Stealing Sorcery

by Andrew Rowe

  “But you don’t think that’s plausible.”

  “I think it’s within the dominion of possibility, but Vorianna has at least ice and water sorcery at her disposal. Both are excellent disciplines for battlefield control. While she may have been too strained to use the latter due to her efforts to make the antidotes earlier in the day, ice sorcery alone may have been sufficient.”

  “She may have simply been focused on using it defensively. We don’t know the exact capabilities of who she was fighting.”

  Aladir nodded, acknowledging the point. “True – and I intend to ask her. But I have a few more things you should know before we go to speak to her.”

  Lydia adjusted her glasses. “I’d be glad to hear them.”

  “When I went to the Dianis manor, several members of the household were awake, in spite of it being the middle of the night. Torian, Liarra’s father, insisted on accompanying us to House Theas. I do not blame him for requesting to escort us, of course – I wouldn’t let my own daughter wander out with an unmarried man in the middle of the night, paladin or not. He was right to do so. But the atmosphere at the house was full of tension, as if everyone had taken a deep breath and failed to let it free.”

  “The atmosphere of tension could have been your own perception - after all, you had just come from a battlefield yourself.

  “True. And some sorcerers keep late hours – you among them.”

  Lydia leaned her chin against a hand. “You know, you could use an example other than me when you’re talking about murder suspects.”

  Aladir rolled his eyes. “I could if I wanted to, true. Now, Torian and Liarra both came in to help me – but they insisted we had to retrieve Vorianna to undo her ice spell before they could work. I found that part a little suspicious, too, but plausible; it’s true that nature and ice sorcery don’t mix well. When Vorianna arrived, they didn’t show any hints of recognizing her. None. But you confirmed that she’s Liarra’s sister, correct?”

  Lydia nodded, turning her head away. “I’m fairly confident of that, at least. Jonan has been working with this ‘Vorianna’ for several months. She went by ‘Vorain’ in Orlyn, and her real names is Rialla Dianis.”

  Aladir pressed his hand to his forehead. “Vorain. Of course. How did I miss a name that obvious?”

  “It’s only obvious if you already know she’s Vorian, really. The Vorinthal family is famous, and Anna is a common human name. Combining the two makes for a plausible name.” She paused for a moment, considering. “I would have expected her family to recognize her, but she’s been in Orlyn for years, and there are rumors her eye color changed somehow. Given that she was involved in Edon’s experiments on dominion bonds, it’s possible her bond was altered somehow – which would explain her looking at least somewhat different.”

  “I suppose several years apart and a change in eye color might be sufficient, but even then…”

  “It does seem strange that they gave no reaction at all, unless they already expected her to be there.”

  “Exactly. Finally – and the worst part of this – is that Baroness Nedelya Theas died just this morning, long after the assassins fled. She fell from the tower overlooking the manor. She was dead upon impact – there was nothing I could do. There were no signs of forced entry in her room, nor any signs of a struggle.”

  “I’d like to see that myself. Not that I doubt your capabilities, of course, but you’re not a knowledge sorcerer.”

  “Oh, I quite agree – you should inspect the scene yourself. But I did search it well – and I did find something. Something I haven’t told anyone else about yet.”

  He opened a pouch on his belt, removing an envelope with a broken wax seal. He handed the envelope to Lydia.

  Lydia retrieved the letter from inside the envelope.

  My darling husband,

  Do not mourn me. I am doing what I must do in order to protect what remains of our family. Am I taking the coward’s path, to avoid facing you? No. I wish that I had the time left to see you one last time, but that is not to be. Sometimes fate forces our hand – and for that, I am sorry.

  I will always love you.

  -Nedelya

  Lydia pondered the contents of the note, carefully folding it and returning to the envelope. “The structure of the main body of the text is unusual. Disjointed.”

  “Yes, precisely.” Aladir placed the note back in his pouch. “I considered showing it to Nakane, but she is in a tender state, and I do not believe she is ready to see it yet.”

