Magic In The Storm (21 page)

The lady nodded, but did not return the
smile. “You are looking for rooms?”

“Yes,” Cosmina answered, keeping the smile on
her face despite the lady’s cool reception.

She seemed to be handling this expertly,
Morgan thought, as he allowed his mind to wander away from the
conversation.

The room was pleasant in a shabby, genteel
manner. The carpet on the floor looked as good as those at
Vallentyn Abbey, but was threadbare in places. The same was the
case with the chairs and sofas that decorated the cozy, little
room.

He wondered what Adriana’s home was like. Did
she live in a pleasant little house like this one, or in one of the
grander homes he and Cosmina had passed on their way here? He
suspected the latter, based on what Adriana had told him about her
guardian.

“I am so sorry, Mrs. Lunden, I didn’t realize
you had guests,” a male voice interrupted Morgan’s thoughts.

A very tall, thin man with a hawk–like nose
stood in the doorway. He was dressed all in black and, by his stiff
bearing, looked rather like the butler at Vallentyn.

“It is all right, Mr. Nestor, you may come
in. Mrs. Nomid and Mr. Vallentyn are here enquiring about rooms,”
Mrs. Lunden said. She then turned back to Cosmina and said, “Mr.
Nestor is also a boarder here.”

Mr. Nestor’s eyes had snapped to Morgan the
moment Mrs. Lunden had said his name. Even as he entered the room
and closed the door behind him, he still did not look away. Morgan
shifted uncomfortably under the man’s scrutiny, and then chastised
himself for a show of weakness. He must still be jittery from his
encounter with the gypsy men.

“Mr. Vallentyn? You wouldn’t happen to be
related to Lady Vallentyn of Berkshire?” he asked.

Morgan stood up, immediately wary of the man.
On the other hand...

“I am Robert Nestor. You’ve never heard of
me, I’m sure, but it is an honor to meet you, Mr. Vallentyn.” He
approached Morgan with his hand held out.

Tentatively, Morgan grasped the man’s hand.
He was right, Morgan had never heard of him, but he didn’t like
that this stranger knew who he was.

“You are...?” Mrs. Lunden asked,
hesitating.

Mr. Nestor jumped in, finally taking his eyes
off of Morgan. “Lady Vallentyn is a very important member of
society, Mrs. Lunden.”

“Oh! Why didn’t you tell me that to begin
with, sir?”

“I didn’t know that it was significant,”
Morgan said, realizing, as he did so, that he was acknowledging his
relationship with his mother. He also didn’t mention his mother’s
position in society because, until Mr. Nestor had said so, he
hadn’t known of it himself.

“Why, yes, of course it is significant,” the
woman laughed, now suddenly all smiles and warmth.

“Then perhaps you could see to lowering the
rent we were discussing?” Cosmina asked hopefully.

“Oh, well,” Mrs. Lunden hesitated for a
moment, “yes. Yes, of course. There is a Lord Vallentyn, I assume?
And your family’s estate is in Berkshire?” she asked, turning back
to Morgan.

“Yes, ma’am. My brother is Lord Vallentyn. He
manages the estate—Vallentyn Abbey and the farms surrounding
it.”

“There are other properties?” she asked
hopefully.

Morgan nodded, not entirely certain why she
was so interested.

“Oh, well, that is all right. Yes, that’s
just fine,” she said, fanning her hand in front of her face. “For
the brother of a...” she paused, and looked expectantly at
Morgan.

“A viscount,” Mr. Nestor supplied
helpfully.

“Yes,” Mrs. Lunden nodded and smiled again.
“For the brother of a viscount, I suppose we could lower the rent,
to begin with. Just until you find your feet, Mr. Vallentyn, or
perhaps apply to your brother for more funds?”

Morgan opened his mouth to say he would never
ask his brother for money, when Cosmina laughed gaily and said,
“Oh, yes, of course. It will be no problem, no problem at all, Mrs.
Lunden.”

The lady stood up. “Very good, then. I will
just see to your rooms. Perhaps Mr. Nestor could tell you the house
rules while I do so?”

Mr. Nestor gave her a little bow. “My
pleasure.” He then held the door open for her, and closed it firmly
behind her.

“What do you know of my family, sir?” Morgan
asked, turning to face Mr. Nestor.

