The Magelands Box Set

by Christopher Mitchell

  Maybe they were already there, she thought, and focussed her mind. She sent out her vision, down into the alleyways, ranging from point to point, scanning for anything out of place. She passed the janitor, who was shaking the padlocks on a line of tall lockers, and started checking each warehouse.

  Damn it, she thought, seeing a footstep in the dust by a back door. They must have arrived earlier, and she had missed them. She examined the door, and found a keyhole. She concentrated, and sent her vision through into the building, and down a corridor, until she saw the flickering light of a lamp coming from a room. She was already at the limit of her powers, ranging off a dozen points, and through a keyhole, and she sighed at the sight of another one. Cursing her lack of practice, she strained and went through.

  Douanna.

  The Rahain woman was sitting at the head of a long table, with a dozen other people arranged on benches down each side.

  ‘…a day of bloody reckoning, when debts will be repaid in full,’ she was saying. ‘All of you have worked for this, and I thank you for your faith in my leadership. Everything is now ready, all of our plans are in motion. The orders have been sent out to seize the organs of government, while our army…’

  ‘What about the assassins?’ a man asked.

  ‘What about them?’ she said. ‘They may have killed a few agents, but they haven’t come close to discovering us, and now it’s too late.’

  ‘But where is Jareov? He was supposed to be here tonight.’

  Douanna glanced at the empty space at the table and raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘Maybe you’re right. We’ll cut this meeting short, we’ve covered all the main points. You each know your role tonight. If fortune favours us, the next time we are all together, it will be in the High Senate, with the flag of the old Republic flying from its towers.’

  She stood.

  ‘And the chancellor?’

  Douanna smiled. ‘Laodoc’s head will be parted from his shoulders within the hour. By that time our soldiers will be in the centre of the city, and the traitor’s regime will be over.’

  The rest of them got to their feet, and Daphne’s strength failed, her vision snapping back to her body. She doubled over and vomited down the roof. Gripping her stomach, she rolled to her side and lay still, panting, her head and ears throbbing, her teeth aching.

  She reached for the flask in her backpack, unscrewed the lid and took a gulp of hot black coffee, thick with sugar. She gagged, but kept it down. She fumbled in the pack for a smoke, and found a stick of keenweed. She lit it and lay down, closing her eyes as the pain receded.

  Her relief faded as she went over the meeting she had witnessed in the warehouse. Her hatred for Douanna had returned, after being submerged for so long while she had been in Plateau City, and she felt an urge to hunt her down and kill her. She took another swig of coffee. It would take a few minutes before she would be capable of doing anything. Her frustration grew, and she took a long drag of keenweed.

  Douanna was getting away as she lay recovering on the roof, but Daphne knew how fast she could move once she switched into battle-vision. She would catch her, now that she had seen her.

  She remembered Laodoc.

  She screwed up her eyes and swore. She had failed. The coup was about to go ahead, and she had not been able to stop it; the conspiracy was too entrenched for her to defeat it on her own. She downed the rest of the coffee and finished the weedstick.

  ‘I’m coming, Laodoc,’ she muttered.

  The corridors and hallways around the chancellor’s apartments were deserted. The usual guard posts were abandoned, and no servants were in sight as Daphne lowered herself from a ceiling panel. She landed on the carpet, and sprinted towards the front door of Laodoc’s quarters, battle-vision powering her steps.

  The door was already open, and she raced through. A crossbow thrummed and a bolt sped past her face. She leapt to the right and punched the rebel soldier in the throat with her left arm guard, crushing his windpipe. She was running before he had toppled to the ground, passing the bodies of two slain servants in the reception hall.

  She heard motion from the large office ahead and kicked down the door, drawing her sword at the same time. Five soldiers were dragging Laodoc across the floor, his body limp. Daphne sliced her way through the group before they could turn, pushing her battle-vision to its fullest speed. Blood arced through the air, splashing onto the ceiling and walls as her razor-sharp blade cut down the rebel Rahain.

  As soon as the last fell she sheathed her sword and knelt by Laodoc.

