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Authors: Caroline Stevermer

BOOK: A Scholar of Magics
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Jane chose not to permit him to do so. She followed him for a few yards, just far enough to clear the shadow of the
gate. Then, wincing at the waste of energy she undertook in trying a spell so close to the confines of Glasscastle, she altered the appearance of a small heap of horse droppings. In their place, a small heap of golden guineas caught the morning sunlight.
The man without a bowler hat swerved toward the money, drawn by the lure of gold. He stopped in his tracks and leaned forward to grasp the coins. As he did so, Jane caught up with him. She was hardly able to see for the pain in her head the spell caused her, but when she had barreled into him, she knocked him off balance. Once he was down, Jane was able to bend his leg back, get a firm grim on his ankle and toe, immobilizing him, and then keep him down by dint of sitting on him.
“Get off me!” The man struggled to dislodge Jane's weight. When he failed, he waxed profane.
“Help!” Jane could not wave to attract the gatekeeper's attention but when the situation warranted, she had excellent lung capacity and a penetrating voice. Shouting for assistance all the while, Jane released her spell. The bareheaded man uttered a cry of disgust and began to swear even more volubly as the golden guineas he clutched turned back into horse droppings.
Jane wanted to swear, herself. Her headache was worthy of the strongest language and the gatekeeper's reluctance to come to her aid filled her with rage. Whatever Glasscastle chose to pride itself on, however devoted they were to the inconvenience of guests in the name of systematic exclusion of visitors, the basic notion of security was nowhere on the list.
“Why are you vexed, Lady?
Why do you frown?”
L
ambert was no novice in the art of the quick getaway. During his years on the road, he'd learned that few possessions were irreplaceable. Of those few, even fewer were worth compromising the ability to travel light and fast. His essentials fit into a small valise with room left over for half a dozen clean collars. The collars weighed almost nothing, but Lambert faltered.
Take what you need and let the rest go.
Lambert had always believed that was the key to travel, but now he learned there was a more important tenet. The true key to travel was the desire to go. Lambert didn't have the slightest wish to leave Glasscastle. He hesitated, the collar box in his hand.
It was simple. Fell needed to leave. Lambert didn't want him traveling alone. Lambert packed the collars, closed and locked his valise, and left his room without a backward glance.
Fell was already packed and ready to travel. Such efficiency on Fell's part made Lambert wonder just how many times in his life Fell had needed to make a quick exit.
The pair of them, Lambert still limping slightly, walked through the great gate as the bells of Glasscastle began to
strike eleven. To Lambert's surprise and Fell's visible dismay, Jane Brailsford was waiting on the stone bench. She wore a becoming straw hat, which she was just adjusting to a better angle as they arrived.
Jane greeted them with a smile that did nothing to conceal the steely glimmer of her annoyance. “Good morning, gentlemen. I thought you might come this way. Mr. Lambert, I blush to confess I followed you from Robin's house. Forgive the impertinence. At least it was warranted impertinence.”
“You followed me?” Somewhere beneath the confusion caused by his headache and the unusual formality of Jane's manner, Lambert was tolerably sure he'd been insulted. “Didn't you trust me to deliver your message?”
“I was certain you'd deliver it.” Jane eyed Fell. “This was precisely the sort of response I expected.”
“You'll forgive us if we don't stay to socialize, Miss Brailsford,” Fell said firmly. “We have a train to catch. As you surmise, we're leaving. Now. It's a matter of some urgency.”
“Fine, I'll walk with you.” Jane's tones were dulcet. “I'm so glad you didn't arrive fifteen minutes sooner. I would have missed you. By the oddest coincidence, that man Mr. Lambert and I saw, the one who appears so skilled at eluding the gatekeeper's notice, departed while I was waiting here at the gate. For some reason, he seemed in a tearing hurry. I suppose you have no idea why?”
“You saw him?” Lambert turned to her. “Did you see which way he went?”
“Oh, yes. The authorities took him away for questioning. I thought of going along, but I didn't want to risk missing you, Mr. Fell.”
“By Jove,” said Fell. “They caught him?”
“What sort of authorities?” Lambert demanded. “What kind of questioning?”
“Strictly speaking, I caught him. Nicked him, that is.” Jane's self-satisfaction fairly shone out of her. “I believe they've taken him to the police station. The nick, they called it. Strange, the way one word can mean many things, some contradictory. It must make being a criminal so confusing.”
