Wands and Waistcoats

By Anita

Posted on Saturday, 1 November 2003

The old wizard lowered himself into the great chair of his library. His eyes did not leave the scene that played before him; he knew he had to catch every nuance of motion to anticipate disaster. He had witnessed this ceremony so many, many times through the years. He had performed this spell himself--and it had marked his emergence into the secret society of mages. He had himself attempted to teach this spell to acolytes--sometimes successfully. Twice, he had taught the spell to young men, in anticipation of their apprenticing themselves to his service. Twice, he would come to find himself betrayed.

But now, upon this third aspiring mage, he laid his hope and his pride. This one would, he prayed, would succeed, and come to assist him in his life's work. This would be the one that would follow in his footsteps. And for once, this apprentice would be his own offspring.

The apprentice's left hand waved over the open flames of a brazier. An incantation was murmured--and a small lizard like creature seemed to melt down from the flames and coalesce on coals. The tiny creature attempted a leap to the floor, but was caught by the apprentice. A salamander: a spirit of flame. More words were whispered over the closed fist, and when the fingers opened the reptilian form had changed. A tiny, human-like figure, a small girlish form lay curled within, glowing the color of embers. So human like, except for the small, barbed tail.

The imp roused herself, and opened her eyes to see her captor. She leapt into the air to escape. The apprentice's right hand flashed, and a miasma of sapphire blue fumed from pale finger tips, surrounding the spirit in a glowing globe. She struggled against the form of the sphere, but grew limp, and hung within the miasma, like a dragonfly in a cold amber.

The old wizard smiled. He dared not speak, but prayed that his student would focus all attention, would remember the next step, the incantation to be recited to bind the power of this spirit. It had taken so many months to prepare for this test....

The apprentice opened paled, taut lips to speak words engraved upon memory....

"LIZZY!"

Elizabeth Bennet started at the sound of the squall. Snapping her head around, she toppled forward onto the library's carpet, barely missing the hot brazier. As her father, Thomas Bennet, leapt from his chair to keep the brazier from tipping, the fire spirit awoke from the spell. She shattered her prison from within, dissipating the aether that had surrounded her. Chattering angrily in a tinkling sound, she flew nearly into Eliza's face. The creature stopped short, turned about neatly, and bending over, presented Eliza with a salute of her backside, and a rude noise to follow. The creature then flew off into the fireplace, giving Mr. Bennet a glare and a gesture as she passed him.

For a few moments, there was no sound in the library except for the snorts of Elizabeth's sister, Lydia.

Finally she gathered her breath.

"Oh Lord! What a joke! Such a sight you look, Lizzy. I am ever so glad I do not have to make such messes and such a fool of myself. And that funny little pixie--how rude she was to you! How droll! Where did she go?" Lydia walked over to the fireplace, and got down on hands and knees to peer in the logs. She grasped the poker, and started jabbing it among the logs.

"Lydia Bennet--". Lydia raised her head, and froze at the sight of her father's dark, angry eyes. Her father rarely lost his temper--and now was one of those occasions.

"I have repeatedly told you and Kitty NOT to come into the library, nor into any area where I am teaching Lizzy or Jane! You have repeatedly stated and demonstrated that you have no interest in learning these arts--I suggest then, that you absent yourself from any area where magic is in practice, and busy yourself with the decoration of bonnets, or netting of lace! But I do not wish to see you destroy anymore of our efforts!"

"Well, Mama sent me to ask that you speak with her--" suddenly Lydia yanked her hand back from the fireplace with a shriek. A tiny laugh burst from the logs.

"It burnt my finger! Nasty, horrid little imp!" Lydia scrambled to her feet, and glared at her sister. "I would much rather sit with Mary and read Fordyce than ruin my skin with stinking fires and ugly little imps!" With this declaration she flounced from the library before her father could say another word.

Mr. Bennet sighed and rolled his eyes. He looked at his second eldest daughter, still sitting on the carpeted library floor, and offered her a wry smile. Elizabeth, however, had her head buried in her crossed arms, resting upon her knees. There were no tears--just a long breath finally released. Her father bent down and put his hand upon her hunched shoulder.

