Dark Mirror (13 page)

The teacher’s smile widened. “Let us all welcome Victoria Mansfield.”

As swift applause echoed off the hard walls, Jack Rainford called, “Tea time! We shall celebrate our new member.”

“Not yet,” Miss Wheaton said firmly. “Practice your lifting exercises while I speak with Victoria.” Leaving the group, she joined Tory and led them back to the corner where they’d spoken before.

“In your Lackland classes, I focus on how to control magic so it can be locked down. Now it’s time to talk a bit about the theory of magic,” the teacher said. “You know the exercises I teach about visualizing your power being bound with silver cords?”

Tory nodded. “It seems too easy. I thought there would be spells or potions.”

“Magic comes from the mind, whether you wish to suppress it or develop it. Some mages use spells and rituals because it helps them focus their power and their will, but the English magical traditions teach visualization. Imagine the outcome you want, then channel power into that image.”

“That’s how I do my floating!” Tory exclaimed. “I think about rising, and I do. I hadn’t realized that I was doing it right.”

“You have good instincts,” Miss Wheaton replied. “We like to say that power follows thought. The clearer and stronger your thoughts, the quicker and more effective the outcome.”

“I found that out the first time I bumped my head into the ceiling!”

“A bump on the head is worth an hour of lecturing on theory,” the teacher said with a smile. “No two mages in this room have identical abilities. With training, you will learn which are your abilities. Most mages are very good in one or two areas, and have more modest abilities in several others. As I told you before, most mages can do at least a little healing, but few have the healing talent that Elspeth and I do.”

“Is it the same with weather working and Jack Rainford?”

“Exactly. Any mage can learn how to move a cloud or raise a breeze, but few can build or shift a large storm. Jack is our best, and we are developing techniques to feed him more power as he needs it.”

“At least I can do that.” Tory frowned. “Miss Wheaton, I have a question. Why do the well-bred despise magic so much when the lower orders embrace it?”

“It is claimed that magic is evil or dishonest or manipulative.” The teacher frowned at her linked hands. “But I think the real reason is that to become a mage, one must be born with talent and then work hard to develop it. Money can’t buy talent. Men who are rich and powerful in worldly terms deeply resent that this is a kind of power they can’t have themselves. Since they can’t buy talent, only hire it, they condemn magic.”

“So if wellborn parents tell their children magic is wrong, the children will grow up despising magic and pass that condemnation on to their own children,” Tory said. “People of the middling sort who wish they were better born copy the attitudes of aristocrats to make themselves feel superior, so they sneer at magic, too.”

“There are always independent thinkers who will come to different conclusions, but they are rare.” Miss Wheaton gestured to encompass those in the room. “Most people accept what they have been told without thinking much about it. Going against the wind isn’t easy. But sometimes it’s necessary.”

“What if the French don’t try to invade?”

“The Irregulars will still have the skills they learned here. No one needs to use magic if she chooses not to—but it’s good to have the choice.” Miss Wheaton rose. “Time for the last exercise of the night, our joining circle. We all hold hands and share our power. It’s a way of harmonizing and learning to work together. Usually we use the energy to start heating our tea water.” She clapped her hands. “Circle time!”

With a shuffling of chairs, the students stood and arranged themselves in a circle in the open part of the room. As Tory tentatively moved into place, Elspeth arrived and took her left hand. “It will feel rather strange, as if all the notes of a chamber quartet are singing through you. In time, you’ll be able to recognize everyone in the circle by the flavor of their energy.”

Jack Rainford appeared and took Tory’s right hand in a warm, strong grip. “After this, we have tea along with shortbread made by the mother of one of the village students. Some Irregulars claim they come here just because of her baking.”

Trying not to show that she was flustered by Jack’s touch, she asked, “No one will be able to read my mind, will they?”

