Wrede, Patricia C - Mairelon 02 (23 page)

           
"I
am all attention," Mairelon said. His tone was polite, but the tension in
the set of his shoulders had returned.

           
The
duchesse sighed. "It was twenty-six . . . no, twenty-seven years ago.
Things had been growing more and more difficult in
France
,
and it was plain to all of us that some sort of upheaval was soon to come. And
it was likewise clear that the nobility and the wizards would have the worst of
it. And since the seven of us were all wizards and all French
aristocrats--"

           
"Except
for Monsieur Karolyi," the prince put in. "He is Hungarian."

           
"
Very
Hungarian," the duchesse agreed with a smile. "He is, however, a
wizard and a dear friend of the Vicomte de Bragelonne, and as such, we expected
that he would fare no better than the rest of us. So the seven of us came
together and placed our most precious possessions in a vault--actually, it was
a very large room in Marie's cellar. Well, it had to be, with all the
books."

           
"Books?"
Mairelon said with interest.

           
The
duchesse nodded. "Marie stored almost her entire magical library, as well
as her silver and most of her jewels, and Eustacie had at least as many, and
Henri and Jeannette, also. And there was my library, too. We were days hauling
it all down. Laszlo put in only those things he had with him in
France
,
of course, which was not quite so much. When we finished, the seven of us
worked a spell to seal the room completely. It was a very good job, I think. The
sans-culottes
could have burned the house overhead, and the fire would
have stopped at the ceiling boards. Not so much as a speck of ash would
penetrate."

           
"That
sounds . . . thorough."

           
"Marie
and I were worried about mice getting at the books," the duchesse said
placidly. "When one stores such things in a cellar, and there are no cats
about, it is a reasonable concern."

           
"So
the treasure vault is real," Mairelon said thoughtfully. "And the
seven
livres de memoire
are the key?"

           
The
duchesse shook her head. "But no! That would have been folly. We did not
know, of course, that poor Henri's ship would go down so soon after we left
France
,
but with the times so unsettled we could not be sure that all seven of us would
be able to return to open the vault, or even send a key with someone else.
And to make the key a book, which is so vulnerable to fire and damp
. . . no.
That is why I said this Lord Starnes's story was quite
absurd."

           
"Then
how
did
you reopen the vault?"

           
"The
key is quite a simple spell, very easy to remember," the duchesse replied.
"I don't believe any of us even wrote it down in our
livres de memoire.
But we never went back to reopen the vault. The Terror . . . was worse than we
expected anything to be, and lasted longer, and after that came Bonaparte. By
the time he relented somewhat toward wizards, we had all made our lives
elsewhere, and we did not feel the risk was worth it." She smiled
slightly. "As long as we left everything there, you see, it was quite
safe, but it would be easy enough to confiscate it once the spell had been
removed. And transporting all those things out of
France
without attracting attention. . . ." She shook her head.

           
"You
mean it's all
still there
?" Kim said.
"The
silver and the jewels and everything?"

           
"It
is the books I regret most," the duchesse said.

           
"My
aunt, also," said Prince Durmontov, nodding.

           
Kim
blinked at them both in disbelief and shook her head. She saw the corners of
Mairelon's mouth twitch in amusement.
Toffs!
she
thought.
I'll never understand them.

           
"I'm
surprised Madame de Cambriol's husband didn't return, even if none of the rest
of you did," Mairelon said. "From what we know, he had a thin time
after she died."

           
"He
considered it," the duchesse said. "But he was not himself a wizard;
one of us would have had to accompany him to cast the spell to open the vault.
He would not ask us to take the risk. Besides, he was always quite certain that
his next hand of cards or the next horse race would render the trip
unnecessary, and his luck did indeed run well now and then."

           
"Gamesters
often feel so," Mairelon said. "Then as far as you know, the vault is
untouched?"

           
The
duchesse nodded. "That is why Louis and Eustacie have returned to
France
:
to open the vault and retrieve our belongings at last. I do not know what we
shall do with Henri's and Marie's portions. They have no living relatives I
know of."

           
Mairelon
raised a hand to rub his temples. "So we might just as well have given
Lord Starnes the de Cambriol book and wished him
godspeed
that first night," he said bitterly. "He and Mannering are chasing a
will-o'-the-wisp; even if they get hold of all seven books, they won't be able
to open the vault in
France
,
and even if they could, they'll find it empty by the time they get there. And
none of the rest of this would have happened."

