Obsidian

by Alan Baxter

  ‘Everything back,’ Haydon said triumphantly, interrupting Alex’s thoughts. ‘Get me out and I can fix everything!’

  Giving up was not in Alex’s vocabulary. If there was a way out of this, he would find it. He would only stop fighting when he was out cold on the floor. He would not risk bringing the anchor stone through, but they needed options and this mad professor was the only person with anything vaguely resembling an option. He needed to break him out, get him to the resistance house and hope that between them the others had gathered enough information that they could formulate a plan. ‘Wait there,’ he said. ‘I’m going to get something to disguise you.’

  Against the far wall of the room, near the door, stood a large wooden cabinet. Still careful of making any noise, Alex opened it. Inside were Guard uniforms. He almost laughed out loud. That was certainly the best he could hope for. He chanced a glimpse out into the corridor. The three Guards all stood together, chatting quietly, a few metres from the door. Alex returned to Haydon’s cell.

  ‘I’m going to break you out,’ he whispered. ‘You won’t be able to see me, but don’t worry about that. Once you’re out, go to the cupboard over there and change as quickly as you can into a Guard’s uniform. It’s not the best disguise, but it might help you hurry through the Tower unnoticed. When you’re ready, I’ll distract the Guards outside. Once they move to investigate, you run. In the middle of this corridor are stairs going up and down. Go down and keep going down. When you see a hallway with long tapestries along both walls and weapon racks near the stairs, that’s the ground floor. Go along that corridor, out the door at the end and you’ll be in a large square with a kind of church in it. I’ll be with you by then, so listen for my voice. Understand?’

  ‘And all this time I won’t be able to see you?’

  ‘Correct.’

  Haydon shook his head, slumped to the floor. ‘I’m going fucking mad. Voices inside and outside my head.’ He stared at the wall again.

  Alex ground his teeth. ‘Stand up! Come to the door.’

  Haydon looked up, tilted his head curiously at the barred window.

  Alex looked back towards the door to the room. He let his shields shift just briefly, flicking into view for a mere second. Haydon’s eyes widened.

  ‘Did I just see you?’

  ‘Yes. You have to trust me.’

  Haydon shook his head. ‘I don’t know …’

  ‘Come here.’

  The professor stood, stepped towards the cell door. Alex shot one hand through, the close bars biting into his muscled forearm. He grabbed Haydon by one shoulder and squeezed, gave the man an impolite shake.

  ‘You see me and now you feel me. Gonna trust me?’

  Haydon pulled free and stammered. ‘Yes. Yes, okay.’

  ‘Good. You remember the plan? It’s simple enough, right?’

  Haydon nodded, rubbed at his shoulder. ‘Yes. You get me out and I’ll dress as a Guard and run for my bloody life.’

  Alex breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Okay. Wait while I figure out this door.’

  He studied the hinges, heavy metal sunk into the glassy, obsidian walls. Thanks to old Patrick Welby, elemental magic had become Alex’s specialty. If he could operate softly enough, without drawing attention to the spells he wove, keep his magesign concealed, this should prove fairly straightforward. One of the elements was earth, and that encompassed all the mineral substances in existence. Obsidian was simply another mineral, hardened volcanic glass. Alex let his mind seep into the space around the first of the three hinges. He manipulated the elemental formation of the walls, used heat and agitation, focused through the Darak stone, and worked to melt the rock around the hinge. It rippled and wept, ran in thick rivulets along the door’s edge. Grimacing with panic that his magic would be noticed, like a bright light at night, to anyone else nearby with talent, even the Kin Guards outside, he quickly moved to the next hinge, then the last. The door shifted under its own weight as the hinges dragged through the sluggish molten rock of the wall and Alex caught it, lifted it aside.

  He looked back towards the door to the corridor, almost certain he would see Guards tumbling through. But no one came. He allowed himself a soft smile. He was getting better at controlling his magic. Haydon stood in the empty doorway, stunned.

  ‘Go!’ Alex whispered urgently. ‘Change. Then run for the stairs as soon as you hear my distraction.’

