re right,” Kyla said, “but let me check on Veronica.”

  “She’s here?”

  “Yes, sleeping,” Kyla answered, moving toward the room where she’d left the child.

  She looked in only long enough to satisfy herself that the girl still slept soundly. When she returned to the hall, she saw Ed staring sadly at the door to the room Marta had used.

  She went to him and took his arm. “I know. I’d give so much to open that door and find Marta there.”

  He nodded and in the lantern light the tears glimmered in his eyes. Slowly he turned the knob and pushed open the door.

  Voices in the hallway outside her room roused Marta from a deep sleep. Groggy, she rose up on one elbow and stared at the door. It swung open and lantern light shone on Ed as he stepped inside the room.

  Marta jumped to her feet, all traces of sleep banished. “Ed!”

  Her cry was simultaneous with his of “Marta!”

  It took less than a second for the two of them to bridge the gap between them and throw themselves into each other’s arms.

  “I was so afraid you were dead,” Marta said when she could speak.

  “I was certain you were,” Ed’s voice sounded as choked as hers.

  Her cheek pressed against his, her tears mingling with his as her relief mingled with a great upwelling of joy. Her lips brushed his, then clung. She and Ed might as well have been alone in the universe.

  A childish voice penetrated the isolation of that private world. “Miss Kyla, Miss Leah, there are men outside with torches. And I think I hear my father. He’s calling me, but I don’t want to go.”

  Marta and Ed drew apart and faced the others. Ed was blushing. Marta smiled at him. “It’s okay,” she whispered, taking his hand.

  Leah was regarding them with surprise, but Kyla had turned to Veronica. The girl, still rubbing sleep from her eyes, said, “I’m scared. What will they do to me?”

  “Nothing,” Kyla answered firmly. “Your father won’t let them hurt you. Anyway, it’s probably us they’re after, not you.”

  “Well, I don’t want them to hurt you, either,” Veronica declared. “You didn’t do anything bad.”

  Marta could hear the shouts outside now, too. Men’s angry voices called out to them to come out or burn.

  “How’s your power?” Kyla asked Marta.

  Marta considered. Her sleep had helped, but not enough. Her power was still at low ebb. It would take a good meal, a bath, and a full night’s sleep to restore it. She’d get none of those things. “I used it all up getting free of the gallows,” she said. “I can’t do much of anything. Maybe manage a mage light, but that’s about it.”

  Kyla’s brow furrowed. “I don’t have any, either. It took all I had to get Veronica away from Hardwick and his men.”

  “Ed, how’s your power?” Marta asked.

  “I’m not sure,” he answered slowly. “I can’t get us out of here, I don’t think. I could maybe get to my special place myself, but I’m pretty certain I couldn’t take more than one person with me. I’m not even sure of that, but I’ll try, if you want.” He looked questioningly at Marta.

  She’d be the one he’d take. It was tempting—to go away with Ed, to be alone with him, away from all this hatred, all these people who wanted to kill them. To be safe, to be protected. To be free to explore her newfound love for Ed. He was different from any man she’d ever known—safe, gentle, demanding nothing and giving so much. Alone with him she’d have nothing to think about or worry about.

  Kyla, who’d been watching her closely, said, “Go with him if you want, Marta. You’ve already come so close to death. There’s no need for you to face it again. Without your power, you couldn’t help us.”

  Ed looked longingly at her. “Marta?”

  If she agreed, he’d take her away at once. She did no
t doubt that he could. But his stance betrayed uneasiness. Much as he wanted to take her away, it was a decision he’d regret and feel guilty about later.

  So would she.

  The shouts outside grew louder, and Marta smelled smoke. “No,” she said, squeezing Ed’s hand. “I won’t go anywhere we can’t all go. We’ll face them together.”

  Before anyone could stop her, Veronica dashed from the room. They all poured out into the hall after her, but she had disappeared. However, in seconds she raced back to them and said, panting, “They have set fire to the back of the house. The house is burning!”

  “We’d better hurry, then,” Kyla said.

  They all rushed down the stairs to the first floor. As they went, Kyla said, “I don’t intend to surrender. I don’t know what we can do, but we’ll do what we can. Leah, they aren’t after you. If you surrender to them, I think they’ll let you go home.”

  “I’m not leaving you,” Leah said.

  “But you have no power, no way to defend yourself.”

  “From what you’ve just said, you don’t have much now yourselves. Whatever happens, I’m facing it with you.”

  “All right,” Kyla said, taking the lead as she always did. “We’ll walk out the front door together and let them see we aren’t afraid.”

  “Me, too,” Veronica said. “I’ll tell ’em to leave you alone.”

  Kyla smiled. “You do that, chickadee,” she said.

  They headed for the front entrance, Marta still hand in hand with Ed. She could smell smoke and imagined that she could already feel the heat of the flames, though the fire had not reached this part of the house. “I’ll act as brave as I can,” she whispered to Ed, “but I’m really scared to death.”

  “I’m scared, too,” he whispered back. “Not like I used to be, though. They can’t scare me that way anymore.”

  She nodded, knowing what he meant. Whatever happened, Ed had been transformed. No matter what those men out there called him, he’d stopped being “Simple Eddie” in his own mind. They couldn’t take that away from him.