“My siblings were my tormenters,” Johan said. “I ... I find it hard to forgive them, even after the family has been shattered.”
He shook his head. It was wrong to hate his younger siblings – Chime was only eleven years old – but the memories kept tormenting him. All of them had developed magic at a very young age, save for Johan himself, and they hadn’t hesitated to use it. Their father had cooed over their success at mastering complex charms and ignored the fact that they’d tended to test those spells on Johan. And Johan knew, even if his father had chosen to forget it, that so much magic used on a single person could have disastrous long-term effects. His father might have quietly hoped, even if he had been unwilling to admit it to himself, that Johan would expire before he should have attended the Peerless School. It would have hidden the fact his family had produced a Powerless.
Picking up the tray, he marched back up the stairs and gave Elaine and Daria some sandwiches, then walked up a second flight, up to the floor put aside for the younger children. The three girls seemed to have gathered in Jolie’s room, having dragged blankets and stuffed toys in from their own room. Johan shivered, remembering hours of torment, then put the tray of food down on the desk. The three girls were so hungry that they didn’t even bother to complain about the food before tucking in.
Jolie looked up at him, between taking bites out of her sandwich. “What are we going to do now?”
“You ... children are going to wait here,” Johan said, firmly. “We will decide what to do and then we will tell you what to do.”
Chime’s hand twitched towards her wand, then stopped. Johan wondered, absently, just what Charity had told the younger children about what had happened to the family. Might she have told them the truth, that Johan had ripped the magic from their father and their elder brother, or had she told them a comforting lie. Jamal would have told them the truth, he was sure, and laughed at their horror, but Charity was made from different stuff.
Turning, he walked out of the room, closing the door behind them, then looked towards his old room. The door had been closed and warded, judging by the rune someone had carved into the wood, but he knew he could open it, if he wished. But there was nothing in the room that he wanted, nothing apart from bad memories. Beyond it, Jamal’s room lay open, as if someone had gone inside and ransacked the place. Curious, Johan stepped up to the door and peered inside. Jamal had always been a bit of a clotheshorse – he’d purchased hundreds of outfits every year – but now half of them were scattered on the floor, while a dozen books on magic lay on the bed. And a mirror that Johan knew had been hanging from the wall lay on the ground, in pieces.
“Someone wanted to leave in a hurry,” Cass said, following him into the room. “The signs are quite obvious, if you know where to look.”
Johan shrugged. Jamal had had to leave the city in a hurry before his enemies caught up with him and took revenge for years of slights, bullying and worse. Charity would probably have lived up to her name and allowed him to take some of his possessions with him .... Johan looked around, trying to decide what Jamal had taken, but couldn’t tell what was missing. A few sets of clothes would have brought in some cash, if he’d sold them to his former cronies ...
“Let the bastard rot,” he said. He picked up the books from the bed – Elaine would want a look at them, if nothing else – and led the way back out of the room. “I don’t want to see him again, ever.”
“You will probably get your wish,” Cass said. The former Inquisitor closed the door behind her, then followed him down the stairs. “I doubt he will show his face again.”
Johan nodded as he stepped into the visiting room and placed the books on the table. Elaine was sitting on the sofa, looking tired and utterly out of place in the room’s splendour. Daria was back in wolf form, curled up on the armchair and snoring loudly. Johan had to struggle to conceal his amusement at the sight, knowing precisely what his father would have said if he’d seen a werewolf sleeping on his chair. There had been no tolerance for mess – or dog hairs – anywhere his guests might have noticed.
“We left you some of the sandwiches,” Elaine said. She met his eyes. “Are you all right?”
“I think so,” Johan said. “Is it my fault that I feel unenthusiastic about helping the little brats?”
“I never had siblings,” Elaine said, “so I won’t pretend to be able to understand what you’re feeling right now. But I do know that they’re kids, unable to fend for themselves ...”
“They should have grown up with the Travellers,” Johan said. “I don’t think they could even make sandwiches for themselves.”
He shook his head. “I assumed they would be at the Peerless School,” he added. “But if they’re here, Charity might come home at any moment.”
“Then we grab her,” Cass said, sitting down in one of the comfortable chairs. “Can you alter the wards enough to catch her when she arrives?”
Johan shook his head. “My power doesn’t work like that,” he said. “I can’t reprogram the wards.”
Elaine cleared her throat, loudly. “Their upbringing certainly lacked ... something,” she said, tartly. “I don’t blame you for wanting nothing to do with them. But do you really want to be the bully now?”
“What would you do,” Johan asked, “if one of your tormentors from the orphanage suddenly fell into your power?”
“I like to think I wouldn’t take revenge,” Elaine said. Her face reddened. “Although I might have accidentally on purpose turned one of my old tormentors into a statue.”
“I heard,” Cass said.
“So what do we do with them?” Johan asked. “I don’t know how to care for them for more than a few days. There wasn’t that much food in the kitchen.”
“So we go buy more,” Cass said, practically. “The kids might be able to do that for us. Or maybe they will come in handy for something.”