  He watched Haydon stumble to the cupboard. The man was probably too fat for anything in there, but he dragged on pants and tunic, forcing them closed around his ample gut. Alex moved to the door. The three Guards were huddled together, playing some game with dice that rattled in a leathern cup. He was grateful for their inattention. Haydon stood behind him, faintly ridiculous in the ill-fitting garb. It would have to do. At a glance it would suffice.

  ‘Wait here,’ Alex whispered into his ear. ‘You’ll know when to go.’

  Alex moved away, slipped past the men crouched around the dice and moved to the other end of the corridor, past the stairs. Another door at the end, the twin of the door into the room of cells, stood ajar. Alex took hold of the doorhandle and slammed it closed. As the Guards looked up, surprised, he opened it and slammed it again, and once more. The Guards leapt up and ran towards him. Haydon emerged from the cell room and bolted, head low, aiming for the stairs.

  The Guards stopped running and began to laugh as the door behind Alex opened and a huge man in long robes filled it, holding his stomach in mirth. Several Guards stepped casually from the stairwell as Haydon neared it and grabbed him. Alex’s heart hammered, his gut sank into ice. As he turned to barrel into the Guards between himself and Haydon, one of them threw something. It burst as he put up an arm to protect his face; light white powder showered all over him. Before his shields could account for it, he was outlined in the stuff, visible like a ghost.

  The Guards fell on him and he thrashed, striking out left and right, felt the satisfying crunch of bones and cries of pain. The huge man who had hidden in wait in the other room strode forward and Alex sensed magesign heavy in the air. Too much, too quickly. He struck out again and moved for space, tried to reach the Guards dragging Haydon back towards the cells. The man wept, hanging heavy in their grasp.

  The rising magic hit Alex like a wall of fire and he writhed in pain, fell to the floor. He gathered power of his own, felt the Darak swell and burn with his desperation, and he cast a gout of flame outwards. It started, but faltered, barely singeing two Guards. His strength drained and his shields dropped. In plain view, scorched and useless, he stared up at the approaching man in robes.

  ‘You are strong,’ the man said, ‘but you should never challenge the Autarch of Obsidian!’

  Alex grimaced, spoke through gritted teeth. ‘What have you done to me?’

  ‘A binding spell. It makes your magic rather useless. I thought for a second it wasn’t going to take, but you were distracted enough, fortunately. The pain will ease. A bit.’

  Alex concentrated on dragging breath into his lungs, tried to control his adrenaline, re-find his calm. The power of magic, especially amplified by the Darak, was relatively new to him, but he had quickly grown used to it. Now, with it dampened, he felt as though he had lost a limb. ‘You knew all along I was here,’ he said, furious, impotent.

  ‘Quite a show there. But really, did you honestly think we’d keep uniforms in the cells? Or that Guards would idly play dice while we knew you were in the city?’

  Alex shook his head, disgusted at his idiocy. ‘So you knew I’d come for him?’

  The Autarch laughed. ‘Actually, no. It didn’t occur to us that you would be so audacious as to try to break him out. Until a little bird tipped us off.’

  The Autarch stepped aside and Alex’s stomach flipped.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Rowan said, wringing his hands together as he peered out from behind the huge leader. ‘But it’s the only place I’ve ever known peace. I want to stay.’

  19

  Sil
houette and Claude led a confused Edmund back to Lily’s safehouse by a circuitous route. Patrols of Autarch Guard roamed everywhere, in groups of at least three. They regularly stopped, questioned people in the streets. Silhouette insisted that Edmund walk several paces ahead and look back for hand signals whenever a turn was needed. Silhouette and Claude shuffled along behind, bowed under the weight of their hooded disguises. As they neared the house, Claude hissed a warning.

  ‘Look!’

  Down a side street, one block away, a group of four Autarch Guard were pulling the hoods back from a pair of protesting Austere. The bone-thin, grey-skinned aesthetes raised their hands weakly in protest. Others in the street shouted in horror at the desecration. The Guards shoved the people back. One angry-faced female Guard pushed a young woman, who fell heavily to the ground and lay still. Several children fell to their knees by their mother, crying.

  ‘They’re checking the Austere!’ Silhouette said uselessly. ‘What the fuck?’

