Still, it gnawed at him, that someone had broken into Pemberley, endangering his family, and there was nothing he could do about it.
At least he could wield iron, unlike the lesser fae who would be burned by the touch of it. He left the house and turned across the park to the stables, to the small armory that served as an occasional fencing studio. It would be strange to carry a sword around his house, but it might give him a moment's advantage.
Under his feet, the land felt restless. Pemberley did not like invaders, either. Nor did his lynx. Darcy caught a glimpse of him, pacing at the edge of the line of trees, guarding him. Even his familiar felt the danger.
He had expected the old room where he had received his fencing lessons to be full of dust, as befitted an unused area. Instead the ground was clear, almost polished with use. The weapons hung on the wall shone with care, all except the pile of rusty ancient ones heaped in the center. Good God, was that apike? What was that doing here?
Then the ladder in the corner shook as his cousin Jasper Fitzwilliam descended it from the loft, his free arm laden with several ancient swords. He dumped them on the heap with an ear-splitting clang.
“Darcy! Just the man I wanted to see,” he said cheerfully. “Did you know the loft is full of these things?”
“Yes, those were the ones no one wanted anymore, but were too good to discard. I doubt any of them can hold an edge now. The valuable ones are in the attics of the main house.”
“These still have iron in them. I thought we could hang some across windows to keep the fae out. And a few knives that servants could carry - not to fight with, but to repel any fae who gets too close to them.”
That was a startlingly practical solution from Jasper, who usually could think of nothing beyond his next fencing bout. Even if it involved edged weapons, the great love of his life. “An excellent idea. I came here to find a weapon to carry, too.”
Jasper waved his hand expansively at the rack of foils on the wall. “Help yourself. Not the one on the end, though; that is Georgiana's favorite. It would be too short for you, anyway.”
“Georgiana’sfavorite?” What did his sister have to do with swords?
“Did Freddie not tell you? That is why I am here, to train Georgiana to defend herself against a High Fae. Though none of us thought she would need the skills so soon.” He shook his head.
Darcy wanted to object. Heachedto argue that Georgiana was a young lady and should have nothing to do with fighting skills. Except how could he deny her any way to protect herself, when he himself was helpless to fight back against an invisible, inhuman enemy? Somehow he managed a strangled, “I see.”
As expected, Jasper did not even notice his discomfort. “I will ask old Mrs. Reynolds to distribute these. She will know best - should have been a general, that one!” With a feral grin, he added, “And then I will go hunting. I have been practicing for this.”
“For what?”
“Fighting an opponent I cannot see. I have been sparring with Georgiana's lesser fae, the ones who were teaching her knife skills before I came. It adds an extra challenge, fencing with someone who can see me when I am at a disadvantage. At first they drubbed me every time, but now I can manage some hits.”
Only Jasper would enjoy such an uneven match! There had been no one in England who could seriously challenge him in years, so it must be a novelty to him. “If you can stop this High Fae, I will be forever in your debt.”
Carrying a sword was strange enough, even if it was just a sharpened fencing foil. Slinging an old sword belt over his elegant tailcoat felt more extraordinary. He had never used one before; Jasper had found it for him in the loft, along with a pair of daggers. Had it been his father's, or perhaps his old fencing master's?
It did not matter how odd he looked. It was his responsibility to defend his family, including his changeling sister.
Something blotted out the sun. He looked up at a dragon gliding overhead. Quickthorn, by the blue-green scales that glinted in the light. And there, not far off, Rowan's currant-red form made a sweep across the sky. It seemed impossible that a creature so massive could stay aloft - and that dragons could be taking their true form over Pemberley. Until now, they had been careful to stay in their bird forms where anyone might see them.
Now they must need the full defenses of their draconic forms as they searched for the intruder.
There must be something he could do to help, something beyond carrying a sword he was unlikely to be able to use.
His eyes narrowed. The land. Perhaps Pemberley itself knew something. He had used his Talent before to find lost children and animals, but he had known what those looked like and touched things that bore their scent. He did not even know whether this High Fae was male or female, much less anything about them. But Roderick had said once that Darcy underestimated what he could do with his land Talent. Perhaps it was time to test that.
He veered from the path and strode out across the park toward the lake. The water there ran through the estate, and Elizabeth claimed it could carry knowledge. Once he and Mrs. Sanford had joined forces to heal Elizabeth there.
When he reached the water's edge, he stripped off his gloves. Kneeling down, he spread his hands through the neatly scythed grass, pushing his fingertips down into the cold soil. The power of Pemberley rose to meet him, flowing into his fingers and up his arms with a rush of tingling warmth. Had it been this powerful before he went to France? His land bond had always been unusually strong, but now the magic wove through him, rather than being something he sought out.
For a moment he let himself luxuriate in the sensation of strength uncoiling through his limbs. His senses plunged into the land, exploring the roots and rhizomes preparing for winter, the tiny creatures of the soil, and into the water, where his presence drew the attention of a small lamprey making its way past a brown trout. Life was everywhere, making its way through the land and the lake.
He needed to focus. He mentally formulated the concept of an invader, someone who did not belong at Pemberley. A fae who was neither human nor animal, who had come to hurt the family bonded to this earth. Then he queried the land. Could it help him find this unknown High Fae?
Pemberley made no answer, but that was not surprising. The land moved on a different time scale than impatient humans. It could not make a quick decision. Darcy kept up the pressure, sending his consciousness out far into the earth like rapid-growing roots of his own, out past the lake, into the woods and then the pastures and field. Behind him towards the gardens and the hills - and then the land reacted.
There was something in the house, and the land did not like it. At all.
Darcy's mouth went dry. That monster was in the house with Elizabeth, Jenny, and Georgiana. He had to stop it.