  “The writer – if it was Nedelya – claims to be doing ‘this’, presumably killing herself, to protect her family. Can you think of any reason why ending her own life would do that?”

  “Perhaps she was being extorted somehow. If this was some sort of vendetta against the family, perhaps a certain number of lives were demanded in recompense for a past event? In any case, it’s obvious the baroness knows something we do not.”

  Knew, not “knows”. She’s dead. She doesn’t know anything – it should be in the past tense.

  Lydia barely restrained the urge to correct Aladir’s grammar – she knew it wasn’t the right time.

  “All right, I can see why you’re suspecting Vorianna, given the timing and her behavior during the assault. Did she have an opportunity to confront the baroness at some point between the assault and Nedelya’s death?”

  “That’s my biggest problem – I don’t know. The baroness had guards on her doors at all times, but she might have had a way around that.”

  Lydia frowned. Deception sorcery could be used to convince someone to open a door, but the guard would have remembered…wait, we’re overthinking this. “Rialla didn’t necessarily even need to meet with the baroness last night, if she had threatened Nedelya at some point before. The attack could have simply been a reminder of a previous threat.”

  Aladir nodded, and then yawned loudly. “Sorry, haven’t been able to shake this exhaustion.”

  “You should eat something, especially since you just healed someone. You’re always terrible about that.”

  He nodded sheepishly. “I will. But you needed to know about this first – and we should probably confront Vorianna before doing anything else. Given the situation, it would be easy for her to slip away.”

  “We should talk to her, but there’s something else you need to know before I get distracted – I think there could be another target.”

  Aladir tilted his head to the side. “Another target? Why?”

  “Hartigan told me about another member of House Theas – a cousin named Larkin. He changed his name to Landen.”

  The Rethri paladin narrowed his eyes. “Your paladin candidate friend?”

  “Yeah, that’d be him. I plan to go warn him as soon as I’m done here – he should probably be taken out of the paladin examinations until the assassins are found. The exams are a very convenient time for a would-be killer to strike.”

  “Agreed. It would be easy to make a fatality look like a tragic accident.” Aladir folded his arms. “But wouldn’t he make another likely suspect as well?”

  “Yes, but he’s never shown any interest in his family, and Hartigan said he didn’t think Larkin had any reason to want to hurt them.”

  “Hartigan? You actually managed to speak to him? I’m…a little jealous right now.” He gave a weak smile. “He’s one of my heroes, you know.”

  “I know, you never shut up about it.”

  “Kind of like you and Tarren.”

  “We all have our heroes. Anyway, I’ll tell you more about it on the way – I think it’s time to find Vorianna and have a little chat.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  ***

  Aladir led the way through the remainder of the gardens to the entrance to the House Theas manor. Maer stood vigil at the side door wearing a somber expression. He nodded absently as the pair approached.

  I suppose I should probably say something about what happened.

  “My
apologies for being absent over the last few days, Maer. I heard you were instrumental in the defense of the manor.”

  The guard shrugged. “Wasn’t enough.”

  “I won’t press the issue, but you should be proud that the assassins were repelled, regardless of the aftermath.” After a pause with no reply, she added, “I would like to pay my respects to the lady of the house. Is she present?”

  Maer shook his head. “She’s here, but she’s cloistered herself in her room. Her way of mourning, I ‘spose. Nakane has always been a private one. Might suggest you visit your friend, though. He had a rough night.”

  Lydia reached up and absently corrected her glasses. “Is he awake?”

  “Not sure, but I’ll wager he’d want the visit regardless.”

  Aladir glanced at her. “I don’t know if waking him is wise, but we can check in, at least.”

  Lydia nodded. “Thank you, Maer. May we go in?”

  “Of course.” The guard opened the door, gesturing for them to proceed inside. “Hope you found something in your search. We need to nail the bastards that did this.”

