The Magelands Box Set

by Christopher Mitchell

  He didn’t mind. He would lie there until the last breath left his body, and then he would be at peace.

  Don’t give up, he heard a voice call to him. You’re so close, Laodoc. Just a little further.

  Laodoc lifted his head, straining to see where the voice was coming from. There was a wisp of movement ahead of him, a flash of a white robe, and he stared.

  ‘Simiona?’

  He pulled himself up and stood, his knees shaky. The clouds of smoke were thinning, and the light in front of him brightened. He saw a door in a wall. It was lying open, and he caught a glimpse of the white robes disappear inside.

  Laodoc staggered forward, his heart bursting with longing and grief. He nearly fell, but kept on, his feet shuffling over the cobbles. He reached the door and peered into the darkness within.

  ‘Hello?’ he called out.

  Nothing.

  He stepped inside, and the door closed behind him. A row of wall-lights burst into flame, lighting up a long corridor. At the end of it stood a young woman in white, her back to him. She turned her head, smiled, and began to ascend a flight of stairs. He stared at her as she moved out of view, tears rolling down his cheeks.

  He shook his head, but there was no room in his mind for anything other than following his lost Simiona, and he placed one foot in front of the other and walked onwards.

  Keep going, Laodoc, my dear. I’m waiting for you.

  He wept, and quickened his step. His knees were aching and his breath ragged, but he ignored the complaints coming from his body, his will stronger than his frail shell, his love more powerful than his weakness.

  He reached the stairs, and collapsed.

  Pain rippled through his body and he awoke screaming.

  ‘Come on, wake up,’ said a voice. ‘You lazy old reptile.’

  Laodoc opened his eyes. He was lying on his side on a low wooden pallet, in a small windowless room. Chains were attached to his wrists and ankles. He raised his head. In front of him was standing an enormous figure in black armour.

  ‘Did you enjoy your little illusion?’ he said. ‘I’d hoped that your will to see that slave girl again would have been enough to bear you to the top of the fortress on your own, but no, I had to come down and get you myself.’ He laughed, an ugly guttural sound. ‘The others practically ran up the stairs, so keen were they to join the party.’

  Laodoc said nothing, his eyes on the Emperor.

  ‘I’m learning, you see,’ he went on. ‘I went out first to collect Keira the fire mage, but I got a burning house dropped on me and two arrows in my head for my trouble. For Daphne Holdfast I killed and then raised a few peasants to capture her, which was tiring, so for your group I decided to simply sit here and wait for you to come to me.’

  Keira? he thought. Daphne? His heart broke in despair. The Emperor had them all.

  ‘Pathetic,’ the Emperor said. ‘How easy it is to manipulate you creatures. Fill you full of hope, then snatch it away again, like playing with puppets.’

  ‘Who are you?’ Laodoc gasped.

  ‘You know who I am,’ he said. ‘I am the Creator of this universe. I made everything in it, the mountains, the ocean. You.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘Of course you’d say that. Laodoc, the ever-sceptical atheist, seeker of scientific knowledge and truth. To be honest I don’t care if you believe in me or not. In a few hours it won’t make any difference.’

  ‘But if you created us,’ Laodoc said, ‘why did you put suffering into the world? And don’t say free will. Free will doesn’t cause disease, or famine, or drought. You could have made a world where children didn’t die because of sickness, or even placed a tiny sliver of more compassion into people, blunt their crueller instincts. You could have done all of that and still allowed us free will.’

  The Emperor shook his head. ‘Your questions are meaningless. They assume I care whether or not you suffer. Do you think my heart bleeds when one of you is hurt? My world and yours are so far removed from each other that I feel no more empathy for you than I would an insect. As a mage, you are worth a little more to me than the average, but only as a tool to fulfil my purposes. Nothing more.’

  ‘You are evil.’

  ‘Evil?’ the Emperor laughed. ‘Are you evil if you swat a fly? If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t be here, none of this world would exist. I gave you life. All the emotions you feel: love, pity, friendship. Hate. They’re only there because I made you capable of feeling them. But what is in my power to give, I can also take away.’