  ‘How far to the house?’ Claude asked.

  Edmund stood at a crossroads some twenty metres ahead, looking back with a pained expression. He had been finding it harder to ignore the strange sensations in his mind the longer he spent not heading for the Tower. It had taken several stern reassertions from Silhouette to keep him with them.

  ‘We’re nearly there,’ Silhouette said. ‘About two more blocks.’

  ‘We’re going to have to run for it.’

  Sil ground her teeth, looked left and right. They moved away from the junction, out of sight of the Guards still harassing the gathering crowd. ‘If we get seen running, it will give us away instantly.’

  ‘If we don’t hurry, they’re going to check us, and we’ll be found out anyway.’

  ‘Fuck!’ Silhouette spat in frustration. ‘Let’s go.’ She ducked forward and started to run, hampered slightly by the heavy robes dragging at her legs.

  Claude kept pace, feet slapping the hard, black ground beside her. Edmund’s eyes widened and his body stiffened.

  ‘Don’t let him run out on us!’ Silhouette shouted. ‘He’s ridden. It might be useful.’

  Claude broke into a sprint and cut across the corner while Silhouette ran wide. Edmund bolted as they came for him. Silhouette cursed under her breath. This was the last thing they needed, to be chasing people around while the Guard roamed the streets in packs. Claude was fast and moved along beside Edmund, who turned as if to dart back the other way.

  Silhouette ducked in front of him. ‘Don’t be scared! You’re best off with us. Please, trust me.’

  Edmund grimaced. ‘I don’t understand what’s going on!’

  ‘I know. But I can help, I promise.’ Silhouette ignored the guilty twinge at her words. For all she knew, she might be condemning him to a far worse fate than one he might find for himself.

  Claude grabbed Edmund from behind, clamped the poor man’s arms to his sides. As Edmund drew breath, clearly planning to yell, Silhouette said, ‘Fuck it!’ and punched him square across the point of his jaw. The lowen slumped, out cold.

  Claude grunted as he took the weight. ‘That’s one way.’

  ‘We just don’t have time to fuck about. Come on, the house is just around that corner.’

  Giving up on any last suggestion of caution they hefted Edmund between them and ran again. As they turned the corner, Silhouette prayed to all the gods she didn’t believe in to give them a clear path. A group of four Autarch Guard were walking along the street to their right as they went left, hearts hammering. Don’t turn around, don’t turn around! Silhouette repeated the phrase like a mantra as they moved, craning her neck to watch in case they did. With a gasp of effort and relief they fell into the safehouse and dragged the groggy and murmuring Edmund upstairs.

  Lily met them at the landing, three children hanging from her skirts. ‘Trouble,’ she said shortly.

  Silhouette barked a laugh. ‘No shit! They’re checking Austere out there. There are Guard everywhere.’

  Lily nodded, her face stone-hard. ‘I know. And that’s not the half of it.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Before Lily could reply, Silhouette felt a stirring of magesign from Edmund. ‘Oh no, you don’t!’ she said through clenched teeth. She gathered her energy, used her Kin magic to bind down on Edmund’s aura, to trap his shades within himself and, with them, the ridesprite that was trying to leave as Edmund regained consciousness.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Claude asked.

  ‘His passenger is trying to run, like it did when it left Rowan. I’ve been waiting for it. I think this simple binding magic should hold it.’ She wrestled mentally as Edmund groaned, the sprite trying to slip past her psychic barriers like an eel trying to slip through the holes in a net. The battle was intense but brief and Edmund slumped bonelessly again.

  Lily leaned in for a close look. ‘Is he all right?’

  Silhouette shrugged. ‘He’s out cold. He’ll stay that way till I wake him. Fortunately he has a pretty weak mind in terms of magic, easily controlled. The ridesprite will be trapped in there all the time he’s out.’

  Lily looked at Silhouette, her expression mystified. She didn’t appear to understand a word of Sil’s explanation.

  A man appeared at the door and looked up the stairs. Lily nodded to him. ‘Ya uncle’s here,’ she said to the three children. ‘Off with him, now.’ She looked to Silhouette. ‘We’re all moving our families to the safest places we can.’