Elspeth laughed. “No, you’ll just be one more note in the symphony of the Irregulars. It would be noticeable if someone was very upset, but there are no mind readers here. Just close your eyes and breathe in and out slowly. You’ll feel Jack and me most strongly since we’re touching.”

Once everyone was linked, including the teachers, Mr. Stephens said, “And so we beginnnnn…” The last word was drawn out into a hum.

Tory closed her eyes obediently and took a slow, deep breath. Then she exhaled sharply as power flowed through her. Though it wasn’t really like music, she couldn’t think of a better comparison. Surely Elspeth was that strong, pure note like crystal bells.

Jack’s energy was deeper. Wilder. He held the power of storms.

She couldn’t separate out the other energy threads, though she guessed that Miss Wheaton might be a low, true power that contributed stability and comfort. Tory had no idea what she herself brought to the group. It would take time to learn who was who, but the rush of power that flowed through her was exhilarating.

Tory wasn’t sure how long they held hands before Miss Wheaton’s soft voice said, “And slowly end.…”

As the circle broke up, a girl across the room said with surprise, “The tea water is boiling already!”

“You must have added a good jolt of energy to the circle, Vicky!” Jack said admiringly, not releasing his grip.

Tory pulled her hand loose. “Surely not that much. I’m a newcomer here.”

“Perhaps Tory helps blend energies well,” Elspeth said. “Like water allows salt and sugar to dissolve. Miss Wheaton has mentioned that there are such talents. Tory, come meet the rest of the girls.” Deftly, Elspeth whisked Tory away from Jack.

As they headed to a corner of the room that looked like a kitchen, Elspeth said under her voice, “Jack is a good fellow, but he does like to flirt.”

Tory grinned. “I noticed.”

Mr. Stephens intercepted them. “Victoria, I’m so glad you’ve joined us. We are blessed to be able to contribute toward such vital work.”

Though not particularly handsome, he had a smile that made Tory appreciate what Miss Wheaton saw in him. She hoped he couldn’t tell that she still had reservations about embracing her magic. “I’ll try to be useful.”

The teacher studied her thoughtfully. “Elspeth is right. You have the rare ability to blend and enhance the energy of other mages. It’s a very useful talent.”

Tory wasn’t sure whether to be glad or alarmed at having a special talent. As the teacher was called away by someone else, Elspeth resumed their progress toward the simple kitchen. There was a pump for water, cabinets to hold china and utensils, and several cats who watched with interest. Instead of a regular fireplace and hearth, there was a long, narrow slab of stone with two large kettles simmering on it. There was no fuel under the kettles, only the stone, which radiated heat.

A younger girl gazed intently at a stone oven that was open in front. Inside were platters of shortbread squares. Tory asked, “Is she heating that shortbread with magic?”

“Yes, Alice is our best at producing heat,” Elspeth replied. “We can’t burn fires down here because of the smoke, so her talents are really useful.”

As Alice concentrated on the shortbread, two boys stepped forward to lift the kettles from their hot stone. They poured the boiling water into large teapots that had been prepared with dry tea leaves.

Alice stood and brushed the knees of her skirt. “You’re the new lass,” she said with a country accent. “As you can see, I come from a long line of hearth witches.”

Tory laughed and offered her hand. “Such a useful skill! I don’t think I can do anything half so helpful. I’m Tory.”

“You’re just beginning to learn what you can do,” Alice said consolingly. “So daft that you aristocrats are punished for your magic! Such a waste.”

Elspeth introduced her to the girls preparing the tea and putting shortbread on plates. A local girl who looked like Jack turned out to be his younger sister, Rachel.

Both village girls and schoolgirls welcomed Tory warmly. She began to relax in a way she hadn’t known since she’d woken up floating over her bed. The Lackland students might be outcasts from society, but together, they were a community.

People collected cups of tea and pieces of shortbread and drifted off to join others. Tory saw clusters of boys, clusters of girls, and several mixed groups. They found spots around tables or pulled chairs together so they could chat. There was no sense of rigid division like what Tory had seen in the school.