           
"
If
the treasure is all they want," Kim said.

           
Mairelon
looked at her.

           
"I
never knew Mannering much," Kim went on, "but people said he was a
fly cove and right knowing. And anyone can see that that Lord Starnes is as cork-brained
as they come, even when he's not bosky.
I
wouldn't tell Starnes anything
important, and I'm nothing like as downy as Mannering."

           
"True."
Mairelon's expression brightened briefly, then he shook his head and said in a
tired voice, "But in that case, we're no further along than we were
before."

           
The
duchesse made a hesitant gesture. "There is one more thing, of a sort. I
would not have thought of it, only you said that it was Henri's
livre de
memoire
these people
have,
and Henri--" She
smiled reminiscently and shook her head. "Henri d'Armand was a most
unusual person. Things that came easily to the rest of us were most difficult
for him, and things most persons find greatly difficult were for him very
simple. He was in many ways a brilliant wizard, but he never truly believed
that."

           
"I
am afraid I don't understand," Mairelon said.

           
"I
explain very badly," the duchesse told him. She thought for a moment.
"A
livre de memoire
is for writing down things that one is most
likely to forget. For most of us, that is the unusual--the word that must be
changed for a spell to work
so
and not
so
, the one corner of a
diagram that must be circled instead of crossed, the ingredient one always
forgets. For Henri, it was otherwise."

           
"But
what else--" Prince Durmontov began,
then
stopped, frowning.

           
"Henri
remembered changes easily enough," the duchesse said, nodding. "It
was the original spell itself he sometimes had difficulty in recalling. So his
livre
de memoire
was full of spells, like a true grimoire, except that most of
them did not work correctly because he had not yet worked out the necessary
changes. We used to laugh with him about it."

           
"So
d'Armand's
livre de memoire
looks useful, but isn't quite,"
Mairelon said thoughtfully. "Do you think that Mannering is after the
other books in order to correct the spells in the one he's got?"

           
"That
would be of little use," the prince said. "Without knowing the
wizards, he could not know which spells the bits and pieces in the other
livres
de memoire
refer to."

           
"Bits and pieces."
Mairelon's eyes widened.
"All his spells are bits and pieces, strung together. . . ."

           
"This
is all very possible," the duchesse said. "But it is still not quite
what I wished to say." She hesitated, then went on slowly, "Your
description of this . . . this trap, Monsieur Merrill, sounds familiar--very
like something that happened once by accident when the seven of us were
constructing a new spell. If you do not object, I would like to examine the
remnant that you say still affects you. I think perhaps, if I am right, I may
be able to offer some suggestions."

           
"I
am at your disposal, Your Grace," Mairelon said instantly. "So long
as you are quite certain your examination will not expose you to the same . . .
misfortune."

           
"If
it is as I suspect, I can assure you it will not." The duchesse rose and
nodded to Kim and the prince. "I trust you will excuse us. My workroom is
not large enough for so many. I do not expect that we will be long. Monsieur
Merrill?
This way."

           
Kim could
not help fidgeting in Mairelon's absence, but he was not gone long. In less
than half an hour, he and the duchesse returned. The duchesse looked grave;
Mairelon seemed in a state of suppressed excitement. "I will let you know
as soon as I am certain," the duchesse said to Mairelon. "I cannot
promise anything yet, you understand, but the basis is plainly Henri's spell
for sharing
la puissance.
I do not see how this wizard has--But it may
be clearer after I check some of my reference books."

           
"I
sincerely hope so, Your Grace," Mairelon said.

           
"You
understand the risk?"

           
Mairelon's
jaw tightened.
"Thoroughly.
I will . . . consider
the matter carefully."

           
Kim gave
him an inquiring look, but neither he nor the duchesse seemed inclined to
explain.

           
They took
their leave soon after. Mairelon spent the journey back to
London
in a brown study. Prince Durmontov, after one or two unsuccessful attempts to
rouse him, beguiled the time by telling Kim about his family in
Russia
.
It was very interesting, and she was almost sorry when they let him off at his
new lodgings.

           
"Prince
Durmontov," Mairelon said as the prince climbed out of the coach.
"From what the Duchesse Delagardie has said, we may need more than one
wizard to . . . remedy the current situation. As you are already somewhat
involved--"

           
"You
may depend on me," the prince replied.

