She looked at Johan. If she was right, they should be able to channel his magic through the bond and control it. If she was wrong …
“I’m ready,” Johan said. He turned to look at her, his trust shining through the link. “Are you?”
“I think so,” Elaine said. She took his hands and closed her eyes. “Concentrate on fire …”
***
Charity watched helplessly as the Emperor’s troops advanced forward, scrambling up the creepers and throwing themselves over the walls. Hundreds had died, but the Emperor had thousands in reserve, backed up by his army of creepy-crawly monsters. Inch by inch, they were pushing the defenders off the walls and securing control of the battlements, which made it easier to rush new troops forward. The Emperor, it seemed, was finally winning.
A dragon swooped low over the city, breathing fire over the defenders. The Emperor’s troops raised a cheer as the dragon retreated, then lunged forward into the empty space and summoned reinforcements. A handful of arrows flashed down from deeper within the city, but it wasn’t enough to stop the advance. Nothing could stop it. Charity closed her eyes in pain. Johan and his friends would die as Ida fell to the Emperor, its population butchered and sole city destroyed. There could be no escape.
“They will burn,” the Emperor breathed. “They will all bow before me.”
Charity felt it suddenly, a tingling in the air that made her hair stand on end. She flashed back, her head spinning, to the moment Johan had turned her into a rat, to the moment her thoughts had come to an abrupt halt as everything changed. The ground seemed to shudder beneath her feet; she closed her eyes, fighting for balance, then looked up as brilliant light flared over the walls. Flames flashed into existence, burning the creeper to ash and incinerating the advancing soldiers.
They’re not normal flames, she thought, stunned. There were magicians who could unleash the very fires of hell, but none of them could control the flames. Here … the flames seemed to be advancing under intelligence guidance. That’s magic!
“Get another ritual ready,” the Emperor barked. His voice was hard, but Charity thought she could hear cold desperation in his tone. “Those flames have to be snuffed!”
“Yes, Your Supremacy,” General Vetch said.
“No,” the Emperor said, before the General could summon the magicians. His voice was different. “Pull back the remaining troops.”
Charity blinked. She’d expected anything, but an order to retreat. “Your Supremacy?”
“Pull back the remaining troops,” the Emperor repeated, as the flames grew brighter. Charity was sure she could see shapes within the blaze, flaming humanoids walking through the air and incinerating everyone they touched. The sight chilled her to the bone. “We will hold position here and keep Ida under siege.”
“Yes, Your Supremacy,” General Vetch said. He sounded relieved, too relieved to question the change in his master. “I shall see to it at once.”
The Emperor turned to look towards the flames. “This is only the beginning,” he said, so quietly that Charity was the only one who heard. “There will be time to revenge myself on Ida later.”
His face shifted again. “We will hold the line here.”
“Yes, Your Supremacy,” Charity said. Was he mad? But his madness had produced a reasonable decision. “Ida did take a battering.”
“Yes, it did,” the Emperor agreed. “We will regroup and prepare another offensive.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“They’re cheering for you,” Elaine said, as she led Johan back towards the castle. A handful of soldiers had surrounded them, providing a honour guard. “They think you won the war.”
Johan nodded, feeling a confused mix of emotions. He’d wanted fame, once upon a time, but he hadn’t realised that fame would bring notoriety. He could have been a great warrior or a mighty builder if his family had given him the chance … now, he was a magician and his magic had been used to incinerate hundreds of people. It was worse, far worse, than the moment he’d destroyed the bridges, even though the flames had been under Elaine’s control. How many people had died at his hands?
Elaine squeezed his hand. “There was no choice,” she said, quietly. “You were the secret weapon.”
Dread met them at the castle’s entrance. Johan smelt burning wood – the gates had been destroyed by the dragons – as they walked inside, heading towards the throne room. The Queen had commanded the battle from her War Room, he knew, although he had a feeling she hadn’t issued many commands. Colonel Tarpon – and Dread – had been the officers on the spot. But her survival meant the kingdom’s survival.
