Magda lifted her hand to show him the ring with the Grace, but she kept it just out of his reach.
“This? Merritt gave it to me.”
He had given it to her when she had come back from beyond the veil. She had traveled the lines of the Grace and returned. She had lived what the Grace represented.
She’d told him that she knew she was safe in his hands, that she knew he would protect her. That was when he had given her the ring. He said he wanted her to have it as a symbol of his protection.
It meant more to her than anything she had ever been given.
It meant everything to her.
“Merritt? Merritt is a traitor and has been arrested as well,” Lothain said out toward the crowd before turning back to Magda. “Why would he give such an important and sacred object to you, to a nobody?”
Magda arched an eyebrow. “A nobody? He gave it to me because I am a protector of the Grace.” She pulled her hand back out of his reach when he grabbed for it again. “Because I am a champion of truth.”
“Champion of truth? You’re a nobody!”
“If I was a nobody you wouldn’t be so eager to see me dead. Just like these people here, you know that I am devoted to the truth. That’s why you want to eliminate me.”
“You are a nobody! Worse than a nobody, you’re a traitor devoted only to murdering our people and you will be executed for your crimes! Now give that to me!”
Lothain charged forward like an angry bull that was being repeatedly taunted. He reached out again, snatching for her hand.
Magda again pulled the hand back, drawing him onward in a rush. Then, in an instant, she reversed her retreat and stepped into his charge.
Magda planted her hand in the center of his barrel chest, becoming a wall against his full weight.
In that instant, he had made the last mistake of his life: he had let her touch him.
Magda knew that it was not necessary for her to invoke the power within her. It was hers, now, always there. She had but to release her restraint of it.
She felt no pressure of his advance against her hand because the world had already stopped in the instant that she made contact. Lothain might as well have been a feather coming at her.
Time was hers.
This was the man who, along with his fellow spies, directed the dream walkers toward the minds they wanted to sneak into and snatch. This was the man, along with his fellow spies, who awakened the dead and sent them out in the night to kill people. This was the man who had sent one of the walking dead to tear Isidore apart.
This was not the prosecutor who protected the people of the Midlands from those doing evil, this was the vicious enemy who plotted against them, who planned their demise, who served evil.
And now he was hers.
The inner violence of her power’s cold, coiled force slipping its bonds was breathtaking. Unleashed, that power exploded through her, surging up from the depths of the dark core deep within, obediently inundating every fiber of her being.
It was a dead silent, pristine instant of the ignition of a fierce new power unleashed into the world for the first time. Nothing would ever be the same—for Lothain, or for Magda.
She contained no hate, no rage, no horror, no sorrow . . . no mercy. In that infinitesimal spark of time, her mind was a void where there was no emotion, only the all-consuming rush of her power through the void of time suspended.
He had no chance, none at all. He was hers.
Time was hers.
Magda could see beads of his sweat suspended in air. She could have counted every dark hair of his stubble before he moved half the width of one of those hairs.
She could see the first hint of terror in his black eyes.
She could see that, while he didn’t yet comprehend how, he was beginning to realize that he had just made the biggest mistake of his life. Even as he wanted to draw back from her touch, there was no chance. He might as well have been carved from stone.
Magda could see the gift in his eyes, too, but it would do him no good. His mind would be gone before he had time to begin to form a thought of how to defend himself.
Like a room of thousands of mute statues, everyone watched, but Magda was focused on this man who had done so much harm, who intended so much more. Behind her, the soldiers were also frozen in place even as they reached for her, but they, too, had no chance to close the distance and make it to her.
Magda was in a silent world of her own.
In that spark of time, her power suddenly became all.
Thunder without sound jolted the air around her.
The violence of it was magnificent, immaculate, glorious.
As the world came crashing back, the heavy concussion raced outward in a ring, knocking the soldiers near her off their feet. People close to the dais screamed as they toppled back from the impact of the power exploding outward in an ever-expanding circle.
When it ended, the people who had been closest were on the floor, rolling around, crying out in pain, clutching their aching joints. Those not quite as close staggered back but were able to stay on their feet and weren’t in as much pain. Those farther back fared better yet, showing little sign of being hurt.
Lothain, showing no signs of pain at all, dropped to his knees before Magda, looking up with new eyes, eyes that revealed only the wish to please her.
“Mistress, command me.”
The two closest soldiers, still struggling to recover from the pain, managed to get to their feet. They both drew weapons as they lurched toward her.
Merritt, having appeared from the shadows not far away, thrust his left arm out, palm up. At the same time as he was launching magic with his left hand, he was drawing his sword with his right. The bolt of power he hurled streaked across the dais, the air wavering in its wake, and slammed into the two men with the force of an avalanche. Both men disintegrated in blackened bits of flesh and bone. As they hit the floor, unrecognizable, gooey, sooty fragments spilled out from their uniforms and across the floor in the direction they had been running. There was nothing recognizable left. The air smelled of burned flesh and hair.
