A Distant Magic (25 page)

He ignored her tug. "This is like corsairs taking slaves for the
galleys."

"Not quite as bad. Pressed men can get a bounty if they declare themselves as volunteers, and they get paid for their service. If they stay in the navy long enough, they'll even get a pension. But it's still being taken by force." She frowned.
"I've heard that sometimes a man will set the press-gang on another man he
dislikes. Or a father who doesn't approve of his daughter's sweetheart will
bribe the press to take the lad away."

"None of
these
men will be taken away," Nikolai said grimly. He waded into the mob, heading straight to the nearest member of the press-gang. He threw a solid punch at the man, with a dash of the magic he'd used to knock Jean unconscious when they met.

He laid the ganger flat on the ground. Though less satisfying than beating David Lisle to a bloody pulp, Nikolai still enjoyed bruising his fists and punishing men who were little better than slavers.

He knocked down only three of the press-gang since the other civilians had taken care of the rest, but that was enough to relieve his simmering anger. As he stood panting over his last victim, a young man with a bruised cheek said,
"Well done, sir!" He offered his hand. "The bluidy bastards had taken me from my
wedding!"

As Nikolai shook the proffered hand, a pretty young woman with flowers in her hair came to the young man's side.
"My thanks to you and the others," she said softly. "Losing my darling to the
press would have been a poor start to our marriage."

Nikolai bowed to her. "I am new to London, and I find myself most
impressed with her liberty-loving citizens. My best wishes to you on your
marriage."

As the young couple left, Jean arrived, picking her way daintily among the fallen.
"I trust you feel better now, my dear?" Her eyes were mischievous.

"Indeed, I do." He took her arm and continued along the street, still heading west.
"Is it common for locals to fight with the press-gangs?"

"I believe so. We didn't see this in rural Scotland, but citizens in port cities must always be alert to the possibility of being pressed. When the navy is particularly hungry for men, the gangs will even go into the countryside." She shivered.
"Until today, I hadn't thought about how truly wicked impressment is. You're
right. It's slavery."

He stopped dead in the street as an insight struck. "This may be
why opinions in Britain can be swayed to abolition! People here live with the
fear of being taken by violence and forced into slave labor. Surely that will
make them more sympathetic to the plight of slaves everywhere?"

Jean caught her breath. "You may be right. Britain's power comes from her navy, and that means many seamen must serve, willing or not." She smiled up at him.
"Perhaps we have found another piece of the puzzle."

His eyes narrowed as he tried to define what he sensed. "There are
strange energies in this area. Some dark, some light. I feel that a battle has
been fought that is beyond the men and women who struggled here today. It's like
a pressure in my mind. A riot. Can you feel that?"

"Cities are notoriously intense," Jean said. "Guardians usually
feel tired the first few days after arriving in a city, and London is the most
tiring one of all. Since you are newly initiated, perhaps you're more aware of
mass energies than in the past."

"Perhaps." He mentally explored the clashing energies again. "But
my intuition says that what I feel is something more specific to our mission."

"In that case, we both need to pay attention." She smiled. "But
for today, let us just be visitors enjoying one of Europe's great cities."

Chapter
TWENTY-SEVEN

T
o Jean's relief, they were able to find a pair of adjoining rooms in a respectable inn. She wasn't ready to share a room with her partner and his rather overpowering masculinity. He seemed equally relieved to have some distance between them.

Still tired from the power she'd expended on Jonathan Strong, she lay down for a nap in midafternoon and woke up the next morning. It was embarrassing to have slept more than the clock around, but she felt strong and refreshed.

After washing up and dressing, she tapped on the connecting door to Nikolai's room. There was no answer. Wondering if he was sleeping or perhaps had already risen and gone out, she quietly opened the door—and found him sitting on the bed clad only in boots and breeches. He was staring intently at his hands as he poured light back and forth from one palm to the other.

Shirtless, he was…quite magnificent. His shoulders were broad and a hard life had produced hard muscles. She was so entranced by his half-naked body that it took her a moment to notice the small leather pouch he wore around his neck.

As she entered, he looked up, startled. The light between his hands winked out as sensual tension flared like sparks in tinder. They stared at each other, on the brink of forgetting the compelling reasons for staying apart.

Jean took a step toward him, yearning to run her hands over his beautiful chest. At her movement, Nikolai chopped off his energy with unnerving abruptness, then grabbed the shirt that lay beside him on the bed.
"I thought it was customary to knock," he said drily as he yanked the garment over his head.

Jean drew an unsteady breath and forced desire back into the box where she'd locked it away.
"I did knock. You didn't hear."

When his face merged from the white linen, he said, "I was
concentrating too hard to hear you. Light and fire are fascinating."

"And you're getting very good with them." She strolled over to the window, giving him privacy to finish dressing while removing temptation from her sight. Realizing that her hands were clenched into fists, she forced herself to relax. They were adults. They could control desire. Then she realized that his image was reflected in the window glass. She shut her eyes against the sight. Control had its limits.
"Is that a medicine pouch around your neck?"

