Soul of Magic: Book 1 of the Chronomancer Series

by Mark August

  They broke the confident woman who pulled her way up from the Northern States with her younger brother to start a new life in Caesea. If the Duke and his guards tortured her—Kincaid’s mind raged at the thought. He watched the Duke hand her back to the guards. She didn’t struggle with the rough movement.

  “This changes your calculation, doesn’t it?”

  Oh, this changes everything. Find out what he wants first.

  “My Lord. I don’t understand your request.”

  “Kincaid. Show us you can use magic.”

  “I don’t know how to do that. I’m a journeyman carpenter—”

  “Who killed three armed men and destroyed the floor of a stone building. My patience with you is about gone. Do you still think I’m buying this story?” The command voice boomed through the cell block. Muscles tensed, and guards itched to respond. Kincaid couldn’t take his eyes off his captured sister.

  “Even with the presence of his sister, he isn’t pulling magic from the arcane side, Father.”

  Kincaid tore his eyes from his sister and examined the woman, the daughter. She had to be younger than Kincaid and his sister. The sorceratti was a tool of the Duke and part of the ruling family itself. There was something different in her eyes now.

  “You should rethink your position quickly, Kincaid. I’ll give you more time to consider your fate. And that of your sister. To make sure you understand this, I want you to listen clearly.” The Duke paused and pulled in a deep breath. “Liane the journeyman, I sentence you to execution for the use of magic within the confines of the city of Caesea.”

  “She didn’t—”

  “What if she did, Kincaid? I know someone brought down that shop within my section of the city. Someone used magic to do it. I don’t care which one I execute first.”

  The guards took her deeper into the prison.

  Thirty-Two

  Attius - A Sister's Plight

  Attius and his daughter strolled away from the prison, and the pair of guards stepped back to a considerate distance. A second pair of guards took Liane away. Attius wished Kincaid’s sister would struggle or put up a fight. He wanted a reaction from the prisoner to move his plan forward.

  “That was a dangerous move, Father.”

  “I thought it was crucial to get the man to talk.”

  “No, not sharing the intelligence with me that led to the capture of the man’s sister. I walked into that prison without knowing what you planned again.”

  Attius stopped in the courtyard. Fall was one of his favorite seasons of the year. From his offices, he could gaze out across the bay to view the blurs of colors of trees preparing for the winter chill. On a clear day, he could imagine the leaves drifting to the ground in a delicate pattern. He remembered the campaigns on the mainland and the crunch under his feet. Those times were simple. These were not.

  “I assumed you would be prepared for a magical incident. That’s why you are the sorceratti.”

  Rage flashed in his daughter’s eyes. Realizing her mistake, she unclenched her fists and relaxed her face. She found her words again. “I’m not a circus animal that performs tricks at your command.”

  “No, but you are the one who is trained in magic. I need you to be prepared for this prisoner.”

  “I can’t believe you.” Vedette didn’t wait for him to acknowledge her departure and stormed toward the gateway to the next courtyard.

  “Vedette, wait.”

  She ignored him. The pair of guards pretended not to acknowledge the confrontation. The Duke sighed and picked up his pace to catch his daughter in the next courtyard.

  The House of Atros covered several city blocks. The complex was separated into four squares, each joined by an elaborate gate leading to elaborate courtyards. Other than the prison area, the remaining open areas were covered with grass, statues, and trees. Gardeners worked throughout the year to keep the gardens alive and thriving. To the outside world, the House towered with walls like a castle. To the residents and workers of the House, the structure was a mansion of wealth and power. Every item was cultivated to present this image.

  Vedette’s pace slowed, and she walked through the gardens. Flowers and shrubs nurtured from the Empire produced a satisfying impression of mellow hues and soft greens. Attius wondered how much longer the gardeners could keep this section alive.

  “I understand why you are mad at me.”

  “Do you think the carpenter's sister is also a wizard?”

  Attius wasn’t ready for that question. He should have recognized that possibility when he put this part of his plan into motion. More than one wizard in that shop changed everything.

  “See, you should have talked to me about this plan. I can help you. If you let me.”

  “Do you think the sister is also a wizard?” He was sincere about the question and didn’t care for his daughter’s smirk with her reply.

  “I think she would have burned us to the ground when you pulled that bag off her head. But I didn’t sense a trickle of power.”

  “But the man didn’t summon power with this sister bound and gagged.” It was Attius’ time to smirk.

  “Magi Cormac sensed power in the man.”

  The Duke of Caesea dropped his hands to his sides. He missed the exchange between his sorceratti and his prisoner. The danger of using the carpenter's sister as a weapon didn’t calculate in his plan until his daughter brought it to his attention.

  “We need to confirm this man's power.”

  “Yes, but I don’t know what to expect from an untrained wizard.”

  "We both know he used magic to bring down that shop, Vedette. Our plans depend on it."

  “Which makes your plans more dangerous. If you push him into a place where he has nothing to lose, we may not control the outcome.”

  Attius considered her words. This boy could threaten his plan. He had to put his pieces back under his control.

  Vedette filled the silence. “Magi Cormac would be useful to learn more about the brother and sister. He could help us.”

