Fascinated (25 page)

He was struggling to regain an even keel in his mind when Alicia’s thoughts, faint and distant, touched his own.

Edward?

I’m here,
he answered instantly.

I may have found something. But I need your help. Can you send…power to me?

Edward stretched his awareness out toward Alicia, but found he could barely brush against her presence. If they’d had more time to work together, she could have aided him as he reached, but as it was, it was taking all her effort to speak through their thoughts.

Not easily,
he told her.
But a little. Wait.

Carstairs relaxed his mind and reached deep, rooting himself into the earth to find the magic to channel toward Alicia. But where there should have been a darkly shining web of power for
him to gather up, Carstairs found only emptiness. The earth beneath Hartwell House was as blank and bare as the spirits of the men near him. Edward stretched further, and further. At last he was able to grasp a single thin thread, and unspool it for Alicia to catch hold of. Once certain she had firm hold of it, Carstairs fixed his face in an expression of polite boredom, and allowed his mind to range further along the thread of magic. Cautiously, he followed it through the earth, seeking the other end. Something was very wrong at Hartwell House, and not only in the hearts of its inhabitants at that.

Carstairs was so focused on his single thread, his awareness ran straight into the twisted expanse of pure, pulsating magic.

It took all Carstairs’s training not to slam his mind shut. Distantly, he felt Alicia working. He knew her to be troubled, but he had to trust her to hold steady. He didn’t dare pull his senses away from the edifice.

It was huge, almost past his ability to sense clearly. He had never felt such a complex construction. Most magic shaped by humans was simple for the Catalyst’s senses to supply meaning to. The power took on the feel of a knife, a rope, a cup, a candle, or some other plain, useful object for the Sorcerer to wield. This…this was a knot so fantastical it seemed to have neither beginning nor end. He was a sailor; he knew knots. No one tied a knot unless there was something to be secured. What in God’s name could wait in Hartwell house that needed to be so tightly secured?

In the distance, Alicia’s draw on his power broke off. Reflexively, Edward reached for her, but the sound of his name broke his concentration.

“…eh, Carstairs?” said Gavin Hartwell.

Carstairs blinked and slapped his mind shut. “As you say.”

“You’ll be staying to supper, I suppose?” Morris was filling his own glass again, and offered Carstairs the decanter. He waved it away. “I’m sure Eugenia will have a thing or two she wants to say about this affair. Shouldn’t deprive her of the chance.”

“I’m afraid I have some business that cannot wait, sir,” said Carstairs. A normal man would have blustered at this, but Morris just shrugged, as if it was of no matter to him. Which it probably was not. Deep pity ran through Edward. This debility was none of his fault. A criminal act had been perpetrated against the Hartwell family. “Another time, perhaps?”

“Yes, yes.” Gavin Hartwell lifted the drapes back to peer out at the garden. “All the time in the world now that the thing’s done.”

Morris grunted his agreement and finished off his whiskey. “Alicia may stay if she wishes. She and Verity were always pretty thick, weren’t they, Gavin? Want a good gossip, I expect.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose. Girls, you know,” said Gavin.

“Quite so.”

“Thank you,” said Carstairs, and he meant it, because it provided him with the perfect opportunity to escape the room. “With your permission, I’ll go speak to her about it.”

“Yes, yes, as you please,” said Morris.

Gavin just grunted and waved his glass, and as Edward was leaving the room, he saw the man reaching once more for the decanter.

Edward closed the study door behind himself. No matter how sick he felt at his recent discovery, he needed to set his anger aside. He needed to be able to see the larger picture clearly. What was that massive knot for? How did it relate to the damage inflicted on the Hartwells? With infinite care, Carstairs opened his mind again. Now that he knew the knot was there, he could sense it
easily. He turned his vision entirely inward, and cautiously moved forward, letting his inner senses lead him toward the place the knot was centered. He tried to be alert for traps or wardings. But nothing in the entire place seemed to hold any magic except that huge shining knot.

