03 The Mislaid Magician Read online

  He was persuaded at last when James mentioned that he, James, has sent for an expert on ley lines, a Mr. Skelly, who should arrive within a few weeks at most. (You remember that nice boy Theodore Daventer, whom we met on our wedding journey? He had a hand in arranging the matter.)

  Aunt Elizabeth was initially inclined to take umbrage at James's action, which she saw as a slur on her husband's abilities, but when she saw that Mr. Wrexton was pleased by James's foresight and quite looking forward to having a knowledgeable person with whom to exchange speculations, she accepted the matter with tolerable equanimity.

  This left us with the question of where to look while we await Mr. Skelly's arrival. We selected the Dancing Weans at Goosepool, that being closer and less likely to be under observation than Haliwar Tower. As the hour was still early and the day fine, we determined to set out at once—the four of us and the sheepdog. (James chose to accompany us, on the grounds of being unable to further his own investigations until some meeting he has arranged for on Monday.) I was not altogether certain about the advisability of bringing the sheepdog, as he had prevented me from entering the circle before; however, I did not think he would be able to stop all of us at once.

  When we arrived at the farm outside Goosepool, we had to leave the carriage and climb a stile into the field, then walk to the little hill where the stone circle was located.

  Fortunately, the farmer and his sheep had moved on, though they had left many traces behind, as sheep do.

  We cast the ley line detection spells and set off. As we picked our way across the close-cropped grass, the sheepdog became more and more agitated, running around us and plainly trying to herd us away from our course as if we were so many sheep.

  Finally, Mr. Wrexton paused and looked sternly at it. "Herr Schellen," he said, "I can see that you are disturbed and I can understand your reluctance to revisit a place that must of necessity bring back unpleasant memories. However, if we are to remove the enchantment that affects you, we must examine these unusual ley configurations."

  The sheepdog paused (standing between us and the stone circle) and whined.

  Suddenly, I remembered something. "Mr. Wrexton! Didn't you and Aunt Elizabeth say that the transformation spell is tied to more than one ley line? And three of them come together at that stone circle. Is there some test we could do to see if these are the leys that are affecting Herr Schellen? Because if they are—"

  "Then more may be ailing our friend here than bad memories," James finished. "What about it, Wrexton?"

  Mr. Wrexton looked thoughtful for a moment. "Yes, I believe that would be possible. Elizabeth, did you bring any comfrey?"

  Aunt Elizabeth dug in her reticule. "Yes, I have it. You're thinking of the Foxcroft inversion?"

  Mr. Wrexton nodded. "It will be simpler if we test each ley line individually," he murmured half to himself. Aunt Elizabeth handed him the comfrey. He frowned at it and said, "Yes, if we make a circle outside the stones... Cecy, wipe this on your palms. Now, all we need is—" He looked around and found the sheepdog, watching us alertly. At least, its bearing was alert; it is rather difficult to tell more than that with sheepdogs. "Herr Schellen, if you please?"

  The sheepdog cocked its head, then rose and walked over. Mr. Wrexton held out the comfrey. The dog sniffed it. Slowly, it nodded. Mr. Wrexton rubbed the comfrey over the dog's paws and on the back of its head, muttering in Latin the whole time.

  We began tramping in a wide circle around the hill. We had gone no more than two yards when we sensed the first of the three ley lines. It was, as the official maps indicated, a small one. Mr. Wrexton had the three of us—Aunt Elizabeth, me, and himself—link hands, while the sheepdog sat inside our small ring. Mr. Wrexton and Aunt Elizabeth chanted. My studies have been worth this much; I was able to understand a good deal of what they were saying, and it was plain that the invocation they were using required the participation of three persons. Nonetheless, I felt very nearly useless.

  I did not have long to mull over these sad thoughts, for Mr. Wrexton and Aunt Elizabeth finished abruptly. The sheepdog barked once, deep and short, and began to glow.

  "I take that as a positive indication," James said.

  "Yes," Mr. Wrexton said with satisfaction. "You were quite right. That's definitely one of the lines that's supporting the transformation spell." He waved a hand and the glow ceased. "Two to go."

