3 Chapter 3 - What Fools These Mortals Be

For a few moments, Pierce stared up into the dark opening, rain now falling steadily on his face though the gap. He strained his ears, searching for any sounds to indicate where the creature had gone, but nothing broke through the drumming of the rain, and the insistent humming sound.

Bracing his feet against the cushioned seats, Pierce maneuvered himself up just enough to raise his head out of the carriage door. Cautiously, he scanned the surroundings - not much could be seen. Some distance away, a small pool of flame sputtered on the road, a broken lamp nearby. From this angle, nothing could be seen of the horses or the coachman. The road looked dark in both directions, with no movement other than the rain.

When no arrows whirred towards his head, he levered himself up a little farther. At this angle, he could see closer to the coach, and dimly make out the hoof prints of horses, made in water-filled mud, and the long, clawed prints of what he surmised was the creature.

It was Pierce's turn to listen carefully to the sound coming out of the dark, somewhere off to their right. Was it ... increasing in intensity? There was a mounting pressure in his ears, and a tightness around his chest that had nothing to do with the sharp pain in his ribs. The ominous feeling suffocated sound and pressed down upon him. He knew this oppressive atmosphere - someone was working dark magic.

They had to get out of here. Alone, with a wounded and unconscious Victoria, he could not both protect her and fight a beast and a dark sorcerer. He could see neither the horses nor the coachman from the top of the coach, but they were likely to entangled at the front.

Their best bet was to find one of the horses, alive, and escape on horseback, hopefully with John. If not, then he only could hope they could hide in the woods - his earth magic could come in handy there. He could seal them inside a tree, and disturb the ground around to hide their tracks to disrupt any tracks. Earth magic users could also work minor healings, but for Pierce, the concentration required was long and difficult.

If he could get them away, and be guaranteed of safety for a few moments, he might be able to wake Victoria. Her light magic was able to form an effective shield against dark magic workings, and possibly protect them against whatever effects were building. He knew dark magic spells took an incredibly long time to prepare, but were much stronger when they were released.

Getting out of the carriage was the first challenge. Right now, this was their only cover. Dragging Victoria and himself out through the top would only expose them, and frankly, take way too long, even without a broken rib to hinder him. But that was not the only option.

Pierce dropped back down, splashing into the puddle that had accumulated in the bottom of the carriage. The best chance, if there was a beast out there bent on attacking them at the behest of the sorcerer, lay in hiding themselves from its sight while they escaped.

Grateful now for his gift of earth magic as he had been frustrated before for his lack of light magic, he placed his hand against the wooden frame of the coach, concentrating. Gently, he used his power to reshape the dead wood, pushing it aside to make an opening in the old floor of the coach. The flowing movement of the wood wasn't silent, but he hoped its small noise was covered by the increase in the intensity of the rain.

It only took a few moments for a hole big enough to form, and he quickly scooped up Victoria, cradling her head against his shoulder.

Lightning suddenly cracked across the sky, lighting the interior of the coach. Pierce looked down at her unconscious face, part covered in rain and blood, with smears of mud from his fingers, and knew that he had been a fool.

He was a minor noble from a comfortable, friendly family, who neither curried favour nor offended any House larger or more powerful than their own. They stayed out of power struggles and politics, remaining neutral and largely undisturbed, because their wealth and security lay in steady success in agriculture. His parents, who loved and supported him with kindness, had never demanded much of him other than happiness, and though he was a decent student, he had never applied himself to anything - not academics, policy, martial arts, strategy or magic.

And now, Victoria could die because of his lack of abilities. He flashed back to memories of school. His best friend, Winston, from a much more difficult family, had grimly taken each opportunity, conquering and mastering it with determination. Winston was dark and intense where Pierce was easy laughter and affability.

Earlier this night, at the ball, he had opened by dancing once with Victoria, and then let her spin away to other more impressive partners, falling back to the shadows near the balcony doors, nursing a drink while he watched a pale blue dress swirl across the floor. For once, all of Pierce's laughter deserted him, and though he couldn't quite account for why, he knew he wanted to keep his expression hidden.

"So tonight is the night, then?" A deep voice cut out of the dark behind him. Pierce startled a little, nearly spilling his drink. Winston's habit of appearing out of nowhere and uttering cryptic was phrases wasn't new, but it was like the man had a talent for finding one unprepared.

"The night for what?" Pierce muttered into his drink.

"For realizing we are both fools." Winston followed his gaze onto the dance floor. "If I had your chance to be at the starting line so far before anyone else," and here Winston stepped up beside him, and the light from the ballroom fell on his dark, strong-jawed face, "no one else would ever have had the chance to compete." Despite the harshness of the words, Winston's tone was matter-of-fact.

"And if I was you, with your money, position and advantages, then maybe I would have looked up from my bloody-minded obsessiveness for five minutes - before it was too late," Pierce shot back, not softening the statement with his normal friendly grin.

There was a long moment of silence while Winston considered his words.

"Perhaps," he said slowly. "But at least I didn't just choose to quit the field before the contest."

Pierce had not replied - just thrown back his drink, and stalked away to find some cards to play in another room.

But now, in the brief flash of overwhelming light, he understood. He was the worse of fools, not just for bumbling genially through life, trusting in friendliness, privilege and dumb luck to get him through, but for not protecting what he loved fiercely enough.

And he did love Victoria. He admitted it to himself, finally, that all of his heart was hers. She held it in her pale hands, in the sweep of her dark lashes, her crooked, rueful, loving smile and her ruthless, compassionate honesty.

The lighting faded as quickly as it had come, and Pierce forced his thoughts away. He shifted his burdens and placed Victoria more securely against his shoulder, stepping out into the relentless night.