  “Might have made some progress, but it’s too soon to say.” She stepped inside, glancing back as she walked. “But I’ll make sure you know when it’s time to make a move.”

  “Appreciate that.” Maer flexed his hands in the air. “Appreciate it very much.”

  “Come, he’s this way.” Aladir gestured and she swiftly followed.

  Jonan’s room was on the second floor, and they passed a pair of other guards on the way. They wore similar expressions of defeat. Aladir knocked on the door of the chamber when they arrived.

  There was a brief pause before Lydia heard a familiar voice in reply. “Mm, what time is it?”

  Aladir took that as his cue to open the door.

  Jonan had pushed himself into a half-seated position in his bed. He was shirtless, his entire left arm wrapped in bandages. The section near his upper arm showed a hint of dried blood. His hair was disheveled, his forehead damp. A cloth – presumably one that had been on his forehead moments before – was sitting on his lap. His expression was a mixture of pain and confusion.

  Lydia stepped closer immediately, finding Jonan’s glasses case on a table next to his bedside and opening it. She found the thickest pair and offered them. His first attempt to grab the pair missed entirely, but on the second grasp he managed to seize them and put them on. Afterward, Lydia sat in the chair next to his bed.

  “Oh, hello Lydia-shaped blur. You’re at least fifty percent more visible now, thank you.”

  “As always, I live to serve.” She gave him a wry grin, trying not to betray her concern. His skin was damp with sweat and his breath smelled of sickness.

  Aladir moved to the bedside, reaching underneath the bed to retrieve a medical kit. “Let me replace those bandages.” There was a hint of disapproval in his tone. Lydia read that to mean that Aladir had asked someone else to rotate the bandages, but whoever he had asked had failed to do so.

  “That sounds nice.” Jonan gave her a perplexed expression. “My eyes are bad right now, and my brain is blurry, too. Am I drunk? I don’t remember getting drunk – which must mean I’m extremely drunk.”

  “We gave you something for the pain,” Aladir explained. “The effect should fade in a few more hours, but you’re probably going to want more of it. Life sorcery makes injuries feel worse before they feel better.”

  Jonan frowned. “It’s going to feel worse? That’s lovely, I already feel like a cat is continuously gnawing on my nerves. A very large cat. It is also hungry, and somewhat cunning.”

  “I heard you were very brave last night, Jonan. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you.”

  Jonan waved his right arm dismissively, while offering his left to Aladir. The life sorcerer began to unwrap the bandages on Jonan’s arm. “S’alright, Lyd. Can I call you Lyd? You should say no – that’s a terrible nickname.”

  She smiled, a little more genuinely this time. “You can come up with a better nickname when you’re feeling better.”

  “Quite all right. Anyway, better that you weren’t here. I mean, yes, you would have been helpful, of course, but I wouldn’t want you to be hurt. Not that you’re weak, or whatnot. Better fighter than I am, of course. You exceed that terribly low standard quite admirably. But there are always risks, and I’d rather you avoid them.”

  Aladir gave her a quizzical look – asking if Jonan was flirting with her, perhaps – and then went back to his ministrations.

  “That’s sweet of you. Are you feeling better now that you’ve slept a bit?”

  He nodded, blinking rapidly after doing so. “Somewhat, yes, I think. How are you?”

  “I’m quite all right. I went and visited Hartigan – I’ll tell you more about that when you’re feeling better. Suffice to say he’s probably not the one responsible for all this.”

  “Didn’t think so. Also, those people last night were Rethri. The ones I saw, at least. Hartigan’s smart enough to employ Rethri as a deflection, of course, but it doesn’t seem like his style. More of the type to just walk up and incinerate the whole house himself, from what I’ve heard.”

  “That does sound consistent with my experience, yes. I did hear, however, that there might be another potential target – do you recall my friend Landen from Orlyn?”