  The sheepdog had the same reaction to the second ley line. When we reached the third, however, Mr. Wrexton frowned. "This cannot be right," he muttered, and pulled out the official ley map. "It's in the right place," he said after a moment, "but it's much stronger than it should be."

  Aunt Elizabeth looked over his shoulder. "The flow indicators are all wrong," she said.

  The sheepdog barked once, as if it agreed, then growled.

  "What does Mr. Morris's map show?" I asked.

  Mr. Wrexton put the official map away and took out the older version. "Hmm. You may have hit on something, Cecelia. He's marked this one twice as heavily as the other two—though that's still not as strong as it should be."

  "But if he was mapping ley lines according to their importance, the thickness of the line wouldn't have anything to do with how strong it really is," I pointed out.

  "Very true. That doesn't explain why the official maps are off," Mr. Wrexton said.

  "It is puzzling, to be sure, but the strength of the ley line shouldn't affect the Foxcroft inversion," Aunt Elizabeth said. "Let us finish one set of tests before we commence another."

  As we formed our little circle around the growling sheepdog, I heard a distant whistle and a rumbling noise.

  The rumbling grew steadily louder as Aunt Elizabeth and Mr. Wrexton chanted (to no one's particular surprise, the sheepdog glowed just as brightly as it had for the first two). "What is that noise?" Mr. Wrexton said.

  "The steam train," James said. "It should be here in another minute or two."

  "Perhaps we should move a little," I said. "The last time the train came by when I was sensing ley spells, it shifted the ley line, and I don't think I want to be standing right on top of one if it happens again."

  "An excellent notion," Mr. Wrexton said, and we all moved away from the ley line. The steam engine pounded past, trailing a dozen coal wagons and a plume of damp smoke like Mrs. Gordon's prized ostrich feathers. And as it reached the ley line, we all felt the ley catch and begin to stretch.

  "My word!" Mr. Wrexton said, and started forward. Just then, the engine surged forward and the ley line snapped back into place, vibrating like a bowstring that has just been released, or like one of the wires in Georgy's pianoforte when it has just been struck. Mr. Wrexton, Aunt Elizabeth, and I all jumped, and Mr. Wrexton lost his footing and sat down unexpectedly in the damp grass.

  "My word," he said again. "Cecy, I had no idea." He scrambled to his feet and in three strides was back at the ley line, muttering softly. After a moment, he looked back, his expression one of keen interest. "I cannot be certain without the proper measuring tools," he said, "but I believe this ley is very slightly stronger now than it was a moment ago. We must come back later and measure it properly."

  "The train makes ley lines stronger?" James said.

  "I would not go so far as that," Mr. Wrexton said. "It has certainly affected this ley line, and the unusual interaction seems the likeliest explanation for the difference between what we sense and what the official maps show. We must find some other leys that cross the railway line and see whether they show the same sort of influence."

  "Not today," Aunt Elizabeth said firmly. "We came to examine this junction"—she waved at the stone circle— "and we had better do so."

  The sheepdog growled loudly. Mr. Wrexton looked from it to Aunt Elizabeth. "That is an excellent notion, my dear," he said after a moment. "However, given the reaction of our friend and the undeniable fact that all three of the ley lines involved are tied to the transformation spell that affects him, I think a few additional precautions
are in order."

  The precaution Mr. Wrexton had in mind, it turned out, was chiefly that he should enter the stone circle alone, while Aunt Elizabeth and I remained outside. James heartily endorsed this proposal, of course, but he was sensible enough to point out that it provided no particular safeguard for Mr. Wrexton.

  So we spent the next half hour casting every ward and protective spell we could think of on Mr. Wrexton, even the ones that are seldom used because they last so short a time. "That will do," he said at last. "Any more, and I'll have so many enchantments interfering with my magic sense that I won't be able to feel anything more than James here."

  Aunt Elizabeth frowned slightly but nodded. We all walked nearly to the edge of the circle. The sheepdog was still growling softly, so James took hold of it. Then Mr. Wrexton went on into the circle, and a great many things happened very rapidly.

