by Lisa Cassidy
“Well…to be honest no.”
They both laughed. It felt good to laugh. “At least I know where I stand.”
“There are, however, circumstances where I might be encouraged to risk the palace dungeons for you.”
“And what might those be?”
He pulled her a little closer. “I know you’re the Magor-lier, but…I more than just like you, and I think we could be good together. I would never hurt you.”
His face was uncharacteristically earnest as he waited for her response, his hand warm where it rested on her hip. He really was handsome. It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse him, but then Cayr’s words came back to her. They weren’t true. He was wrong. “Adahn, we—”
She broke off as a servant materialised discreetly at her side, bowing slightly before offering a folded note. The writing on it was unmistakably Brynn’s, though it was messy and the paper was crumpled. Was that blood splotched on one corner? Worry swamped her.
“What is it?” Adahn asked
“Brynn. He needs to meet with me. He’s on his way to my house.”
“Do you want me to come with you? At the very least, you should have a guard.”
She shook her head. “The city is so heavily protected tonight I don’t think I need a protection detail just to walk across the palace gardens home, and there’s no use both of us missing the party. Stay here and I’ll find you when I get back.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” His gaze was warm and concerned, affection filling his voice. Impulsively, she leaned up and pressed her mouth to his in a soft kiss. He started in surprise, and she smiled as she pulled away and left him staring after her.
Worry for Brynn replaced her uncertainty over kissing Adahn as she left the ballroom. Not sure what she would be facing, she ran for the mage offices to change out of her ballgown.
Once changed, she briefly debated contacting Tarrick to ask him to come with her, but didn’t want to interrupt anybody else’s fun, and if Brynn’s news was urgent, she could spoil their evening then.
“Alyx!”
Alyx turned as a voice hailed her from behind, a smile lighting up her face at the sight of her godfather. Astor spent a lot of time riding between Alistriem and the border on Cayr and Alyx’s behalf and she’d been disappointed he hadn’t been back in time for the wedding. He still wore his travelling clothes and his jaw showed a few days’ worth of silver stubble. “You made it!”
“Just barely.” He returned her hug. “As you can see, I’m not quite dressed for a party.”
“I’m sure nobody will notice,” she assured him. “Plenty of wine has been consumed.”
“Then I’d best get in there before it runs out. What’s your excuse?” He gestured to her lack of formal clothes.
“I’ve just had word from one of my mages arriving in the city. It sounded important. I’ll try and come back before the party is over.”
“All right, I’ll let you go. I need to go back to the border in a few days, but try and find some time for your godfather before you leave Alistriem, will you?”
“Absolutely. Now go and have some fun.” She smiled as he kissed her cheek before continuing into the ballroom.
Safia met her at the front door, offering to bring drinks when she explained that Brynn was coming. As with most people Brynn ever met, Safia adored the young man and always blanketed him with food and attention when he came.
“It’s late, Safia, go back to bed. Brynn and I can look after ourselves.”
“Yes, Lady Egalion.” He bowed.
The house was dark, the entrance foyer lit only by two wall sconces either side of the front doors. Alyx went to the kitchens to get a jug of cider and some mugs and was just re-entering the foyer when the door opened and a cloaked figure entered. Smiling, she placed the tray on a small table and walked over into the pool of light cast by the flickering sconces.
“Brynn, I hate to tell you, but you didn’t quite make it in time for the wedding,” she teased. “I don’t think Dawn plans to forgive you anytime soon.”
He didn’t reply immediately, and Alyx frowned as he reached out a hand to lean against the door while using the other to pull back the hood of his cloak.
“Brynn? What happened?” she demanded as soon as she caught sight of his face. His eyes were sunken and a dark bruise coloured the left side of his jaw. Now that she was closer she could see that there was a gash in the right arm of his tunic, caked in dried blood. Her heart leapt in her chest.