  “No. Cormac stays where he is. If Kincaid has any level of magic, I need them both in that prison. And you can’t be down there talking to him.”

  Vedette threw her hands up in the air and then crossed them across her chest. She shook her head. “Father, I don’t understand what role you want me to play. At one moment, I’m an important member of the family. By the next, I’m a pawn in your plans to manipulate the houses. At the worst, I’m some magical guard to ward away things you don’t understand.”

  He let her settle before responding. “Cormac is an interesting part of the plan.”

  “He can take lives without moving a finger. And you’ve locked him away in our prison. This isn’t a game where you control the pieces.”

  “We are all pieces. Even among the powerful nations, we are just small parts. Each of us has our small part to play in a greater plan.”

  “I hope not,” Vedette muttered under her breath but loud enough for Attius to catch.

  He lowered his head and raised an eyebrow at her. “We have a shrinking window of advantage with the boy and his sister. We need to use this as leverage.”

  “There are times you have to trust me. Especially in these matters. How did you find her?”

  “The hospital. She was visiting the master of the shop. He’s alive, but he wouldn’t survive a day in prison. We couldn’t find others who worked in the shop, but we could find the owner.”

  “She saw him use magic?”

  “Yes, very much so. She is scared by what she saw. I think she will help us.”

  Thirty-Three

  Attius - City Council

  Who ordered this meeting? The Duke pushed that thought aside.

  The summons by the City Council enraged the Duke of Caesea. He ordered emergency sessions of the Council, and he could order a temporary ban on their assembly. He was bracing for war.

  Storming into the council halls and unleashing his wrath on the huddled famili
es would be satisfying but not productive. He needed intelligence, not violence.

  He paused at the elaborate doors to the City Council chambers as the guards waited for him. His arms hung by his side, and his head tilted down. The city guards maintained their stoic presence and didn't shift their gaze toward the man deep in thought. He drew in a slow breath and readjusted his cloak. His posture straightened, and he nodded to the guards.

  With precision, they opened the double doors to the room already loud with shouting voices and hot tempers. Instead of striding toward his lofty chair in the heart of the room, Attius took three strides and stayed near the master of ceremonies. The elderly man served the city and its council for over a decade. He cast a supportive glance toward the Duke as they stood by for a lull in the argument. Attius squeezed the man’s arm and nodded.

  “Lords and ladies of the City Council of Caesea, the Duke, Lord Atros.”

  The outburst of voices answered the formal announcement. The Duke took his time with measured paces toward the table. Each stride marked a moment in time, and each footfall closer to the table quieted the exchange of words. At only four paces from the table, the chamber was silent. Attius didn’t brandish weapons at his approach. He stepped around the table and rested in his seat. The cushion felt like a prison chair today.

  As he pulled himself in, the accusations flew. The voices were jumbled and fast, and he could only pick through a few words at a time.

  “You’re keeping this other—”

  “You threaten the—”

  “I’m outraged, Attius.”

  “Irresponsible, right before—”

  “Why?”

  The Duke noted the comments and examined the expressions on his peers’ faces. Some had genuine looks of distrust, and some would act out their role to the best of their ability. He paid close attention to the posture of those who said nothing. He raised his hand for attention, but the rush of impassioned words continued.

  Attius deliberately picked up his gavel and slammed it on the table. The guards in the room jumped to a ready position with bared steel. The room fell silent.

  He laid the gavel back on the table and glanced at each member of the City Council. He barked his first command. “The guard will return to their duty. I do not believe there is a threat to the members of the City Council, whatever they might believe.” Weapons disappeared from view as the guards obeyed. He left the words hanging in the air.

  “Shall we begin with the city business? I understand we’ve called together an emergency hearing.”

  Blank faces. Good, caught them by surprise.

  Silvia was composed and recognized his game. She would. “Yes, my Lord. A point of order.”

  “Proceed.”

  “The first item of this emergency session is the use of magic within the confines of our city. I propose we execute city laws.”

  Her allies didn’t hesitate.

  “Second.”

  “Third.”

  Attius nodded at the formal proposal and picked up the gavel to tap the table. He could play this game. “Very well, I accept the point of order for this meeting of the City Council. What is the issue?”

  The voices broke out again. They weren’t organized, and the distress in Silvia’s eyes soothed his uneasiness. He could keep them divided.

  Attius didn’t bother with hand raising for silence and just went for the gavel. The pounding action brought order to the room again without the guards jumping into action. He wondered if the youthful guards had witnessed a council session like this one. The master of ceremonies probably had.

  “If we can’t maintain order within these chambers, I will have no choice but to call for recess for the remainder of the day. In the city's interest and safety.” The astonished silence was much better. “The issue, if you please?”

  “My Lord Attius,” Silvia said, “we’ve not yet addressed the point of order. I respectfully ask the Council to deliberate an important matter of magic within the city confines.”

  She didn’t call him Duke. He hoped for another outbreak so he could suspend the Council until the crisis was over. Even his allies would not let him make the obvious move. He needed to settle the issue to create more time.

  “Very well. Your question for the Council?”