It was a staggering demonstration of power that stopped a few of the men in green tunics in their tracks. Magda had never seen the gift used in such a shocking way. She wasn’t sure if anyone in the room had.
Other soldiers, though, off to the sides and farther away, big men, angry and eager to fight, raced forward to take out the threat that had felled their fellow soldiers. Merritt was already spinning, sword already arcing around. When the blade caught the men, the air exploded with a fog of blood. Bone fragments hit the columns with a sickening sound. Merritt was in a full rage unleashed.
Battle erupted in the council chambers, with men falling to Merritt’s sword or bolts of power as fast as they went after Magda. Merritt didn’t let any of them get remotely close to her. The attempt brought a swift death.
In the calm at the center of the chaos, at Magda’s feet, Lothain put his hands together. “Please, Mistress, command me.”
Magda glanced around at the battle, then back down at Lothain. “Tell your men to stop. Stand up and command them to stop.”
Lothain jumped to his feet. “Stop!” he called out. “All of you who served me, I command you to stop!”
Magda could see men of the Home Guard pouring in the doors at the rear of the room, weapons to hand, as the men in green tunics came to a confused halt on Lothain’s command.
“Tell them to lay down their weapons and surrender to the Home Guard,” Magda told Lothain.
“Soldiers of the prosecutor’s office,” Lothain screamed, “lay down your weapons and surrender!”
Bewildered, many of the men looked around and cautiously began following his orders. Others who didn’t were overpowered by the soldiers of the Home Guard and disarmed. The few who wouldn’t listen and fought on were cut down. Soon, all of Lothain’s private army were either dead or subdued.
The men in green tunics who had been
holding Tilly likewise unbuckled their weapons belts and let them drop to the floor as soldiers with swords drawn closed in. With no one holding her up, Tilly collapsed.
Magda gestured to a young sorceress she knew standing close to the front of the spectators. “Please, Davina, can you help Tilly?”
The sorceress nodded, lifted her skirts, and rushed up onto the dais to see to helping the woman.
Elder Cadell shot to his feet. “What is the meaning of this outrage! Magda, what do you think you’re doing!”
“Sit down,” she said in a deadly cold voice. “Prosecutor Lothain is about to confess so that everyone can know the truth.”
“The truth? What do you think—”
“I said sit down,” she repeated through gritted teeth.
When he saw the look in her eyes, he sank back down into his tall chair.
Chapter 92
“Now,” Magda said to Lothain as a winded Merritt joined her at her side, “I want you to tell everyone here who you are loyal to.”
The crowd, never having seen the likes of such an event and not understanding what was really going on, inched closer. The sea of faces stretched away as far as Magda could see. Everyone tried to crowd in closer in order to hear.
Lothain again fell to his knees, again clasping his hands as he gazed up at her with wide eyes filled with the desperate need to please her.
She had always thought of the prosecutor as a bull of a man, a commanding figure feared for his dogged pursuit of his quarry as well as his intimidating presence. Now, he looked weak and powerless. She supposed that he was. The man that he had been, was no more.
Now, he was a man who suddenly appeared to be in great distress as he hesitated. “I’m not sure what you mean, Mistress.”
Magda frowned as she looked down the length of her white dress at him. “It’s a simple question. Who are you loyal to? Answer the question.”
“To you, Mistress! I am loyal to you and no other!”
Magda shared a look with Merritt.
“That’s not the right answer,” she whispered.
“You have to be more specific,” Merritt whispered back. “He is trying to follow your instructions exactly.”
Magda understood. She looked back down at the concern on the stocky face peering up at her, waiting expectantly.
“No, that’s not what I meant—”
Lothain cried out in anguish at hearing that he had displeased her. He fell to the floor, grasping the hem of her white Confessor’s dress.
“I’m sorry, Mistress!” he sobbed. “Please, forgive me! I’ll tell you whatever you want to hear!”
“I want to hear the truth. I meant that I want to know where your loyalties used to lie before you became loyal to me.”
Relief washed over his creased face at understanding what she wanted, relief that he now knew how to please her. He sat back on his heels.
“I was loyal to Emperor Sulachan, Mistress. I was a spy for him. I did his bidding.”
The crowd gasped. Some of the people were still helping those in pain on the floor as others were pushing around them, trying to get in closer to be able to hear.
“How can that be?” one of the older wizards near the front asked. “How is it possible for our prosecutor to be loyal to Sulachan, and even if it was, why would he admit it to you?”
Magda gestured to Merritt, for the first time really noticing how much blood was all over him. She paused momentarily to take him in, then turned to the watching faces.
“This is Wizard Merritt. He is a maker.”
That sent ripples of whispering back through the crowd. Some people, she knew, thought that makers were a myth. Other people had known that Merritt was gifted, but hadn’t known that he was a maker. A number of the gifted, though, nodded knowingly, some even with pride.
“I want you all to understand what has happened, and why this traitor is confessing. You see, with his gift as a maker, Merritt created an entirely new form of magic never conceived of before.”
