“I suppose not,” the Emperor said.
He stood and started to pace the room. “There will be a grand search of the entire city, starting with the poorer regions,” he said. “Every rock will be lifted and inspected for the missing fugitives. Wherever they are trying to hide, young lady, we will find them.”
Charity frowned. The poorer regions had no political power to object to a total search, but it would still cause massive disruption. And it would require thousands of soldiers to be put on the streets, ready to catch and identify anyone trying to leave the area. It would be an absolute nightmare, particularly with the city already flooded with visitors for the Conference.
“It will be difficult,” she said.
“The rats will have gone to ground,” the Emperor said. “I want to flush them out.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Charity said. There was no point in arguing with him when she’d just wind up being ordered to carry out the search anyway. “But it could take some time to organise.”
“You will remain here until the search begins,” the Emperor said.
Charity bit down on her anger and fear. Her younger siblings were at the house, probably scared out of their minds. But she didn’t dare protest out loud. The last thing she wanted the Emperor to do was remember that she had younger siblings. Whatever he wanted with the hostages – and she had a feeling it was nothing good – she didn’t want her siblings to be added to the group.
“I will do as you command,” she said. “And what about the hostages?”
“They’re being fed,” the Emperor said, dismissively. “Once the search is organised, I have another task for you.”
Charity groaned inwardly, but tried to look attentive.
“You will go to the Peerless School,” the Emperor said. “Once you are there, you will consult their records and identify the youngest thirty-three newborn magicians. Not children from a Great House, or even a known magical bloodline; children without any magicians in the family. I want those children brought to the barracks in the Imperial Palace and held there, under guard.”
“More children?” Charity asked. “Why?”
“Because I want them here,” the Emperor said, tartly. “And you will do as you are told.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Charity said, thinking hard. Thirty-three was a strongly magical number – and requesting newborn magicians, without family who could or would object, struck her as worrying. Very worrying. “The youngest in the school?”
“Yes,” the Emperor said. “The youngest you can find.”
Charity tried to think of a reason, but drew a blank. The Great Houses had long since learnt the folly of trying to exclude newborn magicians, even though their families might be dung-gatherers or sheep farmers. They brought in new blood from the gods, strengthening the gift of magic that her ancestors had once been given, centuries ago. But the Emperor couldn’t want to add their bloodlines to his own, could he? It would be years before they were mature enough to bear children.
And he didn’t specify girls, she thought. Boys can’t bear children.
She shuddered. His motive had to be sinister ... but what?
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she said. “May I ask why you require such young magicians?”
“You may ask,” the Emperor said, “but I choose not to answer.”
Charity bowed her head, trying to keep her feelings under control. The Emperor would probably be sadistically delighted if he realised she was having problems coping with his orders, or suffering even as she carried them out. The children ... what did he want them for?
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she said, bitterly.
The Emperor leered. “You may go organise the search,” he said. Clearly, he did understand that he was causing her pain. “And then you will return to me before you carry out your next set of orders.”
Charity bowed, then backed out of the Throne Room. A handful of red-robed men were standing outside, talking to one another in low voices. The looks they shot Charity were far from friendly, suggesting that they weren’t remotely pleased to see her. Charity gazed back evenly, refusing to admit to the fear she felt running through her veins. Whatever they wanted, whatever they were doing in the Golden City, she wasn’t theirs.
A pair of Inquisitors had already set up a map of the city in the War Room. Charity took a moment to admire the level of detail someone had worked into the map, then started to explain what the Emperor wanted. The Inquisitors didn’t seem surprised; they merely started to make notations on the map, then organise the search itself. Charity rapidly found herself out of her depth, so she just sat back and watched as the planning came together. The poorest regions of the city would be isolated, then the soldiers would go in and start turning the place upside down. If the fugitives were there, the Inquisitors were sure, they would be found.
“But the locals won’t know them,” Charity protested. “Nor will the searchers.”
“The object of the search will be advertised,” one of the Inquisitors said. “I believe we can count on the local criminal masterminds to hand the fugitives over to us, rather than risk us making all sorts of discoveries when we search their premises. We may not know who has moved into the vicinity, but rest assured they know.”
He looked down at the map, marking out places to set up roadblocks. “It won’t be as bad as it was in Yukon,” he added. “There, the city sprawled out for miles.”
Charity nodded. The Golden City might be inconveniently small, but – for once – that smallness worked in their favour. There were simply fewer places to hide, while there were also more magicians and soldiers on hand to do the searching.
“Good,” she said. “When can we begin the search?”
“I would prefer to have the troops in place this evening,” the Inquisitor said. “There will be too much disruption otherwise.”
“Very well,” Charity said. She hesitated, then took a gamble. “What would you need thirty-three magical children for?”
The Inquisitor frowned. “Black magic,” he said. “There isn’t much else that requires children. Even sexual predators would be wise to stay away from magical children.”