"Adia made it," he said in an unforthcoming voice.

"African magic is a great deal more fun than the Guardian sort," she said wistfully.
"We're so mental. You get drums and feathers and other interesting objects."

That startled a laugh from him. "I hadn't thought of that, but
you're right."

Feeling the energy between them return to normal, she turned to see that he'd finished dressing. After debating whether to refer to what had happened or stay silent, she said,
"Perhaps next time we should not get adjoining rooms."

"That might be easier." His mouth quirked into a smile. "But
easier isn't always better. I think I like being driven mad by you now and
then."

She thought of the delicious shock of finding him half dressed. "I
take your point, but I don't know if my self-control is up to such challenges."

"Mine barely was this time," he admitted. "After we break our
fast, do you have a particular goal for the day?"

"I want to visit a bookshop. We need to find some newspapers so we can learn what is happening in the world." She shook her head.
"I still have trouble believing that American colonists have defeated the
British Empire. I wonder if there is any hint of that in current newspapers?"

"That war is still years in the future, but the causes must be building now." He reached for his tricorn hat.
"After we inform ourselves, what then? I want to walk and explore the city, but
that will happen no matter where we go."

"I'd like to try to find Kofi, the African priest Adia told me
about."

His brows arched. "I thought the plan was to be as quiet as
possible."

"In general, yes, but I think we should find Kofi. We might need
his help to trigger the next spell bead."

"Given how much power it took to come here, you're probably right," Nikolai agreed.
"The two of us might not be strong enough to do it without aid."

"Besides needing magical assistance, we are likely to be in London
more than once since it's the political heart of Britain. We might need allies
and a base of operations, and who better than the African community?"

"And they can tell us more about what's going on now. Do you have
detailed directions for finding Kofi?"

"Fairly so, though Adia isn't sure of his exact location at this early date." Jean smiled ruefully.
"Adia said that there's nothing like collecting information to make one realize
one's own ignorance. She and her friends did their best to write down anything
about the abolition movement that might be useful, but there is much I don't
know."

"I'd like to read her notes and historical summaries," he said as he ushered her toward the door.

"Adia said I shouldn't allow anyone to read the notes, even you. Knowledge of the future might be dangerous. The fewer people who know, the better." Jean shivered.
"I feel as if we're playing with fire, and can't even see the flames. The more
we limit our effect on this time, the better."

"I take your point, but what if something happens to you?"

"You can read the notes then," she said cheerfully. "But they'll
give you a headache as you think about the time travel. Are we changing what
will happen? Or already part of the flow of events? Has it always been
foreordained that we attempt this mission and help the abolition movement? Or is
it ordained that we will fail?"

"No wonder your head aches." He took hold of the doorknob.
"Nonetheless, I should like to see what she says about abolition."

"Alas, you'll have to wait." Not that she blamed him for wanting to know. Even secondhand knowledge was better than none.

It took two days of searching, plus Nikolai's skill as a finder, to locate Kofi. The African community was suspicious of white people, and Nikolai didn't look African enough to allay fears.

But eventually they found Kofi, who owned a small cooper's shop. They had been referred here by another African after reassurances that they meant Kofi no harm.
"That's him," Jean said quietly. "Look at the magic around him."

Nikolai invoked mage vision, which was getting easier. As Jean said, the tall, broad-shouldered man radiated power. He was assembling staves within a metal jig, his hands moving with startling speed. He stopped work and straightened as they approached, his expression wary. Parallel scars slashed across his cheeks.

"You are Kofi?" Nikolai asked.

The cooper's eyes glanced toward an axe that leaned against the wall next to him.
"Who wants to know?" he growled in a deep, rumbling voice.

"I am Jean Macrae, and this is Nicholas Gregory," Jean said peaceably.
"A friend said you can help us."

"Why would I?"

"She said to tell you that we are here because of Mattie."

Kofi sucked in his breath as if he'd been struck physically.
"In the back garden."

He led the way through the shop and into a long, narrow garden stacked with weathering wood. The piles were so high that the space between was like a small, private room. Kofi crossed his arms over his chest and waited for an explanation.

Jean exchanged a glance with Nikolai, silently suggesting that he tell their story. He nodded and began,
"We have come to you because we are working toward the abolition of slavery, and we were told you might be able to help." He took a deep breath.
"And we have come through time to do this."

Instead of scoffing, Kofi examined them both with sudden intensity. His gaze caught on Jean's beaded bracelet.
"You are witches using African time magic." His gaze moved to Nikolai. "You have
African blood and African magic. Tell me more."

They sat on piles of timber, surrounded by the scent of fresh-cut oak, and told the tale of Adia and their mission. Kofi listened with the alertness of a wildcat. When they were done, he said,
"What do you wish of me?"

"We need allies. Magical help and information," Nikolai said bluntly.

