by A. C. Cobble
“She was dead for nearly a year,” agreed Towaal. “She didn’t stop moving until we tore her head off a few weeks ago.”
“I don’t understand,” admitted Hadra, a tremor of fear lacing her voice. A terrified pallor had leeched into her skin. She looked like she’d swallowed a frog. “Tell us… tell us what this is.”
“I think they’re ready to hear your story now, Ben.”
Once Towaal put the head back into the magically sealed bag she’d been carrying it in, the discussion resumed and went late into the night. The women had been skeptical, but every time Ben started to feel doubt creeping in, he would lower his eyes to the bag containing Eldred’s head. The mages’ gaze would follow, and they couldn’t help but recall the arcane runes carved into their former colleague’s face and the damage that had been done to her during the final battle. To anyone with their knowledge of anatomy, it was evident that the worst of the injuries happened postmortem. With the head as an unsettling reminder and Towaal filling in with technical knowledge, Ben was able to finish his tale.
Hadra spoke first. “Avril alive after so many years? I was an initiate when she was raised to the Veil, you know. She was a schemer then. It seems nothing has changed.”
The other mages murmured in response, all of them shaking their heads like they’d caught a puppy stealing the Newday roast.
Ben blinked. He’d expected them to be a bit more concerned about the army of demons that had just overthrown one of the largest cities in Alcott, or maybe that they were part of an organization led by a ruthless murderer who cared only about her own power and was about to get her hands on a legendary weapon that would make her unstoppable.
“The staff,” mentioned Towaal. “That is of great concern to me, and it is something you could help us with. If the Veil obtains it and figures out how to use it, then we may have no chance to defeat her.”
Hadra frowned, her lips forming into a thin line. “You are right, of course. After what she did to Eldred, I believe we can all agree Coatney is no longer fit to serve as the Veil. The process to depose her is rather complicated, though, and requires a majority of the Sanctuary’s mages to agree. At any given time, a third of them are not in the City, so we’d need—”
Towaal held up a hand to stall the woman. “I don’t think a vote is what the situation calls for.”
“I know what you’re implying, but we’re not assassins, Karina,” declared Hadra.
“You may not be, but she is. Do you think a vote to depose her would really work?” asked Ben. “The staff could be here in days. With that in her hands, how likely is it that the Veil would agree to step down even if all of the mages voted for it? She plotted to overthrow Avril hundreds of years ago and has been consolidating power since then. I don’t think she’s going to give it up that easily, certainly not because someone asks her nicely.”
Hadra fell silent, but one of the other women responded, “He’s right.”
“I’m not comfortable with violence,” murmured Hadra. “Not until we’ve had time to consider our options, to make sure that it truly is necessary. If we act without thinking, we’re just as bad as you are accusing Coatney of being.”
Ben glanced at Towaal in frustration, but instead of chiding the older mage, she stated, “We’ll give you time to think. While you do, consider who else you can trust. Who else would oppose the evil that is at the heart of the Sanctuary? We do not have a lot of time, but we cannot rush into a plan tonight either. Help us figure out a way to address the threats to this world. At the least, I hope we can agree on that.”
The six mages murmured assent, and with a look from Hadra, they stood to go.
“We will be in touch through the runaway,” said the woman. Then, she followed her companions out of the room.
Ben sat, dumfounded. “You didn’t even try to talk them into it!”
Towaal met his gaze, grim-faced. “It became apparent that they would not stoop to violence based on our words. They need to see the threat, to understand it viscerally. Apparently, Eldred’s head wasn’t enough. Ben, there was nothing we were going to say to convince them to battle against Milo and Coatney. We are on our own when it comes to the wyvern fire staff, as we were before, but in regards to the demons and the eventual unseating of the Veil, I believe they will come around. Now that the seed is planted, they will pay attention to what is happening. When Coatney bends or breaks the Sanctuary’s rules and standards, which she will, they will have the evidence they need. They’ll tell others, and when we leave to face the demons, will these women be able to sit on their hands knowing what we’ve shared?”
