by Claire Frank
“We’ve all lived through tragedy at one time or another,” Serv continued, putting a gentle hand on her arm. “The pain is not something you should bear alone.”
Cecily reached up to wipe the tear from her face. “Where are the others?” She’d spent the last two days avoiding people, hoping to dodge their questions. A few days ago she would have been horrified if she had known she would kill Magister Brunell, let alone in a room full of her friends. Now she was simply glad he was dead.
“They’re in the meeting room, trying to agree on a plan. When I left, Callum and Griff were eating everything in sight, and Merrick was stalking around the room like a caged animal.”
With a breathy laugh, Cecily rose. “That sounds like it could get out of hand rather quickly. We wouldn’t want them to run out of food.”
She walked with Serv down the winding hallways, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. The dim light of the glowstones and the weight of the earth above pressed at her. She was beginning to long for fresh air, and even the sun filtered through a cloudy, gray sky would have been a welcome change.
Callum sat hunched over the long rectangular table and picked at a plate of food. Merrick was indeed stalking around the room, walking with an anxious rhythm as Beau watched from a corner, his ears twitching. Sumara and Mira sat near each other, leaning close and speaking in low voices. Griff stood near his axe, which leaned blade-down against the wall. Edson huddled behind a small leather notebook, his quill scratching across the page.
They all looked up as Cecily entered. Callum leaned back in his chair and Merrick stopped his pacing.
Cecily took a deep breath. “I’ll be honest. I don’t know what to do next.” Her friends glanced at each other. “The only thing I know is that I can’t give up.”
“Give up. Bah!” Griff said.
“We’re not giving up either,” Callum said. “But in all our collective brilliance, we haven’t come up with much of a plan.”
A young messenger ducked past Cecily and darted forward to hand Callum a note. Callum’s brow furrowed as he read and he looked up at the boy. “Is this true?”
“Dunno,” the boy said. “I just deliver ‘em.”
Callum rose from his seat, still looking at the note. He crumpled it in his hand and tucked it away before Cecily could see where it had gone. “Wait here,” he said, his voice sounding bewildered. “I’ll be right back.”
Cecily watched as Callum and the boy left the room. She wandered to the back, too restless to sit down. Beau trotted over and looked up at her expectantly. She crouched down and scratched his head as he wagged his bushy tail. He leaned forward and sniffed her face, his wet nose rubbing her cheek.
Mira let out a quiet gasp and Cecily heard the chairs scrape across the floor as everyone got to their feet. A hushed silence filled the room and she turned around to find Callum, followed closely by Alastair. Cecily slowly stood and her gaze drifted past Alastair’s shoulder.
King Rogan walked into the room. He was absent his kingly raiment, dressed in an unadorned doublet, his crown nowhere to be found. A hush fell over the room and Cecily’s heart felt as if it had skipped a beat.
He stopped just inside the doorway, and his eyes locked on her. “Cecily,” he said, his voice soft.
Anger rose in Cecily’s chest and spread through her limbs like a crashing wave. She clenched her teeth and stalked across the room, the sound of her racing heart echoing in her ears. As she stopped in front of Rogan, she swung and slapped him, hitting him hard across the face with a loud smack. Rogan’s head flew to the side and he reached up to hold his cheek as the room erupted with commotion. Alastair’s mouth was open, his eyes raised in horror. Someone grabbed her arm, trying to drag her away, but she pulled against them and kept her eyes locked on the king, the palm of her hand burning.
Rogan held up his hands. “No, no, it’s okay. The gods know, I deserved that.”
The hand let go of Cecily’s arm and she could hear her friends murmuring behind her. Alastair crossed his arms and glared at her.
Rogan rubbed his cheek. “You were right, Cecily. I suspected Nihil abducted Daro from the moment you came to me. I kept it from you because if it was true, it meant I was at least partially to blame. I not only allowed Nihil to work with my blessing, I funded him. I let him convince me his work was too valuable to interrupt. I believed he was working for the benefit of the kingdom, that he would deliver me the means to ensure the security of my reign. I told myself that, as king, I had to make difficult choices. That much is true. Unfortunately, I chose wrong. I swear to you, I would do anything to change what I’ve done. I should have come to you, all of you,” he said as his eyes swept the room. “We should have faced this together.”
