“I’ve slept in worse places,” Louise said. “I had to share a dorm with Ayesha and Zeya McDonald.”
“You poor thing.” I had to smile. Ayesha and Zeya McDonald had been so snooty that they made Alana look like a commoner. “That must have been terrible.”
“I’m sure the comfortable beds made up for it,” Caroline said. She looked around, her eyes narrowing. “We’ll continue our investigation. You can ... start laying your plans.”
“Thanks.” Louise’s voice dripped sarcasm. “I didn’t know I needed your permission.”
I held up a hand before Caroline could say anything. “We have to catch the terrorists,” I said, for what felt like the hundredth time. I couldn’t afford to forget that. I couldn’t allow myself to become distracted. “And that ...”
Something flickered, outside in the gloom. I looked up, an instant before the window shattered ...
... And a man in black crashed into the room.
Chapter Thirty-One
I grabbed Louise by the arm and yanked her behind me, propelling her towards the door as the man in black stabbed with a spellcaster. A flash of green light shot past, splashing harmlessly against the wall. I cursed under my breath - an assassination spell, rather than something more destructive - and threw back a spell of my own. The assassin muttered a word I didn’t recognise as the spellcaster shattered, then cast another spell. I felt it dong against my wards, sending me stumbling back. He was strong.
“Get Louise out of here,” I shouted to Caroline. “Go home. I’ll deal with him.”
The assassin threw himself forward, slamming into me. I fell back as our wards collided, our magics grappling on a dozen levels at once. He was trying to kill me. I gritted my teeth, then compressed a pressure spell and threw it at him. The force of the impact should have smashed his bones to powder. Instead, he flew back and landed neatly on the far wall. I was reluctantly impressed, even as I hurled another spell that shattered the wall into powder. I didn’t think I could have pulled that off.
Caroline hurried past, catching hold of Louise and rushing her down the stairs. I hoped she’d have the wit to take Louise to our inn, then put the thought out of my mind as the assassin ran across the ceiling and dropped down on me. I caught his arm and twisted it, trying to hurl him to the floor. He rolled, dodging a blow that should have smashed him flatter than a pancake. His answering blast missed me by bare millimetres - I felt a wave of heat prickling my skin - and tore through the ceiling. The entire building shook. I heard shattering windows and falling debris in the distance. I hoped - desperately - that Louise and Caroline had made it out.
The assassin growled, his magic curling into a whip and lashing out. I sidestepped it, then jumped forward. Power shimmered around me as I punched him again and again, each blow powerful enough to break bones. He countered with a technique I’d never seen before, the air around him hardening for a few brief seconds ... just long enough to block my blows before I killed him. The building shuddered again, the wooden floor starting to give way underneath our feet. I cursed as he slammed a punch into my chest, hurling me back. I heard more falling debris as the assassin stood, magic crackling around his hands. He was going to kill me ...
I summoned my own magic and threw myself forward, slamming into him with all the force I could muster. We plunged back, smashing through the remnants of the wall and falling down to the alley below. I thought I saw him grimace as he hastily cast a levitation spell, a fraction of a second too late. The impact knocked the wind out of both of us. I forced myself to stagger to my feet, silently thanking Sir Muldoon for his lessons. He’d made me work to build up my endurance. The assassin seemed to have similar training.
He rolled to his feet, his hands moving in a complex pattern. I sensed the curse building and ducked, casting a levitation spell on everything within reach as a nasty-looking flash of eldritch light shot past. Homeless people ran in all directions as my spell scooped up debris and threw it at him, trying to punch through his wards. He wove a complicated protective spell as I channelled two extra spells of my own, throwing more and more magic into the morass. I gathered myself, then ran forward. His spells snapped and snarled at both of us. I smirked, remembering my instructors. They’d cautioned me - time and time again - about the dangers of accidentally mixing up my targets. The assassin hadn’t had time to protect himself from his own spells.
I shoved forward, bringing my magic into close contact with his. His face twisted into a snarl as I pushed harder, trying to rip his spells apart. It was an endurance test now. The loser would be the one who ran out of magic first. I felt my head start to pound as I whaled on him, shaping my magic into a sharp knife to cut through his wards. His hand came up, twisting oddly. I barely had a second to see the tiny spellcaster in his palm before he jabbed it at me. The fireball threw me back along the alley, dumping me in a muddy puddle.
“Bastard,” I managed. I should have seen that coming. The assassin, whoever he was, was no slouch. “You ...”
The assassin stood and stalked towards me. I tried to stand, but my body was hurting too much. I felt cold, cold and wet as he raised his hand. I could sense a curse crackling around his fingertips. I swallowed, hard. I wasn’t going to die, not before I’d earned my spurs. I reached out with my magic, yanking on what remained of the pub’s wall. A shower of debris crashed down. He glanced up, deflecting the debris and giving me a chance to pull myself up and throw myself on him. I pulled a cuff out of my belt and shoved it against his chest. His magic sparkled and died. I didn’t need to wrap it around his wrist ...