Ben eyed the mage uncertainly.
“Trust me, Ben. I have known these women for a very long while. There is a reason I left and joined you.”
“I’ll trust you on this,” he agreed, clenching his fists and then slowly relaxing them. “Since the mages are unlikely to come around in the next few days, what do you suggest we do now?”
“Come up with a plan to find Milo and get that staff back.”
9
Burning Tower
The next two days were filled with tension and boredom. They squatted in the tower Renfro had found that overlooked the Sanctuary and constantly watched over the place with the spyglass. There was nothing to see, though, other than the everyday business of a large organization. The interesting stuff, like classes and experiments, happened inside and out of their view. Living quarters were placed so none of the windows were visible from the south where the City’s towers were located, which Ben supposed was actually pretty sensible from an individual privacy standpoint. Still, it didn’t help them. Outside of the tower, the Rat’s urchins were allegedly hard at work looking for Milo, but there were no reports of him in the City.
Ben was sitting at the window, peering through the spyglass at small groups of guards and initiates strolling around the park at the northernmost tip of the island, the same place he and Amelie had jumped into the river. There was no sign of the ominous discs of light that had tracked them or the mages who had lobbed fireballs out over the water. It looked exceptionally peaceful, actually, like the people below didn’t have a care in the world.
“This is the most pleasant-looking evil lair I’ve ever seen,” grumbled Ben.
Amelie guffawed in very unladylike fashion. “Most of the people down there aren’t evil, Ben.”
“Tell that to the hordes of dead left in Eldred’s wake.”
“Towaal and I both lived there, remember?”
He grunted.
“You’re not going to see the Veil standing on the lawn performing some evil ritual to bring a mage back from the dead. What we might see, though, is Milo. You should be looking for him.”
Ben acknowledged that she was right, but he also couldn’t help trying to find one building he recalled from that frantic night he had broken Amelie out. In the midst of the insane dash to find her and escape, he still distinctly recalled the place and the ominous sense of dread that emanated from it. It had been a low, white stucco building like all of the others, but from its closed doors and shuttered windows, a menacing red glow had pulsed steadily out. At the time, he’d never seen anything like it, but now, he knew the glow was mage-wrought. It was similar to the runes they’d seen which Towaal had labeled fatal. The building wasn’t large, but the light inside was significant. That building was important. He was sure of it.
He’d discussed it with Amelie, but she wasn’t familiar with the building. She thought it might be a part of a series of small laboratories and pointed them out to Ben, but he couldn’t identify which one he’d seen. He’d been ready to give up and brush it aside until Amelie reminded him of who ran the laboratories at the Sanctuary. Eldred.
Whatever had been done to the former mage, Ben was certain that building had something to do with it. The sense of evil and dread hadn’t been his imagination. It was real. If they’d created Eldred there, what was to stop the Veil from creating more of them? What if the mask wa
s a sign she already had?
During the light of day, though, the Sanctuary couldn’t be further from ominous, and there was no sign of the evil he suspected was taking place. Even in the autumn, the warm humidity of the City allowed flowers to bloom, grasses to grow green and wild, and trees to be covered in a thick layer of leaves. Ben continued to study the grounds of the Sanctuary, muttering to himself, until Rhys stumbled in from the stairwell.
“That bloody climb is going to kill me,” groaned the rogue.
“You should just stay up here,” remarked Ben.
“I know what the Sanctuary looks like,” responded Rhys sarcastically.
“What are you doing here then?” asked Amelie. “That is an awfully long climb if you only came to complain.”
The rogue grunted. “Renfro says he’s got something suspicious, something we should look into.”
“What is it?” asked Ben. “Has he found Milo?
“No, not Milo. At least, not yet. It’s a tower on the eastern edge of the island. A nice place, he says. Mages keep coming and going, and he claims it’s not the kind of place you’d expect to see them.”
