Page 9 of Unexpected Magic

The latest beast—a pegasus born on one of the local farms—was going to be a nuisance. The colt and its mother would have to go to London, too, and the mother was a big horse—part Shire. The birth changed Jasper’s plans, and led to another flurry of messages and another visit to the Convent of St. Gwladys.

“We shall be traveling by canal boat,” Jasper explained to Miss Nettleford. “In that way, we can ensure that the animals are not stressed, and by building quarters for the ladies in our party, the unicorn, the lindwurm and the egg at one end of the boat, and for the minotaur and his nurse, the pegasus and his groom, and the men, including the crew, at the other, we can keep the unicorn calm.”

With magical assistance and a canal horse trained to the boots—Jasper had sent out more messages to ensure changes of horse would be waiting at regular intervals—they would be able to manage seven to ten miles an hour. Reaching London in five days was achievable.

In the meantime, Jasper bent his efforts to discovering the identity of the catalyst. They were so vanishingly rare he could find no test, magical or otherwise, to disclose the person. However, he figured that, if he marked the incidents on a map, he could narrow down the center of the magical storm.

It proved not to be that simple. The number of known incidents was greatest in and close to Nettleford Manor, but there was no semblance of a circle with diminishing effects the further one went from the central cluster.

Could there be unknown incidents that would even out the distribution? Could it be that the potentiating effect took time to be apparent, and future incidents would provide clarity? Time must have been a factor for the magical beasts and humans, given that the potentiating influence must have been active in the early stages of the pregnancy, before the offspring was fully formed.

The duke’s physician and the healer mages at the college confirmed that any potential in the foal within a gestating horse must have been triggered no later than halfway through the pregnancy, which meant the catalyst, whomever he or she was, had been active for five to six months.

He began again, drawing a timeline across the bottom of a long roll of paper and plotting the incidents by his estimate of when the plant’s or creature’s or human’s potential must have been triggered.

Sure enough, there was a substantial jump six months ago. Once one allowed for the fact that shorter-lived plants and animals were more likely to be magical and less likely to be reported to the authorities, the increase was even more dramatic.

To take just one example, a chick that grew to three times the size of its brothers and sisters, and which could also translocate, was clearly magical. But since it could not breed, it would make little if any difference to its flock or its farmer.

There had been another jump a little over a month ago. Of course, once the unicorn, the dragon, and young Edgar Nettleford’s gift all arrived on the same day, the duke sent outan order that every magical being or gift should be reported, whether major or not.

How could this help him to find the catalyst? Perhaps he needed to start at the other end.The chances are it is someone from Nettleford Manor, he mused. And it suddenly occurred to him that a person who visited around the neighborhood would carry their potentiating power with them, thereby messing up his distribution map.

On his daily visit to Nettleford Manor, he questioned Sir Arnold, the butler, the housekeeper, and the stablemaster about the movements of the household in the past six months.

“Very few of the servants go farther than the village or the home farm,” he told the duke that evening. “In fact, it is highly unlikely to be any of them. As for the steward and the family, young Edgar is out, since he is a mage, and we know that catalysts can’t themselves do magic. And Lady Nettleford does not visit the farms or villages—or anywhere except for those manors where the lady of the house is a contemporary of hers.”

“Which leaves us with the steward, Sir Arnold, and the unicorn’s maiden,” the duke surmised.

“Precisely,” Jasper agreed.

“It is probably Miss Nettleford then,” said the duke. “Both Sir Arnold and the steward are fifty if they are a day, and catalyst power usually shows up in young adults. So, things should settle down once she leaves the district. Well done, Thornton.”

“It should settle down gradually,” Jasper said, cautiously. “I daresay other creatures will be born and new mages found that have already been triggered by the potentiating power. But if I am right, Nettlefordshouldsettle down, and the influence will show up in London.”

Which was something to think about. How would London cope, with its much bigger population, when Miss Nettleford arrived and the storm of unexpected magic arrived with her?

Jasper hated sending messages by translocation. He could do it. They always turned up at the right place, even if sometimes they arrived before he sent them. However, frequently he had a splitting headache after sending one, or the poor mage at the other end was the victim of what felt like a blow to the head.

In this case, though, he could see no alternative. He needed a new destination, or at the very least, orders from the Duke of Findlater or the king confirming that they wanted Miss Nettleford in London, and were prepared for the consequences.

*

Nettleford Grange

Delia had notexpected her mother to see her off, so she should not now be disappointed. At least Father was there, standing in front of the cluster of servants who had come to watch as she carried Mary and Polly led Sapphire from the shed that had been their home to the wagon Mr. Thornton had prepared according to her specifications.

It would be a temporary accommodation. Apparently, they would be carried to the Shropshire Union Canal, and would travel the rest of the way to London on a canal boat.

Several of the maids from the manor carried what they were taking with them—the cradle containing the egg and hers and Polly’s luggage.

When Delia stopped in front of her father, Sapphire dug his hooves in and refused to budge. The maids passed them, to deposit their loads in the wagon.

Father cleared his throat. “Well, Cordelia, you are off to London.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Be a good girl,” he admonished. “Do not bring dishonor to the family.”