A Distant Magic (35 page)

Encouraged, he kissed her ear as his hands came up to cup her breasts.
"You're probably too tired for this," he said, not wanting to be too demanding.

She laughed and turned in his arms so she could slide her arms around his neck.
"I work with energy all the time. Why is this the only activity that gives us
both more energy than when we started?"

"An interesting question." He lifted her and laid her on the bed.
"We can talk about it tomorrow."

Jean was right. Afterward, he had more energy than when he started.

It took over a month, but Jean and Nikolai were able to enhance the shield net by drawing on the energy of abolitionists across a good part of Britain. Though the new people had little power individually, together their support of abolition strengthened the shield net substantially.

Having visited Kofi and his family and the Falconers, it was now time to move on. They paid the bill at the inn and found a half-empty storeroom at the back of the building that would be a convenient departure point.

Jean pulled Adia's bracelet from her wrist and contemplated it.
"There is only one spell bead left. I've been hoping that it will take us home again—to 1753 and Santola. Is it possible that the work we've done so far is enough so that we can go home now? Or do you think that another critical point needs our attention?" She sighed.
"Or is slavery too huge and intractable for the ancestors' magic to make a
difference?"

"I don't know," Nikolai said quietly. "Since our first
visit twenty-six years ago, we have seen great change in the hearts and minds of
the British people. Just as Adia said, the mass of people are rising up and
saying 'Enough!'"

"At the beginning, you and I protected individuals," she said thoughtfully.
"Now we are protecting the spirit of the movement itself. Within a few years,
the movement and the desire for liberty may be so strong that we are not needed.
That would be my hope. That, and having the last bead take us back where we
began. But...it might not. It may take us further into the future and leave us
there."

"Can you bear it if we must live our lives out in a distant time?"

"I'll have no choice, will I?" She smiled wryly. "I will be
sorry not to see family and friends again, but thinking of the separations and
privations that Adia has endured puts my situation into perspective. I can learn
to prosper in a new time. And I won't be alone—the Guardians never abandon their
own."

"You are fortunate to have so many people you cherish." He almost managed to keep envy out of his voice, but not quite.

She looked up at him, thinking how far they had come since they met in the warehouse in Marseilles.
"What of you, Captain? When the great goal of your life, ending slavery, is
accomplished, what will you do?"

He shrugged. "I am still a sailor, and I can always find work on
the sea. I would want to visit Santola to find if the island still flourishes,
and if there is a place for me. If I'm even still remembered."

"You will be remembered." She noticed that neither of them spoke of their relationship. Would they separate and go their individual ways? Or would the bonding that had made them an effective antislavery tool remain when their task was done?

Impossible to say. She got to her feet and positioned the last bead in the center of her palm. When it was gone, the bracelet would be a rather plain collection of small beads strung too loosely for the length of its cord.
"Shall we take the final step and see where it leads us?"

"Let us hope for no surprises." He clasped her hand, and together they began to activate the spell. Jean closed her eyes and prayed that she would open them again to find Santola in her own time.

Chapter
THIRTY-SEVEN

T
he passage through time was very smooth, hardly more distracting than walking through a dark room. They landed with a thump in a house—and it wasn't Nikolai's villa in Santola. Jean swallowed hard, trying not to weep at the knowledge that she would never see her home and family again. Despite her attempts to be philosophical about this possibility, the reality was crushing.

Fighting her disappointment, Jean released Nikolai's hands and studied the room.
"This appears to be a bedroom in a London town house, a rather grand one. Can
you sense our location?"

"Definitely London." He sighed, as disappointed as she. "I'm
sorry, Jean. I would also like to go home, but the loss is greater for you."

"At least we're in England, not High Barbary." She walked to the window and glanced down into the street. It was midafternoon, judging by the light, and sometime in winter. The house was set on one of London's pretty squares designed around a small park.
"Mayfair, I think, though I don't believe I've ever been inside this house.
Clearly we have more work to do."

She saw several women walking past and sucked in her breath. "We may have traveled a great distance forward. I see women wearing gowns that are scarcely more than shifts!" The high-waisted gowns were flowing and pretty, but wouldn't have been decent in any time period Jean had seen.

"As a man, I approve of the style," Nikolai said when he joined her at the window.
"The men's clothing hasn't changed as much, and those women over there are
wearing fuller garments. Perhaps a new style is coming in but not yet
established."

Jean studied the street scene more carefully. "You're right—I was
so startled by the new that I missed the familiar. Perhaps we haven't moved as
far as I thought."

They heard firm steps approaching and looked at each other warily. They were in a stranger's house with no more reason than if they were burglars. Nikolai took her hand.
"The ancestors haven't let us down yet."

The door swung open, and she squeezed his hand hard as a woman entered. It took Jean a moment to recognize Lady Bethany March, Falconer's daughter. She had been part of the shield net from the beginning, and she upheld the family tradition of great power. As controlled as her father, she scarcely blinked at seeing them.
"My brother told me how he found you on a street, but thumping into my house
definitely trumps that. Welcome, travelers!"

