She sighed as she turned and surveyed the room. She was no enchanter, trained in crafting magical tools, but she was the best they had. Jade and Cat knew a great deal about using tools to enhance their magic, and the dangers inherent in overusing wands and staffs; they simply didn’t know how to put them together. Wands were little more than wooden sticks, but even they had to be carved properly. Emily rather suspected that the wands she’d carved over the last few days simply wouldn’t last very long, no matter how carefully they were charged. The magic powering the spellwork would fade quite quickly.
They’ll give the Levellers a brief advantage, she thought, tiredly. And that will be enough to give the king a nasty surprise.
The iron ring lying on the furthest table looked harmless. She walked towards it, silently testing the obscurification wards. The iron ring might pass unnoticed, if a team of soldiers broke into the room, but she didn’t dare let a sorcerer get a good look at it. She’d rigged up a handful of diabolical surprises for anyone who tried, yet she was all too aware that discharging so much magic in a confined space would have dangerously unpredictable effects. If she hadn’t been so worried about her friends, or if there had been any other option, she wouldn’t have shared the secret with Jade and Cat. The batteries would change the world, when–if–the secret got out. They might even make necromancy practical.
And Lady Barb hated the whole concept, she thought, as she held her hand over the ring. The air felt hot, pregnant with possibility. Magic seemed to be warping the ring into something unearthly. She thought that the necromancers would be able to use their powers without going insane.
There was a knock on the door. Emily tensed, readying a spell. The Levellers swore blind that no one knew they owned the townhouse–it apparently belonged to a merchant who was extremely loyal to the crown–but she knew better than to take that for granted. Jade and Cat had discussed contingency plans with her, just in case. She’d have to grab the ring, set the wards to self-destruct and then teleport out. Better to burn down the building and destroy all her work than let the enemy have a clear look at what she’d been doing. It might give them ideas.
The door opened. She lifted her hand, ready to cast the spell, then sighed in relief as Cat stepped into the room. They hadn’t had as much time together as she would have liked over the last few days, but...she shook her head in annoyance. There were times when she wanted him, in all senses of the word, and times when she just wanted to pretend that their lovemaking had never happened. She hated feeling so conflicted. It would have been easier, she supposed, if he had wanted a long-term relationship.
“Emily.” Cat sounded genuinely concerned. “How are you?”
“Headachy,” Emily said. She had to smile at her own words. It wasn’t even an excuse! “My eyes are about to melt.”
“As long as your brains don’t start leaking out your ears,” Cat told her. He walked around the small collection of tables and inspected the papers on her desk. “Have you had a rest?”
“Not enough of one,” Emily said. In truth, she was going a little stir-crazy. She couldn’t understand how women in restrictive cultures managed to stay sane. She knew she had to say out of sight and work on the equations, but she still wanted to go outside. Being told she had to stay indoors permanently would have been intolerable. “You’ll have to check my work later.”
“I’m not qualified to check half of it,” Cat said. He turned and winked at her. “You do realize I nearly flunked Advanced Charms?”
“I think I would have been happier if you hadn’t told me that,” Emily said. Advanced Charms led directly to Enchantment, Wardcrafting and a dozen other disciplines she wished she’d had a chance to study in more detail. “We really need some more help.”
Cat nodded. “But who do we ask?”
Emily sighed. She didn’t know. Lady Barb and the other teachers wouldn’t get involved, not when they didn’t have a personal stake in the outcome. Aloha was...somewhere with her master, no doubt already midway through a brilliant apprenticeship. And everyone else she knew would come with too much baggage. MageMaster Zed and his staff were bound by the Compact, while Yodel would insist on being able to use what she showed him. He’d change the world...
...And the consequences of that were unimaginable.
“No one I know will be willing or able to help,” she said. “What about you?”
“Likewise,” Cat said. “We really need to recruit a few more magicians.”