Serv placed a calming hand on Cecily’s shoulder. She looked up at her king and saw the man who had once been her friend. His eyes pleaded with her and she felt her anger diminish.
“We all owe our lives to Daro, in one way or another,” Rogan continued. “None of us would be where we are today without him.” He stepped forward, sank down on one knee, and reached up to hold her hands in his.
Cecily gasped. “Rogan, you don’t have to do that. Please.” Her gaze flicked around the room and her friends were staring, openmouthed. Alastair reached out as if to haul Rogan back up to his feet.
Rogan shook his head as he looked up at her. “If a man cannot admit when he has done wrong, he has no business leading others. Until Daro is returned to you, I am no longer the king. I am yours to command and I will help fight to get him back, to my last breath if that is what it takes.”
Tears sprung to Cecily’s eyes, and her anger melted away like ice on a hot stone. She gripped his hands and nodded, struggling to find words as he stood. “You’re right, we should face this together.”
Alastair leaned toward Rogan, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Majesty, with all due respect, do you really deem it wise to speak so rashly? You can’t simply renounce your throne for the sake of one man. Even if that man is Daro.”
“Calm yourself, Alastair,” Rogan said, as he straightened his clothes. “My reign is not worth the ruin of a man’s soul.” He looked around at their companions. “I owe all of you an apology. I shouldn’t have forgotten why I was king. It was because of all of you. I betrayed your faith in me, and for that, I am truly sorry.”
Her companions nodded to Rogan, and even Callum managed a begrudging bob of his head.
Rogan took a seat and Cecily followed. They explained to him what they knew. He cringed as Callum told him of the Sahaaran smugglers trafficking slaves. They told him about their attempts to find Nihil’s location and their run-ins with his Wielders. Cecily described, with as even a voice as possible, their encounter in Wesfell.
“She’s right, it was Daro,” Griff said. “Hard as it is to admit. Even with that mask, any of us would have recognized him.”
“Well, he is a bit hard to miss,” Callum said.
“Are you sure the other man was Pathius?” Rogan asked.
An image of his face drifted through Cecily’s mind. “I’m positive. He looked somewhat different from what I remember, but I have no doubt it was him. And I’m fairly certain he recognized me.”
“What did he say to you?” Sumara asked. “I saw him speak to you, after he ordered the others away.”
Cecily looked away, and her hand drifted up to rub her sore neck. “He said he’d never hurt me.”
“That’s…” Callum paused with his eyebrows raised. “…disturbing.”
“What does this mean?” Alastair asked. “Pathius has been presumed dead since the war. If he is alive, it could create some very serious complications.”
Rogan nodded. “True. We will have to face those questions later. Right now, our objective is to find and free Daro, and stop this madman from taking any more innocent lives. Any concerns about Pathius will have to wait.” He rubbed his cleanly trimmed beard. “What have you heard from the Lyceum? My contacts there have been myster
iously quiet of late.”
“About that,” Callum said, drawing out the words. “We may have made a bit of a mess. We were under the apparently mistaken impression that Nihil was working under the auspices of the Lyceum of Power. Cecily was kind enough to free her old Magister, a certain Magister Brunell, whom they’d been holding prisoner. Turns out, Brunell was the one working with Nihil, and I can’t fault the Lyceum for locking him up. Caused a fair bit of trouble down here.”
“Magister Brunell,” Rogan said. “Yes, I know of him. Where is he now?”
Callum brushed his hair from his eyes. “After he tried to kill me and Mira, and admitted to arranging Daro’s abduction, Cecily may or may not have deprived him of his ability to breathe.”
Rogan blew out a breath. “Well, that takes care of that, I suppose. And it explains the heightened security down here.”
“We got a little tired of people trying to kill us,” Callum said. “Being dead is bad for business.”