  He was awake, weeping silent tears, his body shaking.

  ‘It’s all right,’ she said, cradling his head. She listened for more noise, but heard nothing.

  ‘Where are your staff and guards?’ she said. ‘We need to get you out of here. The coup’s begun.’

  She hauled him to his feet, putting her right arm over his shoulder.

  ‘Try to walk,’ she said. ‘We have to move.’

  Laodoc put one foot ahead of the other, but staggered and swayed, and Daphne strained to keep him upright. She thought of all the ways in and out of the chancellor’s residence. She knew half a dozen that would get her out of the building in minutes, were she on her own. If she had to carry Laodoc all the way, then her options narrowed.

  ‘Upstairs,’ she said, half-cajoling, half-dragging Laodoc along. The reception room was still empty, excepting the three bodies lying sprawled on the floor, and she pulled Laodoc to the stairwell at the rear of the apartment.

  Daphne let her battle-vision take over, and carried the old man up the steep flight, passing the attic level, until they reached the hatch to the roof. She put Laodoc down, and punched the lock off with her left knuckle guard. She flung open the hatch, then picked up Laodoc and pushed him up and out onto the roof. She staggered, and leaned against the wall, panting, then hoisted herself up, closing the hatch behind her.

  The air was chill and dark in the huge central cavern where the chancellor’s residence was located. There were cries and shouts from the streets below, and the thud of marching boots. Smoke was belching out of the upper windows of the old City Council building, and she could hear the sound of steel from over by the Senate.

  She glanced at Laodoc, who was lying on the roof next to her, his eyes staring at the smoke rising to their right.

  ‘The Council’s burning,’ he whispered.

  ‘I know. Listen, I’m going to leave you for a few minutes. There’s a service hatch in the roof that I can reach, but it’s too high for me to carry you up.’

  ‘Leave me,’ he said. ‘Save yourself.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Laodoc,’ she said. ‘I’m getting you out of here, trust me. I just need to fetch some rope from one of my supply dumps up there, and then I’ll be able to help you climb into the service tunnels, where we’ll be safe.’ She reached into her pack for a flask of water. ‘Have some of this. I’ll be back soon.’

  She clambered to her feet, and sprinted for the hatch.

  Several hours later, Daphne sat in the light of a single candle, watching as Laodoc slept. He looked old, and worn out. She had checked him for injuries when they had arrived, but he had none worse than a couple of bruises. She had then left him sleeping in the service tunnel alcove, and taken a look down at the city. Old Free soldiers were swarming through the central caverns, and the imperial flag had been torn down from the Senate building. The rebels had brought in a mass of armed peasants from out-lying rural areas, and they had taken bloody revenge on any ex-slave they had found in the streets, which were awash with blood.

  Laodoc stirred, muttered, and woke. He shot upright, staring around.

  ‘Relax,’ she said. ‘We’re safe. You rested?’

  ‘Miss Daphne,’ he said, ‘where are we?’

  ‘Above the Quartz Caverns.’

  ‘We need to get to the Senate…’

  ‘It’s too late.’

  Laodoc blinked.

 
; ‘The Old Free have taken control,’ she said. ‘Their soldiers are patrolling the streets, along with armed mobs of peasants.’

  ‘Then I’ve failed,’ he said, hanging his head.

  ‘I failed you. I couldn’t stop the coup. I’m sorry.’

  Laodoc shook his head. ‘It’s not your fault. I should have asked for your assistance earlier, when it might have had a chance of succeeding, but I was too proud.’

  ‘I saw Douanna tonight.’

  ‘Did you kill her?’

  ‘I saw her through range-vision,’ Daphne said. ‘Wasn’t close enough. If what she said was right, then she’s in charge of the city.’

  Laodoc’s face rippled with anger. He clenched his fists.

  ‘Here,’ Daphne said, passing him a flask.

  He took a swig, the brandy flushing his cheeks.

  She lit a smokestick.

  ‘I’ll be ready for another burst of battle-vision soon.’

  ‘Do you have a plan?’

