Part 26 (1/2)

”You're a clever girl, but not clever enough.” Before she could invoke her protection spell, his hands were on her shoulders and he was pouring energy into her. She was weakening . . . paralyzed . . . gone. . . .

Simon managed to clear all the frightened visitors from the lion yard with no one seriously hurt. Besides the panicked youth, he rescued the old man who had fallen. The fellow was bruised but not broken. Simon also reunited a small girl child with her frantic parents.

Soldiers raced into the menagerie, clutching their weapons and looking pale at the prospect of confronting wild beasts. Simon used magic to calm them-armed men in a panic were dangerous. ”I don' t believe anyone was hurt. Some of the cages opened, but most of the animals stayed where they were.”

”I hope to G.o.d you're right,” a keeper said grimly. Flanked by two soldiers, he entered the curving walkway. As Simon followed, a young officer said, ”You shouldn't go in there, sir. Not till we know it's safe.”

”My wife ran in the opposite direction and I must find her,” Simon said, putting enough authority in his voice to silence the officer.

He expected to run into Meg as they followed the curving lion yard. Evidence of her handiwork was evident in the calm animals in their cages. Muttering prayers of grat.i.tude, the keeper used his key to secure the doors.

But of Meg there was no trace. Worried, Simon reached out, and couldn't find her mental signature. ”My wife isn't here,” he said through tight lips.

The soldiers exchanged a glance, then looked into the nearest cage.

”No! She can't have been caught by one of these beasts.” Simon swallowed hard, frightened by theblankness he found when he tried to touch her mind. ”There . . . there would be signs.”There weren't. No signs of Meg at all, anywhere in the Tower of London.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE.

Meg cried out as pain ripped through her. A familiar, loathed voice said, ”You're a sensitive little thing, Meggie. I'l widen the portal.” The pain vanished.

Dazed, Meg forced her eyes open and saw Drayton's evil face staring down at her. He was carrying her as if she were a limp doll. She wanted to strike him, but she couldn't move. She couldn't think.

He had placed her in thrall again. The spell suffocated, crus.h.i.+ng mind and body. Yet . . . not so much as before. Under the leaden weight of Drayton's magic was a spark of Meg, false Countess of Falconer.

”Here. Now that I'm home, I don't need to carry her myself.”

Meg s.h.i.+vered as she was transferred to someone else's arms. A strong, blank-faced footman. Was he also in thrall? She tried to use her magic to touch his mind. The effort was immense, like digging herself out of her own grave, but she was able to get some sense of the fellow. His name was Boxley, he found Drayton's household strange and somewhat alarming, but he stolidly did his job without questions. Stupid or enthralled? Some of both, Meg guessed. He had been bespelled enough not to wonder at the strange things he saw, but not so much as to render him useless as a servant.

”Once you're locked up, I'l lift the tangle spell so you can move again.” Drayton caressed her cheek with chilling affection. ”I have missed having you in my mind, Meggie. I have many reasons for hating Falconer, but his stealing you is the greatest. Now that I have you back, we'l not be separated again.” He rested his hand on her throat, his expression abstracted. ”And you are virgin yet. Excellent. Was Falconer such a cold stick, or did he really understand the power of your virginity? I think him a cold stick myself.” He dropped his hand and stepped back. ”Take her to the attics, Boxley. I'l be right behind you.”

The footman carried her along a plain hallway to the bottom of a flight of steps. He was starting to climb when Drayton said with irritation, ”Not the servants' stairs, you block! They're so narrow you'l be knocking her head and feet with every step. Use the front staircase.”

Wordlessly, the footman turned and headed along the corridor again. Drayton opened a door that let them into a grand front hall. The bouncing as she was carried up endless steps made Meg dizzy. When she saw how far she would fall if dropped, her heartbeat accelerated, but she still couldn't move.

Each flight of steps was narrower than the one before, and by the last, her feet and head were indeed banging on the walls. At least her paralysis also blocked pain.

At the top of the steps, they came into a bare, dim s.p.a.ce with a peaked ceiling and several doors. Boxley paused uncertainly.

Drayton arrived, panting from the four flights of steps. ”Now, where shall we put my Meggie? With the other one, I think. That's the most secure room. I wonder if you'l understand? Probably not. You're wearing your simpleton face again.”

He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door straight ahead. From her odd angle, Meg saw that a similar key hung on a nail beside the door. If this was a prison, it must be opened regularly to feed the prisoner.

Or prisoners. Boxley carried Meg into a narrow, whitewashed room with a slanted ceiling, a single bed, a chair and tiny table, and a washstand. A chamber pot sat in the corner. A small, curtainless window admitted light. It was a servant's room and the rag rug on the floor was the only concession to comfort.

”Put her on the bed. Just don't crush the other one,” Drayton ordered.

As the footman laid her on the bed, Meg realized that the rumpled covers next to her concealed a slender body. Surely this was the last thrall. A tingle of excitement burned away some of the fog that engulfed her brain.

