Light in the Darkness

by CJ Brightley

  Down a series of rough stone stairs they went, with guards at the head and foot. At the bottom was a large door completely encased in iron. Markus produced a document, which the guard carefully examined before the door was opened.

  “I did not know there would be a prison in a war magic college,” Dominic murmured to the shadow beside him. Ardhuin’s hand tightened on his arm. The door closed behind them with a deep clang he could feel through the flagstone floor.

  No one had accompanied them through the door, which surprised him until he saw that there were guards within the prison as well. He saw Ardhuin glance at them and then leave the avoidance magic in place.

  The failed assassin was a sad figure of a man, bony and haggard with wisps of hair in patches on his scalp. His prison clothes were thin. There was a chair placed for him, but the prisoner made no attempt to use it. He huddled against the wall, his chains clanking as he shook, and slowly slid to the floor. Pale, watery eyes watched them with abject terror.

  “This is the man you found in the park? The anarchist?” Ardhuin asked in amazement. “How could he stand up long enough to shoot anybody?”

  Markus grimaced. “This is the one. Hans Krieder.” At the mention of his name, the prisoner cowered even further, raising horribly scarred hands to hide his face. His right hand was missing portions of the fingers. The scars were old ones, and Dominic recalled Markus Asgaya saying the man had been in a philogiston explosion.

  “Look me,” Ardhuin said in slow Preusan. The man whimpered and slowly lowered his hands, looking about fearfully. She lifted the veil of her hat. “I help.” This seemed to calm him a little.

  Ardhuin stared at him, biting her lip, then slowly moved forward. The prisoner whimpered again, shrinking away as far as the chains would permit.

  “Are you sure you need to be so close to him?” Markus asked, and Dominic could see his long brown fingers curling with suppressed intent to pull her back, away from potential danger.

  “He's chained with iron,” Ardhuin said in a choked voice. “I must examine him carefully if we are to remove the geas.”

  Ardhuin knelt beside the terrified prisoner. Dominic saw power build around her hands, and she carefully touched Krieder's head. The effect was sudden, and remarkable. Hans Krieder stopped trembling and stared unblinking into midair with a slack expression on his face. Ardhuin changed the position of her hands and the magic changed too, continuously, more quickly than Dominic could follow.

  Krieder started to breathe more quickly, and sweat beaded on his brow. Again Ardhuin shifted, and the prisoner showed increasing agitation, making mewling noises in the back of his throat, but he seemed strangely unable to move.

  Dominic drew a sharp breath. He could see something now. Magic, like lavender mist, faint but visible on the assassin’s head, where the man’s scalp showed through his thin hair. Ardhuin must have brought it up from where it was hidden. Dominic shuddered. To have magic embedded in you like that….

  Ardhuin bent her head and spoke into the man's ear, words soft but intense, and Dominic saw she was focusing power.

  Krieder's eyes bulged, and he screamed. Screamed as if his heart were being ripped out of his chest, his body arced and rigid.

  “No!” Ardhuin desperately grabbed his head in both hands, power streaming from her fingers. Krieder spasmed and collapsed in a limp heap, and she let go.

  Ardhuin scrambled back, then hesitantly reached out to shake Krieder's shoulder. He did not respond; his head lolled from one side to the other without any change of expression.

  The iron door scraped open, and the other defensive magicians of Ardhuin’s guard came in. They cast a quick look around the cell, then stepped back, alert and wary. Markus had interposed himself between Ardhuin and the assassin and was examining him.

  “Is he dead?” asked Dominic.

  “There is a pulse,” Markus said, and shrugged. “Not much else.”

  Ardhuin looked pale, swaying on her feet, and Dominic hastened to support her. “His body lives, but his mind—” she gagged and swallowed, hard. “He has no mind anymore. There was a trap attached to the geas. Mage work,” she said, glancing at Markus. “The same kind the Gaulans used during the War.”

  Footsteps pounded in the hall, and this time soldiers of the Kollegium came through the door. Ardhuin hastily let down her hat’s veiling as they entered.

