“There are quite a few tunnels below the Watchtower,” Hawke said. “We’ve been moving Firepowder there for quite a few months now. And when the Emperor is attending the Conference, we would be able to assassinate him too.”
“Maybe,” Elaine said, reluctantly.
“There would certainly be chaos,” Daria agreed. “We could slip out of the city while everyone was panicking.”
“Yeah,” Cass said, “but you would need to be damn sure you got rid of the Emperor.”
“I know,” Hawke said. “That’s the chancy aspect.”
“Then I’ll go with you,” Cass decided. “Daria, Elaine and Johan can flee the city.”
Chapter Thirty
“So tell me,” the Emperor said. “How are you feeling?”
“Wretched,” Charity said. She had slept, as he’d told her to sleep, but her sleep had been disturbed by vile nightmares. In the end, she’d given in and downed a potion designed to ensure a peaceful night. It hadn’t worked. “I feel like I haven’t slept at all.”
“You can go to bed at a more reasonable hour tonight,” the Emperor said. “Would you like to go to bed at sundown, perhaps?”
Charity felt her cheeks heat. She hadn’t had a set bedtime since she’d gone to the Peerless School, where magicians were expected to develop their own discipline. Her father certainly hadn’t told her when to go to bed when she’d moved back home. But at least it wasn’t an order. She took comfort in that, if nothing else.
“The Conference is due to start tomorrow,” the Emperor reminded her. “I want you to make a personal inspection of the Arena.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Charity said. Thankfully, most of the preparations had been made before the Emperor had revealed himself. “Is there anything in particular you wish me to do?”
“Take the statue with you,” the Emperor said, waving towards the petrified Light Spinner. “I want her in the exact centre of the Arena.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Charity said. “Do you want to gloat?”
“I want to make a show of what happens to all who dare to oppose me,” the Emperor said. “Take the statue and go.”
Charity lifted her wand, telling herself that at least she would be away from the Emperor for a few hours, then levitated the statue out of the Throne Room. Magic crackled over the stone, a clear indicator that it wasn’t a normal statue, but there didn’t seem to be any hope of Light Spinner reversing the curse any time soon. Was she even awake and aware in there? Charity hoped she wasn’t, even though it would have kept her trapped indefinitely. Being a statue for the rest of her life would be bad enough, but it would be far worse if she knew what had happened and couldn’t do anything about it.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, as she lowered the statue to the ground and called for a pair of burly servants. “You deserved better.”
The servants appeared and prostrated themselves in front of her. Charity shuddered, then told them to get up and carry the statue down to the Arena. The servants rose, bowed and obeyed, grunting and groaning as they carried the statue out of the palace. Charity hesitated, long enough to feel the weight of her oaths pushing at her, then strode out of the palace herself and paused to take a breath. The air was cold, but the stench of dark magic still hung around the palace, warning everyone that the Emperor had gone mad. Charity wondered why none of the Great Houses had started planning a coup ... but then, they wouldn’t have told her, would they? She was Deferens’s slave.
Gritting her teeth, she started to walk towards the Arena as snow started to fall. It wasn’t the largest building in the city, but it provided seating for over twenty thousand spectators, most of whom came to watch the gladiators bleed out and die on the sands or magicians duelling with their rivals. It was said – untruthfully, she knew – that the spectators were just as much at risk as the duellists, as their spells might be reflected into the audience. Her father, in one of his kinder moods, had pointed out that the audience liked the hint of danger. But it wasn’t real.
She paused outside the gates, then stepped up and through the ward keeping members of the public out of the building. A small army of slaves, mainly gamblers convicted of trying to cheat their partners, were sweeping snow out of the Arena, while a team of wardcrafters were erecting wards that would divert the snow away from the sands. Someone had cast hundreds of heating spells, she realised, as she walked further into the building. The snow was actually dripping, producing a muddy carpet for the Emperor. She hoped, silently, that they actually managed to clear up the mess before the Emperor arrived. He was not going to be pleased if he saw that as his podium.
It wasn’t the only problem, she knew. The seats weren’t comfortable, nothing more than bare stone; there were charms that could probably help, but there was a marked absence of luxury or anything else that might allow the Court Wizards a chance to show off their power and prestige. On the other hand, she told herself, at least it wouldn’t grow into a competition between them. The last time such a conference had been held, the Court Wizards had competed savagely to see who could produce the most tacky displays of luxury. She honestly didn’t know why the Grand Sorcerer hadn’t put a stop to it.
Probably wanted them to waste their time rather than plotting against him, she thought, as she walked over to the Royal Box. A harassed-looking woman sat there, issuing orders. It would have kept them busy and he wouldn’t have had to lift a finger.
“Lady Conidian,” the woman said, turning to face her. “Welcome to the Arena.”
“Thank you,” Charity said. Lady Aisling wasn’t grovelling before her, which was something of a relief. It had been easier to accept grovelling when she hadn’t been forced to grovel herself. “Are we ready for the speech tomorrow?”
“More or less,” Lady Aisling said. “We’re just sweeping out the snow now, then we’ll dry the seats and sands. The Emperor himself will be speaking from a podium in the centre of the Arena, but we’ll have to keep that dismantled until just before we open the doors.”