"Lizzy, I am very sorry. You have three very silly sisters, and Lydia is indeed the worst of them all. However, it can't be helped, and we must deal with them as best we can. I shall do my best to keep her out of our way...and you shall try again my dear. You very nearly completed your spell--I am quite proud of you."

"Nearly, Papa..." Lizzy lifted her head to look at her father. "Nearly...but not completed. It took so long to find the ingredients for the spell."

"Yes, well...you were quite resourceful in finding those items...I am quite sure you will do just as well--even better the next time." Mr. Bennet stroked her hair, wishing for some way to encourage her.

"Papa...could we...."

"No Lizzy."

"Please? It need only be for a day..."

"No Lizzy. I will not turn your sister into a toad...even for a day. If I transform your sister whenever she vexes you, then I should have change Mary into an owl whenever she lectures Kitty."

"Papa, I did not ask you to transform Mary."

"No my dear, but Kitty did, and I cannot spend all my time changing my daughter from silly girls into silly animals and back again." Mr. Bennet walked over to the brazier and stirred the coals, ensuring the fire was out. He sat down in his chair with a sigh.

"Truly my dear, I wish I could help you, and all my dear family, with magic. But--the energy sources for magic are not infinite, Lizzy. I've taught you that. There are limited sources--pools of energy, if you will--and they grow fewer and fewer." He took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead. "Everything of magic grows more and more scarce. The energy pools lessen, they have become harder to find--and we mages, well, we lose more of our kind every year. Magic and its ilk are no longer welcome in this world. This is the Age of Reason. And the age of cold iron, machinery, factories, steam and dynamos....all this chokes off the lines of power, taints the energy pools."

Lizzy rose from the floor and went to hold her father's hand. "I know, Papa." She kissed the top of his head, and gave him a smile. "I was only teasing about bewitching Lydia...well, it was a momentary wish. But I was so close to completing the spell! The materials were not the only wasted--you know the incantation has fled from my mind, and must be memorized again! All those months of preparation!" She swallowed, to remove the quaver from her voice.

"I wish to help you, Father. I know that wizards are disappearing. And I know the few left may not be trusted to use the remaining energies wisely or humanely. I wish to be as good a wizard as you are. I know it takes me months to prepare spells that you enact in but a few days--but I hope to become better with practice. It is just so hard to work when the rest of our family--". There was suddenly a shriek of voices from outside the door.

"LYDIA! MAMA, SHE HAS TAKEN MY NEW RIBBONS FOR HER OWN BONNET! TELL HER SHE MAY NOT!"

"GIRLS PLEASE! MY NERVES! KITTY, LET HER HAVE THE RIBBONS, YOU HAVE PLENTY!"

"Mama, she always takes what is mine!"

"Well, Kitty, the color suits me far better, so it does not matter!"

"GIRLS, PLEASE GO OUTDOORS! Oh, Jane, I have such a headache, and I must still speak to your father. Come along, dear, they are hiding in the library..."

The door of the library opened to admit Mrs. Bennet, and her eldest and favorite daughter, Jane. Mrs. Bennet was aflutter with vexations and joy at once. Her patient daughter followed, offering a wry smile to her sister Elizabeth. Mrs. Bennet crossed the room, and dropped onto a well-stuffed couch.

"Well, Mr. Bennet! I have such news for you--but first I must complain. One of your little demons has injured my poor baby girl!"

"Madam, if you mean Lydia, she is 15 years of age and nearly grown--at least in height, if not in sense. And as she has done before, she disrupted your other daughter's studies. Then, poked her hands around a fire elemental, who objected to such treatment and responded in kind. I have advised her repeatedly against such carelessness! Even you should understand this, Mrs. Bennet--your own father would not have allowed his granddaughter in his own home with such nonsense!"

"Oh!" Mrs. Bennet looked up in shock. "Oh, please do not remind me of such things, Mr. Bennet! I hardly think in necessary to mention my dear late father's sorcery! To be sure, you, my father and my brother shared such embarrassing pastimes--but I prefer to remember my dear father's public career as a lawyer, like our brother Phillips. And my dear brother Gardiner is in a most respectable trade. And no one need think of me as anything but a gentleman's wife!" At that, Mrs. Bennet smiled in pleasure and smoothed the lace upon her skirt.