Elaine shrugged. “Until then, Johan,” she said, “you and I need to meditate. Is there a private room we can use?”
“No shortage of them,” Johan muttered. He took a swift drink of water, then stepped over to the door. “I can’t guarantee that the wards will let us know when someone arrives.”
“I’ll add a few of my own,” Cass said. “Good luck.”
Johan sighed, then led the way down the corridor and into his father’s outer study. His father had hosted private meetings there, with his most trusted allies. But there were no family secrets within view, nothing that might end up being used against him. The walls were lined with bookshelves, but none of them were anything special. Johan had still been forbidden to read them, back when everyone had thought he was Powerless.
“Not a pleasant room,” Elaine commented.
“My father liked to create an impression,” Johan said. There was something cold and sterile about the study, nothing like the reading rooms in the Great Library. “And he didn’t like wasting time in boring meetings.”
He pushed the chairs to one side, then sat down cross-legged on the floor. Elaine sat facing him, her brown eyes worried. Johan silently marvelled at the skill she’d shown in crafting her glamour; her eyes might not show the right colour, but they showed her emotions perfectly. Charity had never been able to manage anything so creditable.
“I know coming here wasn’t easy for you,” Elaine said, as she took his hand. “And I thank you for the courage you have shown.”
“You’re the one who broke an unbreakable spell,” Johan said, softly. Elaine’s hand felt warm against his bare skin. “All I did was break a few wards.”
“I’m proud of you,” Elaine said.
Johan felt a sudden rush of pride. He would have loved his father to say that, just once, and actually mean it. But his father had seen him as an embarrassment ... he looked up at Elaine and smiled at her, then looked down at the carpeted floor. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he couldn’t find the words.
“Thank you,” he said, finally.
“You�
��re welcome,” Elaine said. “Now, we actually did manage to make a connection in the Imperial Palace.”
Johan nodded. Skin-to-skin, the sense of her presence was much stronger.
“I want to concentrate on trying to open the connection on our own,” Elaine said, as she met his eyes again. “So concentrate, right here and now, on me.”
Johan closed his eyes and tried, hard, to focus his mind. Elaine was right in front of him, her presence seemingly split between the girl before him and her presence at the back of his mind. He took a deep breath, then another, trying to reach out to her. But the awareness of her existence didn’t grow any stronger.
“It’s not working,” he said, frustrated. “Why isn’t it working?”
“I don’t know,” Elaine said. “And that’s what bothers me.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Charity had always hated having to face her father with bad news. Sometimes, he took it gently and merely lectured her on her failings; sometimes, he went through the roof and shouted at her for hours. Facing the Administrator of the Peerless School had been easier, but she had a feeling that facing the Emperor would be much harder. He could order her beheaded on a whim ... or even order her to cut off her own head, if he felt like it. But there was no way she could hide the truth from him.
She stepped into the Throne Room, followed by Vane, and prostrated herself in front of the Golden Throne. The Emperor was talking to two of his military officers, speaking in a language she didn’t understand; he spared her a glance, then ignored her. Charity felt her muscles aching after several minutes in full prostration, but she knew better than to try to stand up. The protocol for facing the Emperor had been firmly drummed into her mind.
Beside her, Vane shifted uncomfortably. She was a scion of the Great Houses, like Charity herself, and she wouldn’t be used to anything other than curtseys. Charity hoped she would have the sense to remain prostrate, no matter how uncomfortable or humiliating it was; the last thing either of them wanted, right now, was to upset the Emperor. Thankfully, Vane stayed quiet until the Emperor dismissed his officials and turned his attention to the newcomers.
“Rise,” he ordered. “What news do you bring?”
Charity swallowed, nervously. “The Great Library has been largely opened, Your Majesty,” she said, carefully. “But the fugitives are gone.”
“They made their escape,” the Emperor said. “And do you know where they have gone?”
“No, Your Majesty,” Charity said.
“Of course not,” the Emperor said. “But you do have control of the Great Library?”
“We do not have control of the wards,” Vane said, too quickly for Charity to try to stop her. “I cannot take full control without the Head Librarian.”
The Emperor glowered down at her. “But you can get into the library?”
“I can get into the public levels, yes,” Vane said. “But I can’t open the Black Vault.”
Charity shivered as the Emperor’s eyes blazed with a sudden fury. His face shifted so rapidly that, for a moment, she thought she saw someone else looking out through his eyes. And then his face returned to normal, his dark eyes boring into her very soul. For once, he wasn’t smiling or smirking at her.
“You can’t open the Black Vault,” he said. He turned his gaze to Vane, who froze like a thief caught in a capture ward. “Why not?”
“The wards are still sealed, Your Majesty,” Vane stammered. “I ... the Black Vault is a pocket dimension, wrapped within the protective wards. It can’t be opened without the Head Librarian’s presence. She didn’t have time to pass the wards to me before she ... ah, was taken from the library.”