           
Mairelon
relapsed into reverie as soon as the coach pulled away, and remained so until
they reached
Grosvenor Square
.
There he roused himself to send Hunch off with messages for Lord Kerring, Lord
Shore-ham, and Renee D'Auber. Kim knew better than to insist on touchy
explanations in front of the grooms and footmen, but by the time they entered
the house, she was bursting with impatience.

           
"Is
my mother in?" Mairelon demanded of the footman. "Well, when she
arrives, tell her I would like to speak with her. I'll be in the library."

           
"Mairelon,"
Kim said as they climbed the stairs, "what did that duchesse tell you? And
what did she mean about risks?"

           
"Hmm?
Oh, I thought that she'd made that clear." Mairelon
turned in at the library door and began scanning the shelves.

           
Kim
followed him in and shut the door behind them. "She maybe made it clear to
you, but I wasn't there," she said. "What did she say?"

           
"The
magic-draining enchantment does seem to be based on an early version of a spell
the duchesse is familiar with," Mairelon said without looking at Kim.
"
Les Griffonais
invented it for their own use, years ago.
Unfortunately, that particular spell was flawed to begin with, and the version
that's affecting me has some unusual variations."

           
"The
duchesse can still get rid of it though, can't she?"

           
"Possibly.
She suggested casting the spell afresh,
properly, and then disassembling it. The odds are good that doing so would take
this other enchantment with it." He frowned suddenly and turned. "I
have covered that with you, haven't I?"

           
"It
was in that first book you gave me," Kim said.
"The
one with all the Greek."

           
"And?"

           
This
is
not
the time I'd pick for lessons.
But she could see that
Mairelon wouldn't tell her any more until she answered. She thought for a
moment, trying to remember what the book had said. "The easiest way to
correct a flawed spell is to cast it a second time and do it right. The
structure of the new spell is stronger, and . . . and it sort of takes over the
one with the mistake in it."

           
Mairelon
smiled suddenly. "Not quite the way Cornelius phrased it, but correct in
its essentials. D'Armand's spell was meant to be cast by himself and his six
friends, as a way of sharing their magical abilities during major projects.
They used it only for short periods; keeping it going for more than a few days
was, er, uncomfortable for everyone, and they suspected that long-term
maintenance would have . . . unpleasant consequences."

           
Ma
Yanger
, Kim thought. "Does that mean that whoever is keeping this
spell on you is uncomfortable?"

           
"I
devoutly hope so," Mairelon said. "But according to the duchesse, the
early versions of the spell were unstable--they fell apart after a few minutes,
or hours at most. Our mystery wizard seems to have found some way of
stabilizing the spell without correcting any of the other fundamental
flaws." He frowned again. "He also seems to have altered the spell a
bit."

           
"Altered
it?" Kim said. "Why would he change the spell and not fix any of
it?"

           
Mairelon
shrugged. "The flaws have to do with the way magical power is shared among
the seven participants. Our mystery wizard has found a way to use it to strip
away power, rather than share it. Possibly he didn't think it necessary to fix
the parts he didn't need. But because of the changes he made, we can't be
perfectly certain that recasting the spell will work the way it's supposed
to."

           
"Is
that what the duchesse meant when she talked about risks?" Kim said,
frowning.

           
"Partly."
Mairelon went back to scanning the
shelves; after a moment, he pulled out a thick brown book and carried it to the
library table.

           
"What's
the other part?" Kim
said,
her stomach knotting.
Mairelon only got like this when he was about to do something dangerously
goose-witted--and knew it.

           
"Other part of what?"
Mairelon said.

           
"The risk."

           
Mairelon
looked at her,
then
looked away. "There's a
distinct possibility that if this doesn't work, I'll lose my magical abilities
permanently. You don't have to be concerned about your training," he added
hastily. "Kerring will be happy to take you on, if. . . . But it's not
likely to be necessary."

           
"The
training ain't what I'm nattered about!"

           
"Isn't
what you're upset about," Mairelon corrected, then added in a low voice.
"I appreciate your concern."

           
It
ain't just concern!
"Mairelon . . ." Kim hesitated. "Is it
worth it?"

           
"It
will settle matters, one way or another. And the risk isn't great." But
his eyes did not meet hers, and she knew he was not as certain as he pretended.
She could also see that he had made up his mind, and, having done so, was not
about to change it.