  One of the kids began to protest and Lily crouched, awkward with her swollen stomach. ‘Ye have to go with Uncle now, it’s no safe here. Mummy’ll be back for ye soon.’ She kissed each of them and gently pushed them towards the stairs. They went to their uncle as Lily watched with haunted eyes.

  ‘I though that was your first,’ Silhouette said, pointing to Lily’s belly.

  ‘My first?’ Lily was incredulous. ‘I’ve been of breeding age a long time. I’ve two more as well, already at their grandfather’s.’

  Silhouette looked into Lily’s wet eyes. The girl could be early twenties at most, probably not even that. It was hard to tell. ‘I’m sorry, I’m still trying to understand your ways.’

  ‘Their ways,’ Lily spat, nodding vaguely towards the Tower of the Autarch.

  ‘Their father?’ Silhouette asked, dreading the answer.

  Lily winced. ‘The pits. Not long after this one swelled within me. He didn’t …’ She stopped, her throat constricting around further explanation.

  Silhouette stepped forward, took the frail girl into a tight embrace for a moment. How she hated this place.

  Claude tipped Edmund’s face left and right. ‘You just gonna leave him here like this?’

  ‘I guess so, for now. We have precious few advantages. If this guy or this sprite is of any importance, I want to be in control of it.’

  ‘We have more pressing concerns,’ Lily said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Ya friend, Rowan. He’s gone.’

  Silhouette frowned, a subtle dread fluttered in her gut. ‘Gone? Where?’

  Lily raised her hands, palms up. ‘We don’t know. Monty said after Claude left Rowan paced about nervously for a few minutes, muttering to himself. Monty tried to help, offered him tea to settle him. Thought he was worried about ye all out there. But then Rowan pulled on his robes and left. Monty called after him, asked where he was going, but he said nothing and hurried out.’

  ‘And Alex isn’t back yet?’ Silhouette asked.

  Lily shook her head.

  Silhouette looked to Claude, who shrugged, and back to Lily. She suddenly felt terrified and empty. Had everything fallen apart? Her hands began to shake as an impotent rage settled over her. What the fuck did she need to do? And what was Rowan doing? He certainly wasn’t the sort to step up and be helpful or heroic. The other options terrified her more. As her thoughts tumbled over each other, desperately seeking a direction, Duncan burst through the door and up the stairs.

  Another man was w
ith him and Duncan pushed the scared looking fellow forward. ‘Tell them!’

  ‘Tell us what?’ Silhouette asked, her fears solidifying.

  The man opened and closed his mouth, looked at Silhouette and Claude with wide, frightened eyes. Duncan stepped up beside him. ‘His name is Gal. He works in the Tower, and he’s a friend of the resistance. He says Alex has been caught by the Autarch.’

  Silhouette moaned, her shoulders slumped in defeat. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Aye, he described Alex perfectly. Sounds like the Autarch knew he was coming to break out the prisoners and set a trap for him.’

  Silhouette, Claude and Lily all spoke simultaneously. ‘Rowan!’

  ‘Is it really possible?’ Silhouette asked. ‘I mean, he was a craven scumbag, but would he really betray us? To what end?’

  ‘He would,’ Claude said. ‘If he saw some advantage for himself, he would take it. I don’t know what that might be, but what other explanation is there?’

  ‘The … the … Autarch was with another golden man,’ Gal said in a weak voice. ‘He’s small, thin, curly black hair. He wore Austere robes, like you. I didn’t understand why and …’

  Silhouette interrupted him. ‘Definitely Rowan. The fucker!’

  Claude started to pace back and forth. ‘If Alex is caught, everything changes. That means the humans who came before us are still caught as well.’

  ‘Only one,’ Gal whispered.

  ‘What?’

  ‘There’s only one other, as far as I can tell.’

  Silhouette looked at Gal with a hard expression. ‘How do you know that?’

  Gal trembled under her gaze. ‘Well, there were three of them originally. I saw them brought in. But I heard the Guards talking and one of them said the Autarch was losing patience and only had “one of those bastards” left to interrogate. I don’t know what’s happened to the others.’