“Very good,” Charity said. She turned as she saw the two servants enter the Arena. “The Emperor wants ... that ... in the middle of the sands.”
“I can put it near the Emperor’s podium,” Lady Aisling said. “But it won’t go on the podium itself, unless he wants it to be moved at the last possible moment. The whole thing isn’t designed to carry much weight.”
Charity frowned. “Can’t you use spells to hold it in place?”
“Not without risking some of the other spells,” Lady Aisling admitted. “There are quite a few subtle protections built into the podium.”
“The Emperor will probably accept it,” Charity said. “And what about the tickets?”
Lady Aisling grinned. “Not counting the Court Wizards, who will be coming anyway, we’ve sold three quarters of the tickets to various people,” she said. “Most of them are magicians, but mundane society has requested quite a few too. They want to see the Emperor in all his glory.”
“And so they shall,” Charity said, with the private thought that they would see more than they wanted to if the Emperor wore his kilt. “Will they all be able to hear?”
“The spells on the Arena take care of that,” Lady Aisling said. “Every last grunt or groan – or scream – from the gladiators is captured by the wards and rebroadcast to the watching crowds. I don’t think the Emperor’s speech will be any different.”
“I’m sure it won’t,” Charity said. “And the food?”
“Being prepared in the canteens now,” Lady Aisling said. “Once the speech is concluded, I understand the Emperor and the Court Wizards will return to the Imperial Palace, while everyone else will be fed here. I didn’t organise specific food for the Emperor and his guests.”
“He’s definitely planning to host a dinner at the Imperial Palace,” Charity said. There seemed to be a striking lack of preparations, but the Emperor didn’t seem inclined – thankfully – to burden her with everything. He’d brought a huge staff into the
palace almost as soon as he’d taken over. “The Senior Magicians will be fed there.”
“Good,” Lady Aisling said. She smiled, weakly. “I don’t mind telling you that catering for so many people is quite hard.”
She reached out and took Charity’s hand, then led her through a set of doors into a grey stone corridor. “And I wanted to ask someone quite senior,” she added. “What are those?”
Charity followed her pointing finger. A crystal was firmly embedded in the stone wall, glowing faintly with white light. It was one of the crystals from the rite, she realised after a moment of confusion, carried down and placed within the arena by ... whom? But she knew she couldn’t answer the question. All she could do was lie.
“They’re part of the Emperor’s personal security wards,” she said. “He prefers to use them rather than the standard precautions.”
Lady Aisling snorted. “No one is going to try to assassinate him in the midst of the Arena,” she said. “This may not be the Peerless School, young lady, but we have a lot of protective wards to prevent the audience from doing anything stupid.”
Charity hesitated. “And how often do they try?”
“Every damn day,” Lady Aisling said. “I don’t see why the Emperor ordered those things brought down here. There’s over fifty of them in various places. I don’t like it.”
“I can take your complaints to the Emperor, if you wish,” Charity said. She didn’t blame Lady Aisling for being doubtful. Even if she hadn’t seen the rite, she would have known that something was fishy. “But I don’t think he will be inclined to listen. He’s not in a good mood right now.”
“So I’ve heard,” Lady Aisling said. “I don’t suppose you can tell me why, can you?”
Charity shook her head. “I have to inspect the entire building,” she said, instead. “Can you show me round?”
It took nearly two hours to cover the entire building, Charity discovered, after poking through each and every room. Most of them were empty – the gladiators had been sent elsewhere for the week – but a handful held sporting gear, weapons and various devices she didn’t recognise. A couple held statues of naked men and women, which made her blush in shock; Lady Aisling, when asked, refused to tell her why they were in the Arena, leaving it to Charity’s imagination. But none of her ideas made very much sense.
“We’re going to be bringing in extra servants tomorrow,” Lady Aisling concluded, after they returned to the sands. Light Spinner was now placed on the sands, her twisted face looking shocked. Charity felt another bitter stab of guilt and sympathy, which she clamped down on savagely. There was nothing she could do for the former Grand Sorceress. “But they will all be spellbound.”
“Glad to hear it,” Charity said, softly. Once, it wouldn’t have seemed a hard thing to her; now, she understood just how the spellbound must feel. “And then you will discharge them, afterwards?”
“Of course,” Lady Aisling said. “But there is another issue to raise.”
Charity turned to face her, then nodded.
“I’ve been involved in placing the Court Wizards in accommodation,” Lady Aisling said. “It wasn’t an easy task, because far too many of the Great Houses refused to open their doors.”
Charity flushed. House Conidian had few allies among the Court Wizards and she knew better than to invite magicians she didn’t trust into her home. Besides, she had been too busy trying to clean up the mess her father and Jamal had left behind to give the matter any thought. It had been too likely that someone would have taken advantage of her if she’d allowed them anywhere near the house.
But in the Golden City, where accommodation was always at a premium, it couldn’t have been easy to find places for each and every Court Wizard.
