The Flaw in All Magic (Magebreakers Book 1)

by Ben S. Dobson

  “It means I’ve been working under a false assumption. Only the University heads can make a portal on campus, and they were all accounted for both times, so I accepted that they couldn’t have done it. But make is the key. I told you the lingua is literal, and the glyph used in the portal ward refers to the actual effort of constructing the spell. As long as the right person made it, scribed the glyphs, invested their power into the gem… anyone could activate the portal, and the ward would allow it.”

  And now she understood. “This means a University head…”

  “Was behind this all along,” said Carver. “One of them put this portal together. And all four are going to have access to the airship tonight.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  _____

  “THESE ARE POWERFUL people, Kadka,” Tane said, weaving his way toward the lights of the ceremony through the crowd assembled along the harborfront. “And we’re about to accuse one of them of a serious crime. They can make my life harder, but my reputation doesn’t have far left to fall, and at least I have the protection of being born a citizen. You don’t have that. If it goes badly, staying in the Protectorate might not be an option for you.” Short of wrestling her to the ground and tying her up, there was no way to stop her from following—and he wouldn’t win that contest. But at least he could warn her.

  She wasn’t ever going to listen, but he could warn her.

  “You have bad memory, Carver. Same words, again and again.” Kadka grinned. “Have to come, or I don’t see what spell they try next to kill us.”

  “We both know I can’t do much to stop you. I just thought you should know it could go worse for you than for me.”

  “Still. I go where you go.”

  “Have it your way.” Tane sidestepped around a kobold woman who had stopped in the street to gawk at the lights.

  The sun had set by the time they’d gotten off the discs in Porthaven, and the launch ceremony was well under way. Ahead, at the edge of the water by the drydocked airship, the little park where launch ceremonies were traditionally held had been transformed for the occasion. Strings of hundreds of silver-blue magelights held back the dark, and the area had been fenced off from the surrounding harborfront and filled with silk-covered tables and elegant flower arrangements.

  Visible by its slight silver shimmer, a transparent barrier surrounded the entire affair to keep away any unexpected weather, or unexpected guests. Within, the city’s elite mingled with foreign dignitaries, dancing and laughing and probably making expensive deals and alliances. And all along the waterfront outside, the less powerful gathered to watch the launch, waiting excitedly for the moment when the airship first took flight.

  “Look, Carver.” Kadka pointed upward, her eyes wide—for a moment, orcish features or no, she fit perfectly with the rest of the awestruck crowd.

  The airship itself didn’t look much different from the last time Tane had seen it, but the scaffolding was gone. Now the great gleaming envelope loomed free over the ceremony, unfettered save for the rigging linking it to the hull. Several large magelights had been positioned beneath so that it shone majestically against the night like a strange, oblong moon, shedding reflected silver radiance across the water. Why Lady Abena had chosen an evening launch, Tane didn’t know, but he supposed the airship would look impressive shining over the harbor, and the lights of Thaless equally so from above.

  He kept moving. It was a lovely sight, but he didn’t have time for it.

  Mageblades stood all around the perimeter of the fence, holding back the crowd, and there was only one point of entry to the ceremony: a white tent positioned around the single gate, so that the unsightly business of checking invitations and searching for weapons and artifacts could be conducted without bothering those already inside. To one side of the entryway, dozens of guarded carriages sat waiting for their owners, most horse-drawn, but a few powered by ponderous, expensive ancryst engines. The wealthy didn’t travel through Porthaven on foot, especially at night.

  Tane strode directly to the tent, with Kadka just behind. Two Mageblades blocked his way, a handsome dark-haired elven man and a blonde human woman. Tane didn’t let himself flinch. Any hesitation would only prove he didn’t belong.

  “Invitations?” the elf asked, eyeing the frayed edges of Tane’s waistcoat and Kadka’s tattered suspenders.

  “I’m not a guest,” said Tane. “But I am working at the request of Lady Abena. I have urgent information.” By way of demonstration, he raised the portal scroll and airship plans rolled in his fist.