Mr. Bennet took off his glasses, and gave his wife a long look. "I am still surprised to hear you say such thing, my dear. Your father was well respected among England's wizards. Your sister's husband, Mr. Phillips--although he was not so skilled a wizard as your father hoped--he would have made a name for himself had he stayed in the profession." Mr. Bennet cleaned his glasses upon his vest and put them back upon his nose. "And I must remind you: although your brother Gardiner is retired from active sorcery, he still has an excellent reputation among magicians as a procurer of potions, herbals, and rare distillations and ingredients."

"Oh," Mrs. Bennet waved her hands, "Let us not speak of such things! We have no need for such nonsense, and I would not have you bringing sooty elementals into our house, nor teach our girls tricks and odd habits! It is bad enough that you encourage Lizzy to concoct these spells"--at this she paused to give a reproving look to her unrepentant daughter--"but you must also train my dear sweet innocent Jane in the arts of a common thief!" At this, Mrs. Bennet erupted with a wail and sob, and rummaged to find her handkerchief.

"Mrs. Bennet! Calm yourself. Jane is not trained for thieving--she is a burglar. There is quite the difference, but nowadays people do not discern it. Why your own brother"--again, Mrs. Bennet moaned--"is also one of the most skilled in this trade, and he himself says that Jane is quite proficient for her years. I daresay he will offer her an apprenticeship within the year. Please my dear--Jane, show your mother what you've learned."

He put his hand into his coat pocket, and drew out a beautiful marble egg, the size of a chicken egg. The striations of jade and emerald moved in lacy patterns over the pale lime green ornament. Jane stepped forward, blushing slightly--then fixed a cool eye upon the egg, taking it delicately. She ran her fingertips over the surface. She prodded one of the striations with a fingernail--there was a clicking sound, and in her hand lay two sections of the seemingly solid egg. Nested in one of the hollow sections was a brilliant emerald. Mrs. Bennet gasped. Jane smiled and handed the pieces back to her father, but he merely waved.

"No, my dear, that is yours as a reward. You see, my dear Mrs. Bennet? Our brother Gardiner sent me that egg for Jane to try. He declared that most of the young "professionals" in his acquaintance could not maneuver the mechanism in less than half an hour. But my this clever girl of yours..."

"Yes, yes, Mr. Bennet, but would it not be nicer to simply give her the stone? That way she need not ruin her hands, and might better spend her time instructing a jeweler on how to set it in a necklace. Oh, Jane, we must go to town to visit your Uncle Gardiner. We must go with your Aunt to visit the jewelers in London, for they are the very best. Oh, why did our brother not send the stone directly to the shops--this is very vexing for it wastes time! We must have a necklace made before you meet Mr. Bingley. Ah, your uncle must have wanted to treat us to a surprise--oh, and how clever and pretty an egg! Do you think you can close it again, my dear? We can shop for a little frame to display it..."

Mr. Bennet just gazed at Mrs. Bennet without speaking for a few minutes. Then, with a deep sigh, he asked a question.

"Who, pray, is Mr. Bingley?"

"Why, my dear, if you had attended, and come to me when Lydia asked, you would know all! He is the new young man in the neighborhood, and an income of 5000 pounds a year! There, so you see, you cannot have your daughters smudging their faces or scraping their nails if they are to make a good impression!"

"And where did you find the astonishing sample of bachelor?"

"Why, he has taken Netherfield! Netherfield is finally leased, after all this time!"

And for the second time that morning, the brazier fell to the floor. Mr. Bennet started at the name of Netherfield, kicking the innocent brazier with his foot. Both Elizabeth and Jane stiffened, glancing at each other with alarm--but maintaining their seats, as their mother continued her narrative.

"Yes, I did not think anyone would take old Netherfield after that mad old Tilney--well, my dear, your father and mine both remember that--that--wizard. I'm sure you will all agree, there was no great sorrow when he passed away. My dear girls---Old Tilney was a very wicked mage, truly quite mad--and the very reason I do not wish to see any of my family in any similar practice!" She sniffed, blinked a few tears and gave a reproachful look to Mr. Bennet.