Charity nodded. Children with magic, when frightened or angry, could produce blasts of raw power that had random effects on their tormentors. Even the most perverted monster would stay away from magical children, knowing that the child might accidentally kill the attacker or the child’s parents would track him down and subject the bastard to a fate worse than death. And besides, even the Emperor couldn’t afford to do the one thing that would unite most of the world against him. Unless he intended to provoke an uprising that he could then crush ...
But black magic?
The thought was appalling. She knew little about black magic, save for the fact it was considered evil beyond all hopes of redemption. Only Inquisitors and Healers were allowed to study it in the Peerless School ... and only so they could detect and counter its effects. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what required thirty-three children, save for the darkest of spells. But what did the spells actually do?
“Why do you ask?” The Inquisitor said. “And who do you know who might be practicing black magic?”
“I don’t think my oaths will let me tell you,” Charity said. And even if she did, what good would it do? The Inquisitors, sworn to wipe out black magic, would still help the Emperor if he wanted to slaughter half the city for a dark ritual. “I’m sorry.”
Shaking her head in bitter guilt, she turned and walked back to the Throne Room. This time, the Emperor was alone, reading a long scroll of parchment. He looked up when he saw her, then smiled brightly.
“Is the search underway?”
“It will start later this afternoon, once the soldiers are in place,” Charity said. “There’s no point in starting earlier.”
“Good,” the Emperor said. “Off you go to the Peerless School, then. Oh, and Charity?”
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“You are no
t to tell the children – or anyone else – anything, apart from the fact they have been selected to receive lessons from me personally,” he added. “I don’t want you to alarm them.”
Charity felt her heart break under his words, but resistance was futile.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she said. “I will do as you command.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“So,” Daria said. “No luck?”
Elaine shook her head. She and Johan had meditated for hours, ignoring the muted protests from the upper floors, but they’d managed to do nothing more than make themselves sleepy, no matter how hard they tried. Elaine had resisted the temptation to go for a nap; Johan, who had barely slept since they’d fled the Imperial Palace, was currently lying on the sofa in the next room, snoring loudly.
“It doesn’t work,” she said. “He has a sense of my presence, but I don’t have anything from him unless someone else is boosting the link.”
“He has a sense of my presence,” Daria said, evilly. “Poor guy doesn’t know where to put his eyes.”
“It’s a fairly common problem,” Elaine pointed out. “It’s your fault for running up and down in front of everyone wearing nothing.”
Daria smirked. “Is it my fault that human society is so dreadfully repressed?”
“Johan is a virgin, I believe,” Elaine said. “And I don’t think he actually managed to get that far with Jayne before his father managed to ruin it. You’re probably the first near-naked lady he’s seen.”
“Poor guy,” Daria said. “It’s so much easier being a werewolf.”
“Because you don’t think of sex and a relationship as being the same thing,” Elaine said, dryly. “Johan probably doesn’t have the slightest idea how to handle his feelings.”
“I noticed,” Daria said. She sniffed, loudly. “Do you think I should let him take matters into his own hands or give him some assistance.”
Elaine coloured. “I don’t think you should do anything,” she began. “I ...”
“I’m sure he’ll get matters in hand eventually,” Daria said. “It’s practically genetic ...”
“Enough,” Elaine said, feeling her blush deepen. “I think he probably feels all hopelessly confused and embarrassed already.”
“That’s why werewolves have the advantage,” Daria said. “We don’t lie to ourselves, not like you humans. Nor do we bother to hide our feelings.”
“You can’t hide your feelings,” Elaine said. She took a breath. “How many boyfriends have you had since we first knew one another?”
Daria made a show of counting, first on her fingers and then on her bare toes. “Um,” she said, finally. “A lot?”
“A lot,” Elaine agreed. “And how many of them were boys from the Golden City? You know, the ones who weren’t interested in anything more than a quick fuck?”
“You’ve been listening to me,” Daria said, amused. “Most of them weren’t interested in seeing me the following morning, let alone the rest of the week.”
Elaine felt her cheeks grow hot. She’d known – it had been impossible to miss – just how many times Daria had brought someone back to the apartment they’d shared. Thankfully, Elaine had rarely actually seen the men – Daria didn’t like keeping them overnight – but the sounds they’d made had echoed through the thin walls. She’d wanted to complain ... and, at the same time, she’d envied her friend the freedom to hunt for pleasure in her own way.
She pushed the thought out of her mind and leant forward. “Are you interested in Johan?”
“He’s nice-looking,” Daria said. “And interested in me. And not stupid enough to think he knows everything. And young enough not to make a fuss when I dump him.”
“I think he’s been very isolated for most of his life,” Elaine said. “You cannot expect him to have the normal reaction of a magic-born child. Sex was not a normal part of his life, not like the boys we knew from the Peerless School. He might well become far too attached to you ... or he might lash out when you leave him. I don’t think it would be healthy for either of you.”
“He wants me,” Daria said.
“Sometimes what we want isn’t something good for us,” Elaine countered. “Johan is in a mess, no matter how hard he fights to repress it. That’s going to explode one day and I don’t think I want you anywhere near it.”
