Mirror Bound Pt. 02

There were some sad memories, but mostly happy ones, and Lukas went in search of the ones that were most important now, the boy's name, and who his parents were and if they still lived. Searching for clues there was a profound memory of the boy sitting with his parents in a room, their own dining room he remembered, with a man he would come to hate but didn't know then. The man said: 'So, Mr and Mrs Woolridge, you agree with me that sending young Jonathan here to my boarding school in the city would be the best and safest for all parties concerned.'

His parents, nodding but not looking convinced, himself, partly anxious to leave home, but eager to start the magical training he was promised.

Suddenly the connection between Lukas and the boy, Jonathan, was broken. Through my intimate connection with Lukas his feeling of triumph, but also an incredible weariness came rushing in.

As Jonathan jumped up from my lap, shouting: 'I remember everything!' hugging his friends, large and small, vivacious and downtrodden, I was just in time to catch Lukas, who was sagging in exhaustion.

I checked his power level and it was fine, so why was he so tired? Catching my unspoken question he whispered: 'Don't worry, just hold me for a bit, and stay in contact with me. That was a lot to cope with, for him, but for me as well. I'll be fine in a few moments.

Can you imagine how strong he must be, to survive that with his sanity intact?' I held him, and together we watched the children in their confusion, seeing their father figure act like the child he still was, deliriously happy with his name, and the partial removal of the burden of his memories. Frances handed him one of the cakes, and he immediately recognized it: 'Cake! Haven't had that for years, and such a pretty one too.'

He bit into it carefully, and his face reflected his wonderment at the sweet taste: 'It is the best one I've ever tasted, thank you so much Frances.'

I didn't wonder, after two years of eating garbage, that that little cake was the best one he ever had. Lukas was watching all this with quiet satisfaction, and I realized that the love that bound these children filled his need for love nearly as well as sharing physical love.

He'd drain himself to death to give them all their memories back, I was sure of that. Fortunately he couldn't do it without me, so I would be there to keep an eye on him.

Seeing that his charges were a little upset by his exuberance, Jonathan gave them all a little pat, and promised them their turn would come as well, and that they might see their parents again.

He took the time to settle them all, then spent extra time with the girl who had shared the food among the children, soothing her, for she seemed especially upset.

I bet she was afraid he'd leave them, letting the task of caring for the whole lot fall to her. Or maybe she was in love with him, for children in dire circumstances tended to grow up really quickly. This is where Frances spoke again: 'My dear girl, he will not leave you behind, we will not leave you behind.

You can all come with me, clean up, eat again, drink again, sleep in comfort and safety, play on our lawn, sit under our trees, and when Lukas has recovered from healing Jonathan here, he'll help another one of you, and then another, until you've all had your chance.

Hearing this, Jonathan went to Lukas, saw him sitting in my lap, clearly exhausted, and said: 'Thank you so much, Lukas, for giving me my life back. And for taking those horrible memories from the front of my mind to the back.

It was hard for you, wasn't it? You look dead tired, small wonder with the power I saw being drained from you. I never realized one could take power from those glowing lines, or that guy would never have laid his filthy paws on anyone ever again after touching me.

Here I spoke up: 'Jonathan, don't touch those lines unless you are with someone who can teach magic. It's like handling lightning, it can kill you.'

He nodded, then promised: 'I will not, though I don't know if I'll ever get magic training, it's only the high-born kids who get it.' I asked: 'Aren't you high-born then? You speak like you are.'

He replied: 'I was raised if I was, my father was steward to a gentleman, and his son and I were practically raised together. My lord wanted to sponsor me into a apprenticeship, but no-one would take me because I was of a lower class.'

I told him: 'It is not impossible, for I'm not high-born and still I have a magics-teacher. So please keep heart.'

He brightened a little, then addressed Lukas again: 'Say, you're not like us, are you? You look different somehow.' Startled, Lukas replied: 'I'm not, Jonathan, I'll explain another time, when I'm less tired.

First we'll have to get your friends here to a better place to stay, it's nearly getting dark, and we have a friend who needs us. I'll be over tomorrow to help one or two of you again, maybe with Melissa, maybe with Frances' husband, who teaches me magic.