“Which will be hard as long as we’re trapped in the city,” Emily said. They could get out at any time, she was sure–the wards wouldn’t be enough to keep them from teleporting out–but Randor would tighten the defenses to make sure they couldn’t get back in again. The female disguise wouldn’t work twice. “We’re on our own.”
She met his eyes, then nodded to the ring. “Are you ready?”
“Barely,” Cat said. He walked over to the battery and looked down. “Do we have to do this?”
Emily nodded. She understood his concern, better–perhaps–than he realized. Draining so much of his magic into the battery was dangerous, even at the best of times. Now, with the ever-present threat of discovery looming over them, he didn’t want to weaken his magic to the point he was helpless. Cat was a good swordsman–brilliant, even–but Randor would happily spend his men like water if it brought his enemies down.
“Fine.” Cat sat down beside the battery and concentrated. “I was always told that two people’s magic could never mingle, not outside a ritual. Were they wrong?”
“There’s nothing in a ritual that changes the magic,” Emily pointed out. She could sense the flow of magic as Cat channelled power into the battery. “All it does is harness power towards a common goal.”
Cat snorted. “They even said that male and female magics were incompatible,” he added, after a moment. His voice was harsh–and tired. “Why did they lie to us?”
“You’re funnelling raw magic into the battery, not powering a spell that can only be cast by one gender,” Emily said. There were a number of spells that were sex-specific, but almost all of them could be easily rewritten to allow the other sex to cast them. She had the feeling they’d been created back before the first magicians had started to put together a unified theory of spellwork. “Your magic and mine are, at base, the same thing.”
“My parents would disagree,” Cat said. He sagged, just for a second, then jerked back. His body flopped back into the chair. “They...they wouldn’t say anything of the sort.”
Emily rested a hand on his shoulder, ready to catch him if he slipped off the chair and fell. It wasn’t easy to channel magic into a battery, not without shaping it into a spell. There was a very real risk of a magician draining himself completely. Jade seemed to be picking it up quicker than Cat, but it was hard to be sure. She’d only taught them the trick a couple of days ago.
“I feel sick,” Cat announced. “Is that normal?”
“It might be normal for you,” Emily said. Cat’s face was very pale. The human body reacted oddly, when it was drained of magic. “Or you might have eaten something that was bad for you.”
Cat sniffed. They’d bought up as much food as they could, sticking it under preservation spells, but by the time they’d realized there was a problem it was already too late to avoid the rush. Randor had slapped price controls on the stores, yet–as Emily had anticipated–it hadn’t been any use. Prices would go up and up, no matter what the king said. She had a feeling that Nightingale and his ilk were already buying food and stockpiling it for resale later, when people were desperate. The poor were already going hungry.
But we can use that, she told herself, as she gently squeezed his shoulder. It’s not going to be easy to keep the population quiet if their children are screaming for food.
She studied him for a long moment, then walked into the kitchen and removed one of the cheese sandwiches she’d made earlier from the preservation spells. It wasn’t much, but Cat needed something to eat. He
could make himself something more elaborate later if he wished. Emily suspected he’d be grateful just to have someone pass him a sandwich. He was in no state to be complaining about the food.
“Thank you,” Cat said, when she gave him the sandwich. He had to struggle to lift it to his mouth and take a bite. “This is good.”
Emily’s lips twitched. “You’re welcome,” she said, dryly. He must have drained himself more than she’d realized. The cheese sandwich was very simple. “How are you feeling now?”
“Tired,” Cat said. “How long until the batteries are full?”
“In theory, they can be charged indefinitely,” Emily said. “In practice, it’s better to have a handful of batteries than place all our eggs in one basket.”
“Good thinking,” Cat told her. He stood as soon as he finished the sandwich, even though his legs were clearly still wobbly. “I need to get back to Jade.”
“Not like that, you don’t,” Emily said, flatly. She understood the urge to get out of the townhouse and just walk around outside, but Cat was in no state for anything. He would be in real trouble if the guards picked him up for drunkenness. “Stay a while...”