  There was, I thought, a flash of light as he crossed the ring of stones. Aunt Elizabeth agrees with me, but James says he did not see anything, so it may well have been some unexpected effect of the ley line detecting spells that let us see what James could not. At the same time, there was a surge of magical energy inside the stone circle. The sheepdog howled and leapt toward the circle, dragging James with it. And Mr. Wrexton gave an exclamation and began to twist horribly.

  Aunt Elizabeth cried out and tried to reach her husband. I grabbed her arm and pulled her back. James let go of the sheepdog and dove forward, knocking Mr. Wrexton out of the circle and himself further in.

  Mr. Wrexton fell backward and rolled away from the circle. I could sense the spell that he had triggered stretching after him, but the wards we had set left very little for it to cling to. It snapped back into the stone circle and subsided.

  Mr. Wrexton shook himself, then tensed and looked up. "Tarleton! Get out of there immediately!"

  "If you insist." James said from the middle of the stone circle. He stood up and brushed himself off, then walked over to join us. "What was all that about?"

  "That circle is a trap," Aunt Elizabeth said with considerable emphasis.

  "If it weren't for all those protective spells, and your quick thinking, Tarleton, I'd have joined the canine club," Mr. Wrexton said, nodding at the sheepdog. "What I don't understand is why you haven't. You're not immune to magic, after all."

  "No, but I've no ability of my own," James said. "Magic calls to magic; that was one of the first lessons in the theory classes. Something has to trigger that spell, and it can't be just crossing into the circle, or there surely would have been an unusual number of unexplained sheepdogs in the area by now, along with a selection of missing shepherds, sheep, and who knows what else."

  "It's a trap for magicians!" I said.

  "Very likely," Mr. Wrexton said. "We should be able to confirm that much with a few tests. From out here," he added when Aunt Elizabeth gave him a Look.

  And we did. As a result, it was quite late when we arrived back at Wardhill Cottage, but we had learned considerably more than we had expected. Not only do three ley lines meet at the stone circle, they join there, just as Mr. Morris's map describes and Mr. Wrexton's theory says they should. That stone circle, at least, acts to contain and stabilize the junction, and it seems very likely that the same is true elsewhere.

  Furthermore, someone has tapped into the power at the junction to create a trap that turns any trained wizard or magician—and only a trained wizard or magician—into a dog when they cross into the junction point (that is, the stone circle). Because three ley lines are concerned, Mr. Wrexton thinks it likely that Herr Schellen can only be disenchanted at the place where they meet—which is, of course, not possible, as any magician who crosses into the stone circle will instantly become a dog, just as Herr Schellen did.

  And not just magicians and wizards who enter the Dancing Weans. According to Mr. Wrexton, the transformation spell does not have the proper confines and boundary limitations, and as a result he thinks it highly probable that it has leaked out into the entire ley line network. This means that any magician in England who enters a stone circle is very likely to turn into a dog.

  As soon as we realized this, and remembered the request James made of Thomas, we realized we had to warn you. It took us some time to determine how, and by then it was far too late in the evening to try. We could, however, lay out the India ink and the little silver tray we needed for a scrying spell, and early this morning, Mr. Wrexton, Aunt Elizabeth, and I cast one. I had hoped that the children would decide to look in on us early, as well, but they did not, so we took turns watching the ink until Arthur and Eleanor finally cast their own spell to see what we were doing. With two wizards and a magician working together, it was not much trouble holding the spell so long, even over such a distance, especially since two of us (Aunt Elizabeth and I) are blood relatives of Arthur and Eleanor.

  As soon as I was certain Arthur was watching, I pointed at the note, which we had written out in very large black letters. I waited long enough to see his eyes widen; he nodded vigorously and there was much rushing about the nursery for paper and quills. And so I trust you know Thomas's danger now, and all is well.