"After he died, his son Major Tilney returned for about awhile. Major Tilney was a proud, insufferable man--but at least he had the good sense to leave wizardry, and enter the military. A very handsome young man at that time, in his uniform." She broke her reverie with a sigh. "Well, after a few months, Major Tilney returned to his command. He maintained his household there for another two years. And then the house was closed. It has been leased a few times--but no one has stayed more than five years. But now--". Mrs. Bennet rose, with a smile for her dear Jane.

"Come along my dear--Kitty and I are for Meryton. Come with us. Your father shall visit Mr. Bingley, perhaps today, my dear? And then we shall meet him at the Meryton Assembly, I've no doubt." Mrs. Bennet stepped lightly from the room, her spirits greatly elevated. Jane glanced back at her father and sister; at his nod, she followed her mother. The library door shut in the heavy silence. Mr. Bennet did not look at Elizabeth, but quietly asked:

"Do you understand Elizabeth?" She nodded.

"Your mother does understand this much--Old Tilney was, indeed, mad--and bad. There was very black magic practiced at Netherfield in the old days--your grandfathers Bennet and Gardiner worked very hard to keep Tilney's work in check. Truly we were all grateful when his son left the family to join the military--vowing never to deal with his father so long as the old devil lived."

"But father," whispered Elizabeth, "the secrets within the house--"

"Yes child." Mr. Bennet rubbed his temples, a fierce headache overtaking him. "Yes, Tilney left many secrets in that house. We believe there are secret chambers, artifacts--and what results of his magic, we do not know. Your uncle Phillips and I have entered that house in the past, visiting each tenant as they came--always hoping to gain access to the mysteries that we know are hidden there. But we have failed, no matter how much time we spent at the estate. Fortunately, none of the families that came to, and left, Netherfield were the wiser of Tilney's work."

"But what of this Mr. Bingley?" asked Elizabeth. "Do you think he knows of Netherfield's history? After all, the estate has been closed up for so long! The house has been of no interest to anyone--why has he taken this house?"

"We know as much as mother says." The third voice startled Lizzy and Mr. Bennet, despite its softness. They turned to see Jane standing just inside the library doors.

"According to Mrs. Long, he is a bachelor with an inheritance nearly a hundred thousand pounds. Lady Lucas reports that he is young, and our Aunt and Uncle Phillips have learned that his family's fortune came from the carriage trade. His father intended to purchase an estate, but did not live long enough to do so. That is why Mr. Bingley now comes to Hertfordshire. Sir William states the family is from the North of England, and of very respectable reputation. He has a sister who shall keep house for him, and is bringing forty servants. Oh, and there shall be a party accompanying him to Netherfield--Kitty heard it consists of six ladies and four gentlemen, but Lydia declares twelve ladies and seven gentlemen..."

"Too many ladies," observed Elizabeth.

"...and I have sent off a letter to our Uncle Gardiner asking for confirmation of this news, and any further information he might acquire in London."

"Jane?"

"Yes Papa?"

"I thought you were gone to the Meryton with your mother and Kitty? How did you escape?"

"Oh, we went to the front parlor, but heard Kitty crying because Lydia stole a blue glass bottle from her dressing table. Mama went upstairs to scold Kitty for upsetting Mama's nerves--that normally takes about 10 minutes, so I wrote a quick note to Uncle Gardiner, gave it to the Hill to post, and came back up here through the passageway that opens up behind that bookcase." Jane pointed to the bookcase at the left of the library door--a bookcase that now betrayed a slight crack of an opening behind it, with a thin breeze of cool air escaping through.

"How...long have you known about that passage?" inquired Mr. Bennet.

"Oh, since two summers, Papa," replied Jane. "Remember when you asked us to help you clear debris from the tunnels underneath the garden. Since that time, Lizzy and I have explored the grounds. I believe we have found most of the tunnels and hidden passages in the house and under the garden. Oh! I hear Mama. I'd best hurry back to the front parlor before she comes down stairs."