“I have to go,” Cat said. His knees buckled. “I...I think I need to sit down.”
Emily rolled her eyes. She was more annoyed than worried. Cat wouldn’t admit weakness unless he was on the verge of total collapse. Jade was just the same, even though the sergeants had told him there was no shame in weakness. Being injured, being ill...no one would think any less of them for admitting it. And no one doubted their bravery.
“Sit down.” She put as much command into her voice as she could. “What’s going on outside?”
Cat sat, without further argument. Emily frowned. That was too quick a surrender. He had to have drained himself worse than he’d thought. Magic wasn’t physical energy–she thought–but it was linked to a person’s body. A weakened magician wouldn’t be able to cast spells or walk. She’d even heard horror stories about magicians who’d drained themselves so completely, their powers never came back.
“We’re setting up more and more cells,” Cat said. His face twitched into something that resembled a smile, if one felt charitable. “Each one has a weak link to the others, enough to take orders but not enough to betray us if they’re broken. And Flower is telling her superiors soothing lies.”
Emily nodded, stiffly. “Is she under close watch?”
“Yeah,” Cat said. “And we made sure she couldn’t betray us.”
“As long as she isn’t asked to find Tam’s exact location,” Emily said. A smart government would allow a handful of cells to continue to operate, just so they could keep tabs on people who were likely to be real trouble. But she didn’t know if Randor had the patience to allow Tam and his friends to remain free. “What happens if they do ask her for information we can’t let them have?”
“Then Flower has a little accident,” Cat said, firmly. “We can’t risk betraying our people just to ensure Flower’s superiors continue to trust her.”
If they ever did, Emily thought. She contemplated the possibilities for a long moment. They might have wondered if Flower was a double-agent right from the start.
She looked down at her hands, wondering why it bothered her. Cat and Jade would have layered all sorts of compulsion spells over Flower, just to make sure that she couldn’t willingly betray them...perhaps that was why it bothered her. Compulsion spells had always bothered her, once she’d realized how easy they were to cast. Or perhaps it was the grim awareness that Flower would never be allowed to live. She’d be executed as soon as she outlived her usefulness. It felt unduly harsh.
And she betrayed Tam and hundreds of others, Emily told herself, sharply. What the hell does she deserve?
Cat smiled at her. It did good things to his face. “We have a plan now, do we not? And allies?”
“Yeah,” Emily agreed. She picked up one of the pieces of paperwork and held it out to him. “And seeing you’re here, you can start checking my work.”
Cat’s smile grew wider. “And there I was thinking of something else we could be doing,” he said. He nodded to the simmering cauldrons. “How long until you have to add the next set of ingredients?”
“Twenty minutes,” Emily said, glancing at the clock. “But I have to tend to each cauldron at five-minute intervals. Fun will have to wait.”
“Groan,” Cat said. He winked at her, then took the paperwork. “Your handwriting is awful.”
“I blame Professor Lombardi,” Emily said. “He kept hitting my hand with a ruler.”
“I don’t blame him,” Cat said. “You do realize that you’re going to have to write all this out again.”
“Of course not,” Emily said. She stuck out her tongue. “You’re going to write it out again.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
JADE HAD HOPED THEY’D BE READY to move–either against Alicia’s mansion or the Tower itself–within a week, but Emily had suspected that was unduly optimistic. Actually having a plan–and allies–had done wonders for Jade’s attitude, yet Cat was insistent that they couldn’t risk moving too early. It was nearly ten days before they had enough of a spy network in place that they felt they could risk trying to sneak into Alicia’s mansion, after she returned from the castle. Lord Burrows, it seemed, was nowhere in evidence. He appeared to spend most of his time in the garrison.