“Can’t say I fault you for that,” Rogan said. “I’ve grown rather fond of having an entire regiment of guards at hand.”
Cecily’s shoulders relaxed with relief. She had been concerned for how Rogan would react to their story. He may have come to them as an equal, but he was still the king, regardless of whether he wore his crown. Killing Lyceum Magisters, even rogue ones, was liable to land one in a very deep, dark cell, a place far worse than where she’d found Brunell.
“The problem is,” Cecily said, “we know Daro is alive and we know Nihil has him. But we don’t know where they are. They have proven to be extremely difficult to track down.”
“That is where I can help,” Rogan said.
Cecily drew in a quick breath. “You know where they are?”
Rogan nodded. “I do. I lost a number of men in the process, but I was able to find where Nihil is working. There is an old manor house, north of the city. It may have once been maintained as a fallback point for the royal family, in case of invasion. It was abandoned at least a century ago, maybe more. I wasn’t aware it even existed until my men found it. They came away with enough information that I am certain this is where we will find Nihil.”
Cecily’s heart thumped in her chest and her fingers prickled with excitement. “We have to go. We have to get him out.”
Callum held up a hand. “Slow down there. This the den of the beast you’re talking about. That place will be crawling with his Wielders. They’ve proven themselves to be a bit difficult to handle, in case you’re forgetting.”
“Five of us faced just one and we barely made it out alive,” Mira said, and her fingers brushed what was left of the wound on her head.
“The ones in Wesfell would have killed us all, if Pathius hadn’t stopped them,” Edson said.
“There’s no doubt this will be extremely dangerous,” Rogan said. “I can pull together a detachment of men, and if your experience in Wesfell is any indication, we’ll need a sizeable force. That won’t be a problem.”
“We may need more than numbers,” Griff said. “Fighting these men isn’t going to be straightforward.”
“And unfortunately, we have to be prepared for Daro to fight back,” Serv added. “We’ll need a way to neutralize him without hurting him.”
Rogan scratched his chin and nodded to himself. “My force will be large enough to handle even a group of powerful Wielders. But I think we need to enlist the aid of the Lyceum. The Paragon may have more insight into how we can attack Nihil’s men, and how to extract Daro.”
Callum snorted. “I’m not sure that we’re on the Lyceum’s list of friends at the moment.” He glanced to the side and shrugged. “Not that I was before.”
“You and I will go,” Cecily said to Rogan. “We can speak to the Paragon.”
Rogan looked at her. “Are you certain that’s a good idea? After Brunell?”
“The Paragon won’t dare deny you entrance, even if I’m with you. This is a problem that concerns them. People are going to hear stories about these powerful Wielders, and they’re going to come to the same conclusions we did, blaming the Lyceum. They will want to have a hand in neutralizing this problem. Besides, there are others in there, men and women Nihil took from their families, just like Daro. We can’t abandon them all.”
“This all sounds a bit impossible,” Callum said.
Cecily continued. “We all stood together once and we accomplished the impossible. I’m certain we can do it again.”
Her companions looked around at each other, nodding. Cecily was surprised to realize she believed what she said. With these people at her side, she was certain they would finally find Daro and bring him home.
36. PARAGON
The muscles in Cecily’s legs burned as she trudged up the stairs. The Paragon’s office was on the top floor of the Great Library. It was rumored his living quarters had been moved there and he hadn’t come down in years. Cecily could imagine why. The winding stairs seemed endless.
She and Rogan were flanked by four Lyceum Guards, two leading the way up the stairs, and two following close behind. As they emerged onto the top floor, the guards peeled off and took up their positions on either side of a set of double doors. The floor wound around the circumference of the building, jutting out above the floors of books, the domed ceiling high above.
A clerk scurried over, his back hunched and fingers stained with ink. He reached a bony hand and tapped on the door, the sound lost in the arching dome above. He leaned his balding head toward the door, nodded to himself, and waved for Rogan and Cecily to follow him inside.
