Mage's End Game, page 2
“Are we truly ready for what awaits us in London?” Kitty asked, her brow wrinkling. Her gaze darted between Sera’s confident expression and the more worried faces gathered around the kitchen table.
“We don’t have the luxury of waiting. We must face Lord Rowan. There are only a few moves left in this game,” Sera replied. In her mind, she could visualise a decimated chessboard. A lone pawn bravely marched towards the other side of the board. But there were still pieces to rally behind her—the rooks, a wise bishop, and her faithful knight.
Sera’s gaze wandered to the frosted window panes, the world beyond obscured by the swirling snow. The road ahead was a fraught one, but there was no turning back. With a deep breath, she refocused her attention on her companions, resolve hardening within her.
“Personally, I want to see the look on Abigail’s face when you defeat her grandfather and she realises all her scheming was for nothing.” Kitty winked at Sera.
“I want to see the king free of whatever spell has poisoned his mind,” Hugh said.
Elliot grinned. “I want—”
“Your exotic dancer. We know!” Kitty and Sera shouted in unison, then burst into laughter.
Even in the darkest hour, there remained a glimmer of hope. A flame keeping the encroaching shadows at bay, fuelled by the tight bond between Sera and her friends.
“Where will you go, though? Lord Rowan will expect us all to return to my family's home.” Worries clearly continued to nibble at Kitty.
Sera tapped a fingernail against her mug. “You will return to your home and continue as usual. That will infuriate him—and we have ways to communicate that he cannot intercept. As for me, I am going to call on Ethel.”
“Isn’t that the ancient crone who lives in a hovel surrounded by graves?” Some of the colour drained from Elliot’s olive complexion.
“The very one. She’s going to love you, Elliot.” Sera chuckled into her tea.
There was a place right under Lord Rowan’s nose that he couldn’t infiltrate. Nor would the residents give her up to the soldiers for any price, regardless of their poverty.
The settlement beside Bunhill Fields cemetery gave its loyalty to the night witch who protected them.
Two
The storm blew through overnight and left a clear sky with only a few lingering clouds. The golden haze of dawn touched the horizon as Sera and her friends prepared to leave the sanctuary of the Crow’s Nest. Sera breathed deeply of the cool, crisp air, taking a moment to appreciate everything the journey had brought her so far. Most important were the friends who had become family.
“I will meet you in London,” said a gruff voice from nearby.
Sera turned to face Warin, the gargoyle who had taken up the role of guardian of the women and children of the Crow’s Nest. His stone skin glinted in the dim light of early morning, his large wings spreading out behind him like a cloak.
“How will we find you?” Last time, Sera had climbed to the belfry of a deserted church in a meeting arranged by her aunt, the gargoyle Natalie Delacour.
“I roost close to the church and will look out for you.” He shifted completely to his stone form and took to the sky, disappearing into the clouds above.
Hugh gazed after his distant relative, a look of wonder on his face. “I will never tire of seeing such wondrous things. What a world we live in.”
“Why did we have to be up at sparrow’s fart to see it?” Elliot grumbled as he checked the contents of his saddlebag. “Couldn’t we have had a sleep-in, had a large breakfast, and then headed out at a civilised time…like noon?”
“The days are short. I want to be in London before dark.” Sera hugged Hugh before she moved to her horse. The surgeon’s warm presence radiated a sense of security and grounded her in moments of uncertainty.
They had left the three sisters in the warm kitchen, preparing breakfast for the children who had also roused early. Erin could always meet them in London, to be ready should Sera need to call on the assistance of the Crows.
“You should leave Mr Brynn in my household, Sera. We will soon have him accustomed to early starts,” Kitty said as she took the reins of her horse.
Elliot shuddered and shook his head at Sera while mouthing No.
Sera hid a chuckle as she climbed onto the saddle. Soon, they were all mounted and trotting down the curving drive.
Conversation was subdued among them as they travelled less populated roads. As the sun progressed across the sky, they wound their way through the countryside, avoiding larger towns wherever possible. It was a longer route, but one that would keep them safe from unwanted attention.
