“Come back with me,” he said. The struggle in his eyes was growing stronger. “Please.”
Elaine shook her head, then launched a series of complex hexes and charms she’d devised herself, using the knowledge from the Great Library. She’d stripped out all of the unnecessary sections, ensuring the spells could be cast with the bare minimum of power. Dread battered them away, as easily as a batsman would knock away balls thrown at him by his teammates, but every one of his counterspells drained magic from his reserves. And yet, she knew it wouldn’t be enough.
She retreated, drawing his attention away from Johan. The cold wind felt chilly against her underclothes – it struck her, suddenly, that the fight was completely undignified – but Dread didn’t seem distracted. He’d probably had experts trying to seduce him, she thought, as she cast the next set of spells. He was definitely stalling, trying to give her as much time as he could to win the fight, yet if Johan didn’t wake up ...
“I’m sorry about the Watchtower,” she said, hoping to keep him distracted. “They didn’t deserve to die.”
“None of them deserved to die, but they would not have wanted to live,” Dread said, as he walked towards her. She knew what he meant; like it or not, the Inquisitors had wound up serving a monster. Their oaths prevented them from leaving Deferens, betraying him or even killing themselves to escape their shame. “The Levellers came up with something, I take it.”
Elaine’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know?”
“It was not hard to deduce,” Dread said. He gave her a humourless smile. “Whatever destroyed the Watchtower had to be taken through the wards. Everything even slightly tinged with magic would have been noted by the wards, and checked if it was powerful enough to do serious harm. But the attackers got something through the wards, without bringing them down. Simple logic leads to the conclusion that the attack was not carried out with magic, but something else.”
“Elementary,” Elaine said.
“Quite,” Dread agreed. “But also futile. The Emperor remains in control.”
Elaine met his eyes. “How long will his Empire survive?”
Dread lifted his wand. “As long as he can hold it together.”
“That may not be long,” Elaine said. She was expecting the hex and dodged it as soon as she sensed the flare of magic. “He brought back the dragons in front of the Court Wizards! I dare say the entire world knows by now.”
“Those who survived are being held,” Dread said. “I dare say they will make the proper reports when they contact their tame monarchs.”
He cast another hex, slamming it into Elaine’s weakened wards. They held, but pins and needles ran down her fingers and she almost dropped her wand. Dread eyed her, sheer desperation clearly visible in his eyes. He couldn’t toy with her much longer before his oaths pressed him forward ...
... And then she sensed Johan slowly staggering back to wakefulness.
Wake up, she thought at him. Hurry!
“I dare say they will,” she said, trying to keep Dread focused on her. “But what about everyone else? Is he going to sacrifice the whole city?”
“I ...”
Dread stopped, then hurled a nasty spell at her. Elaine tried to dodge, but this time she moved far too slowly. The spell slammed through her wards and knocked her to the ground, while her wand flew off in the opposite direction. She grunted in pain, then gasped as Dread caught her and rolled her over, pressing her face into the muddy ground. Her hands were yanked behind her back and cuffed. Moments later, she was rolled over again, helplessly staring up at him. The charms on the iron cuffs prevented her from using magic.
“You mustn’t take me back,” she said, knowing it was still futile. Dread’s oaths would no longer allow him any leeway. “He cannot be allowed to destroy everything we’ve built.”
Dread reached for her, then stopped. His hand shook, then his entire body started to tremble violently. Blood trickled from his nose and eyes, dripping down and splashing on her bare chest. He was fighting, she realised, and the fight had reached a point where the magic he wielded was turning against him. He’d played games with the oaths until they’d finally caught up with it.
She stared. No one could resist such oaths. And yet Dread was trying ...
Behind him, she saw Johan rising to his feet. Take his magic, quickly, she thought at him, hoping and praying it would be enough. It should be – mundanes had no magic to swear on – but would it save Dread? And would he want to live after losing his magic. Hurry.
Dread shuddered violently, but kept his mouth firmly closed. He was trying not to scream, Elaine saw; she wanted to look away, yet her head refused to turn. Magic was crackling around him now, ripping into his mind and body. And yet, it could all end if he just carried out his orders. Oaths existed to enforce themselves, after all. They didn’t kill people who abided by their word.
But he isn’t my father, Johan thought at her. She sensed waves of panic and guilt – and pain – accompanying the thought. I shouldn’t take his magic.
He’d done it before, Elaine knew. He’d taken magic to save his father’s life. But his father’s mind had snapped, and then he’d left the city. Or so she had been told. Charity Conidian might have been ruthless enough to have her father killed as soon as control of the house had passed to her.
You must, she thought back. Save him!
Johan concentrated. This time, because of the bond, she sensed the rush of his magic. She’d been right, she realised; Johan’s magic was driven by emotion, rather than the precise control she’d been taught at the Peerless School. He might never learn control ... not the way he was, but he didn’t need it. And yet, his magic was odd. His reluctance to hurt Dread was actually making it harder for him to save him.
