Captive Magics

23 - The Stone Thieves

By the time the agent had returned to his office and put that difficult accountant and his silly wife from his mind, Lissy had set up their rented sitting room as a temporary workshop and, despite her best efforts to protect the room by unrolling a sheet of canvas to catch grease, she had already put a dent in their deposit. As Leander stared at the impression in the wall, caused by a spring suddenly going awry, she cast a guilty look at him and opened her mouth to provide some sort of explanation.

"Um," she told him enlighteningly.

"You've been busy," he commented, choosing to move past the little accident, and the fact that her large blue eyes looked freakish for being magnified further by the goggles she was wearing. It was extremely unnerving.

"Oh! So have you!" she cried in delight, pulling off the goggles as he knelt with a tea tray. She leaned forwards to brush cogs and books out of his way, then stole a gingernut with stained fingers before he had set the tray down properly.

"What are you doing?" he asked dubiously, handing her a teacup.

"I wondered if I could assemble a second pair of these goggles in time for tonight."

"That seems like a steep challenge. Can you?"

"No."

"Oh. Well you'll just have to do without," he replied.

"What? Me? I'm wearing these!"

"You can do the manual labour then," Leander suggested. She considered it silently for a moment.

"You can wear the goggles," she conceded sulkily. Picking them up, she motioned to put them on him, and obligingly he bent for her to slide them over his head.

"Do we need to prepare anything for tomorrow?" he asked quietly. She sat back.

"No," she replied, smirking slightly at how he looked in the goggles. "Other than adjusting those, your eyesight is much worse than mine. It's those two dials on the side."

"Good, we can relax and settle in then," Leander said, fiddling with the wheels until the lenses zoomed right into the scatter of freckles down Lissy's cheekbones.

Despite his suggestion of relaxing they were both fidgety and terse for the rest of the day, inventing pointless tasks to fill the time and then completing them distractedly. Eventually, as the sun fell, twilight settling in gently over the valley and their tiny isolated cottage in the middle of it, they went to bed. Leander lay awake for several hours, mind, never finding a position comfortable enough to let him drift off.

There was a gentle tap on his door, and he sprang out of bed.

"Oh, you're awake."

"I couldn't sleep."

"Me neither. My mind was whirring."

"Are you going to suggest we go now?" he asked. In the dark he could just about make out her standing a little straighter in her white nightgown.

"Do you think we might?" she asked excitedly. "You're going to say no, aren't you."

"We might as well, I think we'll get there well before dawn if we do, which is perfect," he replied, and caught the flash of white teeth as she grinned.

"Excellent!" she replied, and his eyes were seared with light as she conjured flames in her open hand.

"Ow!"

"Sorry! I got a little carried away."

"It's alright, I'll meet you downstairs in a few minutes," he told her, and she skipped through her bedroom door opposite as Leander rummaged for his clothes.

The plan was simple, a lot simpler than Leander wanted. If he could have his ideal plan it would be very brilliant and truly cunning, and elaborate enough to give you boundless confidence. He told Lissy this as their borrowed carpet shuddered in a sudden gust of wind.

"Elaborate plans always fail," she shouted as they gained speed. "That's why this one is perfect."

"We haven't really got a plan. We've got the beginning of a plan and the end of a plan, and nothing in the middle. That's not much of a plan. You're going the wrong way."

"Which way should I go?"

"That way, can you see the hill?"

"No, you're the one with the seeing-in-the-dark glasses. Why do we want to head towards a hill? I thought the hill range was north-west of Tisk."

"It is, that's why we need to go that way."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Yes it does," he told her, and described the lay of the land to her. She was silent for a moment.

"Well if you're sure, you can take over," she suggested. Leander moved forwards and leaned around her, his arm almost brushing her waist as he took over the steering. They were both quiet as he changed direction and took them over a forest of billowing dark treetops.

"It's not a bad plan," she muttered eventually, breaking the silence. Leander laughed.

"It's not a plan!"

"If you don't want to come along we can turn back now."

"No, no," he said hastily. "I know you'll go either way, and I don't want you to go alone. I can see Fanton Court."

"Where?"

"About a mile away, directly ahead," he told her. She stared into the dark for a while at something he could see quite clearly, and then when it was almost below them exclaimed in triumph.

They switched positions on the carpet, Lissy steering it in a wide circle above the roof as Leander prepared himself at the back.

"Are you ready?" he heard her ask in hushed tones.

"No."

"Do you want to swap-"

"That flat bit there, can you see it?" he asked before he could remember how anxious he was. She turned the carpet sharply and aimed in a steep dive for the level top of one of the towers. As they approached she slowed them and, feeling sick, he hauled himself to the edge of the carpet and sat with his feet hanging over the side. He cast one quick glance towards her – she was leaning forwards, concentration acutely focussed on their trajectory – and pushed himself off.

The landing was uncomfortable on his knees and ankles, though the drop had not been high. Peering around through the goggles, he shook the discomfort from his legs and spotted something crawling along the roof. A gargoyle, the size of a corgi and with a face carved into a deep-wrinkled frown, launched itself towards him. Leander opened the mouth of the sack he was carrying and somehow managed to get it over the gargoyle's head. He slipped, muffled a swearword, and wedged his foot in a gutter, tightening the rope around the writhing sack. The spell kicked in and suddenly the sack was still, dropping inert to the roof with a thud. It was a moment of unexpected triumph for Leander, cut short as a gargoyle on a neighbouring turret noticed him and hefted a chunk of stone.

Wumph – the carpet hit the roof next to him as Lissy landed it gracelessly. Wasting no time, he hauled the sack and himself behind her and told her to go.

"Did you get one?" she shouted at him, shooting them into the sky.

"Yes," he replied, out of breath.

"Well done!" she praised, flashing a smile over her shoulder that verged on manic. "See, the plan was sound!"

"We still need to contrive the rest of the plan," he pointed out. "Do...er, can I steer us, now?"

"If you wish," she told him, and he took over. Having been about to offer her the goggles, he had realised he was shaking quite a bit and he wanted to keep that discovery to himself. It was only when they were nearly back to the cottage again that he calmed his frantic nerves and realised with astonished glee that he had succeeded. And they were still alive.