  “No one gets in without an invitation. We’re under strict orders.”

  “And you’re doing a fine job. I know how important security is tonight, but this can’t wait. Like I said, I’m working for the Lady Protector.” Tane glanced theatrically to either side, leaned in, and lowered his voice. “Send to your commander. Say I need to speak with Inspector Indree Lovial. She’s in charge of the covert detail from Stooketon Yard. The fact that I know that should tell you I’m not wasting your time. She’ll vouch for me.” He hated to bring Indree into it—she had more to lose than he did—but there wasn’t much choice. He could worry about evading her once he was inside.

  The elf lifted the graceful sweep of his eyebrow. “Sir, I don’t think—”

  “It’s about the airship launch,” said Tane. “If it goes wrong because I don’t get in there, it’s going to be on your heads. You don’t want that. All you have to do is ask.”

  The two Mageblades shared a look, and then the blonde woman’s eyes focused on a distant point. After a long silence, she nodded. “You’ll be escorted to the inspector, but we’ll have to search you first.”

  “Fine, just hurry. This is urgent.”

  The human woman pushed open the tent flap and held it aside. “In here.” She glanced at Kadka with some distaste. “Your friend will have to wait.”

  “No, she’s—” Tane stopped himself short. He might have been able to persuade them, but he didn’t have to. And if Kadka wasn’t going to listen to reason… “She’s not part of this. Just an escort to see me safely through the crowd. You know how Porthaven can be at night.”

  Kadka’s brow creased. “Carver?”

  “Wait here, Kadka,” he said, feigning an authoritarian tone. “I won’t need you inside.”

  She didn’t argue. After everything they’d been through together in the past few days, it might have been easier if she had. Instead, she just looked at him. No sign of the toothy grin he’d become accustomed to, but it wasn’t quite anger either. Just unblinking yellow eyes and a straight, tight line to her mouth.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It’s better this way.”

  And then he stepped into the tent, and left Kadka behind.

  The tent was lit inside by a single globe of magelight suspended overhead. A pair of copper posts stood at the mid-point of the space, one on the left and one on the right, each topped with an unlit glass globe. A band of glyphed copper ran across the ground between them, perhaps six inches wide and long enough to span the tent from side to side. Tane recognized the device at a glance: a detection band, with a standard selection of security divinations. When he stepped across the copper, the spells would detect any Astrally charged artifacts he was carrying and any brass that he might be using to hide them, as well as a number of metals commonly used to forge weapons. If he was carrying any of those things, the globes on either side would fill with magelight. Two Mageblades were waiting on the far side to step in if necessary—a black-haired elven man and a red-scaled kobold.

  “Please step through, sir,” said the elf, and gestured at the detection band.

  Tane did, and the magelights flared to life. No surprise, there. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It must be this.” He slipped the papers from Cranst’s lair under his arm and took out his watch case, flipping it open to show the ancryst inside. It pulled against his grip, reacting to the presence of the detection spells behind him. At the same time, he slipped his l
eft hand into his pocket and palmed the charmglobe within. “Brass, you know. Only a keepsake. No danger. Surely I don’t have to leave it?”

  “You can take it in with you, sir,” said the kobold, hissing his ‘s’ sounds. “But I have to ask you to step through the detections again without it first. We’ll hold on to it for you.”

  The kobold approached with his hand out, and Tane took a sudden step forward, just a little bit too fast, so that they nearly collided. Tane reached out with his left hand to stop himself, and his fingers slid down the Mageblade’s brass cuirass to surreptitiously deposit the charmglobe in the other man’s pocket.

  The kobold grabbed Tane’s shoulder to steady him. “Careful.”

  “I’m sorry,” Tane said, stepping back with a sheepish smile. “You’d think I’d gotten a head start on the festivities, but it’s just clumsiness.” He flipped the watch case closed and detached the chain from his waistcoat, then handed it over.

  “Not a problem, sir. Please, step back through.”