“Do it,” she pleaded. She could draw on the bond to compel him, but she knew he would never forgive her if she did. He’d been humiliated too often by his family. “Please.”
There was a flare of magic. Dread opened his mouth, spewing up blood, then collapsed on top of her. His entire body shook one final time, then he blacked out.
Johan stumbled over to them and fell onto his knees. “Is he dead?”
“I don’t think so,” Elaine said. Her hands felt constricted in the cuffs, as if they were blocking her circulation. “Help me get these things off, then we’ll tend to him. And Daria.”
Chapter Forty
“Well,” the Emperor said. “You look good.”
Charity scowled at him, then prostrated herself. The Emperor’s maids had greeted her when she had returned to the Imperial Palace, then informed her that the Emperor expected her to wear a certain outfit until he said otherwise. It consisted of two translucent strips of red silk, so pale they were almost transparent, covering her breasts and groin. The rest of her body was bare. She’d never worn anything so daring at the Peerless School, let alone at a High Society gathering. She would almost sooner have been naked.
“Thank you,” she said, through gritted teeth. No one would ever take her seriously again, after they saw her prancing around like a cheap whore. “I bring news from your sorcerers.”
“You may rise,” the Emperor said. “What news do they have?”
“Inquisitor Dread has not returned,” Charity informed him. For once, she would have preferred to keep her face firmly fixed to the floor. “He was never an easy person to track with magic, but now he has vanished completely.”
“So he is dead,” the Emperor said. He sounded ... placid. “He has failed in his mission?”
“It would seem so,” Charity said. Dread ... had been kind, even though they’d both been slaves. She would miss him. “And the Head Librarian seems to have made her escape.”
“Maybe she has,” the Emperor said. He didn’t seem angry. Charity had half-expected a temper tantrum, perhaps followed by a brutal beating. “But where is she going?”
“I don’t know, Your Majesty,” Charity said. She had never thought she would be worried about someone not b
eating her, but his calm acceptance that something had gone wrong was surprisingly unnerving. “She merely ran from the city.”
“Ah, but what can she do,” the Emperor asked, “if she doesn’t know where to go?”
“Nothing,” Charity said.
The Emperor smiled. “I trust that your siblings have returned to the Peerless School?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Charity said. She wanted to scream in frustration. It was worth any price to keep her sisters safe, but she knew – all too well – just how easily the Emperor could end their lives. “They look forward to resuming their classes.”
“What little swots,” the Emperor observed. “Were you like that at school?”
“I worked hard,” Charity said. It hadn’t helped that far too many people remembered Jamal – and not in a good way. “But I’m sure they will become skilled magicians who can serve you well.”
“I am sure of it too,” the Emperor said. “I trust that you have seen the plans for the invasion?”
“I am no military officer,” Charity protested. It struck her, a moment too late, that it might have been better if she had commanded the operation. “But I know where Dread kept the plans.”
“Then we will commence the operation as soon as this city is secure,” the Emperor said. “That will teach the petty kings not to pick fights with me.”
Charity frowned. She was no military officer, but Dread had warned of the dangers of heavy casualties from storming Ida and she trusted his judgement. Losing half the army in an attack on a minor kingdom would be pointless – worse than pointless. It would be actively fatal, once the kingdoms started building up their own forces. Whatever else had happened, the dragons and the destruction of the Watchtower would fatally undermine the Empire’s illusion of invincibility.
And what did Ida have that was worth the risk?
She kept that thought to herself, even as she rose to her feet and backed out of the Throne Room. If the Emperor wanted to waste his men by battering them against a mountain kingdom, who was she to stop him? It might even shatter his power, once and for all.
And that, she knew, was greatly to be desired.
***
Johan had never had to handle a medical emergency before, not when his entire family knew healing spells that could cope with almost everything short of major brain damage. Elaine detailed him to feed as much water as he could to Daria while she worked on Dread, attempting to save the Inquisitor’s life. Johan wasn’t sure he liked the Inquisitor as much as Elaine did, but he did as he was told. Besides, it kept him busy, with no time to brood.
“You smell of guilt,” Daria said, once she managed to return to human form. “What have you done?”
“It must be impossible to get away with anything in your family,” Johan muttered. He rose, then started picking up pieces of wood for a fire. The darkness was falling rapidly now and he knew better than to sleep in a forest without some source of light. “Your parents must always have known who to blame.”
“Only if that person blamed themselves,” Daria said. She didn’t bother to don her robe, merely joined him in picking up sticks. “You have to know the difference between right and wrong to feel guilt.”
“I took his magic,” Johan said, very quietly. “It’s my fault.”
“He would have taken Elaine otherwise,” Daria told him. “And perhaps killed the pair of us.”
Johan sighed, rubbing his forehead. He’d been compelled before; Jamal had been very fond of forcing him to abase himself, or perform humiliating acts in public. He knew what Dread had been feeling, forced to lay hands on a friend and arrest her, even as every fibre of his being struggled against the commands. Taking Dread’s magic had been the only way to save his life, yet ... yet it hadn’t been anything like lashing out at his father. Dread hadn’t deserved to be crippled.