The Paragon’s office was at one end of a long, narrow room, the outer wall following the wide curve of the round building. Bookshelves lined the walls, dusty tomes and leather-bound books placed neatly along the shelves. An enormous desk with feet carved to look like the claws of a great beast sat near one wall. Willowy curtains divided the room and Cecily could see the shadowy outline of a great four-poster bed on the other side.
Seated at his desk, the Paragon was almost invisible behind the stacks of books and scrolls spread across the tabletop. He stood as they entered, standing straight and tall. His crisp dark blue robes hung from his thin frame and his sparse hair was pure white. His blue eyes shifted from Rogan to Cecily, and his serene face gave nothing away.
He gave a cursory bow to Rogan, his head declining in a nod, before he flicked his gaze toward Cecily. She lifted her chin and his right eye twitched. He turned pointedly toward Rogan. “Your Majesty. To what do I owe this great honor?”
Rogan dipped his head, a slight show of respect toward the Paragon. “Paragon Windsor, forgive me for barging in on you so abruptly. I suggest we dispense with the trouble of decorum and get straight to the urgent matter at hand.” The Paragon raised his eyebrows. “A rogue Magister by the name of Nihil has been engaging in some most egregious acts: slavery, abduction and what appears to be human experimentation.”
The Paragon pursed his lips. “Yes, we have been aware of Nihil’s activities for quite some time. I must correct you on one point. He is not a Magister of the Lyceum. He was turned away many years ago. His Wielding ability was not particularly notable.”
Cecily spoke up. “You mean the Lyceum misjudged Nihil and failed to identify a lunatic.”
Windsor’s faced snapped over to Cecily, his voice low and strained. “It is only out of respect for our sovereign that I will refrain from having you escorted off the grounds.”
“Paragon Windsor, please,” Rogan cut in.
“This woman is accused of very serious crimes,” Windsor said. “She broke into a restricted area and released a man we had detained. And if the reports from my guards are correct, she later killed him.”
Cecily held up a hand. “I do owe you an explanation. You’re right, I broke in and set Magister Brunell free. At the time, I thought Nihil was connected to the Lyceum of Power and suspected Brunell had been imprisoned for uncovering the connection. I didn’t realize it was the other way around. When I discovere
d the truth, well...” She trailed off.
The Paragon looked at her, his eyes narrowed. “Yes, I have the report from my guards,” he said as he tapped on a piece of paper. “You put me in a difficult position, Lady Cecily. Magister Brunell still had vital information. Not only did you release him, allowing him to further his own plans, you then killed him, erasing all hope of finding out what he knew.”
“I apologize for the intrusion, and no one wants information about Nihil more than I do. But I can’t apologize for killing Brunell.”
“Bold words from a woman one step from a prison cell herself,” Windsor said. “You’ve caused us no small amount of trouble over the years. More than once I questioned the wisdom in letting you go.”
Cecily fought down the flare of frustration. “I fail to see how my past choices are relevant.”
“I fail to see why you are here,” Windsor snapped back.
“Nihil has my husband,” she said and held the Paragon’s eyes.
Windsor opened his mouth as if to speak, but hesitated. “I see.” He tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe. “That does not bode well, I’m afraid.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she said. “I’ve seen what they have done to him.”
Windsor nodded and looked down at his desk. “There are others, as well. We believe he took at least one of ours.”
“Isley Paven,” Cecily said and Windsor’s eyes went wide. “I saw her too. Her illusions were alarmingly solid.”
“I feared as much. We don’t fully understand the means Nihil is using to alter his subjects. But we know he is violating the fundamental laws of Wielding, and the results are devastating.”
“You said you’ve been aware of Nihil’s activities for some time. What have you discovered?” Cecily asked.
Windsor lowered himself into the chair behind his desk and motioned for them to sit. Rogan pulled up a chair for Cecily and himself, and they both sat down as Windsor shuffled the stacks on his desk. “We captured one of his altered Wielders,” he said. “I lost a number of men in the process. He was exceedingly difficult to contain. He was violent, erratic, and terribly powerful. However, it was his mental instability that was particularly alarming. We tried to reach him, but he was gripped by madness we could not penetrate.”