  ‘We’re getting out of here,’ she said. ‘Fly back to Slateford, if we can.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘With the Old Free in charge, Slateford is at risk,’ she said, ‘but it’s still much safer than here. They won’t have the strength to attack the estate for a long while yet.’

  ‘I didn’t mean why Slateford,’ he said, ‘I meant why anywhere. Douanna has won. She has destroyed everything I’ve fought for, and I’m not altogether sure I want to be around to see her rule.’

  ‘You’re not giving up,’ she said. ‘I’m not going to let you. You brought hope to everyone you freed, and now they’re back living under those who want to enslave them again. You’re not abandoning them, Laodoc. In Slateford we can re-group, and make contact with the imperial army. It’s still out there, marching this way. The cause is not lost.’

  ‘I’m so tired, Daphne.’

  ‘I know.’

  They sat in silence, while Daphne smoked, feeling her energy return.

  She stood. ‘Up.’

  Laodoc looked at her with pain in his eyes, but rose to his feet. ‘Is it far?’

  ‘It’s not close. Come on.’

  She took his hand, blew out the candle, and began trotting down the tunnel.

  They weaved their way through the service shafts that spread above the main cavern network, heading south towards the edge of the city. They had to halt often, to allow Laodoc to recover. Each time Daphne grew a little more impatient, but stayed cheerful, encouraging him ever onward.

  When they dropped out of a hatch, the roads were quiet. At the far end of the tunnel, a shaft of dawn sunlight was breaking through an opening.

  ‘Nearly there,’ Daphne said, helping Laodoc back to his feet. ‘Happy Winter’s Day.’

  ‘And to you, my dear.’

  She supported him for the final walk, past deserted and boarded up storerooms, until they reached the source of the light. Beyond a low gate, a platform jutted out of the mountainside, and Daphne gasped as she saw the snow-clad hillsides and high valleys.

  A pike was waved at them, but the grey-uniformed Holdings woman grasping it said nothing, her mouth open as she stared at Laodoc and Daphne.

  ‘Morning, trooper,’ Daphne said, showing her agent’s badge. ‘Are there gaien ready back there? We need to get the chancellor of the republic out of the city.’

  The trooper jumped to attention.

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’ She opened the gate, and Daphne led Laodoc through.

  Other imperial troopers emerged from a guardhouse by the gaien stables to their left.

  ‘Is that the chancellor?’ cried one.

  ‘Get a carriage ready,’ Daphne said.

  An officer strode towards her. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘This is Chancellor Laodoc,’ Daphne said, as the Holdings man approached. ‘We need to get him into a flying carriage.’

  ‘Why?’ the officer said. ‘Is there a problem? Who are you?’

  ‘I’m Daphne Holdfast,’ she said, to a few gasps from the troopers, ‘currently working for the republic.’

  She showed the officer her badge.

  ‘Daphne Holdfast?’

  ‘Yes, Lieutenant. There’s been a coup.’

  The officer’s mouth opened.

  The other troopers crowded round.

  ‘A coup?’

  ‘Yes,’ Daphne said, addressing them all. ‘The Old Free have moved their army into the city, and given free rein to the peasants to take their revenge out on the New Free. The Senate has fallen. Chancellor Laodoc, however, is safe.’

  ‘Thanks to you,’ the old Rahain man said.

  The officer shook his head. ‘We’ve not had any orders. Until we’ve had orders I can’t do anything.’

  ‘Forget your orders,’ Daphne said, ‘I’m giving you new ones. You’re taking the chancellor to Slateford, and I strongly recommend that you withdraw your troopers there at the same time. Do you understand, Lieutenant?’

  The officer hesitated.

  ‘Miss Holdfast,’ cried a trooper who was standing by the gate. ‘Soldiers are coming!’

  ‘Move!’ Daphne yelled, pulling Laodoc towards the nearest carriage. ‘Get the gaien ready.’

  The troopers scattered, each running to get the carriage prepared, leaving the lieutenant standing alone, his mouth still open.