”Before I release you, I want to taste your energy again,” Drayton murmured. As he stared down at her with avid eyes, she felt the hideously familiar violation of her mind. She tried to invoke the triple protection spell, without success. Since that was impossible, she tried a much simpler mental blow.

His eyes widened. ”The kitten has developed a bite. All the better. So kind of Falconer to train you for my service.” He skimmed a lazy hand down her body, over her shoulder and breast. ”Later, after my forum has achieved my goals, I shall decide whether it is worth losing your virgin power for the sake of possessing that sweet body. Rest now.” He straightened and made a swift gesture with his fingers before leading Boxley from the room.

As the key grated in the lock, Meg's paralysis vanished. She sat up and swung her legs to the floor, then almost collapsed as she tried to stand. Her muscles were shaking with reaction from having been immobilized. She spent several moments cautiously stretching her limbs before she tried to stand again.

This time she managed to stay upright before lurching to the washstand, which was three or four paces away. Blessedly, the pitcher was full of water. She felt better when she drank some, then splashed her face.

Turning, she surveyed her prison. The window was so small that even a child might not be able to climb through, and when she looked outside she viewed a sheer fall four stories to the flagstones of the back garden. There would be no escape that way.

As she studied the small room, she realized that even though her mind was clumsy and slow, it worked much better than during the ghastly years at Castle Drayton. She knew who she was and what her powers were, at least when they weren't suppressed. She knew that she had friends.

Simon. He must be frantic with worry. He might guess that Drayton had taken her, because the fiend had been so close, but would he be able to sense that she was alive behind the incredible wards that had hurt her as she entered? Even if he knew she was here, he couldn't come after her because of the transformation spell. Maybe Duncan Macrae could send a whirlwind to tear this evil house down.

Except he wouldn't-no Guardian would risk killing everyone in the household, especially if he wasn't sure she was here. Dratted ethics.

Finally she turned her attention to her companion. The other thrall lay on her side, facing the wall. With the blanket pulled over her, only a tangle of dark hair showed. Was the girl even alive? Yes, the faint rise and fall of the blanket proved that she breathed. Had thralldom put her into a deep sleep?

No, the girl was exhausted, Meg decided after studying her energy field. A monstrous amount of energy had been needed to open all the cages at the menagerie, and Drayton must have drawn that power from this child. No wonder she was drained of both magical power and normal human energy.

From the first time Meg had touched the thread that ran from Drayton to this girl, she had felt powerfully drawn to help. Having her mind and soul blunted hadn't changed that. A pity they were meeting in such circ.u.mstances.

She perched on the edge of the bed and pulled the blanket down, then turned the girl onto her back. She was pale, with dark circles under her eyes. Meg brushed the dark hair back, then froze.

Lying on the bed was . . . herself.

Gwynne Owens swept into the drawing room, her beautiful face concerned. ”We came as soon as we heard. Have you learned anything new about Meg?”

Simon shook his head. ”Nothing. No one seems to have seen her after the lions escaped. I've been scrying to see if I could locate her, but without success. My feelings are clouding my vision to the point where I don't know what I'm seeing.” It was a bitter admission for a man who had always prided himself on his cool objectivity.

Duncan, a step behind his wife, said, ”She can't have been eaten in five minutes without leaving a trace, so that eliminates the lions. Besides, I'm sure she could magic any great cat into lying on its back and waving its paws in the air for her.”

Gwynne settled into a chair, her skirts falling elegantly around her. She asked, ”Are you sure that her disappearance is due to Drayton?”

”Yes.” Simon rose and began to pace. ”And not only because he was at the Tower. My intuition is absolutely sure that Meg fell into his hands. I think he took advantage of the coincidence of us being nearby and approached to see if he might exploit the situation to his benefit. When he saw us in the lion yard, he realized it was a perfect way to distract us, since he knew we wouldn't allow innocent visitors to be mauled. A quick repulsion spell on the cage doors, and chaos was unleashed.”

”Jean said that Meg had learned a powerful triple protection spell,” Gwynne said. ”Would Drayton have been able to overcome that?”

”If he reached her before she could invoke it, he wouldn't have had to.” Simon's mouth twisted humorlessly. ”When confronting lions, it's easy to overlook the jackal at one's back.”

”One must consider the river,” Duncan said soberly. ”It's right there, after all.”

Simon understood what his friend wasn't quite saying. ”With a strong don't-look spell to protect him, it would be simple enough for Drayton to put her in the river, but he wouldn't kill her. Not only would he hate to waste someone with so much power, but he's obsessed with her personally. He wouldn't harm her unless he was absolutely certain she could never be his.”

”She will never really be his,” Gwynne said quietly. ”She hates him to the bottom of her soul.”

”It isn't her soul that he wants. It's her magic and her body, and those he can have by controlling her mind.” Simon stopped his pacing at the window, staring in the direction of Drayton House. ”She said she would rather be dead than enthralled again.”