Three Graces: a 1940s fantasy novella: Land Mysteries, #6

Chapter 1

LIZZIE, MAY 10TH, 1945 AT YTENE

P ort? Geoffrey stood by the decanter, glancing over. Lizzie had just settled into the chair in the library. Supper this evening had been intimate, just for four. Benton, Geoffrey’s steward and right-hand man, had joined the three of them for supper. Quite reasonably, though, he had gone off to join his wife afterwards, when she came back from a bit of volunteering in Trellech. It had been good to get Lap out of his office in London, get a proper meal into him. Cook was a wonder, even with rationing. Their home farm was going well enough, thankfully. They had eggs in profusion, and they’d been glad to use up a bit of the meat ration on this supper.

Lapidoth Manse snorted. He’d begun as Geoffrey’s friend, before he became Geoffrey’s - and then Lizzie’s - intelligence handler. As if I’d turn down your port. It wasn’t just the food that had let him relax a little, of course, but also the news of the war. Lap had been focused on continental Europe for decades now. He’d seen the spreading horrors of the Great War turn into the spats and privations and rise of fascism that led into the second. He’d been frantically juggling information like sharp knives all along.

Tonight had been a chance for a bit of a breather, after Victory in Europe day, a bare two days ago. Lizzie felt honoured he trusted them enough to take that breather here. Mind, the wards at Ytene, especially here in the library, were among the best in Albion. Geoffrey and Alexander had seen to that, and brought in experts from among their friends to make sure of it. It made the room feel quiet, now. It wasn’t the stifled quiet of disapproval, but rather a comfortable quiet, at least from the inside, like a thick blanket that kept out the world.

Geoffrey brought Lizzie her glass first, then handed one to Lap, before returning to gather his own. To the end of war, and the coming chance to rebuild.

Lap lifted his glass and took a sip - his manners, magical and otherwise, were impeccable. You’re saying you’ll go, then. It wasn’t a question. They’d been talking around it at supper, because there were listening ears there. Some things weren’t for the staff to overhear, no matter how much Lizzie and Geoffrey trusted them. Lap normally kept business and pleasure strictly distinct, but it wasn’t as if they were going to get another chance to talk comfortably in the coming weeks.

Can’t not. Geoffrey said it lightly, but that was the sort of lightly that made Lizzie focus on him entirely for a few breaths. He had been frustrated, she knew, about the fact he’d spent this war going to and fro, tending the land, smoothing out problems. And he’d been doing it not just for the north half of the New Forest, Ytene’s demesne lands, but for the southern half, as well. The current Lord was their daughter Merry’s age, finishing up his third year at Schola. Geoffrey had taken that on, as apparently effortlessly as he did near everything else. Lizzie knew how much it was costing him in terms of time and focus and magic. That was before she got into all his work with the Home Guard, or the analysis and magical support he’d been doing behind the scenes.

Lap just raised an eyebrow and waited. Lizzie liked that about him, the way he used his words sparingly and listened, paying attention to all the subtle information. Of course, a waiting silence was also more likely to get Geoffrey to talk than a question, at least among friends.

Geoffrey snorted, and went on. I’d like three of us - four, come middle of June - to take on working out what needs doing. Not solving it, necessarily, but getting things safe to take more time with. Build a list of priorities and defuse the most immediate dangers. He and Lizzie had talked this through, and with the other two involved, of course. It would leave her at home. She’d be on her own with Edmund, their eldest, to handle the land magic and all the necessities of tenants and whatever other needs cropped up. She wanted to go with him, but for one, someone had to keep an eye on their lands, especially with Benton gone as well. And for another, those weren’t her skills, and she knew it.

There were other plans in the works - Lizzie knew that the Penelopes had their own project in mind, as specialists in a different range of magic. The idea was that Geoffrey, Benton, and Alexander would focus on the sites where ritual magics needed tending, before they caused even more problems. It suited their respective skills and hard-won expertise. And the truth was that it would do Geoffrey wondrous good to go do that work with Alexander, and to be out in the field again with Benton. They had plans to pull in Isembard as soon as he was done teaching at Schola.