“How did you catch him?” Lambert asked.
Jane inspected the gloves she wore and clucked disapprovingly over the stain that marred one. “Fortunately, he did not have a mind above money. I feared he might.”
Lambert met Fell's eyes. “Do you get the feeling she's enjoying herself?”
“Oh, yes.” Fell sighed. “Still, she's earned it. Very well, Miss Brailsford. We surrender. Victory is yours. Your audience is rapt. Take pity on us and tell us exactly what happened.”
“Are we going to walk all the way to the train station?” Jane asked. “I only ask because Mr. Lambert is limping. The police station is even farther than the railway station. Wouldn't you rather stop at Robin's house and have it all out in comfort first?”
“I am not limping,” said Lambert.
“Lead on, young Amazon,” Fell replied. “We follow.”
 
W
hen they were settled in the Brailsford parlor, gloves off and the obligatory cups of tea in hand, Jane relented. “Such attentive listeners. You're very good to humor me this way. I'll drive you to the police station as soon as we're finished.
Or perhaps you'd prefer to stay to lunch? I think it's chicken divan and duchess potatoes. I'll drive you there after lunch, if you prefer.”
Lambert felt cheered by the mere thought of lunch. Although his headache had been banished by the cup of tea, his bruises were still coming out like stars. Lambert remembered he'd been in a hurry all morning and last night's dinner had been very long ago.
Fell didn't yield an inch. “I see no need to delay matters for a meal. Please tell us what happened.”
“Very well. I took the precaution of following Mr. Lambert back to the university since I thought you might be reluctant to accept my invitation.” Jane eyed Fell over the rim of her teacup. “As I told you, I hadn't been waiting long when I recognized the man rushing through the gate as the mysterious caller from the day before yesterday. The gatekeeper paid him no attention, even though he was bareheaded. Enough to make anyone stare, a grown man out without a hat.”
“He left it in my study,” said Fell. “Go on.”
“Did he? I'd like a chance to inspect it, if you have no objection. I've found that headgear can be unexpectedly informative at times.” For a moment, Jane seemed lost in pleasant memories. When Fell cleared his throat, she continued. “I'm not at my best here, so near the barriers of Glasscastle, but I was able to put my training to good use. He broke stride and I was able to catch him. Once I had him down, the gatekeeper summoned two constables. The local police are reluctant to have anything to do with matters
within Glasscastle, I gather, but I was able to persuade them to make an arrest.”
“Glasscastle has its own methods of dealing with miscreants within its walls,” said Fell. “Vice Chancellor Voysey and the other Provosts have jurisdiction there, not the constabulary.”
“The police seem delighted to leave anything within the gates of Glasscastle to the Provosts.” Jane looked thoughtful. “When I informed them of the circumstances of the man's previous visit to the archive, they agreed to take him into custody. They promised me they would summon the appropriate officials from Glasscastle to deal with the matter immediately. I hope they don't deal with it so promptly that we miss our chance to help.”
“You still haven't told us how you caught him,” Lambert pointed out.
Jane's eyes glowed at the recollection. “I made a small illusion, a trifle really, but luckily, an effective one.”
“You used an illusion on our very doorstep?” Fell was taken aback. “Was that wise?”
“Perhaps not. But once I had the man down, I was able to locate another illusion.” Jane produced a small objects, well wrapped in a man's handkerchief. “He had this in his pocket.”
Fell took the object, handkerchief and all, and inspected it. To Lambert it looked like a cylinder of dark wood, the same diameter but only half as long as one of Fell's cheroots, intricately carved. “Intriguing,” said Fell. He began to put it in his pocket.
Jane held out her hand and Fell surrendered the object with reluctance. “Isn't it?” Jane admired the carving a moment longer, then folded the handkerchief back over it and put it away in her embroidered drawstring bag. “Until I removed it, the gatekeeper seemed unable to see what all the fuss was about. That is, it was plain that I was behaving appallingly. But once he saw the man I was sitting on, he became much more helpful.”
“That's gratifying,” said Fell. “Though I'm not sure helpfulness should always be the first duty of a gatekeeper.”
“Wait,” said Lambert, “you mean the gatekeeper didn't know why you'd stopped the man?”
