It was natural for Redmond to crave recognition, but he needed a reminder of what was important. “Our skills may not be as glamorous, Redmond, but they are powerful and effective against our enemies.” It was not an exaggeration. “Mirror magic may be spectacular, but its applications are limited at this point.”
Then, thinking he might sound dismissive, he added, "Mirror magic has tremendous potential, but we are not at a point where we know what to do with it."
Redmond sighed. “I suppose so. But transporting oneself through a mirror is an astonishing feat.”
Darcy recalled the first time Riquer had demonstrated his mastery of Mirror magic. He had astonished the Council by arriving through the mirror above the fireplace, right in the middle of a private Council meeting.
“It is. No doubt about it. Riquer has used it in the past to excellent effect. Unfortunately, there are practical limitations. Walking around carrying a looking glass with you everywhere you go is complicated and dangerous. Communicating with someone else requires looking at a mirror constantly. Traveling long distances using a mirror is a risk. You could arrive in the wrong place. It is still a crude weapon at this point.”
Redmond grinned. “Still, I would love to be able to master it, and I am sure you would, too. You are jealous. Admit it.”
Only his Janus Twin could speak to him like that and get away with it. "Of course, I would love to learn Mirror magic. So would everyone else around us."
"I am going to ask Mrs. Darcy to teach me," he said, standing up.
Well, it was a vast improvement. At least Redmond now respected what Elizabeth had to offer.
As Redmond left, Darcy’s gaze turned to Elizabeth and bit down a curse. While Darcy was speaking to his Twin, Lord Devereux had pushed his way past the apprentices and was standing next to Elizabeth. Devereux was a pompous bully who was vocal in his contempt for Elizabeth. After Devereux insulted her in public when they were in Netherfield, Darcy had challenged him to a duel. The memory of that painful fight was still fresh in his mind. Devereux had almost killed him.
Trouble was brewing. Darcy pushed his chair back and strode forward, ready to confront Devereux. He gritted his teeth as Devereux said something and Elizabeth’s expression grew stormy.
Then suddenly, Riquer turned around and threw up the wooden ball. Elizabeth raised her mirror instinctively in response. The milky surface of the mirror distorted and drew in the ball. The apprentices who witnessed it close up surged forward to look for the ball in the mirror, shoving and elbowing each other to get a better view. Meanwhile, Elizabeth had already forgotten about Devereux. She was laughing as the younger ones reached out to touch the mirror and encountered a hard glass surface.
Devereux moved away from the press of bodies, a sneer on his face. The distraction had served its purpose. Darcy returned to his seat, glad Elizabeth had not needed his assistance, though he would have happily planted a fist in Devereux’s face. Riquer had been paying attention to what Elizabeth was doing. He had immediately stepped in to stop a potentially unpleasant scene. Reluctantly, Darcy conceded that the intervention was handled very smoothly, but he felt a strange twisting sensation in his stomach. He would not have handled it so well.
The event brought out the simmering sense of dissatisfaction he had been experiencing since they had returned to Founders’ Hall. Darcy and Elizabeth were barely spending any time alone with each other. Their days were filled with a relentless process of drilling, instructing and Council Meetings at night. Even during their early morning training sessions, Redmond was always present.
Since he had appointed her as one of his advisors after her heroic actions, the Prince Regent had taken a personal interest in Elizabeth’s advancement in Mirror magic. He had decreed that Mirror magic should be taught at Founder’s Hall to asmany apprentices as possible. He was invested in setting up a whole division of Mirror mages. Easier said than done. Between them, Elizabeth and Riquer had worked hard to produce several simple spells to be added to the Compendium of Spells, the book that all the mages in the Kingdom studied. Unfortunately, so far, they had not identified any apprentices at Founder’s Hall with a natural Talent in this area. They were now involved in a search for apprentices at nearby academies. In addition to this, Elizabeth was under pressure to learn Mirror magic as quickly as possible.
So, between testing apprentices from other academies, teaching elementary spells, developing her own skills at Mirror magic, and her training with him and Redmond as a Janus mage, Elizabeth had no time to herself. And precious little time to spend with him.
There was only so much a man could take. What was the point of being married? He spent his nights dreaming of the day when they could finally be together. It had been more than a year, yet they were no closer to being properly married than they had been at the beginning.
Seeing her constantly while knowing he could not have her was a burning torment. He hated the constant battle to conquer his need for her. At the beginning, he had thought himself perfectly capable of overcoming it, but it had a terrible habit of suddenly gripping him by the throat and bringing him to his knees.
As if sensing his thoughts, Elizabeth suddenly looked over to where he was standing, sparing a moment for him amid all the admiration, and his heart glowed with the warmth of her gaze. Every muscle ached with the strain of preventing himself from running to her and enfolding her in his arms.
The moment did not last. A young apprentice addressed her, and Elizabeth looked away, leaving Darcy with a sense of lonelyemptiness. He drew in a deep breath, tugging at his neckcloth, and trying to rid himself of the despair. Suddenly he could not bear to be in the room a moment longer. He felt hemmed in, unable to breathe. He needed fresh air.
Just in time. As Darcy reached the edge of the Great Hall, Lord Matlock's voice rang out, asking for silence. The apprentice exhibitions were about to start. Darcy had no intention of attending. He needed time to himself.
As he reached the doorway, he stopped a footman and requested him to fetch a plate of food from the kitchen for Elizabeth. Having expended so much magical effort, Elizabeth would be hungry and exhausted, and they would not be serving dinner until all the other demonstrations were completed. Darcy then made his way to the castle entrance, and stepped out into the darkness, allowing it to envelop him.
Sometime later, Darcy was roused from his thoughts when the strike of a foot against gravel alerted him to the presence of someone else. That would hardly be unusual, since there were soldiers and mages patrolling the grounds. What immediately aroused Darcy’s suspicion however, was that the person was a mage, and they were using a Cloaking spell.
Darcy went completely still, trying to make out where the other mage was positioned. There was no moonlight, but a faint candlelight from inside revealed a figure heading towards the trees. All Darcy’s senses went into full awareness, his skin prickling, his magic gathering in preparation for a spell. For the second time tonight, he considered that the Prince Regent’s presence at Founder’s Hall made the hall a target.
Darcy followed stealthily, regretting that his ability to stalk someone silently was rusty from lack of training. Sticking to the grass so his footsteps could not be heard, he skirted the area where the intruder had gone. Once he reached the trees, he darted behind them, watching for any sign of movement.
It did not take long for Darcy to find the cloaked mage. The sound of men’s voices reached him. He drew closer, then stopped suddenly. It was Riquer’s voice, and he was speaking in French.
Darcy froze and he struggled with the implications. Who was Riquer speaking to? There was no sign of another man. The voice was muffled. Riquer must be communicating through his mirror. What was Riquer up to? Was it possible he was still in communication with the Imperial Mages?
The image of the wooden ball rushing towards the Prince Regent popped into Darcy’s head. Could Riquer be plotting a French attack?
A sense of urgency gripped him. Darcy recited an enhancement spell so he could hear what Riquer was saying, but Riquer’s Cloaking spell prevented it. He tried to listen for familiar words so he could at least guess the topic of the conversation, but it was useless.
He stood there for some time, his pulse thundering in his ears. Was the Hall in immediate danger? Should he raise the alarm right now? He was torn. Could Riquer really be such a traitor? What if Darcy sounded the alarm, sending everyone into panic, and it turned out to be nothing?