"The ancestors are developing ever better aim, I think," Jean said.
"What year is this? Clothing has changed considerably."

"We are in 1807, sixteen years after your previous visit." A mature woman in her fifties, Bethany looked well in one of the slim, graceful new gowns.
"Wilberforce has introduced antislave trade bills faithfully over the years. One even passed, only to fail in the House of Lords. But conditions have changed, and this time there's a good chance of passage." She looked hopeful.
"Perhaps you are here to tip the balance for victory."

"Lord Buckland thought that in 1791. Instead, we seemed to have arrived there to limit the damage," Nikolai said wryly.
"How have conditions changed?"

"Come to my sitting room for tea while I explain." She ushered them through the length of the house to a handsome set of rooms that looked into the back garden. After ringing for tea, she moved to a side door and opened it to say,
"Mary, some old friends have arrived. Will you join us?"

A tall, dark-skinned woman entered. Nikolai exlaimed, "Mary
Andrews! How good to see you again."

She smiled. "It's Mary Owens now. I'm Lady Beth's secretary."

"And I'll wager you create much mischief between you." Curious, Jean added,
"Owens is a Guardian name, though not exclusively, of course."

Mary nodded. "My husband is a Guardian. Our children have some
interesting skills among them!"

"Much of Mary's work involves abolition," Bethany said. "My
husband is a government minister, so the house has no shortage of politics.
Come, sit down, and Mary and I will educate you on what has happened since your
last visit."

After tea and cakes arrived, Bethany and Mary give a swift summary of how the situation had changed.
"When the French Revolution turned into the Reign of Terror in 1793, Britain declared war on France. We've been fighting ever since, except one brief period," Bethany explained.
"Because of the war and the general fear of anything that might be considered
radical, the government did its best to suppress all groups calling for reform,
which hurt the antislavery societies. The movement fell into near paralysis."

"There was also a great revolt by slaves and mulattos in the French colony of St. Domingue." Mary picked up the thread.
"Both the French and the British fought to suppress the rebellion, but they failed. The colony has become the free black nation of Haiti." She made no attempt to keep the pride from her voice.
"Not only did it prove how well Africans can fight, but since the island is not
under French control, British planters in the Indies can no longer say they must
keep their slaves in order to compete with the French. Also, British soldiers
who fought the black rebels do not want to fight them again to support slavery,
which many common soldiers despise."

"A successful slave revolt would make all the planters in the Indies anxious," Nikolai said thoughtfully.
"If slaves can be successful on one island, they can be successful on others. So
perhaps it is better if they are not slaves."

Bethany refreshed the tea in the cups. "The French have
vacillated—so very French! In a burst of idealism, they declared all slaves
free. In 1794, I think. But then one of their generals, Napoleon Bonaparte,
declared himself to be an emperor and France is no longer so free and
idealistic. One of the effects of that is that the French are now trying to
restore slavery."

"They've opened Pandora's box." Jean took two more cakes. Time travel always made her hungry.
"Men who have been freed will not willingly accept chains again."

"So the French have found." Bethany smiled mischievously. "A
delightful aspect of this is that now Britons can prove themselves more virtuous
than the French simply by opposing slavery. It has been a great boon to our
cause."

Jean and Nikolai laughed. "Make a man feel superior for agreeing with you and the battle is half won," she said.
"So all of these developments are making abolition of the slave trade more
likely?"

"All this, plus there was one other master stroke," Mary said.

"One of the staunchest abolitionists is a very clever marine lawyer named James Stephen," Bethany continued.
"He lived in the Indies for some years and truly loathes slavery. He wrote a
book explaining how even though the British Navy has blockaded France, the
French have maintained a most profitable trade by using the ships of neutral
nations such as America. If our navy captured such ships, it would impede the
French and be very profitable for the naval vessels making such captures.
Stephen persuaded Wilberforce to introduce a bill granting permission to capture
any neutral ships aiding France. It sounded very patriotic and passed without
much notice."

Mary offered the plate of cakes around again. Both Jean and Nikolai accepted more. Jean was glad to know she wasn't the only one who was ravenous.
"What most people didn't realize," Mary explained, "is that many of those so-called neutral ships are really British. The only thing American is the flag. So Mr. Stephen's law has ended up hindering the
British
slave trade!"

"Is that not delicious?" Bethany said. "Even though abolition
groups were suppressed during the nineties, it turned out that people's feelings
hadn't changed. The movement has come back and is stronger than ever. In the
last parliamentary election, more abolitionist MPs were elected to office.
Wilberforce's bill to abolish the slavery bill is being debated even as we
speak, and soon there will be a vote."

Nikolai closed his eyes. "The pro-and antislavery spirits are
locked in a mortal embrace, aren't they? With so many people passionately caring
on both sides, there is a huge amount of energy involved."

