“If anyone asks, you’re my children,” he said, shortly. “And we’re taking the long way home to Appal.”
“Understood,” Johan said.
He smiled inwardly as Dread cantered off. The story wasn’t particularly convincing; Dread might have looked in his early forties, but Elaine didn’t really look young enough to be his daughter, although Johan had to admit it was theoretically possible. On the other hand, people aged quickly in the mountains. Elaine might be taken for someone five years younger if the watchers expected her to look older than she was. But she certainly didn’t have the rough hands of someone used to working the fields.
Let’s hope we don’t get caught, he thought. Maybe we should stick with the other story.
It grew colder, rapidly, as they galloped towards the mountains. Johan couldn’t help feeling intimidated as they grew larger, their peaks fading in and out of visibility as nasty-looking clouds formed high overhead. Snowflakes started to fall, rapidly turning to water as they settled on the horse’s coat; Johan wished, suddenly, that he could use charms to warm himself, without running the risk of accidentally cooking the poor animal. The road, thankfully, was made for bad weather. It grew harder to ride the horses when they turned off the stone road and headed up a muddy half-frozen track. The mist, slowly rolling down from the mountains, was making it very hard to see.
Dread slowed his horse, then glanced back at Johan. “Have you ever ridden in these conditions before?”
Johan shook his head. He’d never been allowed to go outside the family’s lands, back when they’d lived outside the Golden City. But there had been plenty of room to canter about, enjoying the solitude and – relative – safety from his siblings. He’d loved the horses back there … he fought down a sudden stab of homesickness, then looked down at the muddy track. It was almost invisible in the gloom.
“We may have to get off and walk,” Dread said, shortly. “I …”
He broke off as a set of buildings loomed out of the mist. One of them was a general store; the others, made from stone, seemed designed for cold weather. Dread pulled the horses to a stop, then jumped down and helped Elaine to climb off the horse. Johan followed, holding the horse’s reins in his hands. Frost had started to form on the poor animal’s hair.
“Stay here,” Dread ordered. “I’ll speak to the owner.”
He walked inside, shaking the snow and water from his clothes. Johan looked at Elaine, who looked frozen, even though she would have cast warming charms to keep herself from getting too cold. She looked terrified, her face pale and wan; Johan took her in his arms and hugged her tightly, realising slowly that she was half-asleep. She’d used a charm to make herself sleep, despite the risks. It had probably been the only way she could cope with the ride.
“You’ll be fine,” he whispered, feeling a dull flicker of emotion in response. The cold must have dulled his mind too or he would have sensed that something was wrong. “It’s probably going to get colder.”
Dread returned. “I’ve spoken to the owner,” he said. “He’ll give us climbing gear and clothes in exchange for the horses.”
Johan nodded – he was too tired to speak – and helped Elaine into the general store. The owner eyed them both in some concern, but said nothing. Johan guessed he didn’t really believe the cover story, yet felt no obligation to pry. The mountainfolk, from what Dread had said, had as little to do with the Empire as possible. He sat down next to Elaine, then accepted a mug of hot chocolate gratefully. Elaine needed to be helped to drink the warm liquid.
“Get changed into these clothes,” the owner advised, passing Johan a large set of furs. “My wife will be down in a moment if the lady wants assistance.”
Johan was too wet to care about undressing in front of a stranger – or his wife. His clothes were soaked through; it was a relief to get out of them, dry himself with a warm towel and then get into the furs. Someone had charmed them to help repel water, he realised, as he grew warmer rapidly. Elaine was helped into the next room and emerged, ten minutes later, wrapped up in so many furs she was barely recognisable. But at least she looked reassuringly normal.
“I’m sorry,” she said, quietly. “I should have known better than to use charms …”
The owner’s wife – a hefty woman with a motherly face – brayed like a mule. “If you get trapped up there, get undressed and snuggle,” she said, loudly. “It will keep the cold away.”