  ‘Do you have children?’

  The Emperor paused. ‘What?’

  ‘I had two sons,’ Laodoc said. ‘My wife and I gave them life, and when they grew up we let them go out into the world, to become men. Though in my heart I always loved them, they were no longer mine to control. I had no right to take their lives from them. If I had done so, I would be evil. It is the same with you. Once you made us, we no longer belonged to you. We are free.’

  The Emperor stood in silence for a moment, then turned and left the cell. Laodoc watched the door shut then lay his head down on the low pallet, the chains digging into his skin.

  His eyes closed, a tear escaping and rolling down his cheek. He was going to die in a few hours, knowing that although he had been wrong his whole life, he had left god with nothing to say.

  Chapter 36

  Defiance

  Plateau City, Imperial Plateau – 19th Day, Second Third Winter 507

  ‘Why is mummy angry?’ asked Daphne from high up on her horse.

  ‘Shh,’ said Ariel, glancing at their mother, who was riding her own stallion in front of them on the path.

  Daphne frowned, her hands clutching onto the reins of her mount. She gazed around at the endless grassy pastureland and fenced-off fields, where dozens of horses grazed and cantered in the bright afternoon sunshine. She usually loved her daily trip out with her elder sister and mother. The two girls would ride their horses, dressed in their smartest clothes, their hair groomed and faces clean. Often their mother would chat to them, and tell them stories, or teach them how to be ladies, and Daphne would listen with keen ears and wide eyes.

  ‘Head up, Daphne,’ she heard her mother say. ‘Shoulders back.’

  ‘Yes, mummy.’

  ‘Ariel, stop chewing,’ her mother went on. ‘You look like a hired hand.’

  ‘Sorry, mummy.’

  The two girls glanced at each other, their expressions a mixture of mischievousness and fear. Mother had a temper, which was mostly directed at their father, but occasionally the children would be on the receiving end of an angry tirade. In recent days these seemed to have become more common, and Daphne had been on edge, trying her best never to say or do anything which might make her angry.

  That day however, they were all supposed to be happy. Daphne had never seen her father so delighted. A man she rarely saw, let alone talked to, her father’s moods had long been a source of anxiety to her, but after the priests had departed the estate house that morning, he had been whooping and grinning, and hugging Vince as if they hadn’t seen each other in a long time.

  ‘What does it mean?’ she whispered to her sister who, being three years older, was considered by Daphne to be very wise. ‘What’s a vision mage?’

  Ariel’s eyes widened. Before she could say anything, their mother pulled on the reins of her mount and brought it to a halt. She turned to face the girls.

  ‘It means your brother is special,’ she said. ‘He has been given a wonderful gift by the Creator.’

  Daphne smiled. ‘That’s nice, mummy.’

  Her mother frowned, her features darkening in a growing fury. Daphne edged back in her saddle, and she sensed Ariel do the same.

  ‘It also means that Vince will be leaving us,’ she went on. ‘He will go and join the cavalry when he is old enough, and he will be lost to me.’

  Daphne’s heart sank. ‘He can’t go!’

  ‘He’s not leaving yet, you s
illy girl,’ her mother said, ‘but it’s inevitable.’

  ‘Father seems happy about it,’ said Ariel.

  ‘Well, yes,’ she said, ‘of course he is. He gets to brag to his friends about his son having battle vision, just like him.’ She looked away, her eyes gazing into the distance. ‘No doubt he also hopes it will increase his standing with the queen.’

  Ariel’s nine-year-old face frowned. ‘Father said that Vince is lucky to be a mage, and that anyone who says bad things about them is just jealous.’

  ‘He would say that, wouldn’t he?’ their mother said. ‘But he’s wrong. Maybe the very highest mages are envied for their power, those closest to the prophet, but I feel sorry for them all. Being a mage is a burden and a curse. A life of thankless duty awaits Vince. They will take my gentle boy away and train him to be a killer.’ She looked at her two daughters. ‘And I have three other children still to be tested by the priests, when your time comes.’