  Four gnarly old winged gaien were led out of their stables, and hitched to the carriage. The sound of shouting reached them, but the troopers kept at their work. Daphne led Laodoc into the carriage, and helped strap him into a seat.

  ‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ she said.

  She jumped back off the carriage to see the gate being swept aside by a swarm of brown-uniformed soldiers. They raced across the platform, cutting down a pair of Holdings troopers who were dragging supplies towards the carriage. They would be at the gaien in seconds.

  Daphne drew her sword and surged her battle-vision.

  She leapt into the front ranks of Old Free, gliding her sword through the neck of the closest soldier. The soldiers backed off from her, and she carved out a wide space, dropping any within her reach, the blood splattering her black leathers. She heard the carriage move off behind her and pushed her powers further than she had attempted before, moving like lightning among the rebel fighters, dealing death with her blade and armoured fist.

  They began to turn and run, and she spun round, racing after the carriage as it gathered speed. Two of the four gaien were already airborne. Daphne sprinted, and leapt just as the carriage cleared the platform and soared into the sky.

  She landed back onto the ground with a crunch, and gazed up as the gaien banked and swept their great wings, bearing the carriage further from her with every second.

  She pushed herself to her feet, and heard the twang of crossbows. She dived to her right, rolled and ran as fast as she could across the platform, weaving until she barrelled through a tunnel exit. She felt exhaustion flow through her, but powered on, dashing along the tunnel until she saw the entrance to a service shaft. Without pausing, she opened the hatch and jumped in, her heart racing. She closed the hatch behind her and fell to her knees.

  Tears came to her eyes and she punched the side of the tunnel.

  She forced herself back up, and began running, knowing the gaien platform behind her would be crawling with rebel soldiers. At least Laodoc and the majority of the imperial troopers had got away, she thought, though she had no idea how she was going to get out of the city.

  The Church Mission stood alone, detached from the other buildings in the central governmental cavern. Its walls had been strengthened and heightened since it had been used as the Holdings embassy. Companies of Old Free soldiers had surrounded the complex, setting up roadblocks around it. From her position on the roof of a neighbouring building, Daphne could see the imperial defenders behind the mission walls, their crossbows ready.

  Daphne was aching all over, her nerves were shredded, and she knew her energy levels were low. She lay on the roof, and f
ocussed on the wall’s defenders. She avoided every black-clad deacon, and picked out a young Holdings trooper, positioned halfway down a side wall, near a postern gate.

  She visioned into the woman’s head.

  Don’t be alarmed. I’m a friend. I need help. Go down the steps and open the side gate.

  The trooper staggered, grasping onto the battlements, her eyes staring about.

  Don’t panic. I’m a Holdings agent, using vision skills to enter your head. Go downstairs and open the gate. I’m on the roof of the building opposite you.

  Daphne exerted some of the push skills that Kalayne had shown her, the ones he used when he wanted to persuade someone.

  The trooper squinted up at the roof, and Daphne risked a small wave. The trooper dropped her crossbow in surprise. She bent down to pick it up, then ran to the steps.

  Daphne moved. She sprinted to the edge of the roof, and shimmied down the long drainage pipe to the ground, about ten yards to the rear of a roadblock. She ran without noise, then leapt up, her feet landing on the shoulders of a rebel soldier. She pushed herself off, and turned through the air above the heads of the soldiers, who stared up at her with mouths open.

  Daphne cleared the roadblock, and ran zigzagging for the postern gate as it opened in front of her. Crossbow bolts flew past, hitting the wall and skidding off the cobbles. The gate opened a foot’s width, and she threw herself across the threshold, then kicked the door shut with a thud.

  She looked up. The trooper was staring down at her, her eyes wide.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Daphne, getting up and brushing down her leathers, ‘and apologies for going into your head without asking, but I was in rather a tight spot.’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘Daphne Holdfast,’ she smiled. ‘Do you fancy taking me to see Father Ghorley?’

  ‘I wondered when I’d see you again,’ Ghorley beamed as Daphne was led into his office. ‘Please, have a seat. Smoke? Drink? Are you hungry?’