have many long-term campaigns?” he asked.
Joan started to relax into the chair, feeling for the first time that afternoon the warmth of the nearby fire and the soft cushions under her back. “No,” she said. “Too hard to predict the Dark Ones in advance. And I’m not high up enough for strategy, mostly. Only plan I’ve been in on more than a week or two in advance was…”
“Coming here?” Simon asked, and his gaze was both sharper and sadder as he looked at her.
“Yeah. That.”
Chapter 13
My friend, the letter began, in Sangupta’s neat, round handwriting,
I cannot even guess at the events that prompted you to seek such information from me, and I feel certain, from the vagueness in your earlier letter, that you will not disclose them. Therefore, I will not trespass upon your privacy or presume on our friendship by pressing the matter.
Let me, however, warn you. Geasa are no light matter. It is, in a way, easier to kill a man with magic than to compel him to act against his will, just as it is in the real world, and any attempt to command a man’s obedience often comes back on the caster.
To change a man’s nature for the rest of his life takes power seldom seen today, and the ways of shaping that power are themselves secret.
There was a book written by one of your countrymen a few centuries ago, The Wisdom of Raguiel . It is difficult to find, as are all sources of real power, but I was fortunate enough to read a copy in my youth. From what I remember, it may have what you seek.
When I read this book, it was in the hands of a scholar in London, a Doctor Gillespie. He is a private and a very strange man, but you may be able to persuade him to let you see it.
Whatever your quest might be, my friend, I can only trust that you pursue it out of the best of motives and that you do so with all the wisdom and judgment I know you possess. Thus, I wish you the best of fortune; may all the Powers and the Secret Masters attend you in your endeavors and keep us both safe until we meet again.
Sangupta
Simon folded the letter and sat back at his desk, tapping his fingers on the mahogany surface. Leaving Englefield for a few days would not be such a disaster now. The threats he’d feared when he’d left London had shrunk. Between the warding spell and Joan, Eleanor should be quite safe. She seemed happier too, more involved in life. Surely there were no more grounds for the other fear, the one Simon hadn’t quite been able even to articulate.
Leaving Joan behind should present little problem as well. On her own, she could probably keep from making herself conspicuous. She’d be fine with Eleanor’s help. Between riding and reading and walking in the garden, she’d keep herself quite content without him.
The thought didn’t please him. Perhaps that was another reason why he should go. That and Alex himself.
No further attacks had occurred since Simon had set up the wards, or at least none that he knew of. Nobody had reported mysterious creatures skulking around. It was quite possible to believe that Alex had given up. Whatever dedication he was capable of in the service of his own gratification, he was easy enough to distract.
Simon almost hoped Alex was using his absence to plot some grand and complicated scheme. Better that, in a way, than to believe that Eleanor’s misery or the attack on his own person had been the whims of a moment or that the world might end because of a spoiled schoolboy. And if a scheme was in the works, it would be best if Simon wasn’t away from London for too long.
He told Mathers to begin packing.
“I’ll be three days,” he told Eleanor. “Four at the most.”
She nodded. Then, as silence stretched out between them, she swallowed and spoke. “I hope that you have a safe journey. And that your business goes well.”
Not too long ago, simply having her speaking on her own initiative would have been a triumph. But she’d laughed and joked with him, if quietly, when
Joan started to relax into the chair, feeling for the first time that afternoon the warmth of the nearby fire and the soft cushions under her back. “No,” she said. “Too hard to predict the Dark Ones in advance. And I’m not high up enough for strategy, mostly. Only plan I’ve been in on more than a week or two in advance was…”
“Coming here?” Simon asked, and his gaze was both sharper and sadder as he looked at her.
“Yeah. That.”
Chapter 13
My friend, the letter began, in Sangupta’s neat, round handwriting,
I cannot even guess at the events that prompted you to seek such information from me, and I feel certain, from the vagueness in your earlier letter, that you will not disclose them. Therefore, I will not trespass upon your privacy or presume on our friendship by pressing the matter.
Let me, however, warn you. Geasa are no light matter. It is, in a way, easier to kill a man with magic than to compel him to act against his will, just as it is in the real world, and any attempt to command a man’s obedience often comes back on the caster.
To change a man’s nature for the rest of his life takes power seldom seen today, and the ways of shaping that power are themselves secret.
There was a book written by one of your countrymen a few centuries ago, The Wisdom of Raguiel . It is difficult to find, as are all sources of real power, but I was fortunate enough to read a copy in my youth. From what I remember, it may have what you seek.
When I read this book, it was in the hands of a scholar in London, a Doctor Gillespie. He is a private and a very strange man, but you may be able to persuade him to let you see it.
Whatever your quest might be, my friend, I can only trust that you pursue it out of the best of motives and that you do so with all the wisdom and judgment I know you possess. Thus, I wish you the best of fortune; may all the Powers and the Secret Masters attend you in your endeavors and keep us both safe until we meet again.
Sangupta
Simon folded the letter and sat back at his desk, tapping his fingers on the mahogany surface. Leaving Englefield for a few days would not be such a disaster now. The threats he’d feared when he’d left London had shrunk. Between the warding spell and Joan, Eleanor should be quite safe. She seemed happier too, more involved in life. Surely there were no more grounds for the other fear, the one Simon hadn’t quite been able even to articulate.
Leaving Joan behind should present little problem as well. On her own, she could probably keep from making herself conspicuous. She’d be fine with Eleanor’s help. Between riding and reading and walking in the garden, she’d keep herself quite content without him.
The thought didn’t please him. Perhaps that was another reason why he should go. That and Alex himself.
No further attacks had occurred since Simon had set up the wards, or at least none that he knew of. Nobody had reported mysterious creatures skulking around. It was quite possible to believe that Alex had given up. Whatever dedication he was capable of in the service of his own gratification, he was easy enough to distract.
Simon almost hoped Alex was using his absence to plot some grand and complicated scheme. Better that, in a way, than to believe that Eleanor’s misery or the attack on his own person had been the whims of a moment or that the world might end because of a spoiled schoolboy. And if a scheme was in the works, it would be best if Simon wasn’t away from London for too long.
He told Mathers to begin packing.
“I’ll be three days,” he told Eleanor. “Four at the most.”
She nodded. Then, as silence stretched out between them, she swallowed and spoke. “I hope that you have a safe journey. And that your business goes well.”
Not too long ago, simply having her speaking on her own initiative would have been a triumph. But she’d laughed and joked with him, if quietly, when
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