  ‘I hope Jonah has the vision,’ said Daphne. ‘I want him to leave. I hate him.’

  Their mother narrowed her eyes at her, then flicked the reins.

  ‘Your father may have won the first round,’ she said, turning her mount, ‘but there are three more battles ahead.’

  She kicked her heels, and her horse trotted off. Daphne and Ariel glanced at each other, and followed.

  Her body beaten, Daphne lay curled up in the straw and dirt on the floor of the dark cell. Her leathers had been stripped from her, and she shivered in her long under-shirt. The beautifully crafted armour that had protected her crippled left arm had been ripped off in the frenzied assault by those the Creator had raised from the dead. She had killed dozens of them when they had attacked, sending them to second deaths, only minutes after their first. It had been the sight of Chane among her attackers that had undone her. She had frozen for a moment, and her eyes had caught sight of Killop, swinging his long sword amid a swarm of risen peasants. A moment had been enough. Dozens of hands had taken hold of her, and she had fallen, kicked, scratched, punched and bitten, until she had almost been crushed to death under the mob.

  Some small part of her mind remembered every long minute that followed, of being dragged over the cobbles by her arms, then carried into the Great Fortress. Rahain soldiers had taken custody of her, stripped and chained her, then thrown her into the cell where she now lay.

  Blood trickled from her mouth, and she clasped her left arm in her right, holding it close to her body. Her crippled elbow felt broken, the fierce agony tempered by battle-vision, but she was weak, and it took all of her concentration to block out the pain. If she let go, she would slip into an unconsciousness from which she might not awaken. She remembered asking Killop to make sure she wasn’t captured, but despite everything, she was glad to be alive. Being alive gave her another chance to fight.

  No matter what happened, she would go down fighting. She was a Holdfast, and she had been captured and tortured before, and she would not shame the family; she would not give in. Let her defiance stand for everything and everyone she loved. Killop, Karalyn. She would never betray them.

  She lessened her battle-vision a fraction, allowing more pain through in order to conserve her energy. She could take it. It was no worse than when B’Dang had shattered her arm in the Sanang forest over four years before. She had endured that, she could endure this. As her pain levels rose, so did her anger. She hoped Kylon was dead. She hoped Keira had made it slow and painful. If it weren’t for him, they could all be living safely in the desert borderlands of Hold Fast.

  She knew she would probably never see her daughter again, but the future wasn’t fixed, and even the tiniest hope would keep her strong and sustain her through the worst nightmare. She took a long breath, taking the cold air in though her nose, and out through her mouth, clearing her mind. The cell she was in was sealed and in utter darkness, with no windows or cracks in the door to allow her vision through. There were two air vents built into the wall, but both were fitted with a series of meshes too fine for her vision to penetrate. A cell designed for a vision mage. She had no idea of the time, but it felt as if she had been lying in the cell for hours.

  A blinding light split the room, and Daphne clenched her eyes shut as she heard the door of her cell open. She squinted, and saw a Rahain guard hook a lamp to the wall and walk out. Her eyes adjusted to the light as an immense figure appeared in the doorway. He stepped inside, and the door closed behind him.

  He towered over her.

  ‘Holdfast,’ he said, the voice coming from behind a steel mask.

  She wiped the blood from her mouth. ‘Creator.’

  ‘We meet again.’

  Daphne turned and pushed herself up so that she was sitting with her back to the wall. She rested her crippled arm on her lap, and gazed up at the figure in black armour.

  ‘You got a cigarette?’

  The Creator stared down at her, and she heard a low mocking laugh from behind the mask.

  ‘The Holdings were always my favourite people,’ he said. ‘Made in my image, did you know that? Of course not, how could you comprehend anything about me? For long millennia I was alone. I witnessed everything, but could do nothing. And then, finally, the first prophet appeared, five hundred years ago, and then at last I could speak with another being. I guided your nation for five centuries, preaching my message of unity, dreaming that one day the peoples I created would live together in peace.’

