“We have to go,” Aiden said. “Come on.”
Emily followed her, something unpleasant churning in her gut. She’d failed. She’d caught the traitor, the spell-controlled traitor, but... she hadn’t found the proof she needed to present to the White Council. She’d been blocked at every turn, kept from convincing the two sides to come to the table as well as catching the person behind the chaos. She looked into the darkening sky and felt a shiver run down her spine. She’d failed. And hundreds of thousands of people were about to die.
The guns were growing louder. Emily gritted her teeth. It was rare for people to risk a battle at night, let alone in a burning city. And yet, Dater didn’t lack for nerve. He might well launch the attack now, counting on the confusion of the last few hours to keep the rebels from mounting a serious defense. Bajingan could have been in contact with him right from the start, sending messages to keep the royalists informed of what was going on. It could have been him who’d told them that Emily had spent the night with Aiden. It wasn’t hard to imagine him writing a message that would have implied, without ever quite spelling it out...
“I’m sorry,” she said. She wasn’t sure who she was apologizing to. “I don’t know what to do now.”
“We have to go to the council,” Aiden said, practically. “We’ll tell them what happened and...”
Emily nodded. She owed it to herself to tell the council the truth and then... she didn’t have the slightest idea what to do. The rebels had ordered her to leave... perhaps she could make a show of force, in hopes of convincing Dater to back off. But that would be a breach of the Compact and... she wondered, suddenly, if she should really care. The Allied Lands were on the brink of total chaos. It was hard to believe she could make things worse...
I could sneak into the camp and assassinate him and his brother, she thought. Dater would be well protected, of course, but she had access to his brother - and his brother’s blood. It wouldn’t be easy for the royalists to pick a new leader if they lose both heirs.
She ground her teeth. It would be utterly disastrous. The civil war would get worse. And she’d wind up in real trouble. Perhaps that was the plan. Push her into a corner, force her to do something that broke the Compact and put her on trial again...
... And yet, assassinating the royalist leadership was starting to sound like a very good idea.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“IF IT WAS HIM...” AIDEN SWALLOWED and started again. “If it was him... everything he knew might be known to the enemy.”
“It’s possible,” Emily confirmed. They hurried past a line of troopers as they made their way towards the castle. “And we may never know for sure.”
She sucked in her breath. Bajingan had known everything. He’d presumably known who was on the rebel council, who might be open to a negotiated settlement and who might want to fight to the last... hell, he’d known they’d all be in one spot so they could be assassinated as a group, an assassination that would have worked if Emily hadn’t been there. His controller could have sucked his mind dry of every piece of actionable intelligence, without alerting anyone. Bajingan himself might have had no idea he was an enemy agent until it was far too late. The spell had embedded itself so deeply within his mind that he couldn’t have separated its commands from his thoughts.
Aidan stopped and stared at her, sweat glistening on her face. “If he didn’t know he was the traitor... there might be others who don’t know they’re traitors, too.”
She paled. “How do you know I’m not a traitor?”
Emily hesitated. The completely honest answer was that she didn’t. It was possible Aiden could have been enchanted a long time ago, the spell buried so deeply within her mind that it would pass unnoticed... unless she stepped into a magic school. And yet... she’d scanned Aiden thoroughly after she’d been shot by Fran. The spell shouldn’t have passed unnoticed. Merely looking for it should have been enough to trigger the suicide curse.
“I scanned you after I got shot,” she said, finally. “I didn’t pick up any trace of a compulsion spell.”
Aiden looked as if she wanted to ask more questions, but - instead - resumed the run. The square outside the palace, where the queen had died only a few short hours ago, was crammed with guards setting up more and more barricades. The rebel staffers were making their way to the castle, leaving the palace behind. Emily wondered if that would turn out to be a deadly mistake. The castle was tough, but it had been built in the days before gunpowder and cannons. Dater could simply bombard it into rubble, if there wasn’t a secret passageway leading into the castle. Emily wouldn’t have cared to bet against it. King Randor’s castle had had dozens of secret passageways and hidden chambers. There were some so old she thought the king himself didn’t know they were there.
