The Mage War

by Ben S. Dobson

  “Everyone?” asked Lady Abena. “How many will it take?”

  “As many as we can get,” said Tane. “The more we gather together, the longer they all have. If I’m right about this, the ships in the blockade should buy us a bit of time. They’re packed full of crew and soldiers. But we need more. There are thousands of people in Porthaven—that’s our best hope. Indree and her people are there already. They can spread the word, bring everyone together at the waterfront. We’ll have to head for shore to meet them. Every ship, no matter the flag. I don’t think Endo will risk weakening his blockade to send his ships or his dragon after us if we’re not trying to escape the spell’s reach. He’d rather have us trapped, even if it means he has to wait a little longer. He might send people to try to disperse a gathering, but that’s just more for the siphon to test, as long as we can hold them off.”

  The Lady Protector glanced up at the airships and the dragon blocking the harbor-mouth. “Are you sure, Mister Carver? If we do this, we’re giving up any chance we might have of fighting our way clear. We don’t have time for both.”

  “Of course I’m not sure,” Tane said, more sharply than was probably wise, considering his audience. “Not remotely. This is pure theory. I’ve studied the siphon, but it isn’t as if I had the resources to do much practical testing. I’ve been on the run from the law, if you’ll recall. All I can say is that it might give us a chance. A chance we’re not going to get if we go the other way.”

  Lady Abena didn’t seem to register his tone, just considered the words and gave a single nod. “Very well. I don’t see a better option.” She looked to the big Mageblade beside her. “Get word to all Audish ships. Withdraw to the shore immediately.” And then, to the Rhienni captain, “We need to do the same.”

  The captain didn’t object—with Ambassador Anelle dead and half his crew incapacitated, he was apparently a wise enough man to recognize the appropriate authority. “Yes, Your Ladyship,” he said, and moved for the ship’s bridge.

  “I’ll start gathering people up,” Indree sent. “We’ll be waiting when you get to shore.” The pressure ended in Tane’s ears.

  “You’ll trap yourselves here.” Gerrolt didn’t look angry now, just frightened. “As you said, we don’t have time to try both options. Between us we have some three dozen ships, against three airships and a dragon. Surely if we join forces we can—”

  “I have made my decision,” Lady Abena interrupted. “Hesitation now will doom any plan to failure. I would prefer you join us—as Mister Carver says, numbers are key. But you are not prisoners. You are free to return to your ships and do as you will.”

  “How benevolent,” the High Provost said coldly. “Do not think you have won. The Sun Lord will see you answer for this treachery yet.” And then, with a final scowl at Tane and Kadka, she led her party across the deck, toward the Estian cutters that waited on the starboard side.

  Gerrolt though, hesitated in the face of Lady Abena’s apparent conviction. He looked to Klenn, and then up at the dragon and the airships hovering over the blockade. At last, he turned away. “Get everyone aboard the boats! We have no time to waste!” He marched away, snapping orders to his guards.

  Henred Klenn hung back, though, even after the others had gone. “I will try to convince him.” He was looking at Kadka, though the Lady Protector stood right beside her.

  “If you don’t, maybe you are all riven,” Kadka said. “Is… better if you make him listen.”

  Klenn looked as if he wanted to say more, but he only nodded, once, and then turned to follow his cousin away.

  “We must hope that they will see reason,” said Lady Abena. “But whether they do or not, it does not change what must be done. There are arrangements that require my attention, if we are to make this work. People ashore that must be contacted and informed. I will gather my Mageblades and activate our standing army to come to Indree’s aid.”

  “It will take more than that,” Tane said. “All the stalling in the world won’t save us forever. We still need to do something with whatever time this buys us. Stop the siphon somehow. Which means getting to Endo, who is on an airship with a dragon protecting him. And I’ve used up all my good ideas.”

