by Ian Whates
Not for the first time, Tom had reason to suspect that the prime master could read minds, as the older man said, "I have agents throughout the city, Tom. I have to, in order to know what people are saying and feeling, whether they're being treated properly or have fallen foul of some bureaucratic misfortune. Ty-gen is one such and Red here is another. But I didn't bring you here just to renew acquaintances. There's somebody I'd very much like you to meet."
A second figure stepped from the shadows behind Red, and all the boy could do was gape.
"Tom, of the Blue Claw, may I introduce you to Senior Arkademic Thomas, of the City Assembly."
"But...it can't be. I saw you..." He found himself unable to say the actual words, but the newcomer said them for him.
"Knifed, killed, pushed from the city's walls?"
Tom's mind was already filling in the gaps. "The Swarbs caught you, didn't they, just like they did me."
"Yes," and Tom realised what a winning smile this young arkademic had.
"And a sorry state he was in too," Red added. "Blood all over his front; didn't even think he was alive at first, but then we found the slightest tremor of a pulse and I called his primeness 'ere straight away."
"I came immediately but even then feared that I was too late," the prime master continued. "I'm no healer, but I was able to trickle a little energy into Thomas's system - not too much, I didn't want to overwhelm that tiny flicker of life, but I hoped it would be enough to sustain, to enable him to hang on until the experts arrived. Apparently it was, but even with the combined efforts of three of the city's finest healers, it was touch and go for a while."
The old man sighed. "I apologise, Tom, for all that I've put you through. At first it was in the hope of flushing Magnus out. I knew the man was a snake and his promotion to the rank of Master would be disastrous for the city, but without proof I couldn't block it, not without causing turmoil. We weren't certain Thomas would survive to bear witness, so I had to leave you vulnerable. When Magnus slipped his man Dewar into the City Below, I knew the plan was working, but then we lost you in all the confusion caused by the Maker. By the time we found you again, at the temple of Thaiss, it was becoming apparent just how big a threat the Maker was, and you seemed to be a focus for him as well."
"So you used me again."
"Yes. I'm sorry. I had no choice."
Tom could see what the prime master meant but still felt disappointed, victimised, as if he simply didn't matter to any of them.
"Until I regained consciousness," Thomas said gently, "you really were the only hope. I'm sorry for what you've been through as a result."
Tom nodded, still not happy at what he was hearing but keeping his resentment to himself.
"I only came round a couple of hours ago," the arkademic then added.
Tom stared at him in amazement. "What? But you look so healthy..."
He smiled again. "Blame the healers for that. Their talent truly is remarkable."
"Indeed," the prime master agreed. "I only wish we had more of them. Now, if you'll excuse us, Thomas and I must pay a visit to a certain senior arkademic and the assembly will be finishing for the day soon. Tom, may I leave you in Red's capable hands for a while?"
"Sure." The request struck Tom as ironic. He only wished that the prime master had asked his permission about some of the other situations he had left him in.
Before they left, Thomas took him to one side and said, "Don't be too harsh on the prime master, Tom, or on any of us. He's a good man, but he has the welfare of the whole city to think of, and that sometimes requires difficult choices."
"I understand," Tom replied, and found that, deep down, he did.
Magnus stared at the figure confronting him, at a loss for words. Finally he spluttered a disbelieving, "Thomas?"
But it couldn't be. He knew beyond any doubt that his former protege was dead, had felt the life drain out of him before pushing him off the wall. This had to be a trick, some device of the prime master's to catch him off his guard.
They wouldn't catch him out that easily. He feigned a delighted smile and stepped towards him. "Thomas, how wonderful. They said you were dead."
The other arkademic took a step back and help out a warning hand. "No closer, Magnus, not after last time."
Thomas's outstretched hand crackled with silver blue energy. Despite all reason pointing to the contrary, Magnus felt increasingly certain that this was indeed Thomas returned from the dead. "How? It's not possible."
"I know," the other assured him, "I can hardly believe it myself, but here we are." Thomas's mouth smiled but the gesture did not reach as high as his eyes, which burned with anger.
Magnus was not about to be thwarted, not now and certainly not by Thomas. He had no intention of facing a trial and submitting to justice. No knives were allowed within the assembly hall but he was a senior arkademic; he didn't need one. He struck without warning, thrusting his hand forward to release a bolt of searing energy.
Nothing happened.
He stood there for a second with fingers splayed, then stared at his palm, uncomprehending.
"The prime master has slapped a negation field on you," Thomas said casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Which, of course, leaves you unable to draw on your power. I, on the other hand," again the blue-tinged fire danced within a cupped palm, "am not so handicapped."
Thomas raised his hand. The blue energy it held intensified until it was almost blinding and suddenly Magnus realised that he would indeed avoid a trial, because a very direct brand of justice was about to be meted out here and now. In Thomas's situation, he would have done exactly the same.
"No, Thomas, please." It couldn't end like this, not after all he had achieved. "For the sake of the friendship we once shared, I'm begging you..."