“You make it sound like he’s going to turn into a monster,” Daria said. “I thought I was the one who turned into a monster.”
Elaine sighed. “Johan has spent the past sixteen years of his life being told that he’s useless,” she snapped. “He has been made to feel a cripple in his family, the butt of every single joke, the victim of charms and hexes you and I could just shrug off. I don’t think he ever threw a tantrum like Millicent did, back in Year Two; I think he repressed everything as far as he could, burying it deep within his mind. And even crushing his father and brother didn’t do anything to help his repression. His anger issues could easily become terrifying.”
“Like Jared,” Daria said.
“Exactly like Jared,” Elaine agreed. Their classmate had been incredibly unpopular; he’d thrown tantrums when he didn’t get his way, hit out at his schoolmates and generally shown no concern for anyone, even himself. And then he’d collapsed, six months after they’d entered the Peerless School. Whatever his parents had done to him, the class had found out later, had permanently damaged his magic. “Only with a great deal more power.”
“I see,” Daria said. “And what do you intend to do about it?”
“I was planning to live somewhere well away from the rest of society and use the bond to help him work through his issues,” Elaine said. “But the bond isn’t forming properly, so I don’t even know if it will work.”
“Good luck,” Daria said. “And you should probably be careful not to fall in love yourself.”
Elaine glowered at her. “I haven’t found anyone during your absence,” she said. “And I could hardly go clubbing ...”
“Use a glamour,” Daria suggested. “You don’t have to look too different to avoid being recognised.”
Elaine snorted. One of the cases that had come up before the Privy Council had been of a sorcerer who had glamoured himself to look like someone famous, wealthy and powerful, then lured a succession of young witches into bed. It might have lasted indefinitely if he hadn’t managed to get two of the girls pregnant, who had then applied to the real person for marital rights. A glamour might have worked for Elaine, if she had been interested in a single-night stand, but it still smacked of deceptiveness. Besides, she wanted more than just a partner for the night.
“I think that would be dishonest,” she said. “And why am I talking to you about this anyway?”
“Because you want something and you’re asking your friend for advice,” Daria said. “I do read your emotions too, you know.”
“I read yours,” Elaine said. “Lust, hunger, lust, hunger, lust ...”
Daria made a rude gesture. “What else do I need?”
She shrugged. “None of the lads I meet on the town are interested in a long-term relationship with a werewolf,” she said. “One day, I will go to the Pack Meet and see if I find anyone who smells right. Until then ... I will just enjoy myself. And you should do the same.”
Elaine opened her mouth to reply, but stopped when she heard Cass coming down the stairs and into the room. “The kids are asleep,” she said. “I had to tell them a whole series of very boring stories until they finally closed their eyes.”
“Probably best to keep them away from Johan,” Daria said, curtly. “He had a remarkably wide range of emotions when he saw the little brats.”
Elaine eyed her. “You picked up on the subtle points there and not earlier?”
“There’s nothing subtle about a man in lust,” Daria said. “Or a woman, for that matter.”
Cass cleared her throat. “I should imagine that it doesn’t really matter,” she said. “They’re scared of him too.”
&nb
sp; “Good,” Elaine said. She knew enough about Johan’s home life to know the orphanage had been preferable. The Orphan Mother might have been a pain, but she hadn’t been abusive. “I wonder what Charity told them about him.”
“Just that he had powers now ... and that he was mad at them,” Cass said. “They heard far too many rumours at the school and they now think he’s a minor god.”
She closed the door, then sat down on one of the hard chairs. “So,” she said. “What do we do now?”
“Good question,” Elaine said. “Does the Emperor know you’re with us?”
“I don’t know, but the Inquisitors will certainly suspect something,” Cass said. “It isn’t exactly common for an Inquisitor to be released from her oaths. They will probably decide your planned departure and mine were linked. Even if the Emperor hadn’t shown himself, they would still be irked with me.”
“You deserted them,” Daria said, quietly.
“That’s what they would think,” Cass agreed. “We’re not trained to rely on anyone outside the Inquisitors.”
She sucked in a long breath. “We need information,” she said. “One of us needs to go out of the house and ... well, I’m the best choice.”
“The kids might be better,” Daria pointed out. “One of them could get the information we want without being detected ...”
“The oldest is fourteen,” Cass sneered. “She wasn’t raised in the packs, either. I doubt she could ask anything without tipping off the information brokers.”
She shrugged. “And it might be dangerous to put her on the streets, anyway,” she added. “I think those soldiers are from Deferens’s homeland. An unescorted women on the streets would be considered fair game.”
Elaine shuddered. “How can they live like that?”
“It’s astonishing what someone can get used to if they don’t realise they have a choice,” Cass said, coldly. “Sometimes, very rarely, we get fugitives coming out of his homeland. The remainder are trapped.”
“Should turn them all into werewolves,” Daria snarled. “No werewolf husband would dare treat his wife with anything other than respect.”
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