He supposed that his expression had become
one of suspicion, because Mr. Nestor took a step back and began to
wring his hands nervously. “Nothing! Nothing. Well, reputation, you
know. Only what is generally known in the er... well among
those...”

“Among whom?” Morgan asked sharply, taking a
step toward the slender man.

“Well,” Mr. Nestor began and then looked
meaningfully at Cosmina.

“You may speak freely in front of Cosmina,”
Morgan said, following his eyes.

Mr. Nestor released his breath.

“Among whom?” Morgan asked again, when he
didn’t begin speaking immediately.

“Well, among the gifted, shall we say?” Mr.
Nestor said quietly, still glancing toward Cosmina.

“There are others who can heal as Morgan
can?” Cosmina asked, quite surprised.

Morgan gave Cosmina a hard look. “Cosmina!”
He had trusted her not to disclose his abilities to anyone, but he
had not expressly forbidden her to do so. That might have been a
serious mistake.

“It is all right, Mr. Vallentyn. I know,” Mr.
Nestor said quietly, bringing a nervous smile to his lips.

If the smile was supposed to be reassuring,
Morgan thought to himself, it turned out to be just the opposite.
“What do you know?” Morgan asked.

“I know you are Vallen,” Mr. Nestor said very
quietly. “And judging by your parents, I would say you are a very
powerful one. It does not surprise me to learn that you can heal
people.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,”
Morgan said, trying to look as innocent as he could.

Mr. Nestor gave him a sly look, a sort of
half smile that plainly said,
you don’t have to play the
innocent, you and I both know what I’m talking about.

“There is no need to hide it from me, Mr.
Vallentyn,” he said. “I am Vallen too,” he added in a whisper that,
although very quiet, could be heard quite clearly.

Morgan turned away from Mr. Nestor and
Cosmina. It was not possible. There were no other Vallen besides
his family—were there? No! If there had been, then why would he
have been told expressly never to reveal his powers to anyone? And
why would Kat have never told him?

Morgan laughed out loud as he turned around
again. “I do not know what sort of game you are playing, Mr.
Nestor...”

“I am playing no game, sir,” he said in a
normal tone of voice. Indeed, the man looked very serious, if a bit
twitchy.

A chill ran up Morgan’s arms. “Did my mother
send you here? How did she find out so quickly?” Morgan moved to
the window and looked out onto the small street on which the house
was situated.

There was no one there. The street was
reassuringly empty, the sky above clouded over, pale white. Morgan
wondered if his face was the same color.

“I... I do not know your mother personally.”
Mr. Nestor’s voice shook. “I don’t know what she knows or does not
know.”

“Do not lie to me, sir!” Morgan said,
swinging around and advancing on the man. He was beginning to lose
his patience, and could feel his anger coiling up within him.

“I assure you, Mr. Vallentyn...” Mr. Nestor
quickly took two steps back away from him.

“Morgan, how could he have been sent by your
mother? He says he doesn’t know her,” Cosmina said, as if she were
cajoling a child into behaving properly.

Morgan looked over at her. She, too, was
looking a little frightened, but her eyes were pleading with him to
calm down. He took a deep breath, and moved back toward the
window.

He heard Mr. Nestor heave a sigh of relief.
“I assure you, Mr. Vallentyn, all I know of your mother is what I
have heard from other Vallen. That she is extremely powerful and
the High Priestess of the Coven of England. That is all.”

“Coven? You are witches, then?” Cosmina
asked, looking from one man to the other.

“No—” Morgan started to say.

“Not at all, ma’am!” Nestor said in disgusted
tones. “Witches and warlocks are frauds, fakes. They have been
attempting to copy us and our ways for centuries, and have only
managed to get many true Vallen killed. We
help
mankind. We
bring science, art and music to this world. We lead, entertain and
invent. That is why we are here, that is what we do,” he ended with
a flourish of his voice.

“And witches?” Cosmina prompted.

Mr. Nestor sneered. “Witches pretend to have
power—they have none. They scare people, cavort with the devil, and
give the Vallen a bad name.”

Cosmina looked impressed. Even Morgan hadn’t
known all that Mr. Nestor had just said. In fact, Morgan was
beginning to understand just how much he didn’t know.

“I didn’t realize there were others,” Morgan
admitted. “My mother is the high priestess, you said?”