Johan blushed, brightly. Elaine looked as if she would sooner be somewhere – anywhere – else. The owner laughed, said something to his wife in a language Johan didn’t recognise, then proffered a large bag of tools. Dread took it, glanced inside, tested a handful and then nodded curtly. The owner opened the door and looked outside.
“The storm is subsiding,” he said. “If you are determined to go, then you should leave in twenty minutes. But I would really advise you to take the road.”
Dread shook his head. “We have to go this way,” he said. “There isn’t time.”
Johan frowned as the owner and his wife exchanged glances. They had to think the three of them were committing suicide, if the mountains were as bad as everyone said. And yet, they weren’t trying to stop them, merely urging them to take the safer route. Johan half-considered trying to talk Dread into waiting until the snow cleared, then dismissed the thought. It might not be long before the enemy started sending patrols around the mountain, even though very few people would dare the climb to Ida. And besides, here the snow would lie for months.
“The guide will meet you at the black rock,” the owner said. “And don’t lose the charmed needle. It will always point to Ida.”
Dread nodded and looked out of the door. The snow had stopped falling, leaving the tiny village buried under a layer of white. A handful of other villagers could be seen in the distance, clearing the snow away from their homes. Johan puzzled over it for a long moment, then decided that the weight of the snow might eventually crush the buildings, if given enough time to build up. Dread waved goodbye to the owner and led the way out into the cold. Johan looked at Elaine, then followed him. Elaine brought up the rear.
“Don’t use any charms past this point,” Dread warned, as they reached the edge of the village and peered up towards Ida. The mountains loomed above them, threateningly. “You can’t afford to blur your thoughts.”
“I understand,” Elaine said, quietly.
Johan reached for her gloved hand and held it gently as they walked towards the black rock, standing right at the base of the mountain. The guide was waiting for them, his face oddly perplexed. He exchanged a few words with Dread, then turned to start walking up towards Ida. Johan kept hold of Elaine’s hand as they slowly walked away from the village, then looked back. The village had already vanished in the mist.
He sensed Elaine’s trepidation as the path slowly became more treacherous. The world seemed to blur to white; it was hard, very hard, to spot anything resembling a landmark. Snow lay everywhere, covering the path; the guide slowed, poking at the ground with a stick before daring to keep moving forward. Johan looked up into the clouds, then down; a slope led down the mountainside and vanished into the mist. He honestly couldn’t understand how anyone lived near the mountains. They were beautiful, but how could anyone eke out an existence when they were trapped by snow four months out of twelve?
The air grew thinner, making it harder to breathe. It was a relief when the guide called a halt, insisting they take a few moments to catch their breath and eat a handful of dried fruit and nuts. Elaine looked dreadfully tired and Johan didn’t feel much better. He’d been wrong; they hadn’t even started the most dangerous part of the climb and he already wished they’d tried to sneak past the Inquisitors instead. It was hard, so hard, to force himself to start again when the guide ordered them to resume the climb. Part of him – and part of Elaine – just wanted to sit down and wait for the cold to take him.
I will not let this beat me, he thought, trying to push the thought at Elaine.
His mind seemed to be slowing down. The cold was slowly leaching through the furs, despite the charms. I will not let this stop me from reaching Ida.
The air turned savage, suddenly; a cold blast of wind threw sleet and ice into their faces, forcing them to duck. Johan covered his eyes and waited until the blizzard had come to a halt, then staggered onwards, still clutching Elaine’s hand. Behind them, the mist was rising, as if it was crawling up the mountainside. Johan felt a shiver running down his spine, then a wave of sickness that almost knocked him to his knees. Elaine gave him a sharp look, visible even through the furs; Johan gathered himself, unsure what had happened. It felt as if someone had just walked over his grave …
There was a flicker of light. Johan blinked in surprise – someone had cast a spell – and then swallowed in horror as a low rumble echoed through the air. An avalanche of snow was breaking loose and falling down the mountainside towards them, building up speed as it moved faster and faster. The guide shouted a curse and then lunged forward, running towards a rock that might provide shelter. Johan yanked Elaine forward as they ran, Dread catching her other hand and pulling her under cover. And then a second spell slammed into the ground under their feet, separating them.