His eyes hardened, then went blank. His entire body relaxed. I blinked in surprise. A trick of some kind? Or ... or what? His eyes were completely blank. He looked like a newborn baby, not a trained assassin. I carefully cuffed him, then searched his outfit. Another tiny spellcaster, no bigger than a small pencil; a spellbreaker ... a couple of Devices of Power I didn’t recognise ... and a small pouch of money. There were no papers, no clue as to his name. I sat back, studying him. His face was completely unknown.
He had some training, I thought. It was a colossal understatement. He’d come within bare seconds of killing me. An aristo? Or ... what?
“Get up, scum,” I ordered, stiffly. “Who are you?”
He said nothing. He made no move. His mouth opened, emitting a trickle of drool. I recoiled in disgust, a chill running down my spine. He could have been faking it, but ... I leaned forward, casting a diagnostic spell. There was a hint of magic - a potion - in his mouth. When I took a sample, the magic dimmed. I shuddered as I carefully preserved as much as I could. The potion - whatever it was - was clearly dangerous.
“Fuck,” I muttered. “What am I going to do with you?”
I hesitated, then cast a transfiguration spell and turned him into a small statue. It wouldn’t last, but I needed to move. The guardsmen might have heard the commotion, wherever they were. The entire pub was on the verge of collapse. I shoved the statue and his gear into my pocket, then turned and ran. I couldn’t afford to be caught, not now. The guardsmen would ask questions I couldn’t even begin to answer.
Louise would have been killed, if we hadn’t been with her. My heart twisted at the thought. Louise had good marks in defensive magic, but the assassin had been an order of magnitude more dangerous than anyone we’d duelled in class. Someone told the bastard where to find her.
I felt my body start to ache as I made my way through the alleyways, finally emerging a little too close to my father’s shop for comfort. The streets were deserted, even though night was falling rapidly. A handful of bodies lay on the corner, battered into bloody pulps and stripped naked. I shuddered as I recognised one of the guardsmen we’d met, back before the first infernal device had detonated. It looked as if they’d been beaten to death by overwhelming force.
“May your ancestors bless you and take you,” I said. No one deserved to die at the hands of a mob. “And may you be welcome in their hallowed halls forever.”
“Adam!” Caroline caught my arm as I nearly collapsed. “What happened?”
“I got him.” I pulled the statue from my pocket and shoved it at her. “He’s not quite himself.”
Caroline nodded and pressed a bottle of water to my lips. Louise was sitting on the bed, staring at me. I must have looked terrible. My face was black and blue, my cloak was soaked in muddy water ... I probably looked unrecognisable. The water tasted so pure I wanted to keep drinking. I nearly snapped at Caroline when she pulled the water away.
“Help me get undressed,” I said. My fingers felt numb. “Check me for damage.”
Caroline nodded and went to work. “You’ve got a couple of broken ribs and a whole collection of bruises,” she said, as she undressed me carefully. “Give me a moment and I’ll heal you up.”
Louise stepped over to me. “What happened?”
I focused as Caroline started casting healing spells. “He nearly killed me,” I said. The entire fight was a blur. “I got the drop on him. Got the cuff on him. And he just ... went blank.”
“Blank?” Louise helped hold my arms so Caroline could heal the bruises. “What do you mean, blank?”
“He looked and acted like a baby,” I said. My body felt better, but the aches and pains were still gnawing at my mind. “I couldn’t get anything out of him.”
“Have a wash,” Caroline said, once she’d finished. “And then we’ll look at your prisoner.”
Louise let out a gasp as I removed the rest of my clothes and stumbled into the bathroom. I didn’t know why she was so surprised. She’d seen me naked before. Perhaps she was just surprised I’d undressed in front of Caroline. The shower was as pathetic as I’d expected - it dribbled so weakly that I would have had a better wash if I’d danced in the rain - but at least the water was warm. I eyed the growing collection of bruises on my skin as I towelled down, feeling a little bit stronger. The assassin had come far too close to ending my career before it was begun.
“Put him in a containment circle,” I said. The assassin hadn’t tried to free himself from the spell, which was odd. Students learnt such spells very quickly or they spent much of their schooling as frogs or statues or whatever. “And then we can see what we can learn.”
Caroline set up the circle, then muttered the counterspell. The statue warped and twisted, then morphed back into the assassin. The man stared at the ceiling, unmoving. I thought for a moment he was dead, before I saw the steady rise and fall of his chest. He was breathing, but not much else. Caroline leaned forward, casting a handful of spells. Her dark eyes narrowed as the results came back. I could tell she didn’t like them.
“There’s very little brain activity,” she said. “I’d say he was in a coma if his eyes weren’t open.”
Louise leaned forward. “Is he faking it?”
“I don’t think so.” Caroline sounded doubtful. “It would be like pretending to be dead by committing suicide.”
“Ouch,” I said. “Who is he?”
“I don’t know,” Louise said. “A Rubén? He’s got the blond hair.”
“Wrong shade,” Caroline said. “House Rubén prides itself on golden hair.”
I nodded. Akin - and his disgraced sister - both had golden hair, hair so bright it practically shone under the sunlight. Every Rubén was blond, save for those who’d married into the family. The assassin, however, wasn’t that blond. His hair was more sandy than golden.