No wonder she wants Dread, Johan thought numbly. Even without magic, he’s formidable.
“Welcome back,” Sacharissa said, once the doors were closed. “And I thank you.”
“It isn’t the end,” Dread warned. “The Emperor is unlikely to tolerate our survival for long.”
Sacharissa bowed her head in mute acknowledgement. Johan couldn’t help feeling a flicker of pity, understanding – finally – some of the pressures that had driven his father. House Conidian needed to survive, whatever the cost. But Duncan Conidian had allowed his oldest son to become a bully … he hoped, inwardly, that Sacharissa would make sure her children didn’t turn into monsters, no matter who she married. Dread would probably make sure of it personally.
“I know,” Sacharissa said. She looked at Elaine. “Are you sure you and Johan want to go alone?”
Johan sensed Elaine’s hesitation. She was the most capable magician in Ida – he felt another stab of guilt for stealing Dread’s powers – and she was bonded to him, but she might find herself badly outmatched if she ran into trouble. And yet, he understood why she wanted to handle it alone. A large search party tramping through the catacombs might trigger hidden defences or even awaken the Witch-King ahead of time … and mundane soldiers would be little more than targets to the lich.
“I don’t think I have a choice,” Elaine said. “There isn’t anyone who can come with us.”
“Then go, with my blessing,” Sacharissa said. She clapped her hands together, summoning a tall man wearing a green uniform. “Carlos will show you to the entrance.”
Johan blinked in surprise – he had expected more of a fight – but he knew that Sacharissa believed they were searching for an ancient artefact, rather than a lich. She probably assumed she’d have the chance to take a look at it once it was hauled up to the surface – and find out if there was a way to turn it against her enemies. Johan knew she’d be disappointed, but kept that thought to himself. The fewer people who knew what they were hunting, the better.
“Take my staff,” Dread urged. “It has some protective charms built in.”
“I don’t know how to use it,” Elaine said. She gave the ex-Inquisitor a long look. Johan didn’t need to bond to know she wished Dread could come with them too. “Take care of the surface, all right?”
Dread nodded. Elaine bowed to him, curtseyed to the Queen and then allowed Carlos to lead them out of the room. Johan hastily bowed himself – he had no idea how much reverence was due to a queen, but he liked and respected Sacharissa – and followed Elaine as Carlos lead her down a long flight of stairs into a set of underground chambers. One of them, brightly lit by magical orbs, was crammed with young children and a handful of expectant mothers, who stared at them openly as they passed. Johan had no idea if the children gathered here were every last child in Ida, but he hoped – prayed – they survived the next assault. Vlad Deferens was unlikely to leave them in peace for long.
“This is the gate to the catacombs,” he said, after they had walked down another winding set of stairs. Johan couldn’t help wondering if they were actually below World’s Gate. “Beyond this point, no one may go without permission.”
“We have permission,” Elaine said. Johan caught the tension in her voice, although he doubted Carlos would be able to hear it. “Open the doors.”
Carlos nodded curtly, then pres
sed his hand against a giant stone door. There must have been magic in them, Johan decided, for they opened the moment he touched them. Inside, there was nothing but a long, dark passageway leading downwards. The air smelt stale, as if it had been centuries since the doors had been opened. He felt an odd thrill as he stepped forward, mingled with fear. They could be lost under Ida forever, if they weren’t careful.
He looked at Carlos, trying to keep the concern out of his voice. “Is there a map?”
Carlos laughed. “Of course not,” he said sarcastically. “The catacombs are meant to be safe!”
“Thank you,” Elaine said, tartly. “Wait for us here.”
She took Johan’s hand as she walked forward, through the doors. Johan heard Carlos snicker behind them – he made a mental note to extract painful and humiliating revenge later – as the doors closed, plunging them into darkness. Elaine cast a light spell, then looked around carefully. Johan did the same, taking in the stone walls and the hundreds of carvings someone had carefully etched out on the stone. The darkness fell back, inviting them to walk onwards; in the distance, he could hear the sound of water dripping to the ground.