“We have to see the council, at once,” Aiden said, as the guards barred their way. “Quickly.”
Emily braced herself, ready to cast the compulsion spell again, but this time the guard simply led them into the palace and up a long flight of stairs. The building was being emptied, clerks and soldiers carrying boxes of paperwork into the courtyard and transporting weapons to the castle. Emily guessed they intended to burn the paperwork, just to make life harder for the royalists if they won the war. The rebels might have wanted to destroy everything even if they won, just to ensure the tax system would have to be rebuilt from scratch. It would probably lead to a fairer system.
Althorn met them as they stepped onto the roof. He looked tired, but there was a gleam in his eye that bothered Emily in a manner she couldn’t quite put into words. Beyond him, she saw the remaining councilors staring over the city. She could see fires on both sides of the wall as the fighting surged back and forth. The sound of gunfire was almost overwhelming. She didn’t know why they’d decided to hold the council on the roof.
“The king’s forces are rebelling,” Jair said, with heavy satisfaction. He let out an odd little laugh. “His army is dissolving even as we speak.”
Emily wondered if he was right. Althorn had claimed the rebels had allies amongst the king’s forces. The agitators might have had more luck than she’d expected, particularly if the royalists had overplayed their hand. Experienced soldiers would blanch at thrusting into a heavily-defended city, particularly at night. Denied a quick and cheap victory - and the spoils of war - they might choose to desert or mutiny instead.
“And we have armies in the field now,” Sergeant Oskar added. “It is only a matter of time before the king has to surrender or withdraw.”
“We have worse problems,” Aiden said. Her voice demanded attention. “Bajingan was a traitor.”
She outlined everything that had happened, giving Emily a chance to probe the rest of the council for signs of compulsion spells. There was nothing, save for Storm’s inherent magic. She hoped - prayed - that Bajingan had been the only one. It beggared belief that whoever was behind the whole affair could have enchanted everyone. Even getting Bajingan had required a great deal of luck, as well as careful preparation. They had to have embedded enough flexibility into their plan to account for surprises, particularly as they couldn’t have expected the necromantic war to end so quickly.
“What a remarkable story,” Jair said, when Aiden had finished. “And I suppose you expect us to believe it?”
“Think about it,” Aiden said. “The attacks, the strikes on our food and gunpowder stores... they couldn’t have happened without inside help. And who was in charge of providing passes to our troops? Bajingan. The terrorists had barrels of gunpowder assigned to them, perfectly legitimately, and used it against us. He who controls the paperwork controls everything.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Althorn looked surprisingly composed for someone who’d been told his closest ally had been a spell-controlled traitor. “There’s fighting all along the walls. The king’s forces are crumbling. If he keeps feeding them into our defenses, we’ll chew them to ribbons, breaking the only major army the royalists have in the field.
If he withdraws, we’ll have a victory and time to take the field ourselves. Bajingan’s treachery is no longer important.”
Jair glowered at Emily. “Were you not told to leave the city?”
“Bajingan insisted on it,” Aiden reminded him. She cleared her throat loudly as she looked from face to face. “Perhaps it is time to rethink that policy.”
Emily frowned. Master Lucknow wouldn’t shed a tear, she was sure, if she was killed in the middle of the fighting. A stray shot, a complete accident... it would be very hard for anyone to find her killer if the shooter didn’t know what he’d done. Master Lucknow would write a nasty obituary and go back to... to whatever he was doing. And yet, Bajingan had ordered her out. Had he been staying in character? Or... or what?
Another series of explosions echoed over the city. She turned to see a string of fireballs on the far side of the river, casting an eerie light over the scene before they faded into the darkness. She wondered, morbidly, what had just exploded, how many people had died in the blast. The rebels and the royalists were locked in a death match now, a war that would rage on until one side was utterly destroyed and the other exhausted beyond all hope of a speedy recovery. Dater would inherit a broken kingdom, if he won. He’d have to become subordinate to Red Rose and... maybe that had been the plan all along. She shook her head in tired disbelief. How many people were going to die to see the plan, whatever it really was, through?