"The shield net is stronger now than when you were here before, but it will need all of its strength to keep the Demon at bay during the voting," Mary said seriously.
"If left to their own consciences, a majority of MPs would vote for the bill, I
think. We must make sure that nothing happens to poison their minds and change
their votes."

"Which is where we come in." Jean set down her empty teacup, feeling very calm.
"If the bill passes in the Commons, will it have a chance of passing in the
House of Lords and being signed by the king?"

"There is reason to believe that the movement has become so strong that they will agree." Bethany bit her lip.
"I keep telling myself that because I don't want to believe otherwise. We shall
find out soon enough, I think. If you're ready, we can go to Westminster now."

"Could we refresh ourselves first?" Jean asked.

"Sorry, I should have thought of that," Bethany said apologetically.
"You can use the guest room where you arrived."

"The accuracy of the ancestors is truly amazing." Nikolai stood.
"Is the voting likely to take place today? The spirit energies feel very, very
intense."

Bethany nodded. "It should be in the next few hours. I thought to
take you to the same box where you watched before. Will that do?"

"It will." Jean also rose. "Let us hope we need do nothing more
than watch."

Nikolai found it a little eerie to return to the site of their last encounter with Parliament. The private box was the same, if a little shabbier. The galleries were just as full, though clothing fashions had changed. Many of the faces were the same, though worn by almost twenty more years of living. Even the background energies were the same, though they were now perilously intense.

After he settled down with Jean, Bethany, and Mary, he tuned in to the dueling entities. The shield net was balancing the Demon, but it was difficult. The pro-slavery energy was tense and skittish, as if dimly aware that its existence was threatened. He tuned in more and more finely, ignoring the debate below, until he found what he was looking for. He caught his breath.

Acutely aware of him, Jean said, "What did you find?"

"Kondo has traveled into a parallel world and is lashing up the dark energy like a man whipping a team of horses." Even as he monitored Kondo, he felt the Demon grow.
"Damnation! He is drawing dark energies from other parts of the world—Africa,
Asia, the West Indies. Anywhere there is slave energy and intense misery."

Jean frowned. "Can he use that energy to flood Parliament and
poison people's minds against abolition?"

Nikolai analyzed what he was sensing. "I think that's what he
intends. He may have enough power to physically harm some of the most passionate
abolitionists, as he did with Wilberforce."

Jean's face whitened. "The shield net won't be able to hold
him off?"

"He is drawing from a much larger population. Even if you could
connect with the energy of every abolitionist in Europe, I don't think it would
be as strong."

"Maybe not, but I will certainly try," she said grimly.

Nikolai thought back to his initiation and the many parallel worlds he had visited. Now he saw that his travels had all been preparation for this.
"I think I can reach him on that other world and perhaps stop him there before
he can release his destruction."

"That sounds dangerous."

"Very likely. But this is the climax of our mission, Jean." He caught her gaze.
"We both pledged our lives if necessary. Up till now, there has been little
danger to us. Tonight we face the ultimate challenge."

She nodded, grief in her eyes, but she made no effort to dissuade him.
"I shall make the shield as strong as I can. Take whatever protective energy you need. I swear there will be enough." Bethany and Mary, who were listening, nodded grave agreement.

"Then, I shall begin, and pray I reach him in time." Nikolai moved his chair back so he could rest his head against the wall. He relaxed his body while focusing his mind to a narrow blade. Then he followed the track of the dark energy.

He spun through a kaleidoscope of sensations—light and dark, form and chaos, cacophony and bone-chilling silence, searing flames and paralyzing cold. They were different worlds that must be crossed to reach the hell where Kondo's spirit was working.

Nikolai found his enemy in dark night on an endless red plain. The air was full of groans and cries of agony, as if all the universe's tormented souls resided here. As soon as he halted, his naked body began to fracture into grains of dust. Gasping, he collected himself as tightly as possible, struggling to stay whole.

He realized that Jean had accompanied him as a gossamer, unbreakable thread of light. Through her, he was able to gather the glittering shield net around himself. Its power held mind and body together.

Prepared, he turned slowly, scanning until he saw a dark funnel in the middle distance. It was Kondo in the form of a tornado as he prepared to channel all the dark energies of slavery to that crowded chamber in Westminster.

Nikolai wished himself closer, and in the blink of an eye he was beside Kondo. The African priest spun into his human form and glared at Nikolai with eyes that glowed red.
"You should not have followed me, fool, for in this world you are vulnerable."

"As are you." Nikolai envisioned a great silver sword. It formed itself from the diamond-bright shield and fitted itself perfectly to his hand. A river of light poured through him and into the blade.

He slashed at the dark energy, aiming not at Kondo, but at the swirling mass of pain that the priest had collected. His blow divided the mass into two parts. There was a great shriek from Kondo and the howling multitudes, but an instant later the cries of pain diminished.

He was on the right track—dividing the energy reduced its power. He managed one more blow before Kondo retaliated with a mass of black, flaming material like burning tar. The flames spread over Nikolai's body, scorching his skin and etching away at the shield net. He cried out. The pain was indescribable.