  “What happened?” one snapped in rapid Preusan.

  Markus Asgaya turned to face them. “A remnant spell to prevent interrogation,” he said. He spoke calmly, but Dominic could see the tension in his body. “It has been dealt with, I believe.”

  Ardhuin gave a minute nod, and Dominic looked carefully and could see no trace of magic on the prisoner.

  “The geas is gone,” he said, and grimaced. Ardhuin was right. There was nothing left of the man but his still-breathing body. “You should send for a doctor.”

  Markus sighed, shaking his head. “There is nothing else to be done, I suppose. A pity. Well, at least we learned something.”

  Something in his voice made Dominic look up, disturbed. The Preusans weren’t going to blame Ardhuin for that, were they?

  There were more people in the hallway of the prison section when they left the cell, some in the semi-civilian dress of military magicians. More were waiting for them outside the iron door. Dominic glanced at Markus. His face was a mask.

  The military magicians were distantly polite. Procedure must be followed. A report of what had happened was needed, since the prisoner was their responsibility and they must be able to answer any questions as to his condition. They were shown to a room bare of any furnishings except for a wooden bench and a framed engraving of the Siege of Andaluz.

  Dominic started to speak, only to be stopped by a warning glance from Markus. Ardhuin gestured, and a thin fog of magic filled the room.

  “Our voices are muffled now,” she said. “Do you think they are trying to listen?”

  “I didn’t see any magic until you cast the spell,” Dominic commented. “Is there a problem?”

  Markus let out a pent-up breath. “Please understand I trust the Lady Magus and her abilities implicitly. But do you see how this will appear to the Council?”

  Ardhuin sank down on the hard wooden bench. “A failed attempt to lift the geas.” Her voice was dull with despair. “And I did fail. That poor man….”

  “But the geas is gone—I saw it disappear!” Dominic protested.

  “However, the prisoner is now even less communicative than when it was present,” Markus pointed out. “You must be aware that there are those on the Council who would prefer to decline the assistance of the Lady Magus, and this incident will give them an excuse to do just that.”

  “What can we do?”

  Markus grinned. “I don’t suppose you could discover the plot, the plotters, and a tidy solution to everything before dawn tomorrow? That would be very helpful. I don’t wish to appear unreasonable, though. Any new information would be…not precisely a distraction, but a different bone for the Council to chew. They are more tenacious than intelligent.”

  Just when he was most infuriating, Markus would reveal a side Dominic could not help but sympathize with.

  “They wouldn’t let us find out anything before,” Ardhuin said bitterly. “Why would they change now? As soon as we return they will refuse to let me leave again.”

  “Then we should not return until we have discovered something,” Dominic replied. He had no idea how they were to do this, but anything was better than seeing the look of despair in her eyes.

  “You are aware that the general feeling at the Kriegszauberkollegium is also…not precisely friendly to you,” Markus said. “In fact, I believe they will try to make mischief for you, and use this incident to do it. They will not help in any way.”

  Ardhuin sighed. “Then we need to leave without being detected.”

  Markus gave her a sidelong glance. When he spoke, his voice did not have the usual undercurrent of am
usement, and Dominic felt his curiosity spike. Markus seemed wary of her. “From what I have just observed, you have no need of my assistance in that matter.”

  “Not for that, no. But I am quite certain the Kriegszauberkollegium has other protections, possibly even regular Argus castings. I am not asking you to tell me,” Ardhuin said hurriedly, holding up a hand to stop his protest. “But I would rather simply avoid such things, instead of using my own methods to…eliminate them.”

  Dominic hid a smile at Markus’ expression, which was a combination of horror and fascination. “Tempting as it is to find out what you would do, my tiresome conscience will not permit me,” he said finally. “But do you have some destination in mind? Or is this just a stroll for exercise?”

  “The party tonight,” Ardhuin said, glowering at him.

  “A party?” Markus asked, incredulous.

  “Students that I met at Professor Siebert’s laboratory,” Dominic explained, grinning. “She wants to talk to them herself.”