Ben lowered the spyglass and looked at his friend.
“It doesn’t sound like much, I know,” said Rhys, “but I spent years around here, and I agree something isn’t right with this. Mages have rooms within the Sanctuary and staff to get them whatever they need. They rarely wander around the City with no purpose. If what the Rat said is accurate, something strange is going on in that place.”
“So, why are they going there?” asked Amelie.
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” responded Rhys. “It probably has nothing to do with Milo, but I think it’s worth investigating anything unusual in this town that has to do with the Sanctuary. We may have started a ball rolling with Hadra and the others, but taking the Veil down is going to take more than a handful of disgruntled mages.”
“Fair enough,” agreed Ben. He looked at Amelie, and she nodded.
Prem, who was lounging on the other side of the room, offered, “I can watch the gates while you’re gone. No reason you have to stay here for that.”
“Thanks,” murmured Ben.
They met Renfro at a small ale shop a few blocks away. It was set in the base of a broad tower, and the door faced away from the street. Ben commented on it, and Renfro explained that they weren’t the only ones who wanted to avoid being in public. Ben began to wonder if Renfro’s empire was as stable as his old friend said it was.
One of Renfro’s big thugs was with him, and Ben spied the black ink of the rat tattoo peeking out from under his loose tunic. Stupid, thought Ben, making everyone get a rat tattoo. He’d wondered about it when he’d seen it on Martin, but seeing it on the thugs in the City made it that much more obvious. If anyone connected the tattoos to a burgeoning thieves’ guild, they’d be able to hunt the Rat’s minions down in no time. Renfro’s ego put him at risk. It was not so different from when Ben had first met the thief. Then, his overreaching had gotten them both thrown into a cellar in Fabrizo.
“What are you thinking about?” asked Renfro.
Ben blinked at him. “Oh, nothing. Just wondering what these mages are doing, I guess.”
“I have no idea what they’re doing,” said Renfro, “but I figured it was worth checking out. If you’re going to get yourself in trouble by putting your nose in the Sanctuary’s business, then you may as well put your nose in all of their business, right?”
Ben forced a grin. “Right.”
Renfro and his thug led them through the City, sticking to the alleyways and passing through buildings when they could. Ben and his friends had altered their appearances as much as possible without standing out, but they were relying on the hoods of their cloaks and avoiding public areas to stay out of sight.
Finally, they made it to the tower Renfro had identified. He showed them a tavern across the way which had wide windows that were thrown open to catch a breeze in the warm, early fall air. The tower was a tall one, maybe thirty stories. Far above them, narrow bridges spanned between it and its neighbors. They swayed gently in the breeze. Ben tore his eyes away as he watched someone venture out on one carrying what looked to be far too heavy a load to manage safely so far above the ground.
“I don’t know what the mages are doing here, but once I recognized the place, I knew I had to show you,” said Renfro.
“What tower is this?” asked Ben.
The Rat cleared his throat and glanced at the girls out of the corner of his eye. “It’s, ah, it’s a place where men can meet women. They, ah…”
“Are you sure?” asked Amelie sharply.
“I’m sure.”
Ben nodded, studying a group of women who exited the building with interest now. He wondered, “Mages?”
Towaal shook her head.
“How can you tell?” asked Ben.
“They’re made up like trollops,” mentioned Towaal dryly. “Look, that woman there has makeup caked on like someone did it with a paint brush. Mages don’t age. They don’t need that kind of cosmetics.”
“Hadra looked pretty old,” grumbled Ben.
“Hadra is old,” replied Towaal. “She’s probably five hundred years old. At that point, there’s no reason for vanity.”
“They don’t look like trollops to me,” argued Amelie.
“The Rat is right,” agreed Rhys. “If I’ve seen one, I’ve seen a thousand. Those are ladies of the night.”
“You’re saying you haven’t seen a thousand?” chided Amelie.
Rhys winked at her.