"Enough, Magnus - I've heard enough! What mercy did you show me? What mercy have you ever shown anyone?" The blue fire continued to swell until it became all-consuming and the older man knew the ball of energy was about to be cast and that it would obliterate him. He cringed away, screwing his eyes tight against the glare and holding up his arms as ineffectual wards.
"You wouldn't, Thomas, not you, surely," he whimpered, all thought of dignity fled.
There was a pause and then a voice said, right by his ear, "No, you're right, Magnus, I wouldn't, and therein lies the difference between us."
Magnus risked opening his eyes. The fire was gone. Through a veil of azure stars he watched Thomas straighten up, turn his back and stride away. He walked across to join a group of figures who now stood blocking the corridor. Magnus recognised among them the white with purple trim of the council guard.
"Ah, Thomas, renewing acquaintances with an old friend, I see," said the foremost of the party.
"Yes, prime master; it seemed only fair."
"You can straighten up now, Magnus," the prime master said. "No one's going to hurt you. Are they, Thomas?"
"Indeed not, prime master, certainly not until after the trial at any rate; though I fear you might need to ask the assembly to nominate a new candidate for ascension." He smiled at Magnus, and this time the expression conveyed real mirth, even in his eyes.
Thankfully, the Blade were not the Kite Guard or even the Watch. They weren't concerned with the niceties of legal requirements and not exactly famous for their form-filling and meticulous adherence to rules and procedures. Once they were given a job they did it, in as effective and straightforward a manner as possible.
Clearly the group who burst in on Dewar and Kat had been sent specifically to deal with the dog master. This fact alone indicated that somebody with a little intelligence was on the case and had made the connection between the devices and the mad canine tinkerer. Once the Blade ascertained that the dog master was dead, they had no use for either him or Kat, so simply let them go.
Kat disappeared almost immediately, which struck the assassin as a very wise course of action. There was a deal of confusion in the wake of a
ll that had happened, enough to keep everybody occupied in different ways. Nobody had the time to notice him as yet, or so he hoped, but Dewar was under no illusions; he knew that this wouldn't last. If somebody of perception was overseeing things down here, the assassin's roll in events would soon be discovered and that would lead to all sorts of awkward questions. He could have risked returning to Magnus but thought better of it. There was a pervading sense that things were starting to unravel and his going back to the Heights would leave a trail straight to the senior arkademic, which the man would hardly thank him for, even if he wasn't yet under suspicion himself. The Blade had been unleashed for goodness sake, what else might be going on in the city? He was not about to wait around until his collar was felt by the suddenly formidable hand of the law. It was true that for once he had fought on the side of the authorities and he could always hope that recent actions might count in his favour if it came to it, but they were unlikely to save him when held against the catalogue of less savoury acts he had performed for Magnus over the years, should those ever come to light.
Thaiburley was Dewar's home and he had no intention of abandoning it, but at the same time knew it was time to disappear. He decided to slip away before anyone realised, to lie low in one of the nearby towns and then, a few months from now, when everything had calmed down, he would ghost back into the city.
Many years ago a foreigner calling himself Dewar arrived in the City Below knowing little about this strange place, and he had built a life here. What he did once, he could do again. Armed with all that he now knew about the under-City, starting over should be comparatively easy. And who knew what the future might bring?
The stairwells were bound to be guarded, which meant his best route out was via the river. He made for the docks, already rehearsing in his head the way in which he would wheedle his way aboard whichever vessel was due to leave soonest. Of course, the script would need to be adjusted according to circumstances; a degree of improvisation was inevitable, but it never hurt to be prepared and a plausible back-story was essential though, at the end of the day, the contents of the heavy purse he carried with him was likely to prove the most persuasive factor in his escape.
"Dewar, isn't it - Senior Arkademic Magnus's man? Fancy meeting you here; are you going somewhere?" The words were spoken calmly, softly, yet they carried across the street with sufficient force to interrupt his train of thought and tear his plans to shreds.
He looked up to see a casually dressed elderly man sitting at a low table outside a tavern, the Twisted Fish. He recognised the name of the place and realised this was the same tavern where a certain bargeman had sipped his last ale the previous evening. He also recognised the speaker, though not his casual attire.
In all honesty, he was more than a little surprised that the man knew who he was. Their previous meetings had been infrequent and he had always been careful to stay in the background, somewhere behind Magnus. "Prime master, is that truly you? What a pleasant surprise." Half of which was true at any rate.
What in Thaiss's name was the man doing here? The City Below was in turmoil and goodness knew what was going on elsewhere, yet here was the most powerful man in all Thaiburley dressed like a pauper and drinking ale outside a lowly tavern. A tavern which just happened to lie in Dewar's path.
"Come, join me." The prime master gestured towards a seat.
How could he possibly refuse such an invite? "I'd be honoured."
The old man chuckled jovially. "I often wander around the City Below incognito, you know. Wonderful way to get a taste of what life's like down here. It's one of the benefits of Thaiburley being so vast, of course; hardly anybody actually knows what I look like, especially here, so far removed from the Heights."
