* * *
The north country was more beautiful than Cassia could have imagined. Great stone cliffs met large root-exposed trees. Moss covered every inch of the forested ground, casting a lush carpet of green everywhere, which pleased the eye.
They had stopped the carriage to stretch their legs. “I cannot thank you enough, Aunt, for letting me come.” Cassia sighed and leaned her back against a tree. “I feel so much peace here! My spirits have never been better.”
Her uncle raised an eyebrow toward her. “The northern counties do hold much charm, as well as much magic.”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Gareth, piping up. “The ley line this road follows is quite strong.”
Cassia ran her hand over the mossy side of one tree. Was it possible that being near a ley line made her feel different? That somehow, in some way, she had magic like Gynelle did? She noticed then that the tingling, warm sensation she had felt in the woods with Ember seemed to be back, deep inside of her. But she only felt it if she really focused on it. She would have to see if the feeling increased.
It was refreshing that her aunt and uncle even spoke of magic and ley lines. Her father would have never mentioned such a fact. She strolled toward a river, stepping over a log, still in view of the carriage. Her father had always praised Gynelle’s temperament, but never said anything more. Then Cassia remembered herself once when she was almost twelve, when Alyria had stolen her favorite doll. Cassia had charged after her, but when she put her hands out Alyria had almost seemed to glide backward. The same reflecting motion had happened when her mother once scolded her for ruining a dress by walking in the rain. Cassia’s anger seemed to push her mother farther from her, just a little. Had she used some kind of power at those times?
Thinking further, had her father noticed the signs of his daughters’ abilities, but said nothing of them? Or tried to hide them?
Now was her time to discover who she really was and what she could be. Here, in Derbyshire, she’d pay attention. Maybe she did have some magic after all.
“Cassia, we ought to be going,” called Mrs. Gareth. Once on the road again, her aunt smiled. “Shall we travel north and see the estates there? Many of the great houses are open for viewing, Pemberley among them.”
Cassia’s came out of her introspection and into worry. She couldn’t bear seeing Darkwood, not now. What did he think of her? And she had so much to figure out about herself as it was. She twisted the side seam of her gown. “I am not sure I am up for it.”
“Truly?” her aunt’s face fell. “It is my favorite of all the great houses. We shall arrive in the heart of Derbyshire by tomorrow afternoon, so I was hoping you’d be well enough by the following morning.”
“I do not wish to intrude on someone else’s home,” Cassia protested.
“Oh, High Mage Darkwood is never at home! I’ll inquire at the inn once we arrive, but I am sure of it.” Her aunt’s bonnet bobbed definitively.
Cassia sunk back into the plush squabs of the carriage, feeling a weight lift. If he weren’t there and she had heard so much of his woods—she delighted in the idea of actually visiting them. And Ember...maybe somehow being near him would help her learn who she really was.
She sighed. “I suppose, if the family is truly not in residence, we could see it.”
Her aunt beamed and her uncle clapped his hands.
* * *
After a few tedious weeks in London, an unusual tapping sounded at Gaius’ large glass doors. Mage Blythesome always gave him a room with a balcony, and tonight was stormy, so in his tired stupor Gaius imagined a branch hitting against it.
But when the sound persisted he finally went to the window. A large silhouette started to register through his groggy eyes. Wings.
Gaius tore open the window and stepped quickly to the dragon perched on the ledge. “What is it, boy? Have you found my relic?”
Ember seemed out of breath, like he had flown a great distance. He dipped his head and let out a gust.
Gaius ran his hand over the bluish scales on the dragon’s neck. Now, fully awake, he closed his eyes and concentrated.
Pemberley. Now.
“Is something wrong with Athelia? Is she safe?” Gaius nearly screamed it at the dragon.
Safe. Go now. No relic.
At this, the dragon pulled off the balcony, and started flying in a north-easterly direction. He let out a large gust of blue-purple fire.
Gaius must have woken his friend with his loud inquiry, for Blythesome, in his night clothes, suddenly appeared at his door.
“I must away to Pemberley this instant. But you are still welcome to come in a few days as we planned.” Gaius left the room and tore down the hall.
One hundred scenarios ran through Gaius’ mind as he rode the two-day carriage distance to Pemberley in a single dash by horse. If it wasn’t for Athelia, or the relic, what could possibly be so urgent? But Ember had impressed the importance of immediate action upon his mind.