“You might be wise to leave,” Althorn said. He sounded sympathetic. “I’m sorry your mission failed so badly. I had hoped the Crown Prince would see reason.”
Emily said nothing as she saw another explosion, far too close to the palace for comfort. The guards below shouted in alarm, some of them firing into the shadows. She had no idea what they’d seen, or what they thought they’d seen. She tensed, reaching for her magic as the madness raged on. People were dying below and yet... she felt oddly disconnected from the whole scene. She knew Althorn was right. She should go back to the house, collect Hedrick and Silent, and teleport out. It was her duty. And yet, she didn’t want to go.
Perhaps you could assassinate the royalist leadership and blame it on their subordinates, a nasty little voice whispered at the back of her mind. The aristocrats are known for being short-sighted. Killing their monarch as he commands their armies would hardly be out of character.
But it would just make the killing worse, another voice pointed out. Red Rose and the other kingdoms won’t leave a republic - or a dictatorship - alone. Even Alassa will have qualms. They’ll move to crush the rebellion and, just incidentally, carve up the kingdom amongst themselves.
“Ah,” Althorn said. “A message...”
Emily tensed, feeling an odd little prickle running through the air as a messenger stepped onto the rooftop. He wore a simple tunic and yet... there was a faint glamor surrounding him, so subtle it was hard to be sure it was really there. Althorn stepped forward, holding out a hand. The newcomer yanked a sword out of his belt and bisected Althorn in one smooth motion. Emily stared in horror, her eyes finally seeing through the glamor. Hedrick stood there, wearing a suit of charmed armor. He’d brought it... she cursed herself under her breath for the oversight. She’d rolled her eyes at the vast collection of clothes he’d wanted to bring. It hadn’t occurred to her that he could have buried an entire suit of armor under the clothes. It would have been a gamble, but not an insane one...
Aiden gasped. “You...”
Storm jumped up, jabbing a finger at Hedrick as he chanted a spell. Lightning flashed between them, spitting and sparking as it glanced off Hedrick’s armor. He hurled himself forward as Storm started to cast another spell, his sword striking Storm in the neck and beheading him. His head flew over the side of the palace and out of sight. Aiden darted forward, sword in hand; Hedrick crashed his blade into hers, snorted, and knocked it right out of her hand. Whatever else he was, he was a skilled swordsman. He drew back his blade and stabbed at her...
Emily cast a levitation spell on a piece of debris and hurled it at him. The armor would protect him from magic, but not from physical impacts. Probably. Hedrick grunted as the rock struck him in the chest, a dull gong echoing as he staggered back. Emily noted she should probably have aimed a little lower as he glared at her, madness clearly visible in his eyes. She felt a flicker of horror. She’d keyed the wards to make it hard for him to get out of the house, but he could have cut his way out with his blade. She wondered, suddenly, what had happened to Silent. The maid could hardly have stood in his way if he’d wanted out.
“Damn you.” Hedrick lunged forward, moving with surprising grace despite his armor and heavy broadsword. “You brought this on us...”
Emily darted back, casting a summoning spell on Aiden’s sword. It came to her, just in time to let her block his wild swing. The impact was hard enough to make her hand ache, nearly hard enough to force her to drop the sword. Hedrick rained blow after blow on her, forcing her to concentrate on defending herself rather than breaking his protections. She had to admit it was a good tactic. A few years ago, it would have worked.
A bang echoed through the air. Hedrick staggered as a bullet cracked into his back. Jair stood there, holding a smoking gun. The hatred on his face was almost palatable. Sergeant Oskar levelled a pistol himself, aiming at Hedrick’s skull. The prince growled and lashed out with his free hand. A wave of magic - a modified force punch - knocked them both to the ground. Hedrick inched forward, then turned in time to block the blow Emily aimed at his back. His armor was dented, but intact. The bullet hadn’t cracked the armor, let alone broken the skin.
