Chapter Twenty-One
The room we were in was almost completely grey. Bas reliefs depicting ornate patterns, flowers and people were carved into the stone walls and the hanging tapestries which were probably once quite cheerful had dulled and tattered with age. A short flight of steps were carved into the floor, leading up to a throne.
I scanned the crowd of people assembled on the podium in front of me and my skin prickled with unease. The others had told me that Baeroth and his followers were sealed inside a pocket dimension, but the practicalities of the situation had never really crossed my mind until now. The sickly pale light drifting through the high windows wasn’t sunlight. Of course it wasn’t. The dimension was only as large as Thornsvale Castle: there was no sun here.
The men and women were of all ages and sizes, but nine years of a weird arcane light shining on them had turned their skins the purple-black colour of a fresh bruise and their hair snowy white. Their skin wasn’t right, either. Cracking and blistering seemed a fairly common ailment and even from a distance I could see plenty of open sores.
If they hadn’t been a bunch of genocidal baby-stealers I might have felt quite sorry for them.
In the middle of the crowd, perched on his throne like a crow on a tree stump, was Baeroth. He frowned slightly, his eyes slanting from side to side - the only sign he gave that he was surprised by our sudden appearance - while Kallista and I stood shivering in our drenched clothes. No one seemed to quite know what to say.
Baeroth’s eyes came to rest on me…and stayed there. I had no experience of being stalked, but this was how I would have expected a stalker to stare at his victim, all creepy and weird, hidden in the bushes outside their house. It was like he was trying to bore his way inside my soul, and I remembered what Oriel had told me about him being able to reach inside your mind and make you do whatever he wanted.
Adrenaline coursed through me. I wanted to run and hide, but I forced myself to stand still and return his gaze. If I’d been a superhero, I would probably have mouthed off a humorous pun at this point. ‘Just thought I’d drop in’. Something like that. Instead, my vocal chords had constricted to nothingness, making anything above a quiet whimper impossible.
‘Take the mongrel away,’ Baeroth said after a minute, still not taking his eyes away from me. He spoke quietly and his voice sounded dry and papery.
I braced myself to be manhandled and was surprised a moment later when Kallista shrieked. I jumped round to see her being dragged away by two of the mottled guards, the soles of her wet boots slipping against the flagstones. I started to sprint after her with no plan in mind other than to wrestle her away from her captors.
‘Stop,’ Baeroth said and I jerked to a halt mid-stride as if I’d hit an invisible wall and watched helplessly as Kallista disappeared through a darkened doorway. ‘Turn around.’ My body twisted, utterly beyond my control, until I was facing him.
‘Roanne Harper,’ Baeroth said with the same degree of interest that an entomologist might say the name of a rare and colourful variety of beetle.
‘How do you know my name?’ I blurted.
Baeroth laughed, and after a beat his minions joined in. ‘Believe me when I tell you, Roanne Harper, that I know all about you. And I’ve been waiting to meet you for a very long time.’ He spoke in an odd, flamboyantly croaky voice, like a theatre luvvie with a bad cold.
My stomach twisted uneasily. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to know who I was. He’d been locked here for nine years; the Protectorate had only known about me for three.
He shifted in his seat, sending a ripple of movement amongst his followers and sat forwards with his elbows on his knees, peering at me. ‘I see you’ve not taken the green,’ he said speculatively.
Unwilling to appear at a loss, I said nothing.
‘You are not with the Protectorate.’ He spelled out each syllable as if the very word pained him. ‘They have not yet claimed you for their own.’ The glamour on my clothes had worn off as we were fleeing through the back alleys of Thornsvale and I was back in breeches and a tunic. Baeroth eyed my soggy clothes up and down disdainfully. ‘Unless they have drastically lowered their sartorial standards.’ He laughed at his own joke and his minions joined in.
I wondered where he was going with this. I wanted to push the wet hair out of my eyes, but my clenched fists stayed resolutely by my sides.
He waited until he had everyone’s full attention again before continuing. ‘But to get back to the matter at hand, I do know an awful lot about you, Roanne Harper. I know all about your home in the Sanctuary-’ he said Sanctuary in the same way that you’d say Rubbish Dump ‘-and I know that you mistakenly believe you belong there. I know about your foster family-’ he broke off to give a small laugh ‘-I know all about your family, including your charming sister...
‘But mostly I know about your remarkable talents and I know how very little control you have over them. I know you haven’t signed your life away to the Protectorate yet - don’t look so surprised, I have my sources, even in the pit of despair I find myself trapped in.’
Baeroth sprang up from his seat and started pacing along the podium, causing confusion amongst his lackeys. ‘I know that my treasured niece and nephew have spent their time filling your head with stories about me, how evil I am, how calculating. Bad Uncle Baeroth. Naughty Uncle Baeroth. And yet, despite their nasty little bedtime stories, and despite the fact that they are desperate for your allegiance, I know you haven’t signed to the Protectorate. It’s all terribly interesting. Well, little Psion,’ he said, his mouth curving upwards in a grim imitation of a smile. ‘I’m going to offer you an alternative career path.’
I chanced a quick look around the room. There were two exits - the one Kallista had been hauled through to the right of Baeroth’s podium and one behind me that I’d seen when we fell through the portal. Maybe if I managed to find Kallista…
I ran my eye along Baeroth’s team of lackeys, sizing them up, wondering if I could outrun them. Most of Baeroth’s court kept their eyes on their master. All except for one. At the far end of one line stood a man, or a boy maybe - his skin condition made it hard to gauge his age - staring intently at me with a curious half-smile, like I was about to deliver the long-anticipated answer to a question.