Lap considered. You. Benton, of course, couldn’t separate you if I tried, even now. Geoffrey grinned at that. Landry, then? That was Alexander, and Geoffrey nodded just once. The Council would let him go abroad for an extended period? I know he had a few visits here and there.

Mmm hmm. They’d like someone on the ground to evaluate. He confirmed it after yesterday’s meeting, that’s why he’s not here for supper. He’s working up a list at the Council Keep about where they’d particularly like some eyes. And Isembard Fortier, rounding out protective magics, when he’s done in mid-June.

Lizzie added, mildly. More than one of the Council, actually, though Gabriel Edgarton will be wearing his hat as a Penelope. They have plans for spot resolution, building up a list of what needs more attention. I expect there will be a notice to your office within a few days. Last I heard, they were still sorting out exactly where they wanted to start. Strictly speaking, Lap wasn’t in their line of command. Though to be fair to Gabe, he was apparently reasonably informative about when his sphere of activity overlapped with MI6. Or for that matter, MI5 or any of the other secretive intelligence sorts.

You know there’s no arguing with you on the skills. And the Penelopes don’t get approved by my lot, you know that, though I do appreciate whatever advance notice I can get so I can keep from treading on their toes. Do encourage that. Lap steepled his fingers after he set his glass down. What do you need from me?

Pointers about where to start. There’s a whole mess in Paris, and we’ll probably go through there, to see what’s what. We need a week to prepare, get the materia and such together, the tinctures for testing. Rathna Edgarton has some thoughts about the Salles des Portes. Or at least how to get the information needed in a sensible way to figure out if there’s any hope of repair. More likely, whether they’ve got to figure out where to grow a new portal that’s not miles from Paris.

Versailles. Lap offered it, entirely joking.

Lizzie tsked. There were apparently attempts at one, when the palace was built. It spluttered out at the death of Madame de Pompadour. Even beyond that, apparently the magical structures are in bad shape and rather badly made, like - well, apparently a bit like the chaos of the rest of the palace. I’m sure there’s some tale there. I had no idea until Rathna dug up some notes. Anyway, she and her apprentice, they’ll do some good figuring out something. And as noted, her husband will be over there. She waved her hand. My esteemed husband and company have an eye on the more dangerous lurking magics, as I’m sure you expected they would.

It would make me feel a lot better to know who was looking at it. Anyone I know from the Penelopes besides Edgarton? Lap asked it almost idly.

Lizzie knew who, and her mouth quirked. Me to know, you to find out. Some of the relevant family doesn’t know yet. Or at least, Lizzie hadn’t had confirmation of that yet.

I will have to think of appropriate inducements when you feel you can pass along the information then. Dangle some analysis in front of you. Lap was indeed deeply relaxed. He hadn’t managed the energy for teasing for years.

Lizzie grinned at him. You do know how to bribe me within the standards of our respective interests and ethics. And I know you like a challenge. Then she added, considering. I could use something to keep me busy.

I’d have thought you had plenty. Lap said, picking up his glass again and taking a sip. The usual, I’m assuming.

Geoffrey nodded. Land magic, the estate, our various other interests. Intelligence work having been somewhat on hiatus, considering, but Alexander and the various machinations and upheavals of the Council fill in there. They’re likely to have a couple of retirements this year, if things wind down with the war. No, not telling you who, yet.

Alexander certainly had some ideas about that, people who’d hung on as long as they had because of the war. Too much change wasn’t going to be good for anyone or for the land. He thought there might be two or three vacancies when the war ended, and likely another couple the year after, when things had properly settled down. And who knew if there’d be sudden illnesses or needs beyond that.

Geoffrey added, I was hoping we might get a little more on that question of Temple yet.