Charity felt a flicker of amusement, which she rapidly suppressed. If the Head Librarian’s arrest had been delayed, even by as a little as ten minutes, the wards would have been passed to her successor and there would have been no hope of escape. Instead, the arrest had – perversely – allowed the Head Librarian to not only escape, but impede the Emperor’s long-term plans. It would take years, she’d been told, for the wardcrafters to break through the protective wards without accidentally destroying everything in the vault. No one had ever managed to steal from the Black Vault.
“Then we must find her,” the Emperor snarled.
“If I may,” Vane said, “the Grand Sorceress might also be able to open the ...”
Her words trailed off as the Emperor glowered down at her. “The Grand Sorceress is no longer available,” he hissed. “And you will be punished for your failure.”
Vane stared at him. “But I ...”
“Silence,” the Emperor said. He must have sent a command through the wards, for a pair of guards stepped through one of the side doors without warning. “You will be taken to the kitchens, where you will spend the next few hours washing up. Manually.”
He snickered at the horrified expression on Vane’s face. Scions of Great Houses did not do anything as menial as washing up. There were servants – or spells – to do it for them. It wasn’t a bad punishment, not compared to some of the rumours Charity had heard while she’d been a student, but it would be humiliating. Charity just hoped she had the sense to keep her mouth shut and do as she was told. The punishment could easily be a great deal worse.
The guards caught Vane’s arms and escorted her out the door, which closed behind them with a solid thud. Charity half-wished she was going with them too; it would have been humiliating to have to work with the servants, but at least she would have been away from the Emperor. The moment when she thought she’d seen someone else behind his eyes ...
“You are surprised, of course,” the Emperor said.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Charity said. There was no point in trying to deny it. “She was not to blame for the failure.”
“The punishment was quite mild,” the Emperor said. “Or do you think it should have been worse?”
“No, Your Majesty,” Charity said.
She grimaced at the thought. She’d heard students – mainly boys – claiming that their parents had punished them in all kinds of ways, but most of them had to be exaggerated. There was no way anyone would survive some of the punishments, even with magical healing. And yet ... she went cold when she remembered just how much her father had allowed her siblings to torment Johan. Perhaps the students hadn’t been exaggerating after all.
“So,” the Emperor said. “Where do you think they’re hiding?”
Charity considered it. She’d never actually had to hide herself, not outside playing hide and seek at the Peerless School. The thought of being on the run, cut off from friends and family, was more than a little disquieting. But if she had to hide ...
“Somewhere she wouldn’t be recognised,” she said, finally. “I think she’d go to the poorest parts of the city.”
The Emperor smiled at her. “And why do you think that?”
“The Head Librarian is known to the Great Houses and the rest of the magical community,” Charity said. “If she tried to hide among them, they would know it – and one of them might betray her to you. She has few friends and fewer allies among the aristocracy. But in the slums, she could pass for a native.”
“Risky,” the Emperor observed. “A young girl, all alone, in a world where anything can happen to young women. But is she really alone?”
“I don’t know, Your Majesty,” Charity said.
“Someone broke into the Imperial Palace,” the Emperor reminded her, sarcastically. “But who? Who might still be alive ... and willing to help her? And who could do such strange tricks to my wards?”
“You think my brother is still alive,” Charity said, flatly.
“I believe it should be considered,” the Emperor said. There was a long pause as he stroked his beard, meditatively. “Who else could produce such strange magical tricks?”
He smirked. “And to track one’s prey,” he added, “one must know it. The Hexane Beast can never go too far from water, so a skilled hunter would know to set an ambush th
ere. Where would your brother go?”
“Away,” Charity said. “He would be trying to get out of the city.”
“We have the tunnels heavily guarded,” the Emperor said. “Where else might he go?”
Charity shook her head. She knew Johan had tried to explore parts of the city, but he’d never spent a night somewhere – anywhere – outside the house. He could have found a hostel, if he’d gone looking or perhaps a ticket to leave the city, if their father’s magic had eventually started to drag him back. It was quite possible that Johan wouldn’t know where to go, now he was on the run. But if he wasn’t alone, someone else might know where to go.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “We didn’t really talk.”
“How frustrating it must have been for your father,” the Emperor sneered. “To have the prospect of such power in his family and then lose it, because of his own cruelty and shame.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Charity said.
“And what,” the Emperor asked, “might your brother want?”
“Freedom,” Charity said, simply. “I don’t think he wanted anything else.”
The Emperor looked disappointed. “Nothing else? Wine? Women? Song?”
Charity felt her face heat. “I think he was interested in a girl,” she said, “but my father managed to ruin it. He wanted to arrange their marriage, but the girl broke it off with him instead. Apart from that ...”
She shrugged. Johan, unlike Jamal, had never played any games with the female servants, let alone lured them into his bed. Unless he’d had a relationship that had remained well hidden ... no, it wasn’t too likely. Johan had been under their father’s supervision; he wouldn’t have tolerated anything that might bring the house into further disrepute. And besides, the maids hadn’t been as respectful of Johan as they’d been of his elder brother. They might not have let him touch their breasts, let alone open their legs for him.
“No vices,” the Emperor mused. “What a pure young man.”
“I don’t think he ever had the chance to develop any,” Charity said.
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