  “Is this all?” Kadka, despite everything, grinned just slightly at the corner of her mouth. “You forget, Carver. We have dragons too.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  _____

  TINGA PEERED OUT at the Porthaven street through the narrow crack allowed by the chain on the Magebreakers’ office door.

  A party of eight black-clad and cowled figures strode by outside, led by a nine-foot tall ogren. “Stay in your homes, by the Emperor’s command!” the huge figure intoned in a deep, sonorous voice.

  Down the street in either direction, more Knights of the Emperor were herding people inside, keeping the streets clear. It hadn’t been more than a few minutes since Endo’s voice had spoken from the sky, and already there were dozens of them. No violence yet, but no one had actually tried to fight back yet, either, at least not that Tinga had seen. This close to the waterfront, the siphon was in full effect—more than enough to cow any resistance.

  “They’re not actually doing anything,” Tinga said, glancing over her shoulder at Cestra. “Just telling people to stay inside. I thought they’d start rounding up non-magicals or something.”

  “Why would they bother?” said Cestra. “Most of us don’t have one of these.” She touched the talisman attached to her shoulder, its diamond aglow with inner light. “And the bluecaps are on their side, so they don’t think any authorities are coming to help us. As far as they know, all they have to do is wait it out and let the spell do its work.”

  “They’re in for a surprise, then.” Tinga reached into her pocket and drew out the sending locket Indree had given her. “I need to tell Indree. Keep an eye on the street. Let me know if anyone gets too close.” She crossed the room to Tane’s desk, and took a seat behind it.

  The office had been thoroughly searched at some point, and nothing had been put back in its place. Every desk drawer had been left open, files and magical diagrams were strewn everywhere, and the folding screen in the back had fallen across the mattress it was intended to hide. But it had been several months now since the attack in Belgrier, and apparently no one cared to watch over the place any longer, or do much to secure it. There hadn’t been anyone on guard, and Tinga’s key had still worked.

  More importantly, Tane’s wards were still in place. Currently deactivated, but intact. The cupboard on the right side of his desk contained the gems and glyphs. If any of Endo’s knights tried to get inside, all Tinga had to do was flip a switch to keep them out. And Indree had given her stern orders to do just that at the first sign of trouble. She and Cestra had been sent—along with several Silver Dawn agents stationed in other locations—to keep an eye on the streets and report back, not to engage directly with the Knights of the Emperor.

  Tinga squeezed the locket, and a moment later, felt a brief sense of pressure in her ears as the sending channel opened.

  “What is it, Tinga?” Indree sounded preoccupied. It wasn’t hard to guess why.

  “We’ve got Knights of the Emperor in the street around the office. They’re not attacking so far, just keeping people inside. Cestra figures they plan to just wait out the siphon.”

  “Spellfire,” Indree swore. “It’s worse than just waiting it out. Tane says the siphon might have trouble dealing with a large crowd in one place, something in the hundreds or thousands. It could slow it down. We’re going to gather as many people as we can by the waterfront. Sounds like Endo knew we might try, and planned to head it off.”

  Tinga swore under her breath, but kept it out of the sending. She liked Indree, even trusted her, but watching her mouth around bluecaps—even former ones—was instinct. Growing up in Greenstone, she’d seen too often how badly any sign of disrespect could go, real or imagined. “Maybe that’s a good sign. If he’s trying to stop it, he must think
bringing everyone together could work, right?”

  “Could be,” said Indree. “Let’s hope so. Tinga, you and Cestra need to get out of there. Your talismans will give you time to escape the radius. Wait in the office until you have a clear path and then head for the Silver Dawn tunnels. If someone tries to get in first and traps you in there, just keep the wards up and use the locket. I’ll send help.”

  “What about everyone else in Porthaven? We can’t let Endo just… drain the life out of them while they sit in their houses.”

  “I’m handling it,” answered Indree. “I’m going to close this channel. If Endo’s knights are ready for us, I have to send to everyone I can muster and get them down there to fight back. You two make a break for it as soon as you get a chance.”