“I need to check into some things,” muttered Renfro, staring up at the structure and the one across from it. “Lord Gulli bought this entire tower, which didn’t come cheap, let me tell you. It’s the biggest flop house on this island. I heard a rumor he’s disappeared. He’s been missing for days. If that’s his place, we need to find out where he is.”
“Good thinking,” said Rhys, reluctantly agreeing with the little thief.
The Rat gestured for his man to lead the way, and they scurried back into the streets, moving quickly away from the tower.
“There’d better be more than prostitutes inside this place,” snapped Towaal, watching another cluster of girls walk up the broad stone steps to the tower’s lobby.
“Let’s give it some time,” suggested Rhys. “I don’t think the Rat has the stones or the intelligence to pull a prank like that. If he said there were mages coming and going from here, it’s because he thinks there are.”
“Let’s watch and see,” suggested Ben. He nodded to the tavern Renfro had suggested. From its open windows, they’d have a clear view of the tower. That time of day, it was almost entirely empty. It was a perfect spot to wait inconspicuously.
Amelie sighed but followed him inside. Ben waved down a serving woman while his friends found a table by the windows. It’d look awfully strange to be camped out in a tavern and waiting for several bells without having a drink. They needed to blend in.
Several drinks later, Towaal tapped her fingers on the table and glanced out the open window. Two women, wearing plain but well-made dresses and no cosmetics, were ascending the stairs to the tower.
“Look at that,” she said.
“Lady Greenfoot!” gasped Amelie. “I haven’t seen her in over a year.”
Ben frowned. The name sounded familiar.
“She wouldn’t have stayed in Issen after it fell. The Coalition has no love for mages,” said Towaal, her gaze following the women inside. “It makes sense she is in the City, but I can’t tell you why she’d be going into a pleasure house.”
“I knew her for years,” said Amelie, her voice sounding distant and soft. “She was my tutor since I can recall having one.”
“She’s like any other mage of the Sanctuary now,” interjected Rhys. “The Coalition knew you were here somehow. I’m not saying she’s the one who told them, but someone did. Could have been the Veil or any number of other mages.”
>
“It could have been one of my father’s lackeys in Issen too,” challenged Amelie.
Rhys shrugged. “We cannot trust anyone we don’t know for sure is opposed to the Veil. Do you have any reason to think Greenfoot has loyalty to you and not Coatney?”
Amelie tipped up a half-full glass of wine and didn’t answer.
“Renfro was right,” said Ben, changing the subject. “There are mages going into that tower.”
“Why would mages be frequenting a pleasure house?” wondered Rhys innocently, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.
“Not for the same reason you would,” responded Towaal crisply. “We can be sure of that, but as you say, Ben, the Rat was right. This is highly suspicious, and I think it’s worth investigating further.”
Ben and Rhys left to circle the tower, looking for a better vantage point or any other clues as to what may be going on inside that would attract the interest of mages. The base of the tower was as wide as the village green in Farview, and on the ground level, there were no windows, just four tall double doors that opened north, south, east, and west. Wide stairs led up to the doors, and they could see inside that the ground level was a large, open lobby. They weren’t yet desperate enough to risk walking in, so they continued around until they found themselves back at the tavern.
“Nothing appears unusual from outside,” reported Ben.
Amelie and Towaal looked distracted.
“What’s going on?” asked Ben.
“There’s something,” murmured Amelie, “happening high up in that tower.”
Ben raised an eyebrow.
“We can sense energy being manipulated,” explained Amelie.
Ben looked to Rhys, and the rogue merely shrugged.
“For us to sense it from here, it must be an enormous effort,” added Towaal.
“I don’t see anything happening,” said Ben, moving to the window and peering up to the top of the tower.
“Yes, and that’s what is so interesting. This is far more power than Greenfoot and another mage could command on their own. There are very powerful mages up there, or several lesser ones, or maybe someone is drawing on a repository. That kind of activity would only be done for a purpose, and it’s one we cannot discern.”