“There was an agreement between Ida and the Empire, made sometime after the Second Necromantic War,” Elaine said, very quietly. “The Kings of Ida and their people wanted the right to bury their bodies, rather than burn them to ash. They agreed that the bodies could be stored in the crypt below Ida, as long as they were held within a pocket dimension that could be collapsed at a moment’s notice.”
Johan nodded, slowly. It was vanishingly rare for dead bodies not to be burnt, not when the remains of a living person could be used in all manner of dark spells. If Jamal had been able to track him down, just through the blood-tie, another sorcerer could do the same – or worse – with a sample of Jamal’s blood. His father had worried, endlessly, about what would happen if Johan had fallen into enemy hands. Even death wouldn’t keep him from being used against his family.
“Because the bodies might come back to life,” he said, carefully. “Would they have a link to the living?”
“I’m not sure,” Elaine said. “If someone had your father’s body, they might be able to curse you, but I don’t know if they’d succeed if they had your grandfather’s body. Or your great-grandfather’s body.”
Johan scowled. “Because I’m only a fourth of him,” he said. The gods knew his parents had dug back through the family tree, trying to find an answer to the question of why Johan had apparently been born without magic. “There would be too many other potential relatives.”
“Correct,” Elaine agreed. “Unless, of course, someone wanted to curse your entire family.”
They reached the bottom of the passageway and looked around as it opened into a wide chamber. Elaine tossed a second light globe into the air; Johan looked around as it revealed a hundred broken statues, lying on the ground where they’d fallen. The only intact one was of a bearded man with a grim expression, carrying a sword in a manner that was better for showing off than actual fighting. Johan couldn’t help thinking he looked tough, then frowned as he sensed a flicker of dismay from Elaine.
“There are traces of magic leading further down into the catacombs,” she said. “I think they’re heading towards the pocket dimension.”
Johan gave her a puzzled look. “Can’t we just collapse it?”
“If we can,” Elaine said. She closed her eyes for a long moment. “If the Witch-King is in the dimension, we can try to crush him by collapsing the dimensional walls around his body …”
“Except he might have taken precautions against us doing that,” Johan finished, as her voice trailed off. “Or he isn’t in the dimension in the first place.”
“It’s a possibility,” Elaine agreed. She waved her wand in the air, casting a handful of tracing spells. “The magic is flowing this way, so …”
The air grew warmer as they made their way deeper under the mountain. Johan looked around, taking in the growing number of statues and – below them – the coffins that housed the remains of Ida’s dead. They’d have decayed by now, he was sure, although there were plenty of spells that could have preserved a dead body from the moment of death. He briefly considered opening a coffin, then rejected the idea. The dead should be allowed to stay dead.
“The agreement puzzled me at the time,” Elaine added, as they passed a line of weeping angel statues. “There was no logical reason for the Empire to allow Ida such freedom, not when undead plagues can be devastating. Hell, Dark Wizards would be making a run to Ida just to stock up on components from dead bodies. But if the whole agreement was meant to hide something …”
“Like the Witch-King,” Johan said. “But Ida was never overrun by his forces.”
“Valiant could have been playing both sides of the war,” Elaine said. “The books aren’t very clear on just how many people knew that Valiant had betrayed the Emperor. They may never have drawn the connection between Valiant and the Witch-King. If Ida thought it was doing a service for the great hero …”
She shook her head. “Or they might just have been spellbound, like Deferens’ distant ancestors,” she added. “They were encouraged to develop an insular culture that kept itself as aloof as possible from the rest of the world.”
“Except that both Hilarion and Kane came from Ida,” Johan pointed out. “He must have intended to bring Ida’s isolation to an end eventually.”