  “Fine.” Tinga didn’t see any point in arguing—Indree clearly had more important things to worry about. “Good luck.”

  “You too.” The sending pressure abated, and Indree was gone.

  Tinga hopped to her feet. “Cestra. Is the street clear?”

  Cestra looked back at her. “They’re still out there, but not too close. We could probably slip by. What did Indree say?”

  “That it might slow down the siphon if we can get as many people as possible together in the same place. Hundreds or thousands, not just a handful.” Tinga crossed the room, joined Cestra by the door. “That’s why Endo’s trying to keep them penned in. Indree’s on her way, but in Belgrier the siphon worked fast. The sooner we get the word out, the better. We need to get all of Porthaven to the waterfront, get them fighting back.”

  Cestra cocked an eyebrow. “That’s what she told you to do, is it?”

  “Well, I might have read between the lines.” Tinga grinned ruefully. “But I like to think she knew in her heart that we weren’t going to run away from this.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled when she finds out,” Cestra said. She took a deep breath, and then nodded. “I’m in. How do we do this?”

  Tinga shrugged. “I suppose we just… try to tell as many people as possible, ask them to spread the word. Maybe we can help them get around the knights. Use the Silver Dawn tunnels. Whatever works. All I know is we’re no use if we’re not out there.”

  “Right.” Cestra peeked out through the crack in the door one more time. “I think we can make it to the alley if we move now.”

  “Let’s go, then.”

  Tinga went first, opening the door only as much as was necessary to slip out. Black-clad figures were moving along the street on either side, but there was a gap. Toward the waterfront, the ogren she’d seen earlier was busy trying to force a kobold couple back into their house; in the other direction, the patrol was moving further into Porthaven, their backs to the Magebreakers’ office. Enough space to slip by, if she was quick and no one turned their head at the wrong moment. Which wasn’t exactly unlikely. They’re on the lookout for people doing exactly what we’re doing.

  But she was out in the open now, and just standing there was a sure way to be noticed.

  With Cestra on her heels, Tinga darted up the road and into the alley a few houses down to her right—the nearest access to the Silver Dawn’s tunnels.

  “Hey!” A voice from behind, outside the alley.

  Spellfire. Someone had seen them.

  “Run,” Tinga whispered sharply. She sprinted for the metal panel that led down into the tunnels.

  She saw the silver shimmer in the air just before she hit it—a shield, cast across the alley from one wall to the other. Tinga skidded to a halt, swivelled on her heel, grabbed Cestra before she could hit the barrier. Together, they looked to the mouth of the alley.

  A black-cowled figure stood there, blocking the way out. An elven woman, by the height and slender build, the suggestion of pointed ears outlined by her cowl. “Where do you think you’re going, greenskin? You’re supposed to be inside.” She approached with a steady, unhurried pace, and she glanced from Tinga to Cestra. “And a human girl, clinging to a goblin like that? Have some self-respect.”

  “We’re just going home!” Cestra lied. “It’s just down here. Please, let us go.”

  The elf snorted. “You share a home, too, do you? This really is a slum. The problem is, you should both be there already. We’ve given you more than enough time. I can’t just let you get away with disobeying the Emperor’s command, can I? That would set a bad precedent.” Tinga recognized the tone, that cruel amusement. This woman was just another bully, looking for someone to hurt.

  Which made her exactly the sort of person Tinga preferred not to be trapped in an alley with. And she’s got magic on her side.

  “Back off,” Tinga said. She took Cestra’s hand, squeezed it tight. “Or you’ll be sorry.” An entirely empty threat, but she wasn’t going to beg. That would only make it worse.

  The elf kept coming. “You’ve got spirit, don’t you? More than a toad like you ought to have, right now.” Her cowl shifted slightly as her attention moved to the glowing talisman embedded in Tinga’s shoulder. “What is that? Hand it over. Now.”