Jean added, "Adia told me that you will be living in London for many years, so you will be a good ally, if you're willing." She caught Kofi's gaze.
"Adia also said that you were the most powerful African priest in London."

Kofi dropped his gaze and stared at the ground. "Tell me about
Mattie."

"She was your wife," Jean said softly. "She died at a white man's
hands in the Virginia colony."

Kofi swallowed hard. "I strangled him with my bare hands, then
fled to Upper Canada. From there, I worked my way to England on a ship. I have
another wife now, and children. Few know of Mattie."

"That is why she was chosen as the key to your confidence," Jean said.
"You yourself suggested to Adia that Mattie be used to establish us with you."

Eyes narrowed, Kofi reached out and grasped Nikolai's hand. Energy blazed between them. Nikolai realized dizzily that he was being scoured, tested, judged. After the first shock, he found that he could see into Kofi as well as vice versa. The man had led a turbulent life. He had survived by always being ready to fight, and by having a gift of magic that he only gradually came to understand.

After working his way to England, he found work at this small cooperage. When the owner died, Kofi had married the man's daughter and they ran the business together. There had been a few who objected to a black man marrying an Englishwoman, but most of the people in this neighborhood accepted it with a shrug. As his life became stable, Kofi had studied magic with the London elders. Powerful and determined, he would make a formidable ally.

"You will help us, then," Nikolai said, and it was not a question.

Kofi nodded before turning his gimlet gaze to Jean. "You will need
white allies also. You are English. Do you have friends you can call on?"

"I am Scottish, and yes, I do have friends and family in London. I shall have to think who I might ask." Her mouth quirked.
"Adia had the advantage of starting from the future, so she knew what had
happened and that you would be here now. Coming from the past, I look to the
future in ignorance."

"Use your instincts, girl. They will carry you."

"Is time magic something only Africans can do?" Nikolai asked.

"I don't know," Kofi said. "I have little experience of European magic. Even among Africans, time magic is very rare. One of the elders who initiated me said that Africa is the mother of mankind, with roots that go back to the beginning of time, and this is why only Africans can do time magic." Kofi shrugged.
"He may have been right. I do not have the gift for it myself, but some of the other elders have known priests who could move through time." He rose.
"Come. You must meet my wife if you are to use us for a touchstone through the
coming years."

Jane Andrews was a calm woman who had seen enough of her husband's magic, and hosted enough gatherings of the London elders, that she didn't even blink at the idea of travel through time. She merely said,
"If you need us, we're 'ere. When the young 'uns are old enough to be told,
they'll 'elp, too."

"We may need help soon to activate the next spell." Jean took Nikolai's arm.
"Thank you both. It's good to know we're not alone."

After they left the cooper's shop, Jean removed her hand from his arm. He firmly replaced it. He enjoyed the quiet magical buzz between them when they touched. He asked,
"Are you thinking of telling your brother of your presence and our mission?"

She shook her head. "He's not the right person, and not only
because he spends much of the year in Scotland. It would be too complicated to
involve him in our mission. We are too close. He might become too protective."

"Do you have another candidate in mind?"

"I'd love to talk to Lady Bethany Fox, but she might not even be alive now—she was old when I left England." Jean frowned.
"I'm thinking of Lord and Lady Falconer. Simon is almost like a brother to me. A
rather alarming brother because of his power, but I would trust him with
anything, including not talking to Duncan. He is an earl and has a good
political understanding. Simon and Meg are often in London, which could be
useful. Meg is also very powerful, and because she spent years enslaved, I'm
sure she and Simon would support our work."

"This countess was enslaved?" he asked, surprised.

"Not by corsairs or plantations owners, but a rogue mage," Jean explained.
"He kept her enthralled so he could use her power. Joined to his own magic, that
made him very dangerous. She wasn't a countess then, of course. Just a girl of
unusual potential. He enthralled several others for the same reason."

"Slavery is even more widespread than I realized." What Jean described was mind rape combined with slavery. The countess must be a very strong woman to have survived that.
"I look forward to meeting the Falconers." Seeing Jean's frown, he asked,
"Is there a reason you don't wish to?"

"I'm afraid of what I might find out, Nikolai. What if Simon or Meg has died? What if others I care about are gone? What if I'm told of my own death? I don't want to know!" Her fingers tightened on his arm like a vise.
"I hadn't realized how necessary ignorance is to carrying on with one's life.
I'm glad I'm not a seer. Seeing too much would make me mad, I think."

"Then we shall visit your earl and the first thing you shall say is that you don't want any knowledge of the fates of your intimates," he said.
"If he and his wife listen well, I presume they will honor that."

"They both listen very well." More relaxed, Jean glanced up at him.
"Now to find a bookstore and a coffee shop, for there we will learn the temper
of the times."

For several days after the ritual that sent Gregorio and Jean Macrae into the future, Adia did little but sleep, eat, then sleep more. She felt so drained that she wasn't sure if she'd ever do magic again. Even her dreams were empty.