“Alyx,” he rasped. “I had to…they tried to stop me…” He shook his head, swayed alarmingly on his feet.
“Calm down.” She took his arm to steady him, worry flooding her. “You need to sit and rest.”
He shook his head. “Need to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” Fear made her voice sharp.
“It’s…” He coughed and almost fell. Alyx caught him and they both staggered. Panic started seeping through her. Brynn looked in bad shape, and clearly he was desperately trying to tell her something.
“Brynn, please, what’s wrong, what happened?”
“I…” he mumbled, then his eyes flickered closed. “So tired.”
There was a blinding flash and both front doors flew inwards. Both she and Brynn were thrown across the floor. Brynn landed hard, his head cracking on the marble. Alyx summoned enough magic to soften her fall and instantly rolled towards Brynn, who was out cold.
A shadow flickered over her and she turned to face it, magic flaring to life, but she was too slow. Something heavy came crashing down on her head and blackness claimed her.
Chapter 24
Alyx opened her eyes with a start.
Her heart thudded in her chest as if she’d been in the middle of a nightmare that was now forgotten. The cold, bumpy surface she lay on was most definitely not her bed in Alistriem. Adrenalin surging, she rolled quickly to her feet, hands flaring with a green shimmer. The glow punched through the otherwise dim light, revealing that she was in a cell.
Rocky walls surrounded her on three sides and a barred opening stood before her. The air was cold and dank, smelling of damp and something else she probably didn’t want to know the source of.
Closing her eyes, she tried to remember what exactly had happened. It was useless. She’d been at the wedding. She’d gone to meet Brynn, and then…whatever faint recollection she had was blurred and intangible, and there was a lingering grogginess in her mind that indicated she’d probably been drugged. Which meant she could be anywhere. Panic closed over her chest—how much time had passed?
Whoever had taken her had left her in the clothes she’d changed into after leaving the wedding, but her mage staff was gone. Her heart lurched when she realised her cloak was gone too. Had she worn it back to her house to meet Brynn? Her memory teased her, offering wisps of recall, but nothing substantial enough to grasp.
Fear was useless, so she pushed it away and allowed anger to take its place. Raising an arm, she loosed a concussion ball at the bars of her cell. Instead of destroying the metal, however, her magic hit a shimmery wall and winked out of existence. Frowning, she tried again, a stronger blast this time. The same thing happened.
Switching to her telekinetic magic, she reached out to try and yank the bars from their foundations. Try as she might, however, she couldn’t grab hold of them. Something was blocking her.
“Dammit!’ Alyx let loose with a burst of temper, and her third concussion ball gouged out a chunk in the wall, spraying chips of stone all over the cell. The subsequent concussive burst inside the small space was deafening and Alyx winced and covered her ears, riding out the squeezing sensation in her chest.
Once the reverberations had subsided, she tentatively reached out to touch the bars. Cold metal slid under her fingertips—there was nothing tangible she could feel that could be inhibiting magic. Frowning, she tried extending her telepathic ability beyond the bars to see if anyone was nearby. Nothing.
There must be some type of mage shie
ld surrounding the bars which was impervious to her magic. Deciding on a more practical approach, Alyx gripped the bars and gave them a good shake.
Nothing.
Unsurprised, she peered out into the corridor beyond. It looked just like the palace dungeon in Alistriem, a long corridor with cells just like hers on either side, a handful of flickering torches providing the only light. The floor was hard-packed earth, suggesting she was underground.
Who had taken her? Shakar? But why would he imprison her instead of just killing her outright? She closed her eyes and focused the way Howell had taught them when learning to erect their mental shields, running her mind back through the hazy flashes that remained of her memory.
There! Brynn had been knocked out. Someone had leaned over—she hadn’t caught sight of their face, they’d hit her before she could focus on…a flash of black fabric swirling around a pair of leather boots.
A mage. The Mage Council.
Alyx groaned and allowed her head to fall forward against the bars. The council had taken her.