“You did not know?” Mr. Nestor asked, turning
and looking completely dumbfounded at Morgan.

“No. But then, I have never been taught
anything about... about this.”

“Your mother has never taken you to a coven
meeting?”

“No.”

Mr. Nestor shook his head sadly. “Even I was
brought to coven meetings even though I’m a very weak Vallen.” He
paused for a moment. “You can heal?” he asked.

Morgan nodded hesitantly.

“And move things with his mind,” Cosmina
added helpfully.

Morgan scowled at her. He was really going to
have to speak with her about confidences.

Mr. Nestor waved off that comment, “Even the
weakest of us can do that.”

“Oh, but Morgan only just learned, and he
threw a man four feet or more without even touching him.”

That peaked Mr. Nestor’s interest. “How is
that?”

Morgan shrugged as nonchalantly as he could.
“I just imagined him flying through the air away from me...”

“No, no,” Mr. Nestor interrupted. “What does
she mean, you just learned?”

“Oh,” Morgan shrugged again. “My powers are
only beginning to show themselves. I suppose I’m just a little slow
in my development for some reason.” He tried to mask his
embarrassment, but there was nothing he could do about the pink
stain he noticed in his cheeks when he caught his reflection in the
mirror above the fire place.

Mr. Nestor shook his head. “I do not
understand. Powers do not develop, we have what we have from
birth.”

“Yes, but for some reason I have not had my
full powers until now. It is one reason why I’m here in London, to
see what I can learn about this, and how I can speed up the process
of attaining all the powers that I should have—if that’s
possible.”

Mr. Nestor seemed to be at a loss. He had
clearly never heard of such a thing—but then he, himself said, that
he wasn’t a very powerful Vallen. Maybe this was something only the
powerful knew about.

Morgan tried his best to stay positive, to
keep his hopes up.

I
wish I could help
you,” Mr. Nestor said, spreading his hands open.

“Do you know of any other Vallen who might be
able to help?” Cosmina asked, taking the words right from Morgan’s
mouth.

The man shook his head sadly. “You would need
to consult with someone very powerful...” he paused and thought for
a moment. “The only person who might know would be... your
mother.”

“No!” It nearly came out as a shout. With the
word, Morgan’s locked onto Mr. Nestor’s. “You will not inform my
mother or anyone that I am here. No one is to know you have even
met me. Do you understand?” The heat of anger mixed with his
magical energy to flow like lava through his body.

Mr. Nestor’s blinked once and then shook his
head. “No, I will never say a word to anyone.” He then shook his
head and blinked again, this time looking down at the thread–bare
carpet.

His eyes then flipped up to meet Morgan’s
once again. “My God, you... I heard it. I heard your voice in my
head. It was as if I was thinking what you said.”

“You did? I put a suggestion into your mind?”
Morgan was thrilled, but his heart was still pounding at the
thought that this man might still be able to tell his mother where
he was.

“Yes,” Mr. Nestor said, and then gave an awed
smile. “I’ve never met anyone who could do that.”

“But it is working?” Morgan asked. He didn’t
know strong his suggestion might be—strong enough, he hoped. He
could not afford for his mother to find out he was here.

“Oh yes, I can most definitely feel it
there.”

“Good.” Morgan relaxed. “I’ve only done it
once before.”

“Well, you seem to have done a good job of
it.”

“You don’t know any other powerful Vallen?”
Cosmina asked, clearly not grasping the importance of what Morgan
had just done. In fact, he was a little awed by it himself. Putting
suggestions into someone’s mind strong enough that they heard it as
their own thoughts was pretty powerful magic.

A tinge of excitement thrummed through
him.

He could do powerful magic. He could do it at
will. Was he actually getting his true powers? Did he have them
already? How did this happen? Well, he was almost too scared to ask
that. He was just so grateful that it was—and just in time too. He
had to have his full powers within the month!

Something Mr. Nestor was saying caught his
attention. “There are different covens for Vallen of differing
abilities?” Morgan asked.

Mr. Nestor turned to him. “Well, not
different covens, exactly. More like different meetings of the same
coven. And it is just in London, and I suppose other big cities
that they do this—where the Vallen population is large. It would
simply be too unwieldy to have that many Vallen at one meeting. And
it would certainly attract a great deal of attention. It’s tricky
enough as it is with the number of people at each meeting.”