Edward blundered against a window, and a door. His fingers and face turned again and again toward the sun. If any of the numerous Hartwells noticed his clumsy progress down their hall and into the sitting room, they said nothing. His hand found the latch on the French door and pushed it open. The scents of flowers and greenery touched him.

The garden. The knot was in the garden. Knowing that much, Edward was able to relax his mind and use his outer senses again. He’d walked among these ruthlessly trimmed and regulated beds briefly with Verity, and sensed nothing. But for a magical construct, the knot was not only huge; it was unusually tight and concentrated. It would be difficult for such a thing to stand alone. It needed something in the real world to give it form. Edward turned away from the flower beds where he’d walked with Verity, toward the center of the garden.

There, Carstairs found the pied-à-terre maze. He stared. This was an artifact from a previous era, an ankle-high hedge maze of the sort created for those who had wanted to mimic the glories of Versailles and Kensington House. His gaze roamed the plants. Rosemary. Rue. Yarrow. All the neat borders for the labyrinth’s paths were plants known to be aids and symbols of magic. They strengthened and anchored the knot, even as the complex paths helped it hold its shape. Oh, this labyrinth was a beautiful and terrible thing, and it had been very carefully planned.

Footsteps rustled the grass behind him. Carstairs ducked
around the nearest grouping of topiary and flattened himself on the grass.

“What are we doing out here?”

Alicia.
Carstairs lifted his head just high enough to see between the hedge stems. Hester Hartwell led Alicia and Verity around the corner of the house toward the labyrinth, with Eugenia following directly behind, as if to prevent escape.

“Really, Aunt Hester.” Verity halted in her tracks. “This is too much! Either tell us what is happening, or I am not going a step farther!” She plopped herself down on a stone bench and folded her arms defiantly.

But Hester just reached out and pinched Verity’s chin between her fingers. “You will be quiet, girl.”

Carstairs felt Hester snatch a bit of magic from the waiting Eugenia and toss it like a net over Verity. It was a swift and practiced attack. All expression drained from Verity’s face. Her form went board stiff, and she stared straight in front of her, seeing nothing.

“What have you done to her?” cried Alicia.

“Don’t be foolish,” snapped Hester. “You know what I have done.”

Carstairs felt Alicia struggle against fear. He longed to reach out to her, but he did not dare. Eugenia Hartwell was on high alert. To use his power now would be to betray his presence.

“You’re a Sorceress,” said Alicia, and Carstairs knew with those words she was seeing the world in an entirely new light.

“As was your mother.” Hester spoke the last two words like a curse. “As are you.”

“But why? Why did you bind me like that? Why not just tell me what I am?”

“Yes, why? Cruel, cruel Aunt Hester to treat her little great-niece so!” The sneering mockery in the old woman’s voice grated in Carstairs’s ears. “And of course you deserve an answer. That’s why I’ve brought you here.”

“I don’t understand.” In her bewilderment, Alicia looked to Eugenia, but Eugenia just folded her hands and pressed her mouth into a thin line.

“You will shortly.” Hester nodded toward the labyrinth. “Start walking.”

“What?”

“Walk to the center of the labyrinth. You’ll find your answer there. In fact, you’ve flaunted yourself brazenly enough, I expect it’s already waiting for you.”

“I don’t…”

“Do as you are told!”

Carstairs expected her to refuse, but Alicia squared her shoulders in a gesture he was coming to know well, and stepped onto the labyrinth. Edward felt the knot of magic loosen a single strand.

“Alicia!” He launched himself out into the open. “No!”

But he was too late. Alicia was gone.

“W
here is she?” Carstairs swung around to face the two ancient dames. “Where have you sent her?”

“I sent her nowhere. You must have seen. She started down the path of her own choice.” The small smile of satisfaction on Hester Hartwell’s face was as horrifying as anything Carstairs had seen since he walked into Hartwell House. “If she did not think to ask where it led, that is no fault of mine.”