There were even two couples who had found corners where they could be private. Tory saw faint glows of pinkish energy around both pairs. Romance in the Labyrinth.

Her gaze moved to Allarde. He was studying her with grave eyes that made her think of medieval warrior monks. Again there was that snap of connection. He looked away and she did the same, though she couldn’t shed her prickly sense of awareness.

She joined Elspeth, Alice, and several other girls at the long kitchen table. The hot, sweet tea was very welcome. After a swallow, Tory tried a piece of shortbread. “Lovely!” she said appreciatively. “Do study sessions always end with such treats?”

“Learning to master our magic burns a lot of energy.” Elspeth tossed fragments of shortbread to two cats who had stationed themselves under the table. “After classes, we need to build up our strength again.”

Tory took another piece of shortbread. “What a fine excuse to eat more.”

She was just biting into her second piece when Allarde approached the table, his gaze fixed on her. Tory almost choked on her shortbread. She’d seen him only at a distance. Close-up, he was even more handsome, with softly waving dark hair and compelling eyes. His quiet intensity made him seem older than his years.

“Welcome to the Labyrinth,” he said. “Are you related to Geoffrey Mansfield? Now Lord Smithson? He was called Mansfield Major because there was a younger Mansfield at the school.”

Allarde was
tall.
Tory scrambled to her feet so he wouldn’t loom over her so much. “Geoffrey is my brother. The young one was cousin George, from the Shropshire branch of the family.”

“Mansfield Minor,” Allarde said with a nod. “I was one of your brother’s fags, and glad of that. He was the best of the senior students.”

Fags were first-year students who were required to act as servants to the older students. “Geoffrey has always been a good brother,” Tory said. “I shouldn’t think even Eton would make him a bully.”

“Eton doesn’t always bring out the best in boys.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m Allarde, by the way.”

“I thought in the Labyrinth we use first names?”

“Mostly yes.” He shrugged. “For some reason, I’m always called by my title.”

“I’m usually called Tory.” She clenched her hands into fists to resist her desire to touch Allarde. If she did that, surely sparks would shoot into the air. “Do you have a particular talent, or shouldn’t I ask? I don’t know all the unwritten rules yet.”

“One is allowed to ask.” A whisper of a smile touched his eyes. “I’m good at moving objects”—a piece of shortbread swooped gracefully from the table and hovered in front of Tory—“and also at drawing conclusions from fragments of information.”

She blinked and accepted the shortbread. “Both useful. Piecing information together would be a good military talent, I think.”

His eyes brightened. “My family tree is full of soldiers and sailors. I think a fair number of them must have had magical ability, but there’s no evidence. They were better at concealing their talents than I was.”

“You may well have your chance to prove yourself in war,” Tory said.

“We all will.” He inclined his head. “I look forward to … working with you.”

As he left, Elspeth gave a soft laugh. “Interesting. Very interesting indeed.”

CHAPTER 14

Interesting indeed. When Tory turned to Elspeth, the other girl said, “We should leave now. People trickle out a few at a time so there’s less chance of being noticed.”

Tory noticed that the group was getting smaller, with students going off in different directions. She lifted the shawl she’d draped over her chair and prepared to leave. “Will it be the same route I used to get here?”

“No, I’ll show you a different way.”

As they headed for a tunnel, Miss Wheaton intercepted them and offered Tory a small, water-polished stone that buzzed with magic. “Carry this stealth stone when you come to the Labyrinth,” the teacher said. “It will help prevent you from being detected.”

Tory studied the stone. It was translucent white, made from quartz, perhaps. “How does it work?”

“The stone is charged with a spell that makes people less likely to see or hear you. You won’t be invisible, but roommates probably won’t realize that you’ve been gone, and if someone sees you, they won’t question why you are where you are. Without these stones, it would be impossible for us to come and go unnoticed.”