  “I’ll keep my comments short, Lord Attius. My question is for you and House Atros. I’m asking for the status of your prisoner suspected of being a wizard.”

  “My sorceratti, Vedette, recovered from the grievous nature of her attack.”

  “Clever, Attius, but not this time,” Gordio, Lord Paulus, spoke.

  His peers were shifting in their seats, and Attius sensed a political trap waiting for him. Time to shift gears. “Very well, as I reported the last time, we had witnesses to the magical attacks on one shop in the carpentry district. The destruction inside the building only damaged the floors. No fires, no tools, no natural causes.”

  “Yes, we understand all of this. Our reports indicate the same. But this is not the item for discussion,” Silvia said.

  “I do not have a report.”

  “But, my Lord, you have a prisoner in your dungeon. A witness or suspect.” She would not back down, and others cast their eyes away.

  “I’m not sure which one of those I hold yet. I have some eyewitnesses being interviewed and bodies under examination. I have significant evidence to show magical forces in use, but I don’t have a trained magician to convict. And execute.”

  “But you suspect the prisoner you are holding in your prison?” Lord Taurus said.

  Attius nodded. “We interrogated the individual for his role in the magical attack. He’s my only suspect.”

  “What have you learned?” Silvia asked.

  Her political daggers were out, and Attius knew the blades were razor sharp. He weaved his words of defense in the middle of the table. “If you let me finish this answer, you may have the one you need.”

  “Of course.”

  “The prisoner appears to have knowledge of magical abilities. He may even have an aptitude for magic. He was in the middle of the rubble, but he doesn’t know about the attack itself.”

  “Perhaps you need a different line of questioning. Or different methods,” Lady Occia of House Rosati entered the exchange for the first time. Attius would choose her last if he had to surrender the prisoner to another house for questioning. They would obtain answers at any price, but there would be no more prisoners.

  “Our methods are fine, my lady. The sorceratti for House Atros is present for our questioning, and I am confident—”

  “Your sorceratti is young for such a role—” Silvia said.

  “All of our sorceratti are young, Silvia. This is by the design of this very council.” Attius knew he shouldn’t lose his temper in front of her. “Our agreements and treaties don’t allow for older children to take the role of sorceratti.”

  “This is why your actions are so dangerous for us all, Attius.” She pushed back from the table and placed her hands in her lap. Attius couldn’t stand her smirk.

  “I understand your concerns about my intentions. The safety of our city is at stake. My districts are under attack, and my forces captured a prisoner. A dangerous prisoner with unknown capabilities. I ask for some patience as we tackle the first threat to our existing laws.”

  Silence filled the city chambers. Each Lord and Lady considered their position, and Attius tried not to hold his breath. He wanted this question to be answered later, but Silvia’s maneuvering forced his hand. He didn’t like being uncertain of an outcome before any meeting.

  “Perhaps another wizard to help your sorceratti, Lord Atros?” Zonara gave him the out he needed. A simple request that could not be voted down, and one he was prepared to answer.

  “I already do. Magi Cormac is with him.”

  Thirty-Four

  Kincaid - A sister's prison

  “Kincaid, are you there?”

  “Liane, shhh. The guards will hear you.” />
  “This cell is so small. I can’t sit down.”

  “I am so sorry. Maybe I can talk to the guards.” But they won’t listen to a prisoner destined for execution. They’d be loyal to the House.

  The click of metal echoing across the rock walls hushed further discussion. Kincaid assumed the guards settled into their quarters at the far end of the cell blocks. He wondered what the two guards thought about their three prisoners. One a chained magi, another a journeyman carpenter held in check by a threat to his family, and a frightened woman. Not an enviable job.

  “I’m scared, Kincaid.”

  “Me too. But I’ll get us out of this. You know I will.”

  “Can you? Can you really?”

  Kincaid smiled at his sister’s words. “I will.”

  “I hope you aren’t relying on your sword techniques. I heard you suck.”

  Kincaid let a laugh slip out, and the sound was strange in a place designed to crush all hope. The returning chuckle from the other section of cells buoyed Kincaid’s heart. Their mirth faded back to silence.

  Kincaid struggled to come up with comforting words or promises of great action. But he couldn’t find them. He shifted his gaze back to Cormac. The magi sat in the middle of his cell with his eyes closed. Asleep or listening? Didn’t matter. He wasn’t offering anything to the siblings. Straw poked through Kincaid’s rotting trousers as he rested his weight back on the floor.

  Her voice carried across the cells, “Kincaid, I can’t see. They took the bag off my head, and I can’t see.”

  “It’s dark in here—”

  “Doesn’t matter if my eyes are opened or closed. It’s always dark.” The bravado in her voice was gone. The confident sister who dragged him through his childhood was alone and scared.

  Kincaid couldn’t sit on the floor anymore. He got back to his feet and wrapped his fingers around the cold steel bars. Absorbing the shock of the cold, Kincaid pressed his cheeks against the unrelenting metal and peered into the gloom. He longed to fill the cell block with light and check on his sister. He doubted the gesture would make a difference, and he was confident he would terrify the guards. Do something; take action.