Spellbreaker (Spellbreaker Duology, #1)(24)
The Brookley chapel was a pleasant walk from the masonry shop, but Elsie didn’t mind the travel into London, even if the Wright sisters would surely gossip about the Ogden household’s “path to hell” again. After all, Squire Hughes went to the Brookley chapel whenever he was not in London, and he had a very obvious and annoying way of twisting the vicar around his fat finger. If the squire had his way, he’d rewrite the whole Bible. Still, it was a pity she would not be able to observe Mr. Parker from afar.
It was a gray day. Thick, brooding clouds stretched pale across the sky, making the air cool enough for a shawl. The three of them shared a carriage together—Elsie, Ogden, and Emmeline. Elsie peered out the window, searching the bustling streets and tight-fitted homes. A horseless carriage, propelled by aspected wheels, passed by them, and a few minutes later they passed a mill, far from any water source, that used the same spell to turn its turbine. Such spells were common in the city, but seen only on occasion in Brookley. Rumor said people were starting to use energy from such things to power lights in glass bulbs that had nothing to do with magic, but Elsie would believe it when she saw it.
The church was an old but lovely building, kept in good repair. Ogden led them toward the front of the chapel. This church employed a spiritual aspector, as many did. Although they were schooled in theology, they were not part of the clergy. Rather, they were icons to the faithful. Many of the devout viewed them as a means for miracles. Some believed the spell for invoking inner peace actually summoned the Holy Spirit, although Elsie suspected it was nothing more than a feel-good spell for the soul. Spiritual aspectors could also invoke truth and make it impossible for a person to lie, which could be useful in religion. It was certainly useful in law enforcement.
Not every church employed a spiritual aspector, but it helped their numbers to guarantee some sort of blessing at the end of a sermon. Simple ones, like good fortune, peace, or discernment—ones that couldn’t go sour or be misinterpreted. If someone wanted a blessing greater than that, well, he would have to pay for it just as he would for any other spell.
Elsie swallowed, and adjusted the collar of her dress, her corset feeling a little too tight. If Mr. Kelsey turned her in, would they send a spiritual aspector to force her to spill every secret she’d kept from infancy up?
“Oh, pretty,” Emmeline said beside her, and Elsie followed her gaze to what, at first glance, appeared to be an angel. But a closer look revealed the translucent image was simply a man. A rather normal-looking one despite the fact that he was translucent. An astral projection spell—a master-level spiritual spell, if Elsie remembered right.
Leaning toward Ogden, she asked, “Who is that?”
“I believe . . . yes, I think that’s Master Allen. He’s of the Physical Atheneum. Another aspector must be doing the projection for him.”
Master Allen’s ghost nodded to the vicar and sat in an invisible chair as the vicar approached the podium.
“If he lives in London,” Elsie went on, “then why does he need to be projected? And why here?” Though with how fuzzy his image was, he must be on the other side of the city. Close as she was, if Elsie were to project herself to the front of the room, it would be crisp enough for it to appear she had an identical twin.
Ogden shrugged. “I don’t know. Curious.”
Curious indeed. Elsie watched the master aspector for several moments after the sermon began, studying his faded features. A man present yet not. A man with nebulous motivations.
It made Elsie think of the Cowls.
They had not been in contact since the night she was caught. Part of her worried they would make no more use of her, either because she’d failed or perhaps because she’d identified Mr. Parker. And yet, spellbreakers were valuable. Maybe they needed her. She hoped they did.
Something else troubled her. Mr. Kelsey had been adamant the heat spell was merely a security measure. The cook Elsie had spoken to hadn’t seemed unhappy, although perhaps she’d been excited for an opportunity to win the favor of an overbearing employer.
Had Robin Hood ever made a mistake?
Quietly clearing her throat, Elsie forced herself to stare at the vicar and absorb his words, though his low voice quickly lulled her to drowsiness. Emmeline began to sway after a half hour, but Ogden was alert, his attention shifting back and forth between the man of God and the spiritual aspector who stood beside the podium. When the preaching concluded, the spiritual aspector waved his arms over the congregation. The slight tinkle of bells reached Elsie’s ears, and suddenly she felt very calm, as though an anvil had been lifted from her lap and a fur stole coiled around her shoulders. She might not have recognized the sensation as a spell had she not heard it first. A general blessing of peace was a novice-level spell, but to be able to cast it upon an entire congregation was actually a master-level spell. A spell that could be chained to pass from person to person, almost like a disease.
It tingled on the skin around her shoulders, and pretending she had an itch, Elsie swiftly removed it. She liked calmness, of course, but she’d rather feel it genuinely than have some wealthy stranger stick it to her like a briar.
She bowed her head with everyone else as a final prayer was offered. Elsie’s lips moved with one of her own—that the squire would keep Ogden thoroughly busy for the next week.
Hopefully the old church would magnify her heaven-directed plea.