  “The military has already sealed off the laboratory, and I am quite sure they have been questioning everybody with great enthusiasm. No doubt their magicians have scoured the place.”

  Military magicians. Dominic blinked, trying to remember why that phrase had sudden meaning. Then he had it, and a wave of cold washed over him.

  “Dominic? What’s wrong?” Ardhuin was staring at him.

  “Perhaps it is nothing, but…I remembered something Siebert’s student told me. A military magician visited the laboratory just before the accident.”

  Markus Asgaya raised an eyebrow. “And you think they might be connected?”

  Dominic shrugged. “I don’t know. But if they are, I would not rely on that investigation.”

  “We already know someone in the government is involved,” Ardhuin pointed out. “I’m beginning to think that’s why the Council wouldn’t let me do anything. And now that they have an excuse to get rid of me, how long do you think it will be before they do? We need you not only for dealing with the magic here, but because you know more about the political situation.”

  Markus folded his arms, leaning against the wall. “So you want to leave without telling anyone and you want me to assist? Do you have any idea how much trouble I would be in?”

  “Only if you get caught,” Dominic muttered. Markus gave him a fulminating look.

  “You could be in trouble anyway,” Ardhuin said. “Remember that illusioned letter? They could try again to make you look like a conspirator.”

  The defensive magician sighed and shook his head, running his fingers through his short dark hair. “Yes, very true. Forgive me. When I think of court intrigue, I usually do not imagine having such a close view of the proceedings.” He glanced at Dominic. The glint of amusement returned. “Now you only need to come up with an explanation of why you are bringing two uninvited guests.”

  Dominic snorted. “This is a student party. All we need to do is bring food. No questions asked.”

  “You are determined?” Markus glanced at Ardhuin, then Dominic. “Then I will attempt to find a way out that will not tempt the Lady Magus to destroy Imperial property or endanger anyone.” He opened the door to their room, and with a quick glance about to make sure he was not observed, he left.

  “I could have illusioned him,” Ardhuin muttered.

  “There is no need. By himself he will occasion no comment, and he can move more quickly. Besides, I think you should rest a little.”

  He noticed her hands twisting and knotting together, and since they were alone, he permitted himself to take them in his own.

  She started, but before he could move away she had recovered enough to grip his hand tightly.

  “You tried your best,” Dominic said, trying to comfort her. She was shaking, but he could not read her face because of the shadow hat. “It must have been a very powerful geas.”

  Her grip on his hand tightened. “Dominic, whoever did that wouldn’t even let him scream! And then left that…that final spell. They must have known magicians would try to remove it.”

  “The incident with the prisoner was very distressing to you. Are you quite certain you wish to go to the party?”

  “I’m fine.” Her tone was curt, and did not invite further inquiry.

  “Are you? I am not convinced,” Dominic said, folding his arms.

  She threw up her hands. “Well, what would convince you? Perhaps you neglected to notice, but someone is killing Mage Guardians and using forbidden war magic all over the place, and—” she gulped. “It has to be stopped. It doesn’t matter how I feel about it.”

  “Yes, it matters. To me, at least.” Perhaps that was of little importance to her, he thought bitterly.

  Ardhuin glanced at him, the dark veiling of the hat obscuring all but the outline of her face. Before she could stop him—or he could stop himself—Dominic took the bottom edge of the veil and snapped it over her head.

  A sharp, startled intake of breath and one upraised hand were her only reactions. They stared at each other, Dominic cursing his sudden impulse. The expression in Ardhuin’s sea-colored, reddened eyes held a noticeable trace of fear.

  Dominic dropped his gaze, rubbing a hand across his forehead. They were both on edge, it seemed.

  “Please forgive me. I am afraid my dislike of that thing is approaching the level of mania.”

  “But I need it,” Ardhuin said softly. “It’s dangerous for me to be noticed. Especially now.”

  Dominic sighed, then smiled at her worried face. “I know. I just wish it wasn’t necessary.” One tendril of red hair hung free, and he reached up to tuck it behind her ear. Ardhuin froze for an instant, then turned her head so his hand cupped her face. He could feel her breath on his skin, short and quick.

