Free The Mislaid Magician by Patricia C. Wrede, Caroline Stevermer

as it is your favorite, will you lead?”
    It took about an hour to reach the river at the slow pace Adella set, pausing occasionally when she saw a vista of particularly fine composition, and we crossed and recrossed the ley line as we wound our way along the lanes. As we came over a rise, I could feel the ley line even more strongly than before. Near the bank of the river, I could see one of the steam trains coming up the railway line.
    Adella pulled her horse to a stop at the crest of the hill. “Is it not charming?” she said, waving at the river.
    As I began to answer, the steam engine reached the point just opposite us, and the ley line began to tremble. The engine slowed, as if a sudden weight had been added to its load—and it had, Kate, for I could feel the steam train actually pulling the ley line sideways, like the string of a bow as it is being drawn. The horses felt it as well and began moving restlessly.
    “What on earth—?” said one of the gentlemen as he tried to control his mount.
    “The animals dislike the train,” Mr. Webb said. “It makes them nervous.”
    Just then the steam engine blew a long whistle—James told me later that it is a way of letting off the pressure when the steam becomes too hot—and the ley line snapped back into place, vibrating. The horses all spooked; mine tried to rear, and I was very nearly unseated. The train picked up speed once more and disappeared among the hills, though a long, white plume of smoke continued to mark its position.
    The other ladies were rather shaken, and I pretended to be, so we made our way back to Haliwar Tower at once. Mr. Webb was ungentlemanly enough to remark that if we had not insisted on visiting the river (and, perforce, the railway), we should not have been discomfited, but he did not make a great point of it. And as we returned through the gate, I felt the same blurring of my sense of the ley line, though by then the detection spell was fading rapidly.
    So there is something about Haliwar Tower that dampens magic, or ley lines, or both together. It has the feel of something long-established, I think, though it is not easy to determine from inside. Still, it makes it unlikely that either of the Webbs is a magician, for they could not have failed to notice the problem, just as I have, and I am sure they would not have stayed here without attempting to do something about it.
    There is also the matter of the ley line, which ought to run right under Haliwar (or rather, Haliwar was built directly atop it). So James has written to London to discover whatever old records there may be of the history and ownership of the tower. Meanwhile, I have dropped a hint that a visit to Stockton for purposes of shopping would not come amiss. (Which indeed it would not—I am in need of curl papers and yellow embroidery silk—but I am hoping to find a local history, or at least a volume on ley lines, at a bookstore or circulating library. Ley lines are a rather specialized area of study, even for full wizards, and I of course am familiar only with what is common knowledge among magicians.)
    I trust the children are well and have created no permanent disasters, nor continued to populate your guest rooms with reptiles or other livestock. I do not, however, depend upon it. Give them my love.
Yours,
    Cecy

11 April 1828
Skeynes
    Dear Cecy,
    Heaven knows when I shall be able to send you this letter, for Thomas will have to enchant it for me. After ten years of study, I can dependably do the two spells Thomas taught me (finding him and calling him) and the spell Lady Sylvia showed me to keep my hair up, but I’m afraid that the fine points of magical cipher and anticipher will always be beyond me. I know Thomas despairs of me as a student. I cannot bear the cacophony of most spells, and I wonder at anyone who can.
    The Webbs sound on a par with snakes and frogs. You have all my sympathies. On top of all that, Daniel seems an even greater social burden than usual.