“We wouldn’t take them seriously,” Elaine said. “I don’t think anyone took Hilarion to be a serious contender for Grand Sorcerer, not at first.”
She shook her head. “We may never know,” she concluded. “All we can do is try to deal with the Witch-King before it’s too late.”
Johan nodded and followed her through another series of twisting corridors. It felt odd to him, as if something was gently trying to push them away; he couldn’t help thinking of the first set of wards that had protected his family’s original home. They convinced people that there was nothing there; mundanes would turn around and walk away, ignorant of the hidden building behind the walls. Even magicians would have problems getting through the first line of defence, unless they were truly determined to break in. They tended to be met by heavier defences once they crossed the walls.
“The magic traces are actually making it harder for the wards to push us away,” Elaine said, when he mentioned that out loud. She sounded more than a little disturbed. “There’s an elegance here I haven’t seen since I started crafting my own protections.”
“The Witch-King knows more about magic than most,” Johan reminded her. “He might be able to duplicate some of your work.”
“Or create it first,” Elaine said. She turned a corner and came face to face with a stone door, blocking their path. “The traces go through here.”
“I could blast down the door,” Johan suggested.
“It might provoke a reaction,” Elaine said. She held her wand out, testing the door carefully for unpleasant surprises. “There’s a nasty set of hexes buried within the stone. I’ll have to remove them one by one.”
Johan looked around. The faint sense that the wards were pushing him away was growing stronger; somehow, no matter how much he tried to ignore it, he had the feeling that someone was watching them. He peered at the statues, leaning against the wall, and shuddered. They were too perfect to be real.
There was a flash of light, then the door opened, revealing a giant chamber. A faint light pulsed down from high overhead, illuminating a giant coffin positioned right at the heart of the cave, surrounded by hundreds of runes. Johan hadn’t seen anything so elaborate, even when he’d walked into the Great Library and seen some of the defences. The scent of magic in the air was almost overpowering …
“Stay where you are,” Elaine snapped. Johan started. He’d begun to walk forward without quite realising what he was doing. “You don’t know what other traps there are in here.”
Johan flushed in embarrassment. He’d been the victim of eno
ugh pranks to know the dangers and yet the magic had influenced him, pulling him into the chamber. Elaine gave his hand a gentle squeeze, then leant forward, waving her wand in the air. The runes seemed to glow brighter for a second; the magic field flickered, then steadied itself.
“Interesting,” Elaine mused.
“That’s not quite the word I would have used to describe it,” Johan said.
Elaine nodded, one hand stroking her chin. “The pocket dimension must be directly above us,” she said, slowly. “Anyone carrying out a check wouldn’t have detected anything below such a concentration of strong magic, assuming they even bothered to look. The runes aren’t just for preservation, Johan; they’re for concealment. I don’t think anyone, even an Inquisitor, could have found this place without help.”
Johan frowned, feeling cold ice trickling down his spine. “So how did we find it?”
“We were looking for it,” Elaine hazarded. He sensed her doubt and shared it. The Witch-King might have deliberately let them come to him, rather than push them away. “Unless his protections have been fading over the last few decades.”
She waved her wand again. “It should be safe to walk closer,” she added, “but don’t stand on any of the runes. I think you’d regret it.”
Johan nodded, then froze as he heard a creaking sound behind him. He turned and peered into the darkness, but saw nothing. The expression on the nearest statue looked faintly mocking … had it changed? He shared a glance with Elaine, tasting her concern. If he’d paid more attention to the statues …
“The magic is shifting,” Elaine said, very quietly. “It’s growing stronger.”
The creaking sound echoed, again. Johan stared at the statue, suddenly convinced it was alive and watching them. It shivered, suddenly; its arms rose and stretched, as if it were waking up from a long sleep. Elaine bit out a curse and pulled him back, into the chamber, as more statues came to life. Their angelic faces were twisted with bitter hatred as they turned to face the intruders. Johan reached for his magic, trying to focus his mind. They were trapped …
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