Spellbreaker (Spellbreaker Duology, #1)(10)
“Two and five for both,” she answered, purposefully choosing a low number.
The cook’s eyes bugged. “Two and five? Don’t you know what—never mind. Wait right here.”
She turned around, leaving the door ajar. Inside was a narrow room lined with hooks. A pair of dirty boots sat on the floor. Beyond that, Elsie could just see the opening of a pantry on one side and a kitchen on the other. She thought she felt a tingle cross her face as she leaned in—was there a rational spell nearby, or was that just nerves? Perhaps the duke had a large illusion on display in a nearby room, or someone could be using a mental spell to keep their memory sharp. In a place as rich as this one, spells were likely to abound.
Setting her basket down, Elsie glanced over her shoulder for the wash girl. She’d vanished. Footsteps sounded deeper within the house. Nearby, a horse nickered.
Taking half a step back, Elsie put both hands on the enchanted doorknob. It was a small physical spell, but not a simple one. A knot made of light instead of rope, pulled tightly together. It was a bright white at its center, twinkling like a shy star, and slightly blue around the edges. Her eyes unfocused a bit as she found the start. The spell resisted her—it was well made. An intermediate spell formed by a master’s hands. She loosened the rune and picked it apart string by string until it ceased to exist, fizzling out like the last sparks of a firework.
The cook returned moments later with a cheery disposition. She handed over three gold coins. “I’ll take both bottles and a wedge of that cheese.” She pointed to the paler option.
Elsie handed the goods over and thanked the cook, who had no idea she’d been liberated. Soon enough, that cheery disposition would be genuine, not the fleeting excitement of having nabbed a good price on wine.
It would likely take a few days before Elsie’s work was discovered. It wouldn’t be reported in the newspapers or shouted from the rooftops, but prestige had never been the goal.
Feeling accomplished, Elsie swung her much lighter basket at her side and left the estate grounds.
She hoped the Cowls were watching.
CHAPTER 4
The London Physical Atheneum was one of the most eye-catching, prestigious, and ancient buildings in England. Built in medieval times, it looked something like a mix between a castle and a university. In a sense, it was both. It boasted the largest aspector library in the world. The immense windows were fitted with enchanted glass to protect the spells inside and prevent them from leaving without the proper permissions.
Bacchus had left John and Rainer in Kent and excused his driver. A few people milled about the meticulous grounds, complete with gardens that even the queen could envy. Only one seemed to notice him. Bacchus did not maintain eye contact. Impressing this man was not his agenda today.
The atheneum grew ever larger as Bacchus approached, and if he hadn’t known any better, he would have accused the walkway of lengthening as he strode down it. He knew spells for enlarging objects, but none of them would work on such a path, not without ripping the stones from the ground. No, this was merely his nerves. Bacchus wasn’t used to nerves. He berated them with a soft growl, but at least they lent him energy.
Two sentries stood guard at the heavy double doors at the entrance of the grand library. Bacchus nodded to them and gave his name. He half expected to be turned away, but fortunately the guards had been alerted to his visit. They opened the right door and allowed him inside.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust from the bright morning to the darker interior. Rugs and tapestries masked swathes of stone walls and floors, but a soft chill permeated the air. Bacchus felt a bit like a time traveler; the modernizations in the place were minimal.
Beyond the short antechamber stretched a long table, adorned only by elaborate silver candlesticks the style of which matched the low-hanging chandeliers above them, their tips glowing with intermediate light spells. Short rows of books lined the far walls, broken up by woven art. That chamber ended in an archway, and the true library started beyond it. Immense shelves stuffed with tomes that gave way to shadow. He thought he caught faint whispering echoing between the stonework.
Bacchus took a step forward, only to have one of the sentries raise his hand, urging him to wait. Bacchus let his impatience drain down his arms and into his hands, where he crushed it with tight fists. After a few minutes, a new guard came around the corner—there must have been a hidden hallway in the chandelier room.
“Mr. Bacchus Kelsey?” the man asked, looking Bacchus up and down.
Bacchus nodded.
“Your court is ready. Please follow me.”
Bacchus did so without word. Court. Do they think themselves kings, or am I about to be sentenced?
They took a corridor circumventing the library and passed through a small room lined with bookshelves, several acolytes buried in their work. Lamps hovered without cords, likely bespelled by teachers to keep the light where it was needed. But there wasn’t time to notice anything else, for Bacchus and his guide were already cutting through another massive room with a high ceiling, poorly lit, approaching a wide and winding set of stairs. They were old but in excellent repair, which likely meant they’d been hardened and bullied to hold their shape with magic. Perhaps a temporal magician had been hired to remove centuries of wear, but Bacchus suspected the heads of the Physical Atheneum were too proud to ask for help from another alignment.