  Tane stepped back across the detection band, and then forward again. The glass globes remained unlit.

  It was easy enough to retrieve the charmglobe after the kobold gave him a final cursory pat down—pickpocketing was the most basic sleight of hand, and he’d used the same trick to get artifacts into exams a hundred times. He wasn’t entirely certain why he’d done it this time, other than a strong feeling that he didn’t want to go into this without any sort of defense. A simple flash charm wasn’t much, but at least it was something.

  The elven Mageblade escorted Tane across the ceremony grounds, keeping to the fence so as not to disturb the guests. Men and women in dress far finer than Tane’s danced with one another further in, and others chatted at tables nearby. More than a few cast disparaging looks at his shabby clothes. He ignored the glances, and refastened his watch chain as he walked.

  Halfway between the entry tent and the harborfront, Indree was leaning against the fence with one hand and holding a handbag in the other, watching the crowd. She wore a dress with a wine-red bodice and a long black skirt, and her black hair was elegantly done, swept up above her pointed ears in an elaborate knot of waves and curls. He’d never seen her like this before—at university, she’d stuck to the coats and trousers common among students.

  She didn’t turn as they approached, just waved off the Mageblade with a subtle gesture. “I’ll take him from here. Keep moving, like you were just patrolling the perimeter.” The dwarven man continued on with hardly a pause in his step.

  Tane leaned his back against the fence beside her, trying not to draw attention. She was meant to blend in with the guests—best not to dispel the illusion. “You look very nice tonight,” he said in a low voice. “Although I have to confess, I miss the badge and pistol.”

  She didn’t look at him, but her cheeks flushed slightly. She pulled open the mouth of her handbag just enough that he could see the badge and ancryst pistol stowed inside. “I don’t go anywhere without them. And speaking of badges”—a flash of annoyance in her eyes, there—“I suspect you have one that you shouldn’t.”

  “Kadka has it, actually.”

  “But you did take it. Damn it, Tane, you’d better have found something good, or I swear by the Astra…” She glanced in his direction, and frowned. “Wait, where is Kadka? She’s not with you?”

  “We… decided it was better to split up. Cover more ground.”

  Indree rolled her eyes. “Which means you did something to chase her away. On the slim chance that you might actually listen to someone besides yourself: fix it. I like Kadka, and you two make a better team than common sense would suggest.”

  Tane rubbed the back of his neck. “It was the better plan. That’s all.”

  “If you say so. Now, are you going to tell me why you’re here?” She swept her gaze over the ceremony grounds as she spoke. “I have a job to do tonight. If you know something, get to it. Otherwise, let me work.”

  “It’s nothing,” Tane said, controlling his voice and his breath in case she tried a truth-spell. “I just had to use your name to get in. I’m not exactly on the list.” He pulled the rolled papers from under his arm. “I got a sending from Dean Greymond. She wanted me to bring her some spell diagrams. Have you seen her?”

  Now Indree turned fully toward him. “What diagrams?”

  “Just some of the wards on the workshop. Maybe she’s on to something for the investigation? I should probably go find her, in any case.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you lying to me, Tane?”

  “What? I’m not…” But when he saw the look in her eyes, he gave it up. “How did you know? Truth-spell?”

  “You’d just have beaten it. But it doesn’t take a spell to see the holes in that story. Why would Greymond ask you to bring her these diagrams? And if she did, why didn’t she arrange a way to get them to her without giving my name at the gate? You usually manage a better lie.”

  “In my defense, I don’t know if there was a good lie for this. I was hoping you wouldn’t think too much about it.”

  “What’s going on, Tane? The truth. Now. Or you go right back out the gate.”

  He’d had enough arguments with Indree to know she meant it, and if she threw him out, he wouldn’t be getting back in. So he told her the truth. What he and Kadka had found in Cranst’s bolthole and what it meant, with the spell diagram and the airship plans to support the story.