After a long day, they finally spied the lingering haze from the coal fires that blanketed London. Sera guided her horse to a spreading elm and dismounted. Here, she would have to say goodbye to Kitty. But only for a little while.
She wrapped her friend in a tight embrace. “We have our paper and the mage silver rings to communicate. I will keep you abreast of whatever we discover.”
“Good. I have appointed myself campaign general, and I need intelligence to do that successfully.” When Kitty broke their hug, her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I shall set to work with Father to counter this ridiculous edict proclaiming you a traitor.”
Sera swallowed, a lump of gratitude stuck in her throat. “Thank you.”
Not one for lingering farewells, Kitty waved Elliot over to give her a leg up, then put heels to her horse and cantered off towards London.
Sera tugged her hood over her head to cast her features in shadow. Her skin prickled with awareness as they continued on their way. Lord Rowan sought to turn the people against her by offering a reward for any sightings. Anybody who shared the road with them might recognise her and seek to line their pockets with coin.
The winter sun dallied above the horizon as they reached the small settlement nestled beside Bunhill Fields. The ancient gravestones cast eerie shadows as they approached the dwellings sheltered by rolling hills. A sense of foreboding raced down Sera’s spine, but she pushed it aside. Fear would not control her decisions.
They tied their horses to a tree, and the mounts munched on the short grass.
Sera cast a critical eye over the little village, one that existed beneath the notice of most Londoners. But not her. Over the course of many visits, Sera had done what she could to improve their lives. Their tiny cottages were now warmer and drier, thanks to her enchantments that had repaired holes and added invisible layers of insulation. Gravelled pathways crunched beneath their boots, preventing the mud that would otherwise have been an issue during the wet winter months. Despite the challenges she faced, Sera couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride at the positive impact she’d had on these people’s lives.
A group of children ran up to her, all with wide grins. One had a gap where two front teeth were missing, the adult teeth just peeking through the gumline. “What have you got for us, Nyx?” she lisped through the space.
On previous visits, she had given the children magical lanterns that emitted a soft glow when tapped and that were safer than the exposed flames of candles. She’d also distributed her incredibly bouncy balls for their amusement. Today, she would create a different toy. Rubbing her hands together, she murmured a spell. Sera visualised the final effect in her mind as she whispered it into being between her palms. When she threw her hands apart, half a dozen dragonflies darted forth and hovered over the children.
“They will land on your hand, and you can launch them into the air.” She demonstrated by placing an outstretched hand under one and then casting it high to buzz around the group. “They also glow at night.”
Excited chatter broke out, and soon the luminous insects were making patterns in the evening sky. Leaving them to play, Sera and her two companions walked among the cottages, following the gravel path. Many residents called greetings to her, and all seemed genuinely pleased at her return. Sera’s boots crunched on the gravel as she made her way up the winding path towards Ethel’s cottage. The scent of lavender-infused tea wafted through the air, mingling with the faint aroma of wood smoke and the earthy musk of damp soil. The sun dipped lower, casting its watery light across the settlement below.
At the top of the hill sat the cottage with the crooked chimney and mismatched windows. As was her habit, Ethel sat on the porch in her rocking chair. Wispy white hair framed her weathered face like a halo of moonlight. A shawl was wrapped around her shoulders to guard against the chill of the day. Her gnarled hands gripped a wooden pipe, from which tendrils of fragrant smoke curled upwards, dissolving into the twilight.
“Knew you’d be back. And you’ve brought old Ethel a treat.” Her rheumy gaze roamed over Hugh’s bulk and Elliot’s lean frame. She chuckled as her attention settled on Elliot, and she withdrew the pipe to lick her lips.
“I’m not paid enough for this job,” Elliot muttered as he kicked a loose stone.
Sera stood on the bottom step. “Behave, Ethel. This is Mr Hugh Miles and Elliot Brynn. Both gentlemen are my friends.”
