Read The Spellbinder (Tom & Laura Series) Online
Authors: John Booth
The Spellbinder (Tom & Laura Series)
The Spellbinder
by
John Booth
It is an age of adventure and daring heroes. The
British Empire
is growing, helped by the power of Military Magic. When enemies gather to strike at
London
, Tom and Laura find themselves enlisted and sent to an academy of spies. But danger is waiting at every move they make.
Book 1 in the Tom & Laura Series
Book 1 in the Tom and Laura Series
© John Booth 2011
Second edition published by John Booth Enterprises Limited.
Cover Design by Maria K.
John Booth asserts the moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work
.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the copyright owner except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Scrawls in the Dust
Can anyone doubt the success of the
British Empire
? The United States of America have finally acknowledged the validity of our dominion over the North American Colonies and Canada, each day the Empire expands by hundreds of square miles as our railways cut into darkest Africa, while the whole Indian continent has been annexed to the crown.
And yet, even now, there are some who fear the combination of military might and magic that has made it possible. Spellbinders, who routed the Americans in 1814 when defeat stared us in the face, are feared; those with magical abilities are often shunned despite Queen
Victoria
and
Prince Albert
’s fine example in socializing and honoring them.
The Austrian-Hungarian Empire condemns us for making pacts with witches even as it struggles to acquire its own Healers and Spellbinders. The Papists still burn the poor unfortunates that they catch.
Let us take heart in being the world’s only superpower with four Class A Spellbinders and heap on them the praise they deserve.
-Editorial in the Empire Times, August 23
rd
1860
Laura strode purposefully down the street towards home. It was uncomfortably hot in her school uniform and she tried to force her face not to sweat.
London
expected so much of a young lady and she missed the carefree attitudes of the countryside where she grew up. She suspected that her teachers would faint away with shock if they knew she had spent her youth swimming naked with the local lads, not to mention the other things she’d done with them. Her friend Sally had married at fourteen and her child Victor was nearly two. Such things were unheard of in the prudish heartland of the new Victorian age. She couldn’t even display an ankle in
London
without attracting censure.
A man crossed the street to avoid her. He’d seen her uniform and knew what she was. Laura grinned. If he knew exactly what she was he’d be running the other way as fast as his legs could carry him. In the valise at her side she carried the paper and ink that made her very dangerous indeed. Not that she was allowed to use them, and not that that had ever stopped her.
Laura walked the empty streets unescorted. None of her fellow pupils lived this far to the west and in the early afternoon most people were still hard at work in the factories.
She carefully avoided the horse dung kicked from the cobbled street onto the paving stones. Flies buzzed everywhere and were almost as annoying as the heat and the smell. There was a park ahead, recently made public as one of
Prince Albert
’s initiatives to improve the life of working folk. Once within its walls she’d be able to get under the shade of trees.
A large scruffy brown dog sat forlornly in the shade of a dark alley. Something about the way he sat drew Laura’s attention to him. She stopped and scratched the dog’s ear noting the fact that its eyes were blue. The eyes always reverted first. She sighed and continued on her way. It was none of her business.
The dog followed behind her, head down, whining as if he was in some pain.
Laura turned, “Do buck up, young man. I will not tolerate whining amongst my friends
or
acquaintances. Come with me to the park and we will see what I might do for you.”
Not waiting for any response Laura set off at a pace across the street before turning into the imposing stone gate of the park, in Imperial Britain; parks must also present a vision of greatness. After walking a few hundred yards Laura sat down on a convenient wooden bench facing the gravel path.
“Now then,” she said to the dog, whose tongue hung out as it panted in the heat. “Come here and sit down before me.” The dog complied reluctantly, its ears drooping.
“You must act like whom you are if you wish to return to who you are. I want you to stand high on your back legs and shake my hand. No excuses now, you must strain at the bond that binds you.”
The dog tried to obey her, but tipped over as she reached for its paw and fell backwards onto the gravel path.
“That is simply not good enough,” Laura told the dog severely, “You must fight against the form.” The dog got to his feet again, its tail wagging despite her words of chastisement.
This time the dog completed the maneuver and as its back legs straightened and his paw reached out towards her a remarkable transformation took place.
Laura found herself shaking the hand of a rather handsome naked young man.
His hands flew to cover his manhood and he stumbled back, almost falling onto the gravel path. The gravel was exceedingly hot in the slight of the sun and he danced on them while trying not to expose himself. Laura giggled at the sight before her. The boy composed himself enough to think and ran around the bench, hiding inside a large holly bush. Laura resumed her previous position of well-mannered repose. She looked away from where the boy hid and waited to see what he would do next.
“Miss, er miss?” He sounded both well-educated and properly contrite. Laura smiled.
“Yes, young man?”
“You couldn’t go and fetch my clothes for me, could you? They’re back in the alley where we first met.”
“For a boy, or perhaps I should say a man, judging by what I have seen, who has not been properly introduced? That would not be very ladylike.” Laura tried hard to keep from laughing.
“My name’s Tom. Thomas Carter. Oh I say, don’t be rotten, it was bad enough being turned into a dog by that blighter Carmichael, I hate Spellbinders.”