Excited whispering swept back through the crowd at the news. Magda waited for the crowd to quiet down. Wanting to hear what she would say next, they quickly did.
“That magic was crafted specifically to get the truth from a person. Touched by this power, anyone will reveal the truth, no matter what the truth may be, no matter how guilty they have been, no matter what evil they have committed.
“Once touched by this power, anyone, no matter how much they may have wished to hide it before, is changed forever and they will reveal the truth.
“This is not the time to go into a detailed explanation of how it works. That doesn’t matter right now. Right now, the important thing for you to understand is that this powerful magic is infallible at what it is designed to do. A person touched by this power confesses the truth about anything they are asked. They cannot lie.”
“What kind of power were you using for this?” a wizard in plain robes standing in the front of the crowd asked. “I’ve never heard of such magic.”
“In part, I used the calculations for a seventh-level breach,” Merritt explained with casual finality.
Eyebrows around the room lifted. Wizards shared grim looks.
Merritt stepped up closer beside Magda. “You’ve seen the terrible weapons that have been created out of people, things such as the dream walkers. This one was created to help us. This power creates a new kind of weapon that serves the cause of truth. That’s what matters.
“Lady Searus volunteered her life to the attempt. It was a perilous journey she undertook for our sake, for the sake of being able to know truth from deception and lies. I guarantee you that none of you can imagine the sacrifice she made to do this, or the personal risks she took for our cause. In the end it worked, and she has been reborn with this new power.”
Merritt held a hand out in introduction. “Please meet Magda Searus, the first Confessor.”
Chapter 93
Magda could hear the word “Confessor” whispered over and over, repeated countless times back through the mass of people watching. Lothain, still on his knees, continued to gaze up at her, patiently awaiting her further instructions.
When Magda signaled, Quinn brought Naja forward. Naja pushed her hood back so that Lothain could see her. Rage reddened her face. Magda could see the dangerous aura of the gift shimmering in her icy blue eyes.
Naja pointed at Lothain. “This is the man who put me in the dungeon. This is the man who tortured me and—”
Quinn grabbed her and pulled her back as she lunged, trying to kick him between his legs. “We need him to be able to talk,” he whispered in Naja’s ear. “Magda needs to get all the truth out of him. Let her do it.”
Naja, her breast heaving in rage, pressed her lips tightly together as she looked into Magda’s eyes. Magda could see that the sorceress was on the edge of unleashing enough violence to reduce Lothain to a smoldering corpse.
“I know,” Magda whispered to her. “I know.”
“I owe you both my life,” Naja said to Magda and Merritt. “Everyone here does. My trust is the least I can offer in return.” At last, she pulled back from the brink and gave Magda a nod to continue.
“Who is she?” Magda asked Lothain as she gestured to Naja. “Tell everyone here who this woman is and what her duties were before coming here to the Keep. Tell us what you know about her.”
Lothain looked out at the crowd watching him and answered without hesitation. “She is a defector from the Old World. She came here to help the cause of the Midlands. She was Emperor Sulachan’s spiritist. She knows about the ways of the wizards in the Old World. She knows how they have been able to use the dead to serve the ends of Emperor Sulachan. She knows how we are able to control the souls of the dead in order to use their corpses to do our bidding. She knows, too, about the half people and how we steal their souls as well.”
Cries of terror broke out as near panic washed back through the people watching. The true dimension of the threat from the Old W
orld was sinking in. Most of these people had never heard of such things.
“And what did you do when she defected and came here to help our cause?” Magda asked him.
“I had her chained in the dungeon and tortured.”
“Why did you put her in the dungeon?” Magda asked.
He leaned in eagerly at the question, happy that he was able to answer her, to be able to please her. “To make sure that she couldn’t help the wizards and sorceresses here at the Keep who work to defend the Midlands and counter the weapons being created in the Old World. We didn’t want her to stop what we were secretly doing with the dead, or with assassinating important people.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Mistress. I meant you harm, too.” He fell to his knees again, clutching at the hem of her white dress. “Please, forgive me!”
“Stop that and look at me.”
He immediately came to attention on his knees.
Magda suddenly went cold with dread.
She had forgotten to take it into consideration.
She looked down at Lothain. “You know about the dream walkers?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Are there dream walkers here, now, secretly hiding in people’s minds, watching us right now?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
She hadn’t considered that. She had been so worried about getting Lothain to confess in front of everyone, so determined to expose his treason, that she hadn’t thought about dream walkers watching along with everyone else.
A man, his eyes wild, his hands clawed, screamed with murderous intent as he ran toward the dais, toward Lothain.
Merritt, grasping what was happening, thrust his hand out just in time, sending a charge of power into the man flying in toward Lothain. The man shuddered when the power hit him and he fell dead at Magda’s feet. He had been one of their own, not a traitor, but a dream walker had turned him into an assassin.
As a couple of soldiers dragged the body away, Magda looked up at the shocked faces. “That was a dream walker taking control of one of our people to try to kill our witness, here.”
The First Confessor (The Legend of Magda Searus) Page 47