Edward felt his mind go cold and clear. This was the enemy, as much as any foe he’d met on the battlefield or any Fae he’d faced in the twilight. More, even, for she threatened Alicia, and his entire being raged at this thought. But discipline held.

“I will not play any games with you, Hester Hartwell. Tell me where Alicia is.”

“Or what? I know your kind.” Triumph glittered in her pale brown eyes. “Your own weakness prevents you from threatening me. You may abandon whole families to their fate if you cannot
see them, but face-to-face your precious gentleman’s honor will not permit you to harm a woman.”

“And I know your kind.” Carstairs stalked up to her, putting himself directly between the women and the labyrinth. “You are a tyrant and a bully. You maim children and terrify fools to suit your twisted ends. But I will tear down your house, brick by brick, if I must to help Alicia, and you will not stand in my way.”

Hester snatched up the power from her sister and lashed out with it, but Edward was ready for her. He opened himself wide, wide enough so that the blade of Hester’s power slid straight through him. The magic Eugenia drew up from the soil and down from the sunlight ran straight back into the waiting earth.

Hester was strong, but she was untrained and inexperienced. He guessed she’d been taught only what she needed to rule and hide her family. She had no comprehension how much someone raised to full knowledge of their own power could do.

“Hester.” Eugenia’s voice was strained. Hester ignored her. The blood drained from Eugenia’s cheeks and perspiration sprang out on her forehead. Hester steeled herself, drawing yet more power from her sister. What Hester had thought would be a severe blow was the lightest brush against his spirit. Carstairs could stand here all day if need be. She pressed harder, and Carstairs felt her magic twisting within him, seeking a way to cut into his being. But it was as futile as trying to break an open window. Her blows found only emptiness.

Eugenia began to tremble with effort. At last, she cried out and crumpled to her knees. The flow of power snapped and Hester staggered backward, staring up at Carstairs. She was afraid of him now, and he smiled grimly to see it.

“Now, Hester Hartwell.” He filled his voice with soft menace. “Where is Alicia?”

Hester’s gaze darted sideways. Eugenia was wheezing badly and her face had gone gray. She clutched at her sister, seeking some support, but Hester’s face only hardened into an expression of contempt.

“She has gone to her White Knight,” snapped Hester, even as she backed away from him. “You may apply to him for her release. If you can.”

Hester Hartwell hiked up her skirts, and fled, abandoning her sister and her niece as she retreated to the house.

Carstairs looked dispassionately down at Eugenia, as she staggered to her feet. She was a party to this evil. It was she who supplied the power that made the spells possible. Hating himself for doing so, Carstairs forced that understanding aside.

“Miss Hartwell, you do not have to follow her. I can offer you sanctuary and a wholesome use for your abilities.”

Eugenia’s hesitation told him she was tempted. But it lasted no more than a handful of heartbeats.

“It is too late for us,” she whispered. “We have done too much evil. Take Verity. Save Alicia if you can. Hester has no ambition outside the family, you may safely leave her to her own fate.”

With those words, Eugenia hobbled away after her sister. Carstairs started after her, but stopped. At this moment, she was too weak to provide Hester with power, but that wouldn’t last. If he was to work without interference, he must do it now. Every moment took Alicia closer to the White Knight.

Carstairs hurried to Verity’s side. The incurious Hartwells would not think to come out and wonder what he was doing in their garden, kneeling at the motionless girl’s side. He touched
the magic Eugenia had laid over her. It had the feel of a blanket, and did nothing more sinister than cast Verity into a light sleep. It would wear off soon, leaving her dazed, but unharmed.

Assured the girl would be all right, Carstairs faced the labyrinth. His heart plummeted within him, for now he knew the purpose of the magical knot he’d sensed. This was a locked gate to the Twilight Realms—the native home of the Fae. He did not possess permission to pass through it, so for him, it was as solid a barrier to his magic as any barred door would be to his physical body.