Mr. Bennet just stared for a moment, then smiled weakly and nodded at his eldest child. Jane smiled in reply, then turned to the bookcase, tugged gently at the back panel, and slipped into the shadows behind. The bookcase eased back into position with a gentle click.

Mr. Bennet gazed at the wall where his daughter had disappeared. His smile suddenly grew wider, and grew to a chuckle. He turned to his second child.

"Well, Lizzy. I see no reason to visit Mr. Bingley. Instead, I shall send my eldest sneak thief, Jane. Her beauty, her sweet smiles and gentle manner, her skills of reconnaissance and stealth--her lock picks!--the man stands no chance. I feel quite sorry for him. Yes, I daresay that Jane would know every room of Netherfield within a week, were I to loose her upon poor Mr. Bingley." Mr. Bennet's smile faded.

"Indeed, were I not fearful of what Tilney left behind, I might do so." Mr. Bennet shook his head, as if shaking off cobwebs. He raised his head to Elizabeth and smiled at her once again.

"Well, if the prospect of Netherfield is too dangerous for Jane, perhaps I shall send you. Would you like to test your wits, and magic, on our new neighbors? Or perhaps test your charms? Your mother is quite determined that you girls will meet this Bingley. Perhaps she is right--I have been diverting your attention from your proper lessons for all these years. Yes, from now on, I will put your education into the hands of your youngest sisters. For no one knows better than they how to be flirtatious, silly girls--although I fear you are hampered by your good sense. But I am sure they will repair any damage I have done."

Elizabeth laughed, and replied to her father with mischief in her eyes.

"Perhaps, sir, you should send your third stealthful daughter, as they do in fairy tales, and she will do the trick."

"My third? I have another daughter with some wit? I was not a widow when I married your mother, Lizzy. You have no secret half-sisters, that I remember."

"No sir--I mean Lydia, who is creeping about in the garden--just behind the rosebushes outside your library window. Oh, please do not turn sir--I believe she hopes to remain unseen."

"Hmph. Have you any guess as to why she is lurking outside this room?"

"Well, she is holding a blue glass bottle--likely the one she stole from Kitty's dresser. I would guess she would like a potion or elixir from your stores. She has tried this once before, you may recall."

"Yes... I believe she hoped I had made love philters, or that I would have a receipt for one. I am safe in assuming this batch will be intended for Mr. Bingley?" Elizabeth gave a small laugh at her father's deduction.

"Likely, Papa. She has probably heard some bit of news about his appearance or features or the cut of his clothes, and is quite determined to be better prepared than her sisters. She can be quite industrious when motivated."

"Well, I had always hoped for proof of some ambition. Here, let me offer some motivation to her." Mr. Bennet turned away from the window and toward the now cooled brazier. He dipped his fingers into the charred remains, and dug out some ashes. Elizabeth heard him murmur small words, then saw him turn, raise his hand to his lips, and blow the ashes toward the windows. They waited.

There was a fantastic shriek from the rosebush--and shortly there was the sight of Lydia running around the garden, then out to circle the house, flapping her skirts wildly, wailing like a treed kitten.

"Papa!" cried Elizabeth, "What bee did you put in Lydia's bonnet?"

"No my dear--a salamander in her skirts. At least in the hem. If she wishes to be better acquainted with magic, she may very well learn the difference between a elemental and a 'pixie'. It dare say she shall become sensible of its character and humor, and shall not mistake one for the other anymore. Perhaps your elemental shall learn more of Lydia--and be heartily sorry of it. You may find it in better behavior, when next you conjure it. Ah! You are smiling again--may I hope your outlook is more cheerful?

"Indeed Papa," said Elizabeth with a laugh, "to be sure, Lydia is not a toad, but this will suffice!" She kissed her father upon the cheek, and took his arm.

"For this generous act, sir, I promise you: we shall meet this Mr. Bingley. And if he, and his party, are anything more than simple neighbors--Jane and I will find out. If they prove to be any trouble to you, no matter how many charming, eligible men there may be--Jane and I will drive them out of Netherfield!"

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