“We did find them all places, eventually,” Lady Aisling said. “But the search for the fugitives is turning their arrangements upside down. Please will you speak to the Emperor for us and inform him that the search is causing us considerable problems.”
“It isn’t just you,” Charity said. “And the search has to be carried out until completion.”
She shivered. She’d heard a whole series of complaints as she waited for the Emperor to wake up, all from mundanes or very poor magicians. The soldiers had gone through their homes, ransacked their possessions and generally caused trouble. At least one soldier had been turned into a toad for trying to molest a magician’s daughter, who had proven perfectly capable of defending herself. But she had a feeling that the Emperor wouldn’t be pleased, when he finally heard about it. A girl using magic on a man? Unthinkable!
“The search is causing too many problems,” Lady Aisling snapped. “And I need you to impress that on the Emperor. The Court Wizards are getting restless.”
Charity rather understood how they felt. First, Light Spinner had ordered them to undertake the journey from their bailiwick to the Golden City, journeys that could be long and arduous in many cases. Then they’d discovered that the city was on edge, the accommodation was very poor and snow was falling for the first time in centuries. And then the Grand Sorceress had been replaced by an Emperor, who was a complete stranger to them. At least Light Spinner had been a known factor.
And they can’t even politick because they’re trapped inside the houses, she thought. Or because they don’t know where all the pieces are going to fall, since the Grand Sorceress fell.
“I will bring it to the Emperor’s attention,” she said. “But there are other concerns here.”
“He should be heeding you,” Lady Aisling said, sharply. “You are his assistant, are you not?”
“I don’t think he takes my opinions seriously,” Charity said, fighting down the urge to start crying. She’d seen too much, too quickly, to believe that the Emperor gave a damn about her thoughts and feelings. Everything he did was for his best advantage, not hers. “And all I can do is what I am told.”
Lady Aisling took a step forward and peered into Charity’s eyes. “He’s got you spellbound, hasn’t he?” she said. “The Great Houses will crucify him for this.”
“You can’t tell them,” Charity pleaded. “You mustn’t tell them!”
“I should,” Lady Aisling said. “Or do you want to remain his slave for the rest of your life?”
Charity shook her head. “Don’t tell anyone,” she said. She had no idea how the Emperor would react when he found out that someone knew what he’d done to her, but she doubted it would be pleasant. “Please.”
But it wouldn’t stop there, she knew. If it became public knowledge that she was spellbound, her place as House Conidian’s mistress would be called into question. Johan was either dead or missing, while Jay and Jolie were both two years below the age of maturity. House Conidian would be leaderless when it needed a leader the most. The other Great Houses, scenting blood, would converge on the family and rip it apart. And she was sure the Emperor would do nothing to stop it.
“Tell me,” Lady Aisling said. “Is that what you want or what the Emperor wants?”
“Both,” Charity said. “I ...”
She forced herself to stand tall. “Have everything completed in time for the speech tomorrow,” she ordered. “The Emperor will not be pleased if it has to be cancelled.”
“I understand,” Lady Aisling said. “And I won’t let either of you down.”
Charity nodded, then strode out of the Arena and back onto the streets. The snow was falling faster now, making it harder for her to see as she walked into the park. A number of couples were sitting or walking within the foliage, using magic to protect themselves from the cold and snow. She felt a sudden stab of envy as she saw them, wondering if she should have indulged herself more at the Peerless School ... but her exams had always seemed important, even if her father had probably intended to marry her off to someone he chose. No magician would want an ignorant wife.
They’re happy, she thought, bitterly. It’s cold, the city is occupied and they’re at risk, but they’re happy.
She force
d herself to look away, then start walking back towards the palace. The snow seemed to grow stronger for a second as she reached the outer edge of the wards, then stopped altogether as she walked through them. They’d finally finished modifying the wards, she deduced, as she entered the palace itself. The guards, hanging back inside the building, merely nodded as they saw her pass.
“My Lady,” an unfamiliar voice called. “I have a message for you.”
Charity looked up. A young man – he couldn’t be more than fifteen – was standing there, holding a scroll of parchment in one hand and a wand in the other. Charity frowned, then took the parchment and broke the seal on it with a practiced motion. It was from Lady Lakeside, informing her that her younger sisters had moved into House Lakeside until Charity came to collect them.
“Thank you,” she said, as she folded the parchment and stuffed it into a pocket in her dress. “And thank your mistress too.”
“I shall,” the messenger said. She guessed he was from a cadet branch of the Lakeside Family, close enough to be trusted to run messages, too distant to be granted any real power or influence. “Will there be a reply?”
Charity considered it, then shook her head. The last thing she wanted was the Emperor asking who had sent her a messenger. She didn’t know what he would do with her younger siblings, if they fell into his hands, but she didn’t want to find out. Instead, she watched the messenger go, then walked further into the palace, pausing only to drop the parchment in the nearest fire. It flickered once, burst into flames and then crumpled into dust.
And may he never ask, Charity prayed, silently. Because as long as they are safe, there’s hope for us yet.
Chapter Thirty-One
“I wish we were back in our old apartment,” Daria said. “This place is the pits!”
“You know,” Cass said, from where she was sitting. “You sound like a teenager.”
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