He looked at Daria’s naked body, admiring it in an abstract way that puzzled him. She was covered in scars, reflections of the internal damage her wolf form had suffered, yet she was moving as easily as ever. He knew he should be attracted to her – still attracted to her – and yet he felt nothing beyond casual admiration. He’d felt attracted even after knowing she was a werewolf, so why was he no longer interested in her now?
Shaking his head, he glared at the pile of wood and tried to set it alight. There was a flash of light, followed by a wave of heat that sent him stumbling backwards. When he looked, the first pile of wood was rapidly being devoured by the flames. He shrugged, then started to gather more wood and add it to the blaze.
Johan, Elaine sent. I think you should talk to him.
Johan turned and saw Dread, standing beside the grave. He was turned away from them, but Johan could see iron determination in the way he held himself. Johan hesitated, unsure of what he wanted to say or do, then walked over to the former Inquisitor. Dread didn’t look round until Johan was standing next to him, peering down at the unmarked grave. The hex sign had been disintegrated in the fighting.
“Thank you,” Dread said.
Johan felt his mouth drop open. He’d never considered that anyone would thank him for removing their magic. He knew, all too well, that to be Powerless was to be powerless, to live with the knowledge that, one day, a magician could upend your life and there was nothing you could do about it. And Dread had been powerful, perhaps one of the most powerful magicians in the world.
“I would have died if you hadn’t saved my life,” Dread said. “Or spent the rest of it in service to a monster. You saved me from that fate.”
“I wish I felt that way,” Johan admitted. “It feels like I killed you.”
“But you didn’t,” Dread said. “I never anticipated an Emperor claiming the Golden Throne. None of us did. It simply never occurred to us that our oaths could be turned into weapons and used to turn us into monsters. Or that we would have no choice but to serve a monster.”
“It might have been short-sighted of you,” Johan said. His father had been fond of horror stories about people who had sworn oaths, then discovered that they’d sworn oaths that could be twisted or used to make them do horrific things. Jamal had always found them amusing. “Or Charity, for that matter.”
“Your sister is a slave,” Dread said, flatly. “And, when you see her again, don’t forget it.”
Johan looked at him, then revised his opinion. Powers or no powers, Dread was formidable.
“I won’t,” he promised. “But what are we going to do now?”
He turned as Elaine walked up behind him. “Cass left a letter for you,” she said, holding it out to Dread. “Johan – do you want to help me cook dinner?”
Johan gave her a puzzled look, then understood. Dread would need some privacy to read the letter. Nodding to the older man, he walked beside Elaine to the fire, where Daria was carefully placing pieces of rabbit on a stick. Elaine looked unhappy at having to cut up the meat, but did it without complaint. Johan sat down next to her and held the pieces of meat over the fire.
“He thanked me,” Johan said, quietly. “Will he be all right?”
“I hope so,” Elaine said. “But give him some time to himself, I think.”
***
There was very little information, even in Elaine’s head, on what happened to magicians who lost their powers. Some magicians lost their magic as they grew old and died, but they were already senile; others, very rarely, lost their powers and went mad shortly afterwards. It was a confidence issue, Elaine suspected. No matter the crimes, very few magicians would willingly agree to strip another magician of his powers.
She kept a wary eye on Dread as he walked back to the fire, expecting everything from helpless anger to a potentially-lethal bout of depression. Instead, Dread seemed calm and composed, eating his share of the rabbit without complaint. In some ways, she realised, he was almost relieved. Whatever happened in the future, he wouldn’t have to serve Deferens any longer.
“The Emperor was planning to invade Ida,” Dread said, after they’d finish
ed the meal. “He was practically obsessed with the tiny kingdom.”
“One of his opponents in the contest came from Ida,” Daria muttered. “Do you think he’s just taking a pitiful kind of revenge.”
“I thought so,” Dread said. “It’s just the sort of thing he would do. And besides, Ida simply isn’t very important. He may feel that making an example of the state would keep everyone else in line.”
Elaine started to laugh, hysterically, as the pieces fell into place. “Not very important,” she repeated, between giggles. “Not very important?”
Dread frowned. “It isn’t,” he said. “They don’t have any territory or influence outside the mountains ...”
“It doesn’t matter,” Elaine said. “Ida was one of the places that held out, wasn’t it? One of the places that were completely surrounded by the Witch-King’s forces during the war. And they held out, despite being attacked by dragons and basilisks and every other creature the Witch-King could summon into being. How did they survive?”
Dread’s eyes narrowed. “You think they made a deal?”
Elaine nodded. “I think their ruling family made a deal,” she said. “And I think that, if we go to Ida, where it all began, we will find the hiding place of the Witch-King.”
End of Book III
The Story Will Conclude In:
Full Circle
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