Page 120 of Triumph at Pemberley

When had his feckless young cousin who cared about nothing but perfecting his swordplay turned into a general? Perhaps he had always needed a challenge like this. “Thank you. I could not have arranged it better, although I wish the tenants had left.” Even if it warmed his heart that they were loyal enough to stay with him.

Granny, though, looked distinctly unhappy. She was pale, her normally bright countenance grim, and she leaned her head against Sycamore. Was it simply concern over the possibility of failure, or could she be having another heart paroxysm?

Darcy hurried to her side. “Granny, is something the matter? Should I ask Coquelicot to attend you?”

“I am perfectly well, young man,” she snapped. “I did not sleep well last night; that is all. I will be able to cast an illusion to hide you with no difficulty.”

“I am glad of it, though I was concerned for you, not your Talent.”

Her face softened, and she patted his arm. “You are a good lad. Now go and do your part.”

Sycamore’s voice spoke in his head. I already spoke to Coquelicot, who says her heart is fine.

Good. Darcy should have known; no one fretted more over Granny’s health than her dragon. He would have stopped the earth rather than let her suffer.

A few feet away, Frederica's eyes unfocused. “Rana Akshaya says an hour, more or less. They are outside Napoleon’s headquarters, but must be searched and interviewed.” She blinked, suddenly appearing to be present again. “Oh, my. Rana Akshaya does not like to be kept waiting.”

Elizabeth nodded, apparently taking it as her cue to go to the Dragon Stones. She removed the Artifact from its bag and placed it in a sling around her neck, leaving her hands free. Stripping off her gloves, she took out her little knife.

Darcy winced as she cut into her arm and held it out over the space between the stones, letting her blood drip down. He ached to go to her, but it would only make it harder. She had to focus on connecting to the foundations of the land, and his presence would interfere.

Instead, he crossed back to the other side of the clearing and began his own preparations, sinking his consciousness deep into the earth. Life abounded around him on this autumn day, earthworms making their way through the rocky soil, roots and rhizomes forming a net that called for his attention, asking to be nourished. Later, he told it. Today I must defend Pemberley. The plants could not understand, but they knew he was there.

Down and down, to the limestone and the shale beneath it, where he could sense trickles of water moving between the layers of rock. Off to one side, he sensed the great hollow that was the dragon nursery. It ran to the edge of the anchor beneath the Dragon Stones, and it was empty now, all the usual inhabitants removed to the Pemberley Nest for the duration, but he felt Elizabeth's Talent running deep in the ground there.

He spread himself out into the forest around the clearing, becoming aware of the mice, squirrels, and a lone red deer, of acorns trying to sprout through their shells to join the mighty oaks from which they had fallen. All of them called to him to lose himself into the vast web of life, but he had a mission.

He drew back into himself, gathering the power of the land as he went, until his mere mortal body could hold no more.

Frederica called out, “Only two parties ahead of them now. Ten minutes, perhaps.”

Had he been gone so long in the earth, or had Rana Akshaya's group moved more quickly than expected? He could not spare the concentration to ask.

Jasper ordered, “Back behind the line, everyone but Mrs. Darcy and Frederica. Granny, if you would be so kind?”

Granny flicked her fingertips.

Darcy, behind the wall of illusion, could see through it clearly, but hopefully it was hiding them. Not that he expected to need it; Ysmeina’s Cuff would stop Napoleon if he somehow survived the Gate. But it never hurt to be prepared, just in case something went wrong.

He was as ready as he could be, with his land Talent poised for use. Now it was only a matter of waiting.

Frederica stood beside Elizabeth, but Rana Akshaya’s vision through the scale was all she could see, with the slight distortion that came from dragon eyes. She had already given Elizabeth an image of the large room. It looked like a public assembly room, expansive but with only one large chair. A throne, as it were. It was easy to recognize Napoleon from his portraits as he stood before the hearth, flanked by guards. He seemed to command the room, exuding a strange magnetism despite his ordinary height.

“What do you wish of me?” Napoleon sounded bored. He must ask the same question every time.

Rana Akshaya studied him before answering in French. “Nothing. I come to offer you my assistance.” And she did something with magic which Frederica could not make out.

The French emperor’s eyes narrowed. He waved his hand, and most of the men in the room filed out, leaving only a few soldiers. When the door closed behind them, he said, “Interesting. What Nest are you from, and why should I believe you want to help me? You may speak openly; my guards are under strict bindings.” Apparently he could recognize a fellow dragon, even in disguise.

“My great desire is for the British Empire to be destroyed, exactly as they ruined my country, the one I ruled for five hundred years.” Rana Akshaya’s aura of fury was so intense it sent a chill up Frederica’s spine – because she was speaking the truth. “I cannot do it myself without surrendering my freedom, but you, for whatever reason, can.”

Napoleon leaned back in his chair. “You know the truth, then.”

Rana Akshaya said, “I have wondered how you kept it secret so many years.”

“So many centuries,” he corrected. “It is simple enough, between bindings and influencing minds. When someone suspects me, I erase their suspicions and turn them into my most loyal followers.”

Frederica caught her breath. Darcy had only avoided that fate by making himself invisible, which prevented bindings.