Dagger Magic

"Well - all manner of things," he said lamely, hoping he didn't sound as defensive as he felt. "History, antiques, objects d'art…"

As his voice trailed off, Julia gave him a dubious look.

"I suppose that's true enough," she said quietly. "Only I get the distinct feeling that for you, pursuing these interests is practically a vocation."

Peregrine gave a hollow laugh. "I suppose that being an artist does constitute a vocation - something you're called to do, as opposed to something you just do to make a living."

"No, it isn't just that," Julia said. "I know the difference between inspiration and - fascination, fixation. For instance, when we were going through the museum this morning, you stopped just outside one of those reconstructed gothic arches, and your eyes went all funny - sort of wide and vacant, but at the same time penetrating - as if you were looking at something far, far away."

He shrugged. "I guess I was distracted for a moment." "Distracted? I suppose you could call it that. But it isn't the first time I've seen that look in your eyes - and it isn't just an artist's way of looking at things. You get it almost every time we visit a museum or a monument. It always gives me the feeling that your perceptions aren't necessarily limited to the present time and place."

"You know that I'm an incurable romantic," he said uneasily. "Lots of artists get their inspiration from the past."

"No, this is different," she insisted. "I'll give you another example. That old tower house that Adam is restoring - the last time we rode out there with him, I accidentally overheard the two off you discussing how to decorate the laird's bedroom. He wanted to know if the original ceiling had been painted, and you said yes, it had, with garlands of flowers interspersed with verses taken from the Book of Proverbs. And you were able to tell him which ones, chapter and verse."

She stopped short and looked at him expectantly, and Peregrine knew that only the truth would now suffice - or at least a portion of it. He poked at a chunk of steak with his fork, chasing it into a pool of congealing gravy.

"What you're really wanting to know," he said quietly, not looking at her, "is, have I got some kind of special psychic ability. The answer is yes. Yes, I do."

He could hear her little gasp, but he dared not look up at her as he went on.

"My particular gift is being able to 'See' things - visual echoes - resonances, if you like - from other periods in time. As an artist, I'm sometimes able to draw what I 'See' in this manner. When it first started happening, it scared the hell out of me. That was shortly before I met you.

"But then your sainted godmother introduced me to Adam. I don't think she had any inkling what was happening, but she knew something was wrong and thought he might be able to help me - and she was right. But I didn't go to him until after she'd died, and I was feeling almost suicidal.

You see, I'd foreseen her death, and a part of me was afraid that I'd somehow caused it."

"But you couldn't have!" Julia breathed. "She had cancer, Peregrine."

"I know that now," he murmured, finally looking up at her, "but at the time, I was convinced there was some kind of causal connection. Anyway, Adam helped me pick up the pieces, and reassured me that what I had was a gift, not a curse. He taught me to control it, to use it in conjunction with my ability as an artist - and that ability now gives me the means to direct and control what I 'See.' '

"So now you don't mind Seeing things anymore?"

"Not most of the time. Sometimes it's useful."

"For instance, in the investigation of a crime." It wasn't a question. Lacing her slim fingers together in front of her, Julia leaned forward on her elbows. "Is that what you're doing when you go out with Adam and Noel? Are they psychic, too?"

"Their talents differ from mine," Peregrine said reluctantly, "but yes, on both counts."

"And they use their abilities to solve mysteries that no one else can solve?"

"When the need arises."

"Psychic investigators." She quirked him an uneasy grin. "It sounds like something out of an old Hammer horror film." Levelling a penetrating look at her husband, she asked, "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"Perhaps I should have done," Peregrine admitted. "But a lot of what we do has got to be kept confidential."

"Don't you trust me to keep a secret?"

"Of course I do - as far as my secrets are concerned," he replied. "But some of the secrets we're talking about aren't mine to disclose. Artists are allowed certain eccentricities - we're almost expected to be a little fey - but if either Noel or Adam became publicly connected with some of the things we're obliged to do, the methods we use - well, you can probably imagine the hue and cry that would be raised. Professionally speaking, they'd both be ruined."

She stared at him for a long moment, taking it all in, then ventured, "You aren't doing anything - illegal, are you?"