Bad news, dearest, she sent, along with an image of all she had learned.
Shock, dismay, and then abrupt anger. And then silence, as Cerridwen took wing.
Poor Cerridwen.
But that was the least of Elizabeth’s problems. “This means Napoleon will be returning to Paris soon,” she said, her eyes fixed on Darcy. Was it already too late to take her vows and get a boon to help him escape?
“It seems likely,” he said quietly.
Roderick wiped his forefinger with a handkerchief that came away stained with red. “Darcy, do you have an atlas where I can find the location of this attack? Rowan wishes to pinpoint which Nests are nearest to the battlefield, but I do not know where this place may be.” He glanced at the newspaper, “Kleinreith, they call it.”
“Yes, in the library. Are there so many dragon Nests in Austria that he is uncertain?”
“In the Alps, yes. More than here, at least.” The Welshman paused, listening. “Rowan asks if he may come here to see the newspaper article with his own eyes, but he will not do so without your permission.”
Darcy’s eyebrows shot up. “Dragons canread?”
“Of course,” said Granny irritably.
“Then he may come, I suppose, but it would be better if he took a different form, at least where others can see. The staff may already be hearing this news, and the sight of a strange dragon might frighten them.”
“I will tell him so.”
Darcy frowned. “How are you communicating with him? The Nest is too far for a sending.”
Roderick touched the pendant which now hung outside his cravat. “This Artifact allows it, even at a distance. Rowan gave it to me so he could contact me about Mrs. Darcy, but it works in reverse, at least when I give it a drop of my blood.”
Elizabeth studied the pendant. There it was, right before her, a complex Artifact made by the dragons. Something like that could make all the difference for Darcy when he was in France. She had meant to ask Roderick about the purpose of the gift sooner, but it had slipped her mind. It seemed impossible that it had been only a week since she first met Rowan.
Everything was happening too quickly, and there was still so much which she did not understand. And, thanks to Napoleon, she was running out of time.
The news from Austria hung over them like a heavy storm cloud. Even the servants were affected, tiptoeing as if a dragon attack on Pemberley might materialize at any moment. The war had always seemed very far away for them, but this had brought it close to home.
Elizabeth had requested a shortened dinner with only one remove instead of the usual two. With everyone in low spirits, there seemed to be an embargo on every subject of discussion that might provide distraction. How could they chat about the weather and other pleasantries when their world was falling apart?
Instead of the ladies withdrawing, the entire party moved to the drawing room. Elizabeth, unable to bear her helplessness, immediately sat down to her handwork. At least the bit of Talent-infused fabric in her hands might have a chance of helping to put an end to Napoleon’s depredations.
“Are you certain you will not play, Lizzy?” Granny asked. “You were sewing all afternoon.” The rustling of card shuffling came from the table where Roderick and Darcy had joined her in a game of loo, a courtesy to the old lady’s love of the game.
“No, I thank you.” She jabbed the needle into the fabric. It was already blood-spotted where she had pricked her tired fingers, but the appearance of her work no longer mattered. Only getting it done. Perhaps the blood would even help.
She hoped Mrs. Reynolds would find her a spinning wheel soon. At least spinning used different muscles. And she needed to purchase any other Talent-entwined fabric the mysterious midwife might have.
At the familiar tapping of a beak, Roderick tossed down his cards and went to the window to open it. The kestrel glided in and landed on the floor beside Elizabeth.
Close the doors, Cerridwen sent to her.
Elizabeth hurried to do so, and the falcon blurred into her true shape.
Cerridwen settled her glistening wings. “Is there any more news?”
“Nothing yet. We can only receive information from letters in the post and the newspapers, which are already two days old when they arrive.” So many everyday things she had never explained to Cerridwen, back when she believed her to be only a magical falcon.
“You must tell me at once if you learn anything.”
Elizabeth said, “I will. But what of the dragons at the Nest? Do they believe us this time, or do they still think we are mistaken?”
A puff of acrid smoke came from Cerridwen’s nostrils. “They know the truth. We just received word that a dragon came through the Gate at a North African Nest carrying dozens of eggs. They recognized her as one of their own who had been gated to an Austrian nest as a hatchling.”