Was the man trying to convince him that this meeting was pure chance? Did he honestly think so little of him? In fact, now that he had recovered from the shock of stumbling across Thaiburley's premier in such humble circumstances, he began to wonder whether the man was here at all. Dewar had seen first-hand what a senior arkademic could do, how much more was a master capable of? It struck him as increasingly likely that this was no more than an image, a conjuring of some sort, intended to delay him until someone more solid could catch up and arrest him.
If this was no more than an insubstantial likeness, there was nothing to prevent him getting up and walking away. And if this was not a projection but the man himself, was he, for all his vaunted abilities, faster than an expertly cast blade? Perhaps now was the time to find out.
Presumably, the prime master was an expert at reading body language, or perhaps even minds, because he said just then, "I do hope you're not going to make this awkward by attempting to leave when I'm so looking forward to our having a little chat."
The smile was as benign as ever, but the sideways glance caused Dewar to look in the same direction, towards where two towering black forms now stood. Dewar's blood ran cold. The Blade. He might take a chance on the prime master being unreal, but he was not about to risk taking any liberties with this pair of demons in human form.
"No need to worry," he assured the other man. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Good!" The prime master smiled anew. "I'm so glad. Now that we're both settled, I was hoping you might help me with a question, a dilemma really, that's troubling me. Specifically, what in the world am I going to do with you, Dewar?"
The assassin could have made one or two suggestions, but he suspected the question was largely rhetorical and, besides, he very much doubted his own ideas would match the prime master's, so chose to stay quiet.
"For years you've been Magnus's right-hand man, doing all the dirty, nasty things behind the scenes which have assisted his rise to power," the prime master said, which confirmed that Dewar's instinctive decision not to return to the Heights had been the right one, if nothing else. "And before that, I understand you were down here, killing and torturing citizens for money and perhaps for pleasure too. All this, and you're not even a native of Thaiburley, but an outsider who has latched onto the city's darker side like a leech and has been busily sucking out a living ever since. By rights I should lock you up and throw away the key. And yet..." Here the man paused and shook his head, still watching Dewar. "And yet in the past few days you have been instrumental in events that have helped to save the City Below from looming disaster; things which were entirely outside the remit that brought you here but you chose to do anyway. A cynic might even be tempted to wonder whether you saw which way the wind was blowing before anybody else and did these things in a last-ditch attempt to redeem yourself. But I don't see how that's possible. After all, when you left the Heights, your employer's star still appeared to be in the ascendant. Which suggests, unlikely though it may seem, that you actually chose to do the right thing when it mattered most."
Dewar listened intently, remaining silent even when the prime master paused, sensing that a wrong word now could do his cause irreparable harm. Besides, the old man had already stated his case for him.
"Some punishment does seem to be in order, of course, but what? You can't stay here in Thaiburley, not as a free man. I could never allow somebody of your talents and evident predilections to remain at liberty in the city, not unless you were actually working for me so that I could keep a close eye on you." Dewar came immediately alert. Was that an offer? "Unfortunately, for you, I don't operate in the same way the senior arkademic has been doing, so would have no need of the type of services you provide."
Evidently not. Unless...
Dewar drew a slow, deep breath. Now was the time to speak, and he knew full well that what he said here might just prove to be the most important words of his life.
Tylus was shocked and horrified to learn of Magnus's downfall and what he was guilty of. The news left him more than a little concerned about his own position. After all, he was only here at all on the senior arkademic's authority. A summons to meet the prime master did little to settle his nerves; quite the contrary, he felt entirely intimidat
ed by the prospect of an audience with the man, not certain whether to anticipate congratulation or castigation. He remembered the disbelief he had felt when summoned to see the now disgraced senior arkademic, and this was even worse despite his newfound confidence.
The chosen setting for the interview, in a temple of Thaiss, would have struck him as bizarre at any other time, but its strangeness slipped away almost unnoticed under the circumstances.
He had seen the prime master from a distance several times before, at ceremonies and events, and his likeness was known throughout the Heights, but this was the first time Tylus had actually met him. His first impression was that the man was older and shorter than memory painted him, but this was quickly overshadowed by the sense of kindness and warmth which the man projected.
A temple acolyte served them chilled fruit juice and they sat with no table between them and almost facing each other, though the chairs were off-centre and slightly angled, as if to emphasise the informality of the occasion.
"You seem to like it here in the City Below, Kite Guard," the prime master said.
The observation surprised Tylus. He thought about it and was forced to admit, "Yes, I suppose I do."
"Certainly you've performed admirably since being assigned here, albeit the assignment was not all it seemed."
"Thank you, sir." He didn't know what else to say.
"Tell me something - and I should add that this little chat is strictly off the record - you've had a taste of life on the streets now. Looking at the Kite Guard, with the benefit of your experience here, do you think that perhaps the guard has grown a bit complacent, even a little soft, over the years?"
Caught off guard again, Tylus blinked, wondering how best to reply. "I think, sir," he said carefully, "that much of the training we undergo is of the highest order and that, as a result, today's guard is well prepared in many respects, but..." He hesitated, uncertain how best to continue.
"But you think that as individuals, the guard might benefit from spending a little time down here, in the streets? Learning about the harshness that life can bring to those less fortunate than themselves," the prime master said.