Frances, can you put these up as well?' Frances, still sitting on the ground, and with the little child on her lap, replied: 'We will, even our second best is way better than what these poor kids are used to.

Jonathan, do you agree to all come with me?'

He nodded and asked: 'Will you care for us?' Frances replied: 'Until we can find your parents, and if they cannot be found for some of you, we will find a suitable place to live for them.'

This was good enough for Jonathan: 'Then we'll come with you. But two of us cannot walk far.' At this, Frances said: 'I have a carriage waiting outside, they can ride in it. But you won't all fit. Take any toys you're attached to, leave the rest. Let's be off.'

Jonathan soon had all of them in motion, even the two catatonic children. Frances carried the little girl, and asked: 'Did she come from the place as well?' The answer was shocking: 'No, she just came here by herself one day, from the other side we think, but no-one came to fetch her, we let her play outside for days to allow her parents to pick her up, but after a few weeks she was still here. So we kept her.'

By now we had reached the carriage, and Jonathan urged the two children in, I thought they were a boy and a girl, but wasn't sure under the filth. The little girl went in as well, and I practically forced Lukas in.

Slowly we walked towards the manor, a soot covered row of skinny children, led by a skinny teenager with the eyes of an old man.

When we arrived at the manor house, Bertha was waiting with the small carriage pulled by the tiny ponies, and everyone could ride, which speeded our journey up considerably. At the house, the staff was also waiting, having been through the same process yesterday with the children saved from the factory.

Jonathan was still everywhere, soothing one child, coaxing another, but I could easily see that the load was from his shoulders, he had given up the tremendous responsibility to Frances, who was much better suited to handle it.

In the warm summer evening they made a game of the bathing, all stripping and soaping on the lawn, then spraying each other with a water hose connected to an ingenious apparatus that was powered by a lever.

'Paul's work, to water the plants' Frances said, 'you to must be aching to get back to him, I will call for the carriage to give you a lift. We'll manage just fine here. Lukas, will you be going too?' Lukas put an arm around me and asked: 'Will you be all right to go back on your own? I want to see George for an hour or so, talk about what happened tonight, maybe exchange some intimacies.'

I knew this had been a very difficult healing for him, not only the personal suffering he had encountered, but he had also been confronted quite harshly with the shortcomings of our society in caring for its weaker members. I could understand his need to talk to someone with a lot more experience than himself or me, and George being a very attractive and active lover as well would make him irresistible to Lukas right now.

There was still a price to pay to his talent after all. I told him: 'Of course I understand, it's been a difficult day for you, and George is the perfect partner for you right now, as well as your magic's teacher. Will you come home tonight?'

He replied: 'I will. When all is said and done, my place is still with you two. But don't wait up, I'll let myself in.' We hugged and kissed, and then I went towards the carriage.

Frances hugged me as well, and asked: 'Will we see you tomorrow? I want to talk to you about the greenhouse.' I replied: 'It depends a little on how Paul's doing, but I think I'll come.

Have to fetch the bicycle back too.' 'We'll take good care of it,' she said, 'good night!' And I was into the carriage, and back home in a few minutes.

Chapter 37

I rushed upstairs, suddenly afraid Paul had been alone for too long, that he had had a setback. But as I stormed into the bedroom I found him reading peacefully, happy to see me of course, but not anxious or in pain. I sat down on the bed and we embraced tightly, wrapped up in each other's presence, and we kissed, then looked at the other, then kissed again.

He made room for me to lie down, and when I was nicely settled in his arms, I felt that tentative touch brush my mind, and I reached out for it. The intimacy of that contact was so deeply satisfying to both of us, that we didn't do anything but share feelings for what seemed a long time.

We didn't get overpowered by lust this time, I certainly had more need for quiet intimacy, and I felt Paul was still in some pain, making physical exertion not a very appealing prospect. When the pain started to become worse, so that I could even feel it, I got up and brought him a painkiller, which he obediently took.