  The bandages had been fully removed. The injuries on the surface of the arm seemed superficial – she recognized the characteristic half-healed entry and exit points that had been treated with sorcery. Faint hints of blood lingered at both wounds, and the surface around each point was swollen and reddened, potentially an indication of infection. From Aladir’s grimace, she suspected that was the case.

  Aladir began applying an ointment from his medical kit and rewrapping the wound. His expression had shifted into one of patient concentration.

  “Oh, Landen, yeah. Only met him a few times. We tricked him pretty good with that arena stunt, yeah? Holy swords coming out of the sky. That was brilliant.”

  Lydia smiled at the memory, moving her hand to her cheek. “Well, it would appear that Landen is actually a member of House Theas, which makes him both a potential suspect and a potential target. The former is unlikely, given Hartigan’s assessment of Landen’s character and my own experiences with him.”

  “Okay. Not really keeping up with all this completely. Mind is fuzzy. But if you’ve got another target, keep a good eye on him, yeah? I’d offer you mine, but I don’t have any at the moment.”

  “Right. I’m headed there after I deal with a few things here.” She frowned, realizing that Jonan might not have been apprised of the current situation. “Did you already hear about Nedelya?”

  Jonan turned his head to the side. “What about her?”

  Oh, shit.

  “She appears to have taken her own life.”

  The scribe turned his gaze downward. The three were silent for several moments.

  “Well, fuck.” Jonan balled his hand into a fist. “Fuck everything.”

  “I’m sorry. You did the best you could – the assassins didn’t seem to be the ones who got her, so far as I can tell.”

  “Though they –” Aladir began, but she gave him a warning look and he paused.

  “They all escaped,” Lydia cut in. Jonan doesn’t need to know about the note – not yet. He’s clearly not in any state of mind to process it.

  “All of them?” Jonan’s sat up a little straighter, focusing his gaze on Lydia. “That sounds wrong. Implausible.”

  “We were thinking that as well.” Lydia folded her hands in her lap. “I don’t want to worry you overly much, but how well do you know Vorianna?”

  Jonan’s lips tightened for a moment, and then he burst out into laughter. “Vorianna? You think she’s – no, no, that wouldn’t work. It couldn’t…”

  He raised his right hand, covering his eyes, and then sighed deeply. “I admit I may have been somewhat hasty in bringing a disguised and horrendously dange
rous sorceress into this household. Why do you think Vorianna is involved?”

  Aladir finished bandaging Jonan’s arm and leaned up against the nearby wall. “We’re not sure, but she went back out to fight after you were incapacitated, and all the Rethri mysteriously escaped. She’s an ice sorceress – it seems like she should have been able to capture at least one person, unless she was injured or killed. Which she wasn’t.”

  “There’s another explanation to that, although you still probably won’t like it, and it proves nothing.” Jonan lay back down in the bed, groaning.

  “What have you found?” Lydia shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

  “Well, you probably know this, I think I told you – but her real name is Rialla Dianis.”

  “We know about that, and that she probably persuaded you to ask me to retrieve her sister.”

  “Gods, I’m not very good at subtlety at all when I’m like this, am I?” The sight sorcerer rubbed at his eyes.

  “You were never very good at subtlety, Jonan.” Lydia chuckled and patted his hand affectionately, but he looked a little hurt in spite of her attempt at humor.

  “I’ll be direct, then. She won’t want me to mention this, but she implied that her sister may have been involved in making the poison that I’ve been afflicted with. I don’t know why she suspected that, but if I had to guess, I’d say she recognized some of those Rethri.”

  “And let them go deliberately?” Lydia inquired.

  “And didn’t put much effort into the chase. But that doesn’t mean she was involved. I think she didn’t want to be recognized by them. She’s been obsessed with avoiding her father’s attention since she came into town.”

  Aladir frowned at that. “But he didn’t even seem to recognize her when she arrived. And neither did Liarra.”

  “My work. Threw a sight spell on her as soon as she walked into the room, making her look subtly different. I excluded you from the spell’s effect, so you wouldn’t have seen the change.”