“Get down,” Dread shouted. “Someone’s hunting us!”
Johan turned, too late. The impact had thrown him behind the rock, but Elaine was still in the open, without any form of protection. He felt a shock through the bond, a confused series of impressions that threatened to drag him into the maelstrom. And then snow fell all around them, the rock shuddering slightly as it threatened to roll down the mountainside, crushing them below its weight. Johan panicked; the rock shattered, the blast smashing through the snow and clearing the air.
But, when he pulled himself to his feet, there was no sign of Elaine. The guide’s body lay on the ground, shattered and broken, but where was Elaine?
“Johan!”
Johan froze, utterly unable to move. It wasn’t magic, it was fear. The voice … was a voice he’d never expected to hear again. It couldn’t be Jamal, part of his mind insisted; Jamal had fled after losing his powers. But the voice was so familiar he couldn’t deny it. His elder brother had tracked him down and …
No, he thought. Jamal was powerless. He couldn’t torment Johan any longer. This isn’t fair …
Chapter Sixteen
The flash of magic came too quickly for Elaine to shout a warning, even as it triggered an avalanche. She was fairly sure her thoughts weren’t actually slowing down, but it certainly felt as though she was unable to think quickly as Johan and Dread pulled her forward. The cold was wearing away at her, leaving her almost defenceless … she didn’t even have a chance to raise a ward before the second spell slammed into the ground, hurling her back under the tidal wave of snow.
It hit, throwing her down the mountainside. She tried, desperately, to summon the magic to save herself, but nothing seemed to work. Her thoughts felt sluggish, as if something was influencing them, as if something was slowly draining her very life. A wave of magic caught her, yanking her out of the snow and throwing her down. She hit a patch of soft snow and lay there, stunned. Someone had targeted her specifically, someone …
She opened her eyes, unsure of just when she’d actually closed them. The avalanche had stopped, thankfully, but there was no sign of Dread, Johan or the guide. She stared up the mountainside for a long moment, wondering just how far she’d fallen, and then twisted her head as she heard someone running towards her. A woman wearing furs dropped to her knees next to Elaine, then threw back her hood to reveal long brown hair, brown eyes and a smile that was oddly familiar. And yet, Elaine couldn’t place her …
“Help,” she croaked. She had no idea if the woman was friend or enemy, she knew she was dead if she didn’t get help. “Please …”
“Shut up,” the woman ordered. She tore off her gloves, then pulled Elaine’s hood free, allowing the cold to sting her bare cheeks. “Just relax and this won’t hurt.”
Elaine felt icy fingers touching her forehead. “What …?”
“I said, shut up,” the woman ordered. Her fingers seemed to bore straight into Elaine’s skull, burning through her mind. “Everything you have will become mine …”
Pain flared through Elaine’s mind as her thoughts were ransacked, ruthlessly. It was a violation … an impossible violation. And yet, Kane had done the same … and Kane had been her father. The woman … it dawned on her, suddenly, that the woman had to be her mother, the woman who’d given birth to her at Kane’s command and then left her at the orphanage for years. No one who wasn’t a direct blood relation could have cast the spell to drag the collected knowledge of the Great Library out of her mind …
The sense of betrayal was overwhelming. Kane had said her mother had been a whore – Elaine had always assumed her magic had come from Kane, who’d been a magician himself – but it was clear now that her mother had been a magician too. No, was a magician; a magician working for the Witch-King. She tried to struggle, but the weight holding her down was too strong. A direct blood relation could have influenced her thoughts from a distance, even if she’d rendered herself untraceable. No wonder she’d been so tired!
A whore, she thought, numbly. It would have been so much better if she’d just been a whore.
She moaned in pain as the fingers retreated, then she felt another spell inching its way into her mind. It was hard, so hard, to muster any defence, but she tried. The spell seemed to hesitate, almost as if it were a living thing, and then it thrust forward again. This time, her mind snapped under the impact …
… And darkness swallowed her into its maw.