A stab of worry hit her—Brynn. He’d been trying to tell her something, but her abductors had interrupted. Whatever it was, it must have been important, possibly the reason that she’d been taken.
A door banged down the hall, and she backed away from the bars, preparing herself for whoever was coming. Her fingers twitched, searching uselessly for the reassurance of her mage staff.
When the tall, broad shouldered figure stopped in front of her cell, the momentary cheeriness she’d felt at realising it wasn’t Shakar who’d taken her vanished in a heartbeat. Instead, she was plunged back into the Sandiran palace the night Dashan had died, her heart shattering into a thousand pieces, Galien’s triumph and delight tearing her apart.
This man had killed Dashan and then lorded it over her. Was she burning with the desperate desire for revenge, or utterly torn apart by the grief that had never gone away?. It was impossible to tell. Everything was so tangled up inside her chest.
“Well,” he drawled. “I never thought it would be so many years before I saw you again.”
She said nothing. It took everything she had to keep her shoulders straight and meet his dark Shiven gaze as the emotion churned within her.
He stepped closer to the bars. “I heard your attempt to escape earlier. You didn’t really think we’d put you in a cell you could just blow your way out of, did you?”
“I never took you for being particularly clever,” she managed. Her hands were white-knuckled fists at her side, nails cutting into her skin. The pain helped her focus. “Not that stupidity completely explains your odd loyalty to the council.”
His smile faded and a flash of something almost like emotion flickered in his eyes. “They took me in when my parents abandoned me. They cared for me, they fed and clothed me, and they taught me how to become the most powerful mage alive. I will never forget what they’ve done for me.”
Her shoulders relaxed a little. No matter what had happened, this was still Galien. The same cruel bully who’d known her at DarkSkull. Who’d tried and failed to best her a number of times. And as her fear began to fade, a cold anger grew in its place. This man had killed Dashan.
She flashed his mocking smile back at him. “Shakar is the most powerful mage alive.”
“I’m sure he likes to think so. There will come a time when he will learn different.”
Delusional as well as arrogant. “Well, your precious council decided it would be better to kidnap me instead of kill me. Why am I here, Galien? Where’s Brynn—did you take him too? Is he okay?”
He shrugged. “They think you’re useful, for now. As for Brynn, he was alive last I checked.”
Alyx pushed away her worry for Brynn, since showing it would only give Galien satisfaction, and instead smirked. “Oh I see. You’re not powerful enough for their liking. They want two mages of the higher order, just to be safe.”
It had been a guess, thrown out as much to taunt Galien as anything, but he flinched. It was miniscule, but the reaction was there. The council did want her as protection. Which meant there was only one place she could be. Her mind raced to try and piece it together, but Galien’s presence distracted her and she wanted to push her advantage.
“We’re in Carhall, aren’t we, and the city is close to falling?” she said. “And you aren’t enough to stop it. That’s why the council wants me.”
“I’m plenty enough,” he snarled, leaning closer. “And as soon as I drive back the Shiven army surrounding this city, they will see your uselessness and have you killed.”
Alyx stepped away from the bars and crossed her arms. “Off you go, then. You picked the wrong side, Galien. They might not have realised it yet, but I’m the future of the mage order. They’re quickly becoming irrelevant. I’m looking forward to the time when those snivelling old men you call a Mage Council try to kill me.”
“Oh, it won’t be them. It will be me,” he promised. “I’ll gut you like the worm you are.”
Satisfied with having the last word, Galien turned and strode away. Their conversation had restored some of her confidence—he was still too easy to bait, too arrogant. What he’d done to her in Sandira…she was different now. Older. Stronger. She was a leader. He remained a minion of the council.
She told herself all those things but the doubts crowded in, trying to break her confidence. He’d had the benefit of the past ten years of tutoring by the council. Her training had been ad hoc and not always successful.