Which probably means he’s ignoring what his wife is doing with the king, Emily thought, feeling a flicker of sympathy for the unfortunate man. Lord Burrows was more interested in men than women, Alassa had told her, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t become a laughingstock if his fellows discovered he was being cuckolded by the king himself. He must be terrified that someone will put two and two together and deduce the truth.
She contemplated the prospects as she and Cat strode down the Royal Mile, Jade following just far enough behind them to give a semblance of privacy without making a mockery of the conventions. The Royal Mile was brightly lit, even as darkness fell over the rest of the city; noblemen, city councillors and wealthy merchants–and their children–mingled freely. She caught sight of a handful of young blades entering a tavern and grimaced, feeling sorry for the management. The young blades, scions of minor noblemen, wouldn’t be punished if they drank the house dry, molested the waitresses and wrecked the tables before they left. It would be a brave or foolish guardsman who’d arrest a nobleman.
And Randor wouldn’t want to make enemies of their parents, she reminded herself. He doesn’t need to alienate more supporters.
She frowned as she heard a pair of broadsheet criers making their way up the streets, shouting about news direct from the king himself. Their papers would be full of lies, she was sure, although it was important to know what the king wanted them to believe. The Levellers had only just started their counter-propaganda campaign, but the king was already promising harsh punishments to anyone caught with one of their pamphlets. Emily couldn’t think of anything more likely to give the pamphlets credence than dire threats to anyone who dared read one.
“There’s more food on the table in there than there is in the entire docklands,” Cat muttered, nodding towards an upscale restaurant. “And the guards make sure that no one gets in and out with the news.”
Emily nodded, tersely. It was amusing to see that the craze for fancy food like pizzas and burgers had yet to abate, even in Alexis, but...Cat was right. The diners were gorging themselves on enough food to feel a dozen families for a week. Randor needed to keep the nobility happy, she knew, but...he should be taking more care of the poor. A few rumors about the rich eating themselves silly while the poor starved should add to the growing social unrest.
Her eyes narrowed as she spotted a pair of soldiers making their way down the street. They were unusually polite, stepping out of the way of older women and nodding politely to young girls instead of pushing the women into the gutter and leering–or worse–at the girls. Emily guessed they were smart enough to
know their superiors would hang them out to dry if someone important filed a complaint. But that wasn’t enough to keep them from demanding a chit from anyone who didn’t look wealthy or powerful or both. The king presumably wanted to keep the commoners out of the Royal Mile.
The streets started to empty as they moved further down the road, towards the small collection of mansions. Each of the barons owned a mansion in the city–Emily wondered, absently, what had happened to hers–and they were, technically, part of the barony. A handful of armed guards in house livery stood outside each of the gates, looking surprisingly unsure of themselves. There was no way they could defend the mansions for long if the king decided he wanted to take them. Emily suspected it was just a matter of time until he did.
“There,” Cat whispered. “Are you sure you can get in without us?”
“I think so,” Emily said, although she wasn’t as sure as she wanted to pretend. She had plenty of experience sneaking into more dangerous places, but getting caught breaking into Alicia’s mansion would be embarrassing. Besides, there was no way she could let them arrest her. “I won’t be long.”
“Just be careful,” Jade warned. His gaze flicked to the mansion. “She’s in there, somewhere.”
Emily followed his gaze and frowned. Winter Flower Mansion was huge, almost obscenely so. It was a blocky mass, strikingly ugly; she couldn’t help wondering just what the architect had been drinking when they’d drawn the original design. Alicia’s father had added a whole set of wings, paying out vast sums of money–and threatening landholders–to make sure he had the largest residence in the city. The walls–enclosing a large garden–only made it worse. Alicia and her husband had to feel a little alone in the giant building, no matter how many servants they’d brought with them. Emily doubted they’d have many servants–or armsmen. The king wouldn’t be happy with anyone bringing a small army into the city after what happened last time.
The walls aren’t the main defenses, she reminded herself, as she reached out with her senses to probe for magic. I have to get through the wards.
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