Lap frowned. Catch me up on where that was? I know you told me what, three years ago?

But there’s been a tremendous amount of information in and out of your head since then. Even three weeks ago. Though, to be fair, it had been an exceedingly eventful three weeks, encompassing the fall of Berlin, Hitler’s suicide, the capture of a number of leading Nazis, and the eventual surrender of Germany. Lizzie glanced at her husband. Go ahead, Geoffrey?

Domina. The endearment was warm, and he turned his palm up. We know more than we did about how my brother was killed. Not just the mechanics of his death. That had been 1922, before Lizzie and Geoffrey had met. Temple’s death had brought Geoffrey back to Albion to take up the magical title and figure out what had happened. It was done by the Council, not that I got confirmation of that until taking up with Alexander. It was a signal sign of how Geoffrey trusted Lap, to use that particular and more intimate phrasing. Though having seen Geoffrey and Alexander together, it was an interesting question who took up with whom. But we still don’t know why.

And you had someone working on that. Lap agreed. Though I don’t know if you’ve mentioned the name to me.

Geoffrey was unsettled enough to look away for a moment. This topic got him like that, near enough the heart. He’d likely have a nightmare tonight. Lizzie could see the little subtle signs, and she’d be ready to deal with it. She’d warn Alexander, too, if he made it home later this evening. They had practice, the both of them. I made a trade with Gabriel Edgarton for his expertise. He’s had more than a bit of luck, given how many other things he’s doing. But the last bit got us to a stalemate.

Lap leaned forward, suddenly, before he set the glass aside again. It was suddenly avid, the way he usually hid deep down. Tell me, would you? His voice had an edge she hadn’t heard before.

I asked him if he could figure out what happened to Temple, what broke his sense of the land magic. There’s almost nothing in writing, either from Temple or from Delphina. Temple’s wife had died a bare few days before him, both of them from poison. It had been a rather botched job, all round. It was made all the more awful because it wasn’t clear for so long why, or whether the Council had any cause at all.

Geoffrey took a sip of his port, a respectfully slow one, before going on. He found - I have no idea how, they weren’t in the household receipts at all - some records that suggested Temple had been buying a whole series of quack potions. You know the sort of thing. These were meant to help mend the land sense. There were dozens of them floating about, near every dubious alchemist had one. Most of them were harmless, except to one’s self-respect. You know the sort of thing, coloured water with a bit of flavour. Anise, apparently, particularly, people have opinions about it, though certainly it’s not materia I’d associate with the land magic.

No. Lap flicked his fingers. Good for digestion, though, and a number of other things along those lines that might actually help. Though you can kill someone with enough liquorice. He looked up. And?

And there we sort of hit a dead end. Gabe had some sources for the potions, but only enough for guesswork. I can’t get leverage to figure out who Temple was working with, it’s the wrong set of people for me to have an in. Or you, for that matter. All Ministry folks, as far as we can tell, but nothing anyone would talk about.

Lap suddenly sat up. I might know someone. I don’t know if he’ll talk to you, either of you. Or anyone, for that matter, he’s been rather resistant to talking about that period, in general, other than in the broadest terms.

Anyone I know? Geoffrey’s voice had a false lightness now, and Lizzie knew Lap would hear it near as quickly as she did.

Know of, yes. Not sure you’ve ever met. Quite possibly not. He’s fond of books, but newer than your incunabula, and he’s not interested in pavo at all. Which, to be fair, took up a lot of Geoffrey’s time - the estate’s time, given their horse breeding and training stables - even when there wasn’t a war. Lap hesitated for just a few seconds. Let me ask him. I know he’s in the country. If he’ll speak with someone, I’ll send a note round.

Couldn’t ask for anything more fair. There was the odd note again, but Geoffrey was smiling. I appreciate it.

An hour later, when they’d seen Lap off at the portal, Lizzie nudged Geoffrey straight upstairs, rather than another hour reading in the library before retiring