One eye stared up at him, but the creature seemed too weak to move. He replaced the cloth and tied the jar shut again, speaking to it all the while. “Wait a while longer and I’ll feed you, but don’t think of leaving the jar. The sun is out.” Then he sent the creature back into storage.
He felt better after assessing everything, so he brought out his journal and began his daily ritual of running through each spell he could cast, one by one. That didn’t take long, and afterward he moved on to the new spell he was working on acquiring, the iron-body transformation.
An hour of that left him a little frustrated, but he knew it was all part of the process. The spell was slightly more complicated than Selene’s Solution, and he’d only managed to master one other eighth-order spell at that point, so it was reasonable that it would take him a while to get the hang of it. The question is whether I’ll be able to use it before I get turned into a pincushion for fangs again.
With that done, it was time for his more repetitive practice, thought that seemed almost pointless now that he was beginning to reflex cast the force-lance spell. Being able to cast the spell unconsciously was great, but he wouldn’t feel truly comfortable until he could also count on being able to do so deliberately. But once I can do that, which spell should I start working on next? Getting to the point of reflex casting took a lot of time and practice, so choosing a spell he would need to cast quickly and often was important before investing the effort.
The problem was that he had a lot of useful spells. The chameleon spell would be a great choice, but so would the unlocking spell, or the wind-wall. Or hell, even the climb spell. Then again, a larger defensive spell might be best. The force-dome used a lot of turyn, but if he was faced with a large scale attack, it might be the only option for defense, and it would be a lot easier to learn to reflex cast than the iron-body spell would be.
“After a hundred years or so, most of the spells you use frequently get to the point where they’re instinctive.” Arrogan had told him that, and he suddenly wondered what his future self might be able to do. Future Will could probably handle this whole vampire problem without breaking a sweat, he thought enviously. If only he were here instead of me.
Drawing the curtains, Will opened one of the windows and looked outside. There was a tree about twenty feet from the bedroom, so he took aim and began practicing on it with the force-lance, trying to remove individual leaves. The spell was coming together in less than a second now, but it still refused to let him cast it with merely a thought.
Glancing down, he saw the laborer he had spoken with that morning staring up at him curiously. Will smiled and waved broadly, causing the fellow to hurry back to his job. Will shrugged and shut the window. “At least I tried to be friendly.”
At that point, he had done all he could. It was time to face the world, so he went to the door and stepped out. He could hear voices downstairs already, and he hoped he wouldn’t be inundated with questions. All the noise was coming from the dining room, so he turned and headed that way. The table was nearly full when he stepped into the room.
“Will!” said Tiny cheerfully, waving from the far side of the room. “I thought you would sleep all day.”
He didn’t feel like explaining his solitary practice, so he replied with a simple, “I needed the rest.” Gazing around the room, he saw that the entire Nerrow family was gathered around. The side door opened, and Blake and Armand entered carrying a variety of plates and dishes—all covered with food.
Will’s stomach rumbled appreciatively.
Blake called out, “You’re just in time. We had given up on waiting for you to come down for lunch.”
He ignored his manservant and pulled Armand aside quickly. “You didn’t let him prepare any of this, did you?”
The older cook winked at him. “You’re safe.”
“Thank the Mother,” Will exclaimed, moving to find a seat.
Chapter 36
It was a simple meal, but it had obviously been put together by an experienced hand with an eye for perfection. Will took note of several things he wanted to ask Armand about later; in particular, he had questions about the sauce the older man had used, but that would have to wait.
As the actual eating slowed and people began to finish, Mark Nerrow spoke to Will. “I owe you a debt of thanks for letting us use your home.”
Having slept fully and with a full stomach, Will was once again in command of his faculties. He nodded graciously. “Let’s not speak of debts,” he replied. “I hope you don’t think I would be so poor a host as to count the cups.” ‘Count the cups’ was an expression he had learned from Selene before she had left. While he didn’t understand the origin of the idiom, it essentially meant penny pinching, or acting in a cheap manner, something the nobility would rather die than be accused of.
“Of course not,” said the baron.
“Then feel free to use my home as long as you need. If you feel the need to recompense me, all I ask is for the details of the previous evening. What happened?”
Agnes spoke first. “It was horrible. I was sure we wouldn’t survive.” She glanced lovingly at her husband. “But Mark had planned ahead. It was his forethought that saved us.”
If the remark seemed overly contrived, the faint blush that came to Mark Nerrow’s cheek destroyed that thought. Will decided that Agnes was simply well spoken and not afraid to give praise when it was due. The baron replied simply, “I merely wanted to keep my family safe. It was a decision made years ago.”
Agnes looked at Will. “When we bought the house, he had the builders renovate portions of it. One thing he insisted on, something I thought he was mad for, was creating a sub-cellar we could retreat to in the event of a fire or an armed invasion.”
Will turned to Mark. “You really were thinking ahead. Maybe I should add a similar provision to the work they’re doing on my new workshop?” Blake was standing beside the kitchen door, behaving for once exactly as an ordinary butler would. He coughed slightly to catch Will’s attention. Will glanced back, then laughed. “You already put something like that in the plans, didn’t you?”
A slight nod from Blake confirmed it.
Laina spoke up. “Your staff might be small, but Blake is the envy of many a noble household. There’s a reason the king employed him on Selene’s behalf all those years ago.” Her eyes locked onto Blake as she continued, “Even if he occasionally has lapses of judgment.”
Agnes put a hand on her daughter’s arm, effectively silencing her. Then Mark returned to his story. “Darla was on watch, as usual, and she was able to give us some forewarning; however, this time they wasted no time in their assault. By the time I was able to respond, they had already thrown more alchemical bombs at the house. Everything was in flames. The house burned so quickly it was all we could do to gather the servants and get into the cellar.”