           
"Of
all the buffle-headed things to say!" she said angrily. "Next you'll
be telling me that gallivanting around
France
with the whole army after you wasn't dangerous. Have a little sense!"

           
Mairelon
looked at her and smiled crookedly. "Why should I start now?"

           
The
library door opened and Lady Wendall entered. "You wished to see me,
Richard? Good
heavens,
look at the pair of you! I can
see you have a great deal to tell me."

           
"More
than you realize," Mairelon said. "We may have found a way of
removing this antimagic spell or whatever it is. It'll take six wizards besides
me; I trust you'll be one of them?"

           
"Of course, dear.
Who are the others?"

           
"Kerring,
Shoreham, and Renee, if they agree; Prince Durmontov already has, and the
Duchesse Delagardie will be directing the spellcasting. We'll need to clear out
the ballroom; the library isn't large enough for the floor diagrams."

           
"Very
well," Lady Wendall said, stripping off her gloves. "But you appear
to be leaving out a good deal, and you
did
promise to tell me all about
it when you returned."

           
"Did
I?" Mairelon said. "Well, I suppose it is only fair."

           
As Lady
Wendall and Mairelon settled in to talk, Kim stole quietly out of the library,
her emotions in turmoil. Mairelon's choices for the other six wizards to cast
the spell that would--they hoped--return his magic to him were logical ones;
all six were either trusted friends, like Kerring and Shoreham, or wizards
already involved in the matter, like the duchesse and Prince Durmontov, or
both. But though she knew it made no sense for him to include a mere apprentice
in the spellworking, she could not help feeling hurt and left out because there
was no place for her.

           
She did
not have much time to indulge in hurt feelings; less than half an hour later,
Lord Franton arrived and requested the favor of a private word with her. Kim
swallowed hard when the message was brought to her; in the excitement of the
morning, she had forgotten--or allowed herself to forget--that she could expect
a visit from him.
Well, at least I'll get it over with.

           
Lord
Franton was waiting for her in the drawing room. He looked up and smiled as she
entered. Kim swallowed again, and he must have seen something in her
expression, for his smile became uncertain at the edges. "Miss
Merrill--"

           
"Mairelon
told me--I mean, I--" Kim's face grew warm and she stuttered to a stop,
unable to think of a way to phrase what she wanted to say. She should have just
let him speak, instead of trying to refuse him before he'd even begun.

           
The
marquis looked at her. His eyebrows flew up and his expression stiffened
slightly. "Am I to understand that you are aware of my intentions, but are
not willing to entertain my offer?"

           
"That's
it," Kim said with relief.

           
There was
a pause. "May I inquire as to the reason?"

           
Kim
hesitated, searching for a way of expressing her difficulties that would be
neither insulting nor wounding. "We'd both end up being miserable. I'm no
wife for a
gentry
cove."

           
"Is
it your background, then?" Lord Franton smiled and shook his head.
"That need not worry you. You're a wizard now; what you were before does
not matter to me."

           
"Yes,
it does," Kim said softly. "Because part of the time you're sorry
about it, and part of the time you think it makes me interesting, and part of
the time you ignore it. But you never
forget
it." Mairelon was the
only toff who truly didn't care that she'd been a street thief . . . but she'd
best not think of him just now.

           
"I
do not--" Lord Franton cut off his automatic denial before it was
well-launched. He considered for a moment, his lips pressed tightly together,
then
looked at Kim once more. "I think I see what you
are getting at," he said with reluctance.

           
"You
never really forget it," Kim repeated. "And I don't think you ever
would."

           
"I
could try," he offered tentatively. "That is, if your sentiments are
such that you would reconsider . . ."

           
Kim could
only shake her head wordlessly.

           
"I
see," Lord Franton said after a moment. "I . . . honor your
frankness, and I wish you well. Give you good day."

           
He bowed
and left. Kim stood staring at the door for a long time afterward, wondering
why she did not feel more relieved and hoping she had not just made the biggest
mistake of her life.

           
By
evening, preparations for the spell to disenchant Mairelon were well underway
and Kim felt more excluded than ever. A message from the duchesse arrived late
in the day, and was apparently very promising, for it set off another round of
notes and letters to the proposed participants. Mairelon spent the remainder of
the evening shut up with his books, and the following morning conferring with
his mother; then Renee D'Auber and Prince Durmontov arrived, and the four of
them went into the ballroom to prepare for the casting ritual.