I watched him, my love for him overflowing seeing him sitting there, almost back to his normal self, his curly head tilted questioningly at my silence, his stubble thicker than usual, his loving eyes mirroring my infatuated look. Of course he could feel what I was feeling, just as I knew exactly how deeply he loved me, but still he said: 'What?'

On impulse I said: 'I have met your younger brother just now. I don't know what he really looks like, for he was covered in soot and filth, and his hair was long and matted, but he single-handedly saved not just himself, but nine other kids as well.

He didn't remember his name or anything else since he was dumped in that wasteland to die, but he knew how to keep a group together and he fed them and clothed them and never thought of escaping his fate.

When Lukas unblocked his memories, his talent also unfolded again, and when Frances promised to take care of all of them, he cried with relief. Paul, I don't think he can be many years over sixteen, and he pulled them through two winters, on nothing but garbage.'

Clearly, this made Paul feel very guilty: 'And he suffered right under my nose, for as long I have been guardian of this quarter.'

I retorted: 'Which is a few months, whilst it happened under your predecessor's nose for more than one and a half years. Paul, you uncovered this foul business, you led the raid that exposed this black mage, you beat him in a duel. You nearly died to save those children, we couldn't go into that wasteland until the mage was beaten.

He reminded me of you because he sacrificed so much and it still wasn't enough.' This silenced him on the subject of guilt, and he asked: 'You like him very much, don't you?' I replied with feeling: 'I couldn't help it, this boy is special, to have suffered such hardship and still be totally human. He cannot be allowed to go back to his parents and lead a normal, boring life.

So much talent and such drive have to be given direction, such natural leadership cannot be buried alive in a secretary's job or a stewardship. If he is not challenged he will get bored, and with his horrible memories and his talents he may become the next black mage.'

That message came home, and Paul offered: 'When I'm able to move around again, do you want me to test him and see if he is guardian potential? Then we could help him get his education, even if that school that the council member wants to found is not viable.'

That was enough for me, for I knew that those two would recognize one another for what they were immediately, so now I just needed to make sure they'd meet soon.

After this I described the whole scene to him, Frances' role as mother-figure, Lukas' incredible effort, and his subsequent wish to see George about it. The total of twenty strange children on the estate now, of which the two catatonic ones certainly wouldn't be able to reveal their parents.

'I want to help as much as possible, and Lukas feels the same. 'Is he coming home tonight?' Paul asked. I replied: 'He is planning to, but I'm afraid he may try to heal another child first. If George is willing to help him.' 'I trust George with anyone, he'll not ride him as hard as I did you, driving you into reaction sickness time and time again, Lukas will be fine,' Paul said, 'do you want some dinner? You must be starving, I know I am. I think I can make it downstairs and maybe even cook.'

That's when you know you really are a bad cook, when people with a fresh and very painful shot wound prefer to navigate a stairs over eating your cooking.

But of course I knew that already, and I had never put any energy in improving my skills, so I guessed I deserved it. Fortunately I was allowed to help, by dicing stuff, and pouring tea, but I did not get to touch a pan or even the boiler, though I was sure standing up hurt Paul more than he hurt my feelings insulting my cooking.

We got an edible dinner within half an hour, and we both enjoyed that very much. It was even quite romantic, him and me gazing at each other infatuatedly over a plate of good food.

But after dinner he graciously allowed me to do the dishes all by myself whilst he laid on the sofa, waiting for his painkiller to take effect so he would make it up the stairs.

Soon I was sitting on the sofa with his head in my lap, stroking his hair, and he asked: 'Do you want to know what I discovered about those statues?' I had completely forgotten about those silver statues, and I said as much, at which he told me: 'I can imagine, saving a bunch of neglected children from a derelict house in the midst of hell is much more exciting. Though I did find something interesting, I just need to verify it with a book.

Could you fetch it from the bookcase, it's placed among the magic books, a large red leather-bound tome with the striking title of 'The merry faerie' in gold lettering.'

Carefully I got up from the sofa, replacing my lap with a pillow, but he got up and sat on the sofa instead. I searched for the book among the scores of magic books, and finally discovered a large tattered red book with the title in gold letters, removed it from the shelf and took it with me to the sofa.