  Then he heard the door open, and Ardhuin spun away.

  “Well, that wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be,” Markus said cheerfully. “Perhaps more exertion than I would prefer, but—” he gave Dominic a puzzled look. “Now, why are you glaring at me?”

  It was good to have something to do, something that demanded her attention. What else could go wrong? Ardhuin strengthened the intensity of the avoidance spell around herself and Dominic, hoping the additional power would not be noticed. Markus was taking care of his own shielding magic. That was only proper. He knew the best course of action for his own safety.

  They waited, hidden, for what seemed like hours. When the halls were empty, Markus led them on a strange path. First down one main hallway, past a throng of uniformed magicians. Then down a servant’s stair, rough underfoot and plain in color, out a side door and then up a narrow marble staircase to a large balcony beyond glass-paned doors. She could see a carriage court and gates beyond, where several sentries stood guard.

  “I’ll just make sure it’s clear,” Markus said softly, opening the glass doors with care and slipping outside.

  Ardhuin shivered. The wind was sharp and cold, and she wanted to be anywhere but here. To distract herself, she examined an old painting hanging on the wall. It was a battle piece, but unusual for the fact that no weapons were depicted. It was all magicians and magic. The painter had added a ribbon over the scene, on which were gold sigils. She recognized the sigil of Oron, as well as a few others that had appeared in his correspondence. At the bottom of the painting, where crushed and defeated mages of the Grand Armeé cringed, was what looked like a tattered paper. It had sigils too, but only one looked familiar to her.

  “Dominic. Isn’t that the sigil that was on the illusioned letter?” she asked, pointing.

  He came over to her and stared at the painting. “Yes, that’s it! What is this?”

  “It’s a scene from the Mage War. Look, the allies are here. That must be the Gaulan mage who sent that letter. But how? They were so sure they had caught or killed them all.”

  Just then, a tapping at the window alerted them to the return of Markus.

  “You must go over the balustrade,” Markus whispered. “Do you ne
ed assistance?”

  She looked over the edge. There was a section of flat roof, perhaps two feet wide, that paralleled the upper section of the building. If she kept her back to the wall it wouldn’t be too bad. Getting over the balustrade with her skirts was another matter. Markus had warned her not to use levitation anywhere in the Kriegszauberkollegium. There were several different detection spells set for that.

  Well, at least it was dark. Nobody could see her clumsiness, or her face red from effort. And she couldn’t complain, since she had insisted on going.

  The path on the roof connected to one of the stables by a stone archway. Ardhuin saw the glint of ice in the shadows, and added that to her list of fears. What would she do if she fell?

  The ice seemed to be concentrated in the ridges between the stones. Carefully, she inched her way across the arch. Her knees were weak when they finally made it across to the relative safety of the stable roof. But they were not finished yet.

  “How are we going to get down?” Ardhuin whispered to the shadows, hoping one of them was Markus. There was a sharp drop to the stone pavement from where they were, and she couldn’t see any way to descend safely.

  No reply. She started to worry, then Dominic said softly, “He’s bringing a ladder. There, it’s in place. Right by that broken slate.”

  She felt her way to the magically shadowed ladder and fumbled with her feet for the rungs. Her skirts got caught, necessitating a furious, silent struggle that ripped something, but she was free. She’d have to fix it herself later, though. It would cause comment if the servants found out.

  Now they had to cross back almost the entire length of the Kriegszauberkollegium to find the gate Markus wanted to use. At least they were on the ground now. The gate was guarded, but Markus removed his avoidance spell and the guard let him through, pausing while the defensive magician asked some question Ardhuin didn’t understand. It was enough of a distraction to let her and Dominic go through undetected.

  Once through, Markus led them through the shadows until she could no longer see the Kriegszauberkollegium walls. They crossed the street to an alley. “Now would be a good time for the illusions, milady,” he said quietly, glancing out at the street. It was deserted.