“No, I mean he didn't know that I
had
stopped the man. He didn't see him until I removed this interesting object from his pocket. Very rude the chap was about losing it too, quite profane.” Jane patted the bag in her lap. “I look forward to studying it in more detail.”
Lambert frowned. “What
is
it?”
Jane dropped her voice to its softest, lowest register. “It's magic, my dear Lambert. I don't know where it comes from, or precisely what it's for, but I think it's designed to permit an outsider to come and go without anyone from Glasscastle the wiser. A cloak of invisibility, if you like.”
“What for?” Lambert scowled impartially at Jane and Fell. “Why would someone who had power like that waste it on a doodad to let him walk on the grass?”
“Oh, I don't think our visitor made it himself.” Jane turned to Fell. “Only someone from Glasscastle could circumvent the barriers so neatly. Who would wish to do such a thing?”
“Why?” Lambert persisted. “Why would they do it?” It was his turn to round on Fell. “Just to get you away?”
“Perhaps.” Fell was pensive. “The intruder gave me the strongest impression that he wanted me to accompany him somewhere. Yet the possibilities for mischief inherent in something like this are boundless. Odd, to use it just for my benefit”
“Why would they use it on you?” Lambert asked.
“He's the warden of the west,” said Jane.
“Not at the moment, I promise you.” Fell applied himself to his cup of tea. “The intruder was careless coming up the steps. I am all too familiar with the sound of someone coming to see me, as the staircase squeaks deplorably. At first I couldn't see him. That interested me.”
“It worked on you too?” Jane asked.
“At first. I was looking directly at the doorway and although I distinctly heard his approach, I could not see him until he was within a few feet of me. Most unsettling it was too. One moment he was absolutely invisible. The next, he was absolutely visible, and reaching out to me.”
“Reaching out?” Jane looked intrigued. “To touch you? Did he have anything in his hand?”
“No, nothing at first,” Fell replied. “He seemed intent on getting me into some sort of wrestling hold. I asked him what the devil he meant by it. He seemed very surprised that I could see him. When he understood that I meant to resist, he threatened me with a gun.”
Jane looked appalled. “It's dangerous to threaten a warden.”
“Very likely,” snapped Fell. “I, however, am not a warden,
so I had to resort to physical resistance. Fortunate you turned up when you did, Lambert.”
“You and I could see him all along, because neither of us are Fellows of Glasscastle,” Lambert told Jane.
Jane looked nettled. “Thank you. I had grasped that much.”
“It only worked for him,” Lambert continued, thinking aloud. “It doesn't make anyone else invisible.”
“Do we know that?” Again Jane removed the bundle from her bag. “I didn't have time to try it myself.” With deliberation, she unwrapped the cylinder, and held it in her bare hand as she looked at Fell. “Anything?”
“I see you perfectly,” Fell informed her. “But then, I saw the intruder once he came close to me.”
“Drat.” Jane handed the cylinder to Lambert, who turned it over thoughtfully. “I wish Robin were here. He might be able to tell us more about the thing.”
“There is one quick way to find out whether it works or not.” Lambert inspected the carving closely. A pattern of ivy leaves spiraled around the cylinder. He liked the feel of the carving and the cool weight of it in his hand. “I could try walking on the grass again.”
“That's a bit drastic, surely,” said Fell.
“We'll test it some other way,” said Jane. “But do we want to try it immediately or should we question our intruder first? I'm sure the authorities will let us help them in their investigation if you ask them nicely, Mr. Fell.”
“I'm not interested in helping them in their investigation,” Fell said. “I have my own work to do.”
“Don't you want to know who is responsible for breaking into your study twice?” Jane held out her hand for the cylinder and Lambert turned it over to her. “Insolence, I call that. Sheer insolence.”
“You'll have to give the authorities some kind of statement,” Lambert said. “Trespassing is one thing. Attempted abduction, that's serious.”
“You too, Lambert?” Fell looked peeved. “Very well. I'll go with you. But this is all futile, a mere distraction from my work.”
“Fine. Intruder first, then when we're finished at the police station, you and I will go back to Glasscastle to perform a few tests on this thing, Lambert.” Jane put the cylinder away again, rose, and shook out her skirts with brisk decision. “I'll drive.”

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