“A woman can dream, and I know who’ll be running through them tonight.” Ethel laughed, a wheezy sound that made Sera worry as to the condition of her lungs.
“I’d be running all right,” Elliot muttered.
Sera ignored him. If he wanted his private performance by the exotic dancer, he would have to earn it. “Mr Miles is a surgeon. Is there anyone in the village who might need his assistance?”
Ethel tilted her head at Hugh and then gestured to a cottage off to the right. “Mrs Cooper’s youngest has a terrible cough. She can’t afford a doctor.”
“I shall see what I can do.” Hugh touched Sera’s hand and then set off for the indicated home.
“How have you been?” Sera sat at the old woman’s feet. Elliot wandered off after Hugh, clearly preferring sick children to amorous old crones.
“The spirits are noisy. Keeps me awake at night.” As she spoke, she poured tea into two chipped mugs from a pot snuggled in a knitted cosy. Then she handed one to Sera.
Sera held the mug in two hands and inhaled. The liquid was aromatic with lavender and just a hint of bitterness to sharpen her senses. “Is Lord Thornton no longer supplying you with tea?”
“That’s a brew for letting the mind unwind. You need something to keep you alert.” She gave a knowing wink and exhaled a plume of smoke.
The spirits who communed with Ethel passed on all sorts of interesting titbits, such as when Sera would visit and where hidden valuables could be found.
Sera sipped the tart blend, and her brain did indeed perk up in the same way it did with Hugh’s campfire coffee. There was a question she needed to ask and didn’t want to risk offending. “Am I safe here?”
“If any of this lot dared turn in our Nyx for a stack of coin, they would answer to me in this life and the next.” A hard tone entered Ethel’s voice.
Sera had hoped that caring for the people cast off and ignored by London would earn her their loyalty. It reassured her to hear it. “Good. I need somewhere safe to lay my head tonight, if you would offer shelter to Nyx and her friends.”
“You’re one of us, and Bunhill folk stand shoulder to shoulder.” She set down the pipe to drink her cooling tea.
The sun dipped and cast long shadows across the small settlement. With the loss of light, the temperature dropped rapidly. Sera cast a warming spell around them as the old aftermage enjoyed sitting on her porch, whatever the weather.
“Lord Rowan seizes control of England, and I doubt he will better your lives.” Never once had he mentioned improving the lot of the lowest class of citizen. He wanted the political power to accompany his magical one for his own benefit.
“None of them gives a fig about us. Centuries come and go, but such men never change. Our men are arrow fodder in their battles. Our women to be badly used.” Ethel drained her mug with one long slurp.
“All it takes is one troublesome woman to make a stand,” Sera murmured into her mug. The odds were stacked against her. Lord Rowan would rally the Mage Council behind him, and he controlled the king’s army. But she had friends.
Ethel cackled with laughter. “You will show him. You are the spark that will start a forest fire.”
Sera focused on the path before her and didn’t waver. She would oppose Lord Rowan not only for herself and her friends but for those faceless souls so often trodden into the mud of their society. The ordinary people depended on her, and she would not let them down.
Age might cloud the old aftermage’s eyes, but she had a mind sharp with wisdom that bored into Sera’s soul as she spoke. “You’re safe here, but out there”—she gestured with her pipe beyond the trees to the barely visible rooftops—“are those who will turn on their own kind for a ha’penny, let alone what the old man is offering for you.”
“Don’t worry. Nyx will not leave this community but another will.” A lad would take Sera’s place as she altered her appearance to avoid Lord Rowan’s spies.
“There’s power in numbers but also danger.” Ethel tapped the pipe against the post to empty the ash.
“But multitudes cannot be held back. We are water. A swollen river about to rupture its banks,” Sera murmured as ideas and hope swirled inside her.
“The shadows will protect you.” Ethel picked up the cane beside her chair and stood. “Go, eat. There’ll be room on the floor to lay your head when you return.”
Sera strode down the hill, her footsteps soft on the gravel path. A trickle of magic laced around the cottages had, over time, asked the stones and gravel to push through the earth and form paths.