Once there I sat next to my lover, and laid the book on his knees, it was big enough that when Paul opened it it covered both our laps. He started to turn pages, obviously familiar with the contents of the ancient book, and I caught snatches of beautifully calligraphed images and a nearly illegible script.

Paul didn't seem to have any trouble reading it, and he quickly found the page he was looking for. He scanned it, then read part of it very carefully and slowly, then said: 'It is as I thought, these are elven marriage statues, some families have them made for their children to celebrate their joining. They're usually just beautiful and associated with good luck, but sometimes their maker puts so much of himself in them, that they develop a soul of their own.

Apparently the souls are part of the statues, they don't have bodies pining away somewhere. Interesting as they are, studying them any further can wait until the current situation has been resolved. We'll just leave them here to get acquainted with the house.'

Now when had I heard him say that before, and why did it raise the hairs in my neck?

But those children needed our help, and I hoped we would have something to offer them the coming days. I took a good look at Paul and it seemed the painkiller had taken effect, for he sat straighter and more relaxed.

I asked: 'Is the pain gone?' He nodded and replied: 'It is, and even when it comes back it hurts ever so much less than it did this morning. That is a very valuable talent Lukas has. Do you suppose his father knew somehow, going to such lengths to set it free?' I mused: 'It would make him very useful to his father's court, if one didn't care about the price Lukas had to pay to get the talent.'

Paul added: 'Maybe dear papa also hoped it would make him more tractable, having suffered a little at the hands of scary demons, having been humbled .'

Suddenly I remembered something I had wondered about earlier that day: 'Does your boiler need attention to keep the contents hot? I realized today that I have never seen you stoke it yet.'

Paul answered: 'It does, you're right, I almost forgot. I use a magic to stoke it about ten times as efficiently as a normal boiler, but it does need some fuel, about once a day. I'll show you straight away.'

We put the red book aside and I followed him into the cellar, down the rather steep stairs that ended in the small, rather cold room with one wall covered in shelves, where Paul kept his supplies. On the other wall was a cabinet, I guess the deepest darkest place in his house, where he told us he kept the mirror that was the portal to the world full of demons, wrapped in black velvet. And a large boiler, made out of copper but unadorned, still a thing of great beauty, with the expected pile of coal beside it.

I asked: 'I have wondered before why it is cool in here, when that thing should be heating the room up to an unbearable temperature?' This made Paul laugh, and he said: 'Can't fool an engineer, can I? I have a spell on that boiler, keeping all the heat inside.

If it overheats, it vents into the workshop on the other end of the wall in winter, and outside the house in the summer. The boiler in the kitchen is connected to this one, as well as the one in your apartment.

They merely keep the water hot and send it around the house, they don't actually heat it. This one does all the heating.' He opened a chute and handed me a hand shovel, asking: 'Can you fill that from the pile three times and ease it in?' I filled the shovel up with coal and let the contents slide into the chute. He nodded in approval, that was slowly enough.

Then I repeated that movement twice, hung the shovel back where it came from, and closed the chute.

Satisfied, Paul said: 'That is it, it's ready for another day. In winter I need to stoke it twice a day, with double the amount of coal, and I remove the spell from the piping and the other boilers, and they heat the house.' I was stunned, thinking of the quantity of coal my parents used to burn to keep our house heated in winter.

Our tiny house, where we lived with five people in one room and had two unheated bedrooms. 'It's one of my great frustrations, not being able to improve society with magic. Every family in the city could live this comfortably, with running water as well, I use magic to pump that from the ground and engineering to pump it around the house.

But if anyone knew, I'd be imprisoned, murdered, who knows what the people would do to me for using magic. So the boilers I sell are just that, boilers, though I try to make them as fuel-efficient as possible.' He seemed positively sad about having to keep the advantages of using magic a secret, and he looked so wistful I couldn't help wrapping my arms around him and kissing him.

He returned my kiss with fervour, a good sign, his body responded to stimuli again, he really was much better.