  ‘Peace?’ Daphne said.

  ‘Yes, for only through peace would the conditions arise to allow all five types of mages to be gathered together.’

  ‘I thought for a moment you were saying you cared for us.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Holdfast. When I created this universe, and designed the beings that would live in it, I admit I held some foolish views regarding your worth. However, millennia of watching you slaughter each other, and then, when the five continents were melded into one, and the land settled down, what did you do? You continued to slaughter, only this time you fought the other races. Forgive me, but I lost any sympathy for the inhabitants of this world a long time ago.’

  Daphne shook her head. ‘I don’t believe you had any to begin with.’

  ‘Maybe you’re right. What does it matter now? It’ll all be over soon.’

  ‘You’re going to kill us all?’

  ‘Yes. Not personally, of course, but you will all cease to exist. The universe will collapse, and everything in it will be as if it never was.’

  ‘And you?’

  ‘I will be home,’ he said, ‘free of this grotesque charade. It was a mistake, all of it. I should have listened.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’

  ‘I thought someone should know,’ he said, ‘even if your life will be over soon, along with everything else. I thought about telling Laodoc, but all he wanted was to debate theology.’

  ‘Laodoc?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, mirth behind his voice. ‘He obliged me greatly by flying in on a carriage earlier this evening. And he wasn’t alone. In one glorious day, I’ve had handed to me on a plate all the mages I require for a final ritual. There’s you, of course, and Laodoc. He is indeed a poor mage, but the excellent standard of the others will cancel out his weakness.’

  She stared at him. ‘Who?’

  ‘You’ll see soon enough.’

  Daphne shook her head. ‘This will be what, your third attempt? Fourth?’

  ‘There have been many more than that, Holdfast,’ he said, ‘especially before I came down and took Guilliam’s form. Arnault failed me often.’

  ‘You’ll fail again.’

  He snorted. ‘Your ignorance is matched only by your stubbornness, Holdfast. A trait you share with your Kell lover. It took a great deal of torture to get from him what I wanted.’

  Daphne kept her face still. ‘I don’t believe you.’

  The Creator took a step closer, and loomed over her. She felt his power surge through her mind, ripping through her me
mories, and raiding her darkest thoughts. She relaxed, leading him to all of the places that Kalayne had taught her how to make, places where she could reveal to the Creator nothing but what she wanted him to see.

  He shook his head.

  ‘Where is Keira?’

  Daphne said nothing.

  ‘By what means can she hide from me?’

  ‘Was that a yes or no about the cigarette?’

  ‘I can inflict great pain upon you.’

  ‘You already have.’

  He stepped back. ‘What does it matter?’ he said. ‘The knowledge and power I received at the last ritual gave me the understanding of what I need to do to ensure success this time. It will be midnight shortly, and the preparations are well underway.’ He put his hand on the door. ‘We will meet again, Holdfast. Soon, and for the final time.’

  He turned to the cell’s entrance and stepped back outside into the corridor. The door closed behind him, and Daphne stared at it, the lamp on the wall continuing to light the cell.

  Laodoc was captured, she thought, along with her and Killop. And others.

  But Keira was still free, and that meant that Karalyn was safe.

  She closed her eyes, clinging on to that hope.

  No sound entered the cell to distract Daphne, and she concentrated on her breathing. Despite her vision being unable to leave the room, she ordered her mind. She could not prevent the Creator from penetrating her thoughts, but she knew that he was as blind to her dream-vision abilities as he was to Karalyn or Kalayne whenever they had hidden from him.

  Her thoughts went to her daughter. She pictured her face, framed by unruly brown curls of hair, her expression wearing that look of concentration she had when she was playing with her toys. Daphne wished she had played with her more, wished she could have a second chance to be a better parent, wished she could see her, and hold her one last time. She caught herself as she was about to spiral into self pity and regret. She wasn’t going to give up, not yet. She went through the words of the Creator, trying to find a weakness.