He was still watching me when I glanced away and when I looked back he gave me a slow wink.
‘I’m all ears,’ I said.
Baeroth studied me carefully for signs of sarcasm. Seeing none - maybe I hadn’t been doing it right - he went on. ‘For some time now I have been working on a project. A very special project. In return for your willing assistance, I will train you to use your talents to the full.’
‘Thanks, but I’ve already got some training lined up.’ I felt around with my mind, trying to locate that prickling that told me I was using my Blessings. Negative emotions seemed to be a trigger and, god knew, right then I was stuffed with negative emotions. But there was nothing.
Baeroth sighed theatrically, as if he’d expected this. ‘Yes, I imagine the Protectorate have dredged up some poor clairvoyant who isn’t too insane. Or maybe they’ve pulled out all the stops and recruited an Influencer for you?’ He noted my reaction. ‘An Influencer, then? Goodness me, they must be keen for you to stay. Nevertheless, even the most proficient Influencer could only show you a fraction of what I can. They will seek to bind you, to control you, to prevent you from becoming all that you are able to be. They will try to harness your gifts, like a broken horse, all shackles and fetters. Whereas I… I will show you how to free your abilities, make them more than they already are.
‘And, of course, with the sort of power you would have, there would be nothing to stop you leading exactly the sort of life you wanted. The Jeopardy, the Sanctuary, either could be your home. You could be a state official enjoying banquets in your honour every night; a master of industry; a great mage; an academic.’ He glanced down at his hand, as if inspecting his fingernail
s. ‘Or you could live a quiet life, close to your family and friends, with no one remembering that you were ever anything other than completely normal.’
My eyes shot up and I cursed myself for giving my thoughts away too easily. Baeroth smirked. ‘What do think of my offer?’
I didn’t have to know the specifics of Baeroth’s ‘special project’ to know that I wanted nothing to do with it. In my limited experience, if someone uses italics or quote marks or euphemisms when trying to sell you something, then you should probably steer well clear. ‘I think you can bugger off. That’s what I think,’ I answered hotly.
He tilted his head to one side. His movements were jerky, a bit like a bird. A very sinister bird.
‘I offer you everything you want, and yet you refuse me. Why is this?’ he mused. His words made a small ball of fear in the pit of my stomach. He didn’t sound frustrated at my refusal, just curious and I had a horrible feeling that this meant he had ways of forcing my co-operation. ‘Come here.’
I tried to stand my ground, I ached with the effort of standing still, but nevertheless my legs moved of their own accord towards Baeroth’s throne. When I reached it, my body jerked to a halt, as if someone had slammed on the brakes too hard.
Baeroth jumped down from the podium - he was remarkably spry, and taller than I’d previously thought - and a handful of minions fluttered after him.
At this proximity, I could smell the decay coming off him in waves. He smelled faintly like a demon and I didn’t bother to disguise the disgust on my face. But somehow worse than any of this were his eyes. He had Oriel’s eyes.
‘Convention suggests that in this situation I should lock you in a tower and threaten and bargain and plead with you until you finally see sense and do my bidding, but I am not a patient man, my dear, and this is a day I have been looking forward to for far too long to delay any further. This is your last chance to co-operate with me.’ White eyebrows scored his mottled forehead; he raised them at me gently, awaiting my answer.
Holding his gaze, I yanked my knee up, grabbing my stiletto blade from my boot and bringing it up in one fluid movement to his chest.
Without even looking away, he grabbed my wrist, crushing the bones together like a vice until I shrieked with pain and the knife fell from my hand, clattering to the floor. ‘Stupid child,’ he hissed in my ear. Still holding my arm he lashed out in a fast, graceful circle with his foot, sweeping my legs out from under me. I landed flat on my back, winded beyond breathing, staring up at the high vaulted roof.
Baeroth glanced casually at my gasping form before lifting his boot and bringing it swiftly down on my wrist.
There was a dull crunch and then a second’s grace before the pain ripped through me, thundering like a train, obliterating everything. I rolled to one side, desperately trying to protect myself. ‘Don’t try anything like that again,’ Baeroth said from a long way away.
Arms grabbed me from all sides. They pinned down my legs and peeled my shattered arm away from my chest, pulling it out straight. I screamed through gritted teeth as the edges of my vision blackened.
Baeroth stalked across the room and picked up my stiletto. He turned it this way and that, studying it. ‘This was my mother’s knife,’ he murmured. He glared at me. ‘Where did you get it from?’
My mouth was clamped tightly shut to stop myself screaming out in pain. Baeroth knelt down, peering at me intently as cold sweat trickled down the side of my face. ‘If you knew how to control your Blessings, this could all stop, right now. You could send us all away. You could make every nerve in our bodies feel as though they were being shredded, inflict a pain so intense we would pray for death. But instead you are struggling on the floor, trying to make yourself invisible. This is your last chance. Co-operate with me and I will teach you anything you want. Defy me and face the consequences.’
I pulled my head back as far as I could against the flagstones and spat at him.
Baeroth didn’t flinch, just passed his sleeve across his cheekbone. ‘Very well.’
He reached out slowly, brushing my temples with his fingertips in a really gross parody of a caress. ‘It’s all right,’ he murmured. ‘You do not have to pretend to be strong any more. I can feel your fear. Give in to it. And in the meantime, I shall take a little look around.’
He grasped the sides of my head with both hands and looked into my eyes. My eyelids froze open and gradually any remaining control I possessed slipped away.
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