At the base of the hill, the cottages clustered around a common area. Laughter and chatter washed over Sera as she joined the residents. In the centre, a bonfire kept the cold at bay. A variety of items were arrayed around the edge for people to sit on—a chair here, a keg on its side there, an upturned box big enough to seat three children.
Sera sat on a rotund log, dragged in to serve as a bench seat. Hugh and Elliot joined her.
“How is the child?” Sera asked as she leaned into Hugh’s side.
“It’s a nasty bout of bronchitis. I’ve given the mother a few ways to ease the boy’s lungs tonight. In the morning, I’ll fetch a potion from the apothecary.” Hugh stretched out his legs and warmed his boots before the fire.
Potatoes were rolled in the embers at the base of the fire, and children watched them, ready to flick them out with a long pole when they were ready. The evening air was alive with the scent of roasting vegetables and sizzling meat, mingling with the earthy aroma of smoke. The crackling fire cast a warm, flickering glow on the faces of the villagers who had gathered to share a meal with Sera and her companions.
A shy young woman approached with a steaming bowl of root vegetables. She held it out to Sera and ducked away when she took it. Two older women passed bowls to Hugh and Elliot. While the village had little, they shared it with no hint of grumble or complaint. As Sera ate, warmth seeped into her chilled bones.
Beside the village lay a field where they grew their crops. Before she left, Sera would murmur to the soil and ensure it continued to provide the basics for the families who relied upon it.
Around the roaring flames, Elliot’s laughter rang out as he swapped stories with the young men of the village. A few admiring women circled him, like moths to a flame. His eyes sparkling with mischief, his grin infectious, he drew even the weariest villagers into his tales of daring escapades in the Fae realm. None of it was true, since he had returned to London after Sera and Hugh had crossed Shadowvane, but Sera wouldn’t let the truth ruin his entertaining yarns.
After he had finished his supper, Hugh excused himself to move among the assembled people. He quietly tended to their ailments and injuries with gentle hands. His tall, broad frame exuded reassurance. The faint trace of long-ago gargoyle in his blood lent him an air of solidity that others found comforting. Sera watched him with admiration, and her love for the gentle surgeon deepened.
Two of the children with the glowing dragonflies sat beside Sera, and they played a game, tossing it from one hand to another. They giggled and stole glances at her.
“I wish I were a mage. Then we could have thousands of toys,” one girl said.
Sera caught her gaze. “If you had lots of toys, you would grow bored with them and none would excite you. Magic isn’t about having everything. It’s about having exactly what you need.”
“I need new boots. These are too small, and my toes hurt,” the other girl lisped between the gaps in her teeth.
“That I can help with.” Sera wriggled her fingers and laid one palm on each boot. A big toe poked up under the leather on each. The girl had outgrown them, but her mother probably couldn’t afford a new pair. When Sera lifted away her hands, the girl wore dark-red leather boots with enough space for growing feet.
“Thank you, Nyx.” The girl jumped up and down a few times, then leaned forwards and kissed Sera’s cheek.
“Your influence here is palpable. These people love you for what you’ve done,” Hugh said as he took a break from his rounds to eat an apple roasted in the fire and drizzled with honey.
“And yet it’s not enough.” She could mend roofs and broken windows, give them magical lanterns and toys. But they needed education and better opportunities. They needed to be seen and heard.
“You can’t change the entire world at once, remember?” He stroked the arch of her neck with one hand.
“Do one small thing,” she murmured. Words he had spoken to her in a tenement in what seemed like a lifetime ago.
“Your efforts will build, and others like me and Kitty will augment it with actions of our own.” He lowered his hand to take hers. “Where exactly are we sleeping tonight if we cannot risk venturing into London?”
Sera suspected they had an uncomfortable night ahead of them, and she couldn’t risk using too much magic that other mages might sense. “On the floor of Ethel’s cottage. I suspect Elliot will prefer to sleep here.”