Sighing, Alyx slid down the wall and drew her knees up to her chest, resting her head on them with the intent of sleeping. There wasn’t much more she could do than rest and be ready for whatever came next.
Her sleep was restless, filled with dreams of men in green falling off horses and Shiven warriors swarming over the walls of Carhall. It was impossible to tell whether they were figments of her imagination or flashes from when she’d been drugged. When she woke, it was to what sounded like shift change amongst the guards at the end of the hall. A tray of food had been delivered, containing a bowl of oatmeal and mug of water. She ate hungrily, deciding the oatmeal likely meant it was morning.
Not long after she’d finished eating, Galien re-appeared, this time with six militia soldiers flanking him.
“What do you want?” She remained at the back of the cell, eyes running over the drawn swords of all six soldiers.
“We’re going on a little trip,” he told her, jangling a pair of metal cuffs. “I’m going to come in there, and you’re going to allow me to put these on you.”
She snorted. “I’d like to see you try.”
“If you try to attack me in any way, we will kill your friend Brynn.”
“Brynn’s here?” Alyx stepped forward, a mixture of relief and concern flooding her. “Is he all right? Where is he?”
Galien’s sneer deepened. “He’s here, and we’ll keep him alive as long as you cooperate.”
Alyx stepped back, away from the door. “Come in, then, I won’t attack you.”
Galien gestured for the door to be unlocked, and once it was, he stepped inside. He approached Alyx warily, but she stood completely still while he secured the cuffs around her wrists. Brynn’s life wasn’t worth disobeying Galien, and if she allowed him to take her out of the cell, it would give her the opportunity to study her surroundings and identify potential escape methods.
As soon as the cuffs clicked shut, her access to her magic vanished. A bitter laugh escaped her. “I see you found a use for Shakar’s medallions.”
“You weren’t the only ones clever enough to capture them for your own,” he smirked. “Melted down they can be used to make pretty much anything.”
The soldiers closed around them as Galien took a firm grasp of Alyx’s arm and marched her upstairs. They climbed enough stairs to confirm her supposition the cells were underground, and at the top they emerged onto the ground floor of the building she remembered clearly as the Carhall Town Hall.
People moved a
round them, most seeming intent on their own business, and none of them looked twice at Alyx or Galien. He led her out the front doors and down into Centre Square. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the bright sunlight glinting off the marble paving.
The square was as impressive as she remembered, but she didn’t have much time to admire the view. Galien hurried her into a waiting carriage. He closed the doors behind them, and as the carriage lurched into movement, he pulled the blinds down over the windows.
“I’ve been here before,” Alyx told him. “I know where we are.”
He made no response, so she sighed and settled back into her seat. They jolted along for some time before squeaking to a halt. Galien opened the door before grabbing her arm and pulling her out behind him. She stumbled on the step, and it took a moment to right herself. Once she did, she found herself standing at the base of one of the city’s outer walls.
“This way,” Galien said shortly, gesturing to a flight of steps leading up to the top of the wall.
He kept a firm grip on her shoulder as they climbed, and the militia followed closely behind, swords hovering in readiness. It was strangely amusing that they obviously considered her so dangerous. It made her wonder what they’d been told about her.
When they reached the top, an old mage and more militia soldiers waited for them. It took her a moment to place the mage, but the air of arrogance and authority that hung around him like a cloak was unmistakable. Cario’s grandfather stood before her.
“Councillor Duneskal,” she greeted him. “What a surprise.”
“Alyx Egalion,” he returned coolly. “It’s been a while.”
“Since I met you at the council meeting here in Carhall and heard you talk about murdering Taliath?” She raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I suppose it has been.”
“Leave us, Galien,” Duneskal said, and the younger mage bowed before walking away. Reluctance showed in every stiffened line of his body. He didn’t like being dismissed. It made her smile.
“You always did have an unhealthy fascination for the Taliath,” Duneskal commented, turning to stroll over and lean against the wall parapet.