My eyes looked him up and down as Caroline carefully undressed him. His face was bland, utterly forgettable. There was no hint of strong character or crippling weakness, nothing that would make him stick in my mind. His hair was short, probably tinted ... his eyes were blue, his nose just a little too small. I could have passed him on the street and never taken notice of his presence. I supposed that was what someone would have wanted, in an assassin. A man who could walk into a house and kill without being noticed would be very useful indeed.
Caroline poked him with her magic. “Very healthy, probably a combination of heavy training and exercise mixed with potions. Quite muscular ... strong enough to give someone a hard time without magic. No obvious injuries, beyond the beating he took today, save for some traces of internal scarring. I’d say he undertook a training regime like ours.”
Louise coughed. “Are you saying he’s a Kingsman?”
“No,” Caroline said. “I’d say he was trained as a lone operator.”
“By whom?” I scowled. There weren’t many suspects. “What are we dealing with here?”
I listed the options, one by one. “The Great Houses - or Magus Court - could have trained him,” I said. I looked at the assassin’s collection of tools and nodded to myself. “The King could have trained him too, I suppose. But there aren’t many other possible suspects.”
Louise looked up. “Prince Jacob?”
“He wouldn’t want to kill you,” Caroline pointed out. “You’re nothing to him.”
“And if he did have a trained assassin on his payroll, he’d have bigger and better targets,” I said, before Louise could snap at Caroline. “He’d be killing people in North Cairnbulg.”
“True,” Caroline agreed. “Zadornov?”
“What?” Louise stared at her. She’d clearly heard of the man. “Zadornov?”
“We had a bit of a run-in with him,” I said. I didn’t want to tell her everything. “But I can’t see him sending a trained assassin to get us.”
“He certainly has reason to want us dead,” Caroline pointed out. “We’re assuming Louise was the target. But it could have been us instead.”
“Perhaps,” I said. I wasn’t so sure. Zadornov would presumably prefer an uneasy stalemate to an all-out war with the Kingsmen. Magus Court wouldn’t shield him if King Rufus wanted his head. There were certainly no political considerations that might mandate standing up to the king. “But it would be one hell of a risk.”
“True,” Caroline said.
She studied the potion in the assassin’s mouth. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” she said. “Have you?”
“No.” I’d never had the knack for potions. I’d mastered the basics to pass my exams, but I lacked the insight that would have made me a Potions Master. I couldn’t even begin to analyse the mystery potion. “What do you think it does?”
“I don’t know,” Caroline admitted. She put the sample back in stasis. “We need an expert. A real expert.”
I frowned. “Rebecca Travis?”
“She’s still studying for her mastery,” Caroline said. She smiled when I shot her a questioning look. “Didn’t you notice the paperwork on her desk?”
“No.” I shook my head. “And we don’t know if we can trust her either.”
Louise leaned forward. “What about Magistra Loanda?”
“... Good thought,” I said. “Although she did give me a few hundred million detentions.”
“You exaggerate,” Louise said. She laughed, sweetly. “It was only a hundred million detentions.”
“You’re both mad,” Caroline said. She rolled her eyes at us. “And besides, do we have any other options?”
I considered it, but drew a blank. There were no other Kingsmen in the city. We might not have time to take the sample out of the city. And the vast majority of Potions Masters within Shallot were either aristos or aristo clients. Magistra Loanda was the only one I could think of who didn’t have strong ties to the aristocracy. Hell, she had a long-standing rivalry with Lady Sorceress Sofia Aguirre. She migh
t help us, if only to embarrass her rival.
“I’ll go tomorrow,” I said. It was already dark outside. I doubted it would be safe to try to cross the bridges tonight. Besides, I needed a rest. My body was reminding me just how close I’d come to being killed. “In fact, I’ll go alone. Louise needs a bodyguard.”
“And I’m elected?” Caroline didn’t look pleased. “Why me?”
“Because you’ll cause less comment if anyone sees you, I suppose,” Louise said. She didn’t look pleased either, but at least she wasn’t trying to argue. Instead, she pointed to the assassin. “What are we going to do with this fellow?”
“We keep him in stasis,” I said. I wasn’t sure the assassin could eat or drink anything, in his current state. It was starting to look as if his brain had been wiped clean of everything. “And see what Magistra Loanda has to say.”
“Good, I suppose,” Louise said. She grinned, suddenly. “So tell me ... which of us is getting the bed?”
“You two can share,” I said. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Louise winked at Caroline. “You’ve got him well trained.”
“Oh, shut up,” I said. I cast a spell, putting the assassin in stasis. “We’d better get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a whole new day.”
“Yeah,” Caroline said. “And all hell is going to break loose.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Caroline was right, I decided as I walked to the bridges. All hell was on the verge of breaking loose. The streets were dominated by angry men, while the schools were closed and the vast majority of shops were under heavy guard. I hoped the students I’d tutored were safe, wherever they were. There were no women or children in evidence as I passed through the gentrified section, then crossed the bridges. A small army of guardsmen kept watch on the far side. It looked as if they’d chosen to withdraw from the remainder of Water Shallot.
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