  “No,” said Tinga. “Come take it if you want it.” She and Cestra backed away until the shield stopped them.

  “If you insist.” The elf muttered in the lingua, and silver cords lashed from her fingers, coiled around Tinga’s wrists and ankles, lifted her from her feet.

  “Tinga!” Cestra shouted as their hands were yanked apart. She grasped a handful of Tinga’s shirt, but the elf’s spell grabbed her next, pinning her against the shield beside Tinga.

  And now the cowled woman closed the distance, almost leisurely. “You shouldn’t have resisted. That’s going to make things worse for you. Now let’s have a look at this.” She reached up for Tinga’s shoulder. Her fingers grazed the talisman.

  From somewhere behind Tinga, a gruff voice uttered a few short syllables in the lingua. A wave of silver force erupted through the shield, passing around her and Cestra as if they weren’t there. It struck the elf full in the chest, hurled her back several yards. She landed in a heap on the ground.

  Tinga craned her head back, trying to see. Behind her, a dwarf in a long coat was striding down the alley toward them. An old burn scar ran up the left side of his jaw, parting his short brown beard. The left sleeve of his coat was empty; it hung over his shoulder on that side, hiding his arm.

  Lefty Lodestone stepped through the shield as if it was nothing. “Stay down,” he snapped at the elf.

  She lifted her cowled head, hissed a curse, and started pushing herself up, muttering words of magic.

  Lefty uttered his own spell faster, and a flash of Astral force propelled him forward in a leaping rush. He shrugged his left shoulder free of his coat at the same time, lifting the brass fist of his artifact arm high and bringing it down hard. It struck the woman’s cheek with a loud crunch. She went down, and didn’t get back up.

  The magic holding Tinga and Cestra failed, and they fell the short distance to the ground. Tinga drew Cestra back, putting a bit more distance between them and the dwarf. Nothing stopped her; the magical barrier was gone too. They could run if they had to. “Lefty? What in the Astra? How did you get through her shield?”

  “Set to keep you in, not me out. Magic does what it’s told.” He made no move toward them. “Get out of here, kid. This place is trouble right now.”

  Tinga stuck out her jaw. “We’re not going anywhere.”

  “Thought you’d say somethin’ like that. Can’t say I didn’t try.” He turned away.

  “Wait.” Cestra took a step forward, despite Tinga’s best attempt to hold her back. “What are you doing lurking around here to begin with?”

  Lefty paused, but didn’t look back. “I was… drinkin’ nearby. Heard some noise on my way out.”

  “Drinking in the alley beside the Magebreakers’ office?” Cestra shook her head. “No. I think you were watching, hoping to find Tane and Kadka. Maybe Tane was right about you. You figured enough about what was happening that you couldn’t walk a
way.”

  Lefty glanced over his shoulder with a snort. “I happened by. Lucky chance. Don’t make it somethin’ it ain’t.”

  “What are you doing, Cestra?” Tinga frowned. “Let him go if he wants to. We don’t—”

  “Need him? I’m sorry, Tinga, but we do. I know you don’t like him, and you’ve got good reason not to. But if you and I are going up against a bunch of mages, we need help. He’s coming with us.”

  “What?” Lefty turned to face them, scowled. “No I ain’t.”

  Tinga shot her girlfriend a short glare, and then sighed. “Ugh. Why do you have to be so right?” She turned to Lefty, put her hands on her hips. “If you weren’t going to help, we both know you’d already be gone. So stop pretending you don’t care, shut up, and follow us. We’re wasting time.”

  Lefty actually looked a little bit impressed at that. “Let’s say I do. What am I helpin’ with? There’s a lot more of them than us. Can’t exactly fight ‘em all.”

  “No,” Tinga admitted. “But they’re trying to keep people apart. The siphon works better that way. Which means we need to do whatever we can to bring them together.”

  Before Lefty could answer, a cry came from somewhere behind Tinga, down the alley and toward the waterfront. “Someone, please! Help!”