Dark Mirror 1.5 - Fallen from Grace (2 page)

Under those circumstances, my father can dismiss my magic as a minor aberration that I have outgrown. My children will probably be untainted. Since my family is well-respected, most people will be inclined to give me the benefit of the doubt if I live a blamelessly mundane life.

Though I felt pain at the thought of never wielding my power again, Kemperton is worth it. I agreed to cooperate fully with the program at Lackland Abbey so I will be cured as quickly as possible. I will not even
look
at girls with magic. We shook hands on it. Then I thanked him for his generosity and left.

My mother was waiting for me outside my father’s study. Her eyes were red from crying as she hugged me and said it was all her fault. Apparently there is some history of magic in her family, though not so close and so powerful that she thought any child of hers would be a mageling.

I hugged her back, thinking how lucky I am that my parents don’t despise me. Perhaps my magic did come from her. But I wouldn’t have wanted a different mother.

October 25
^th
, 1801, Lackland Abbey

This pestilential place is worse than I expected. Though the abbey is cold, gray, stony, and blasted by wind and rain from the North Sea, that’s not unusual in England. Far harder to bear are the beastly magical suppression spells that smother the entire property.

Apparently the monks who built this place drove out every trace of magic because they considered it evil. Even though I agreed to come here and be cured, I didn’t realize how wretchedly empty I would feel with my abilities crushed.

But most of the students are decent fellows. I quite like my roommate, Halliwell. All of us have had to live with being different, constantly fearing discovery. That fear is now behind us since we
have
been discovered. Our common goal is to be cured so we can leave and reclaim as much of our lives as possible.

Surprisingly, a few of the boys refuse to renounce their magic. They intend to become practicing mages when they leave at age twenty-one. They are here because their families want them cured. Or maybe the families want to be seen as condemning magic. Either way, no one can be cured without wanting it to happen.

The masters are well enough. Most classes are similar to what I studied at Eton. The canings are no worse than at Eton. (No better, either.)

The most amiable of the masters is Mr. Stephens, who is the youngest. He teaches magical control and is the one who will eliminate our magical abilities when the time comes. For this he must be a mage himself. He was once a Lackland student, so he understands better than the others what it is like to be cursed with magic.

November 3rd, 1801, Lackland Abbey

Sports are even more important here than at Eton. I suspect the headmaster wants us to tire ourselves out on the playing fields rather than rioting and tearing the buildings down. I look forward to the games each afternoon so I can exhaust myself and sleep well. I have had my old nightmare more frequently since I came here.

November 15th, 1801, Lackland Abbey

The boys’ school is separated from the girls’ by a magical wall. There are holes in the stonework that make it possible to speak through the wall, even to touch fingers. A spell makes it impossible to go over the wall or to brick in the holes.

Did the early monks and nuns build it like this to test their resistance to the temptations of the flesh? There are many flirtations between male and female students. I avoid the wall, of course. I cannot have anything to do with mage-born girls.

November 23, 1801, Lackland Abbey

I saw Elspeth today! I had just finished a game when I saw a flash of silvery blond hair through one of the wall holes. It’s a rare shade, and sure enough, the hair belonged to my cousin. I was amazingly pleased to see her.

She’s very petite. When we were children, I once asked if she was a fairy changeling who had been swapped in the cradle for the real Lady Elspeth Campbell. She laughed and said she was quite sure that she wasn’t, but her magic came to her so early that once or twice I’ve wondered if she really is a fairy.

She told me straight off that she has openly embraced her magic and will endure Lackland Abbey until she can leave at twenty-one. I was startled by that, but apparently she is a gifted healer. They are the best accepted mages, so she will be able to support herself in comfort.

She’ll surely marry, too—she’s beautiful. No aristocrat would want a wife with her abilities, but there are good men of lower rank.

Elspeth said something odd about how there is more to Lackland Abbey than is apparent. There are rumors of chalk tunnels below the abbey, like the tunnels below Dover Castle, which is only a few miles away.

Perhaps the monks used them to age wine? She left me curious.

November 26th, 1801, Lackland Abbey

Curiosity is a nuisance. Have quietly gone out the last few nights to see if I could find entrances to the rumored tunnels. No luck.

November 28th, 1801, Lackland Abbey

The world has turned upside down. Tonight I found the way down into a vast maze of chalk tunnels beneath the abbey. They were carved centuries ago. In the center is a hall where magelings from the school and the village meet three times a week to study magic. These rebel students call this maze the Labyrinth, and Elspeth is a leader among them. There are two adult mentors, and the male is Mr. Stephens.

Though magic is suppressed above the surface in the abbey, it is concentrated belowground. The magelings who meet here call themselves Merlin’s Irregulars because they are an “irregular” magical militia sworn to defend Britain if necessary. Though peace negotiations are now in process between us and France, there will be no peace as long as Napoleon lives and lusts to conquer all Europe.

I was invited to join the Irregulars. Does my duty to help defend my country come before my duty to my parents and my heritage? I don’t know.

If called on to fight in battle, I would do so without hesitation. But magic? My peers would consider that disgraceful, yet I have a rare ability that could be valuable to Britain. Would it be cowardly of me to refuse to use my abilities simply because some would condemn me?

Or am I using patriotism as an excuse to use magic? It was exhilarating to be among magelings who are proud of what they do. I envy that pride. But if I embrace magic, I will lose Kemperton and break my parents’ hearts.

If any students find the Labyrinth and refuse to join the Irregulars, they are given a spell of forgetting and sent back to their beds. After serious thought, I swore the oath making me an Irregular with the stipulation that I might later renounce my magic, but if I am called on to serve England before then—if Napoleon invades—I will fulfill my vow.

I am troubled but excited.

December 5th, 1801, Lackland Abbey

Magic comes in so many wondrous and fascinating varieties! The more one practices, the stronger one’s powers become. We teach each other, after our studies, we drink tea and eat cakes brought from the village and relax together. I have never had such comrades.