***
Jamal hadn’t changed much, as far as Johan could tell, save for a single nasty scar on his face and a wild madness in his eyes. He stood, perfectly balanced on the snow, wearing a set of magician’s robes that seemed hideously out of place. A wand sat at his belt, while he held a short sword in one hand and a charmed shield in the other. Johan had to fight the urge to cringe back as Jamal studied him, remembering how he’d been jinxed, hexed and cursed repeatedly. He knew Jamal no longer had the power to hurt him, but he didn’t really believe it.
“You’re looking well,” Jamal said, finally. He took a step forward, casually. “I do believe a life on the run suits you.”
Johan found his voice. “How did you track us down?”
Jamal smirked. “You’re minutes from death and that’s your first question?”
He shrugged, keeping his eyes fixed on Johan. “We share the same blood, remember? I found it easy to follow you.”
“No, you didn’t,” Johan said. He reached out for Elaine, but felt nothing. She couldn’t be dead … and yet there was nothing coming down the link. “You don’t have any magic left. Someone else was with you.”
Jamal flushed. “The Emperor wants you dead,” he said, tightly. “He even sent someone to deal with your slutty friend. Does it feel better when you are bonded to your partner?”
Johan clenched his fists. Jamal was working for Deferens? Somehow, he wasn’t surprised. Jamal had always been ambitious; he’d searched for a good marriage, a good apprenticeship … anything else that could help him crawl up the social ladder. Working for the Emperor might even prove a way to regain some of his former life, even if he no longer had any magic. It wasn’t likely that anyone else would be willing to help.
He found his voice. “You’re a monster …”
“You’re the one who broke father,” Jamal reminded him. “You took his magic, remember?”
“He let you free,” Johan snapped. “Why didn’t he keep a tight leash on you when you were in deep shit? The oath he swore could have killed him – or the Inquisitors would, if they decided he’d evaded his sworn word!”
“He loved me,” Jamal said.
“And you broke his heart,” Johan said.
Jamal shrugged. “I would have made House Conidian great,” he said. “Father knew that, I think.”
&
nbsp; “You would have destroyed us,” Johan said. He had a feeling he wouldn’t have lasted, once Jamal had taken the helm. A Powerless was nothing more than an embarrassment. No one would have given a damn if Johan’s father had killed him. Or if his brother killed him after becoming Patriarch. “House Conidian would not have survived.”
“I would have been great,” Jamal sneered. The contempt in his voice was striking. “Look at you! You steal power, somehow, and yet … here you are, apprenticed to a mere librarian. And a young bitch, at that!”
He leered in a manner that was all too familiar, a reminder of the days when Jamal had been able to have anyone he wanted while Johan was always alone. “Tell me; do you feel your cock sliding into her when you take her?”
“Shut up,” Johan snapped. The mockery was more than he could take, but he had to keep control of himself. “You’re not worthy to talk about her!”
“Do you feel your fingers on her breasts?” Jamal asked. His face twisted into a snarl. “Do you taste your …”
“Shut up!” Johan shouted. How dare his brother speak so unpleasantly of Elaine? “I’ll kill you!”
“I’d be careful what you shout here,” Jamal sneered. He jerked a hand, indicating the mountainside. “Even the slightest scream could trigger another avalanche.”
He stepped forward, lifting his sword. “And no, you won’t kill me,” he said. “You have never been able to lift a hand to me.”
“Because you always made sure I couldn’t,” Johan said. His legs felt as if they were rooted to the spot as Jamal approached, cold ice holding him firmly in place. “You never gave me a fighting chance.”
“You never deserved one,” Jamal told him, smoothly. “You were nothing more than a filthy dirty powerless mundane. How could you possibly have come from our father’s loins? How could our father, the greatest sorcerer outside the Golden City, have sired a powerless child? When all of the rest of us have plenty of magic? And how could our mother have given birth to it?”
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