  There remains the puzzle of Haliwar Tower. If the ley line under Haliwar is part of the network (which seems unquestionable, since it runs straight from the Dancing Weans to Haliwar), and if there is a stone circle actually built into the walls of the tower, then I, at least, ought to have turned into a dog the moment I set foot in the place. We are not yet certain why this did not happen; however, I have my suspicions. You may recall that I wrote you that Haliwar seemed to have a dampening effect on magic, most especially on ley lines (at least, while I was inside, I could not sense them, though I certainly ought to have been able to do so).

  I think, therefore, that there is some protective spell on the tower itself. If it is specifically a protection against the transformation spell, then the Webbs are not only wizards after all, but responsible for Herr Schellen's transformation and goodness knows what else. Mr. Wrexton says it is too early to reach such a conclusion. I think he is only trying to prevent me from confronting the Webbs prematurely, which I assure you, Kate, I will not do. Anyone who can manipulate ley lines and cast spells that affect all of England must be approached with great caution. For one thing, I do not intend to go anywhere near the Webbs until I am sure that I will not turn into a dog, or, at least, that Mr. Wrexton and Aunt Elizabeth know how to reverse any such spell immediately.

  Disenchanting Herr Schellen remains an interesting problem. I left Mr. Wrexton and Aunt Elizabeth discussing the possibility of creating a spell that could be performed by someone like James, who has no magical ability (such a pity—he is so good with theory. I have often thought that having no magic must be rather like being tone deaf; one can learn all the theory one likes, but when it comes to actually performing, one ends up sounding like Aunt Charlotte). A person without magical training would be perfectly safe within the stone circle, despite the ley lines and transformation spell, and so could perform the disenchantment. Despite Mr. Wrextons optimism, I cannot think it likely that someone of no magical ability whatever would be very good at casting a de-transformation spell, but it has occurred to me that an untrained magician might—

  Please forgive the blot. The most astonishing thing has happened. I was sitting here, at the writing table, composing my letter to you, with Herr Schellen—the sheepdog— lying by the hearth on the other side of the room. With no warning, the sheepdog sat up and howled. I turned sharply (that was when I blotted the page) just in time to see his shape blur and expand from that of a dog to that of a stocky, bearded, extremely scruffy-looking man.

  "Gott im Himmel!" the man said.

  "Good heavens!" I said. "Herr Schellen?" And then I shouted for James and Mr. Wrexton, and things became very busy.

  As near as we can tell, Herr Schellen has been entirely disenchanted, though he is still more than a little dazed by his return to humanity. Mr. Wrexton can find no traces of the transformation spel
l; not the smallest link remains. He is a bit disgruntled by this, as it means there is also no trace of whatever caused this abrupt change, and he had been quite, quite certain that the spell could only be unraveled by some complicated counterenchantments cast within the stone circle where the original enchantment took place. (I believe he is also a touch disappointed that he will not be called upon to invent the countercharm.)

  And so things seem to be looking up at last. I have every hope that within a day or two, when Herr Schellen has had time to rest and to recover his wits, we shall have a full explanation of many of the things that have been puzzling us. I fear, however, that I shall have to purchase a sheepdog for the children after all. It will not do to disappoint them when their scrying has come in so very useful after all, and really, what difference will one more dog make at Tangleford?

  Your hopeful,

  Cecy

  10 May 1828

  (Enchanted by T.S.)

  James and Cecy,

  Send Wrexton at once. I will write to him under separate cover, but add your urging to mine, I beg you.

  Kate seems unhurt, so far as I can ascertain under the circumstances, but as she has been transformed into a healthy female foxhound, I cannot say she is unscathed.

  When the children received Cecy's efficient and unusual message, Kate was with me, recasting the protection spell on the bounds. Arthur rode out to warn us, leaving the others to trail after his pony on foot. As their omniscience did not extend so far as our precise location on the route, they very sensibly went for the point at which the boundary passes closest to the Tingle Stone and its circle.

  While they were waiting for us to arrive, Edward, as is his wont, climbed the nearest eminence. The first we saw of the children, as we rode toward them along the outside of the stone wall, was Edward waving cheerfully to us from atop the Tingle Stone.