Page 22 of Unexpected Magic

He tried twice more, with the same result.This isn’t working. I need to find out what the barrier is, or at least where it comes from.Ignoring the stabbing pain in his head, he sent his mage senses cautiously toward the obstacle in his way.

It was solid. Wide, too, stretching as far as he could reach in both directions, curving around the castle. And tall, for he couldn’t reach the top.

After a few minutes thought—it took longer than it should, because his head hurt even worse after his magical explorations—he opened the outer door of his rooms and spoke to the footman on duty in the hall. “Please ask Captain Harewood to come and see me. I need him.”

Two heads were better than one, especially when one of them felt as if it had been in a game of mob football—as the ball.

A drink. He needed something to drink. He considered the brandy decanter, but alcohol was probably a bad idea given the state of his head. Instead, he put his kettle on his little spirit stove, and spooned some tea into his teapot.

The kettle had boiled and he was just pouring the water onto the leaves when a knock on the door proved to be Harewood.

“Come in and sit down, Harewood. A drink? I have brandy and port, or I am making tea, if you prefer.”

“Tea, sir,” said Captain Harewood. “I take it there is a problem and I shall need a clear head.”

Not for the first time, Jasper thanked God that the Horse Guard had sent such a clearheaded and sensible young man to command the troops who escorted him and Miss Nettleford. He set the teapot to brew, and put out a second cup while saying, “You shall, for my wits are not what they should be. Reach out with your mage sense. Try to reach outside the castle walls. Tell me what you find. And go carefully, for I’ve given myself a headache by moving at speed.”

Harewood frowned and narrowed his eyes, which lost focus as his mage sense took all of his attention. Jasper waited. It seemed to take a long time, but at last, Harewood blinked, gave a minute shake of his head, and turned his gaze to Jasper.

“I found a barrier,” he said. “It goes as far round the castle as I can ‘see’ and higher than I can ‘reach’. I couldn’t get below it by going underground, either. I sensed a couple of birds flying through it, so I suspect it just stops magic, though that remains to be tested.”

Impressive. Jasper had not thought of trying to reach under. Nor had he noticed the birds. He handed the young captain the tea he had poured while Harewood was otherwise occupied, and picked up his own cup. “The questions I have are: where does it come from, who made it, and what is it intended to do?”

The young captain looked crestfallen. “I do not know,” he admitted.

“Neither do I,” Jasper assured him. “But I intend that you and I shall find out.”

“My gift isn’t that strong,” Harewood said, uncertainly, and then added, “Though it seems to have changed a bit since being with the catalyst. It is still just simple stuff, though. Small magic. I do not know what help I can be, sir.”

“You have small magic, you say,” Jasper observed. “But it is fully under your control. Disciplined and intelligent control, furthermore. While I have strong magic, I have never had much success controlling it. In any case, it is your intelligence I want. Already, you thought of two things I had not—testing the depth of the barrier and observing the birds.”

The captain stood a trifle straighter and allowed himself a small smile. “It was probably the headache, sir,” he offered. “I might be able to do something about that, if you would permit.”

“If you can fix my headache, Harewood, I would be very grateful.”

“It’s a trick my great aunt taught me,” Harewood said. “I’ll need to stand behind you, sir, and massage your temples.”

Figuring it might help, Jasper gave his consent, but Harewood had understated the matter. What he did was morethan a simple massage. Jasper could feel a magical influence moving from the young officer’s fingertips into his head, penetrating the locations of pain and soothing them.

“There,” said Harewood. “I hope that is better.”

“Much better,” Jasper realized. “My headache is almost gone. Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Harewood said. “Anything I can do.”

Jasper replied to the courteous half bow with one of his own, and returned to the problem before them. “I came up here to report on the hex in the well to my superiors in London,” he said. “I wrote the letters, but when I tried to translocate them, I hit the barrier. It wasn’t here two nights ago, when I first reported the hex’s existence. Perhaps the timing is a coincidence.”

“Or perhaps someone does not want you to send your letters,” mused Harewood.

“Precisely so.” Perhaps Harewood was right about the headache interfering with his thinking, for, with it gone, another thought occurred to Jasper. “I have not had a response to my messages of two nights ago. I wonder if the barrier is preventing entry as well as egress.”

“What would happen?” Harewood asked. “Would the London letters just fall to the ground outside the castle? Or would they return to the sender?”

“They wouldn’t go,” Jasper said, and explained, “The way it was explained to me is that all places are next to one another, at least in a magical sense. In translocation, we reach out to the destination place, and move it so close to the place we are in that the object or being we want to move is actually in both places at the same time, and then we move them apart again, leaving the object behind.”

Harewood nodded thoughtfully. “So, is the barrier keeping our piece of the world separated from everywhere else? Or just from London?”

It was an excellent question. “Let’s see if I can send something somewhere else,” said Jasper.