“I would have you know,
young sir,
that I too am a Spellbinder. One, I might add, of some considerable power.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean you. It’s just that
Carmichaels
’ got it in for me, always doing something rotten or foul against me when I’m not expecting it. It hasn’t been much fun since I came up to town.”
“My name is Laura Young, since you seem unlikely to ask. I can quite understand that it can’t be too much fun crouching inside a holly bush in the altogether. I cannot but wonder that a policeman will wander by and arrest you for being the sort of perverted individual who preys on innocent young ladies.”
“Oh please, Laura…”
“Oh, all right. You have convinced me to assist you in your plight. I will go and fetch your clothing. Stay hidden here whilst I go and get them.”
Laura strode off through the park back towards the alley. The ground underneath the bush was covered in spiky leaves and he hopped from foot to foot while he waited for her to return. He was scared to look out lest someone see him. The London Constabulary did not take kindly to naked young men in public places, even if the one in question came from a highly respectable family.
After waiting for what seemed like an age, Tom saw a dainty female hand swing into the bush holding his precious clothes. He had never been more grateful to see anything in his life.
As he stumbled over his own feet, struggling to get dressed as quickly as possible, Laura delivered a short speech outlining his situation.
“Your Spellbinder thinks he is talented, but I would be ashamed if one of my binds had broken so easily. If your
Carmichael
had my tutor he would have been caned for carrying out such a sloppy work.” Laura paused for a moment as she considered the formidable Mr. Grimes who tutored her in the magical arts. “Then he would be caned again for putting the spell on you,” she said in a more kindly tone.
“Binds can be broken by straining at them. Acting as though you were not a dog in form and posture produced such a strain. I expect the bind would not have lasted more than a day before it burst into flame, even if you had done nothing. My own work is far more robust.”
“I’m really sorry to have put you to so much trouble,” Tom replied as he stumbled from the bush, now respectably dressed. “I am being educated at the
Lord
Barnes
School
for Strong Gentlemen. I have to say I don’t recognize your uniform?”
Laura looked Tom over. Now that he was clothed and her eyes were no longer drawn to his nether regions, she saw that he was a tall handsome young man with a head of attractive curly black hair. He looked similar to her own age of sixteen.
“I go to St Freda’s
Ladies
Academy
for my pains, and they are many and often, I’m afraid. The school is very strict.”
“Mine too. I’ve been boarding at Lord Barnes since the beginning of summer. I am to be trained in the arts required of a Gentleman before I go to Her Majesty’s Army to become an officer. I expect I will be posted overseas.”
“Sit here.” Laura patted the far end of the bench on which she sat. She retrieved parchment and a small bottle of black ink from her valise. Laura turned to face Tom and began to draw. Tom felt the need to stay still almost as a compulsion, though he had no idea what she was doing or why.
“There,” Laura said and passed him the parchment on which was drawn a most exquisite and detailed likeness of Tom, naked and in a state of, (shall we say for proprieties sake), some excitement.
Tom blushed crimson as he viewed the proportions of the item of anatomy involved.
Laura grinned at his discomfiture; he was obviously a modest young man.
“You will be safe now. This bind will hold your shape as it is. Your enemy, Carmichael, will be in for a nasty shock if he tries to change you again”
“But why did you draw me…in that state?”
“If I didn’t draw it like that, you might not be able to… Well you might be incapacitated from your duty as a man until the bind wore off.” Laura found herself reddening under his puzzled gaze. For a man of his age, he seemed peculiarly uneducated in certain reproductive matters.
Laura instructed Tom on the bind’s safekeeping. “Remember, you must not fold it. Keep it away from sunlight, and in a metal box. Eventually the bind will wear out and the paper will catch fire. They always do.”
Tom stared at the picture in front of him. He had heard that some Spellbinders used drawings and that if done well, such images lasted longer than words. However, for a girl to give him such an explicit picture has his blood racing in a way that made the drawing an increasingly accurate depiction.
Laura retrieved another slip of paper from her valise.
Tom decided to ask her a question.
“How long…”
“Big enough, I would say, for a young gentleman of your age,” she said briskly, covering the drawing with the blank sheet of paper.
“No, I me-me-me-meant how long will it last?” Tom felt he had blushed enough in this short encounter with this girl to last his lifetime.
“Three months, maybe four at most. It depends whether this
Carmichael
tries to change you again, and how much effort he puts into it. Not to mention the quality of the parchment and ink he uses. Nevertheless, the first time he tries will result a large bang as his bind explodes and that should discourage him for a while. I afraid I shall have to leave you now or my parents will become concerned at my tardiness.”
Tom got to his feet and offered her a hand to get up.
“Will I see you again?”
“I pass here most days at quarter past the hour of four. If you are here, I daresay we may speak again.”
“I would like that, very much.” Tom said with deep felt sincerity. Laura was the first person he had met since coming to
London
that he thought of as a friend.
“Then I shall welcome your company.”
Laura walked quickly away from Tom, as she really did have to get home. She contemplated that this merry little adventure had been quite exciting and she walked with a spring in her step.
