Spellbreaker

Why was it that every time Elsie returned to the Duke of Kent’s estate, it seemed to have grown larger in her absence? When she stood before it now, it appeared as foreboding as a castle.

It had not been difficult to get away; Ogden was busy again at the squire’s estate—something that tempted Elsie’s thoughts to return to the mysterious Mr. Parker—and Emmeline was so focused on her chores she often didn’t notice when Elsie left the house. After completing her deliveries and taking stock of supplies in the masonry shop, Elsie had brought the financial ledgers with her and finished them in the carriage, albeit with shaky penmanship. She would do her work for Mr. Kelsey and return swiftly, staying up late to sharpen the sculptor tools Ogden would need for his work at the squire’s house. She’d still get enough sleep to function, and none would be the wiser. Perhaps she’d be so useful Mr. Kelsey would excuse her after her first day.

That certainly sounded fictional, even to her.

If Mr. Parker knew of her predicament, would he swoop in and save her?

Of course, she didn’t know he was a Cowl. She couldn’t tell him anything. Not yet.

She entered the grounds as she had the first time—through the front gate. The duke was neither a king nor an aspector; he didn’t post guards, though he did have a number of footmen about. She didn’t see any people at all as she trudged around to the servants’ door, which was for the better. Whatever Mr. Kelsey had planned for her, she couldn’t let anyone else, even a scullery maid, know what she was.

She knocked, noticing with dismay that her hard work had already been undone. The enchantment had been returned to the doorknob, though it was currently inactive. A few seconds passed before a girl—the one with the washbasin from before?—peeked out, only to instantly close the door in Elsie’s face. Gritting her teeth together, Elsie waited a full minute, then another, before lifting her hand to knock again.

The door swung open fast enough to create its own wind. A large man filled its frame. “You’re late.”

Elsie gawked a moment. It was one thing to have an altercation with a shadow. It was another to see the shadow in bright morning sunlight.

He was over six feet tall, broad and well dressed. His skin was deeply tanned, a light sepia, and a dark half beard encircled his mouth. His wavy walnut hair was worn long and pulled up at the back of his head in a folded tail. A few pieces of the dark mass were sun bleached, as though the overall color could not decide if it wanted to be dark or light.

His eyes were a rather remarkable shade of green.

Elsie caught herself quickly and squared her shoulders. “I am an educated woman, monsieur. I have certain morning grooming rituals that cannot be overlooked, especially if I’m to appear at the home of a duke.” If she didn’t stand her ground, the spellmaker would walk all over her.

She thought she caught Mr. Kelsey rolling his eyes, but he stepped out of the door frame, forcing Elsie to step back. He shut the door behind him. Elsie glanced longingly at the glimmering spell she’d disenchanted twice already.

Surely the Cowls knew she’d tried.

Mr. Kelsey strode toward the back of the estate without word. Elsie followed him, nearly having to jog to keep up with his stride.

“There are some slapdash spells on the estate I’d like voided.” Mr. Kelsey looked straight ahead. “Previous hires of the duchess. Some are old, some are a smattering of intermediate spells that would be better replaced by a single advanced one.” He glanced toward her, studying her for the space of a breath. “I take it you are untrained.”

“I am more than capable of breaking slapdashery, Mr. Kelsey. I trust that you have kept your end of the bargain?”

He nodded, and a trickle of relief cooled Elsie’s vitals. “The family is away, and most of the staff has been given the day off. The rest know better than to snoop. And if any of them do, they’ll assume I hired you from a reputable source.”

Elsie frowned. At least he’d ensured her safety.

He led her to the east side of the estate, to the large stone wall that surrounded the main grounds. The wall was speckled with fortification spells—one every twenty feet!—and Elsie unraveled them one by one. She got rather quick at it, and Mr. Kelsey followed behind her, replacing the spells with spells of his own—knots larger and more intricate than those falling to pieces under Elsie’s hands. Brighter, too. He didn’t say any magical words—aspectors didn’t need to, once they had absorbed a spell. The words became part of them, part of their opus. He simply put his hands on the wall and placed his runes. Runes only a spellbreaker would be able to see. And see them she did, each neat and shiny and symmetrical, though they vanished from sight the farther she moved from them. At most, she could spy three at a time, if she focused, and only because she knew where to look.