  “Spellfire,” Indree said softly. She’d turned away from the bulk of the crowd, hiding the spell scroll with her body as she looked it over. “One of the University heads? I don’t want to believe it, but this spell… nothing else makes sense.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “Why Greymond? You wanted to know where she was.”

  “Think about it. Cranst and his little cult were ready for us last night. There was only one person who knew where we were going.” That had been on his mind since he and Kadka had found the portal diagram. He hated it, but it made sense.

  “His cousin—”

  Tane shook his head. “They were waiting for us. They knew exactly who was coming and when. Dedric couldn’t have told them that much. Greymond could have. And it’s not just that. She was awfully eager to blame Kivit Thrung for the murder, that first day. She only brought me in to try and prove he could have done it, and when I didn’t, she immediately wanted me gone.”

  “That’s… compelling, but it isn’t proof,” said Indree. She rolled up the scroll and tucked it into her bag alongside the airship plans. “If it’s true, it means she’s the one who sent Cranst. She’s the reason Allaea’s dead. I don’t want to believe that. She was always so good to me. And she adored you, before… before everything.”

  “Do you think I want to believe it? I’m praying to the Astra that she has an explanation.” However strained their relationship had become, it didn’t change the fact that Liana Greymond had been an important part of his life once. He didn’t want to believe she was capable of murder. “But it has to be one of the four of them, and right now she’s at the top of the list.”

  Indree raised an eyebrow. “And if you’d managed to lose me and confront her alone, how exactly did you see it going? She could have easily had you thrown out. Or much worse, if you’re right about this. She’s a powerful mage, and you… aren’t.”

  “There are a lot of people here. I thought if I could goad her into saying something she shouldn’t, in front of witnesses…” Tane shrugged. “I would have had a plan by the time I found her.”

  “Here’s one,” said Indree. “I’ll question her. I’m here at Lady Abena’s request. She can’t throw me out. Come on.” She gestured to the tables nearest the water, where the most important guests were seated. “I don’t think she’s much of a dancer. She probably hasn’t left the faculty table.”

  “Wait.” Tane grabbed her arm. “Accusing a dean of murder could get you demoted or worse. Please, just… let me do this. I don’t have as much at stake.”

  Indree jerked her
arm away and rounded on him, anger flashing in her amber eyes. “Hard as it may be for you to believe, not everything is a puzzle that only the brilliant Tane Carver can solve! I didn’t join the constabulary just to have the shiniest badge, and you know that! Stop pretending—” She stopped herself, sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. “If Greymond means to sabotage the airship, it’s my duty to stop her. You can be part of it or not, but I don’t have time to do this with you.” And then she was pushing her way through the crowd, and he had no choice but to follow.

  Greymond was sitting with Dean Brassforge and Dean Orthea around a table near the water, leaning forward in animated discussion. As Tane and Indree approached, he became aware of a number of other guests moving in from all sides. None of them stood out particularly—they were dressed in much the same evening finery as everyone else—but several slipped hands into handbags or topcoats as they drew near. Reaching for badges, or perhaps pistols. Indree must have sent to the rest of her detail for support.

  Indree hadn’t yet announced herself, and she was still ten steps back when Greymond stood bolt upright and whirled around, eyes wide.

  It wasn’t easy to take a diviner by surprise.

  But Greymond didn’t run. Her hands shook as she raised them. “You think I… No! I would never!”

  “What is this, Liana?” Dean Orthea asked, her perfect brow creasing slightly. She pushed back her chair and made to stand to her full eight foot height.

  Indree drew her badge from her purse and flashed it quickly before hiding it once more. The rest of her detail closed in to surround the table. “I’m going to have to ask all three of you to stay where you are for a moment,” she said. Orthea frowned, but took her seat once more. “I’m sorry for the disturbance. Dean Greymond, I have to ask—”

  “I wasn’t part of this, Inspector Lovial, I promise you!” Greymond’s voice was high and the words came too fast. “Ask whatever you need to ask to believe me, cast any spells you must. I would never put any of my students in danger!”