“Get down to the ground,” Emily shouted. Aiden was picking herself up, her face riven with horror. She was staring at Althorn’s body. His death spelt disaster. “Hurry.”
Hedrick resumed the offensive. Emily grunted as she darted backwards, mustering her magic as quickly as she dared. There were ways to get through the suit, but they required time... she stepped back and back again, luring him towards the edge of the rooftop. Hedrick wasn’t thinking too straight... she reached out with her mind, swallowing a curse as she realized he’d been enchanted. She’d thought he’d come to assassinate the council, perhaps to serve his brother, but...
Someone pointed him at us, Emily thought. Someone powerful or skilled enough to get through the house wards, enchant him into a living weapon and send him into the palace to kill or be killed.
It made sense. Hedrick knew the palace like the back of his hand. He’d grown up in the palace. If there were any secret tunnels, he probably knew about them. He could have set off the explosion to distract the guards, then made his way into the palace. As long as he didn’t look out of place, and the glamor would see to that, no one would stop him until it was too late.
She reached the edge of the roof and teetered on the edge. She didn’t dare kill him. She needed to know who’d enchanted him, who’d cast the spell... Hedrick growled and lunged forward, throwing her off the ledge. Emily cast a levitation spell and hurled herself into the air, just in time to watch Hedrick tumble off and start to fall. She caught him with a spell, then summoned a pair of rocks and banged them into his armor. It was tough - and she didn’t want to throw the rocks hard enough to actually kill him - but she was sure it would stun him long enough for her to get through his defenses. She summoned a third rock and cracked it against his sword arm. He dropped the blade, which fell into the darkness. It was probably charmed to come when he called, but he’d have to think clearly to do that.
Emily spun him around and glided up behind him, then yanked his helm away from his head. Magic - dark magic - flickered and flared around her hands. She froze him in place, then - working with desperate speed - plunged her mind into his thoughts. The suicide spell flared to life...
Not this time, Emily thought. Not this time, damn it.
She gathered her willpower and caught hold of the spell, holding it tightly. She could feel the heat trying to burn through her mind - the spell was designed to be imp
ossible to remove - but she held it tightly. She wasn’t going to lose this witness. Hedrick’s thoughts pulsed around her, suggesting he was aware of the intrusion and trying to fight back. He didn’t seem to realize she was trying to save his worthless life. His memories pressed against her awareness, each one a flicker that faded almost before she was aware of it. An older boy - Dater, she assumed - a sword-teacher, a mother who’d died too young, a father who’d made it brutally clear Hedrick was the spare, an endless line of women...
What happened to you? Emily clung to the thought as she ploughed through his memories, looking for the truth. A vision of herself drifted across his mind... she shuddered in disgust, even as she forced herself to keep going. Who did this to you?
Hedrick’s thoughts screamed in agony, his mind threatening to break as she reached for the memory. Boredom. Waiting. Desire. And...
Silent?
The memory was so vivid Emily knew it was real. Silent had touched the prince’s mind and... Silent?
Emily fell out of Hedrick’s mind, losing her grip on the suicide spell. His body started to glow, then burst into flames. The magic consumed the levitation spell, sending the lifeless corpse to the ground. Emily nearly fell. Silent? It couldn’t be Silent. The maid had been with her for the last eighteen months.
And yet, the memories didn’t lie.
She lowered herself to the ground, unable to think clearly. Silent had been with her in Dragora. Silent had known about Simon. She could have tracked Simon, when he’d left the castle, and recruited him before anyone else knew he’d been kicked into the cold. And... she swallowed hard. Silent had known she’d intended to meet the moderates. She could have easily tipped off the hardliners. She could have set the bomb and enchanted Fran and passed commands to Bajingan and... Emily cursed, savagely, as the full scale of the betrayal struck her. Silent couldn’t have done it, any of it, without...
The Right Side of History (Schooled In Magic Book 22) Page 33