Johan looked mutinous. Elaine wasn’t surprised. The soup might have tasted nice before the potions had been added, but few potions really tasted good. Her tutor had used to say that potions were addictive and anything that discouraged people from taking them was a good idea. It made sense ... and besides, nicer-tasting potions required more expensive ingredients.
“Drink it,” she urged. “You need energy more than anything else right now.”
To set a good example, she took her own bowl and began to sip it, while quietly continuing to examine the wards. Johan hadn’t even been breathing hard when his spell had finally been cancelled, suggesting vast magical power. He’d been tired, sure, but how much of that had been the magic and how much his general lack of food? And the spell had clearly gone out of control. That was unusual. One of the reasons the light spell was used as a teaching tool was because it was very hard to lose control of it. Even the rawest student should have been able to do it.
But Johan’s spell had produced heat as well as a blinding light.
She raised a hand and touched her cheek, wincing slightly at the pain. It must be what sunburn felt like, she told herself grimly; if she’d been looking right at it, she might well have been seriously hurt, despite her protections. A quick check revealed that some of her protections had been damaged too, accidentally. If Johan had meant her harm, he might have been able to burn right through her protections, no matter how subtle they were. The results would have been disastrous.
“I’m sorry,” Johan said, meekly. His eyes were watching her. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
That was a good sign, Elaine told herself. The more powerful the magician, the harder it was for them to care about the lesser magicians, let alone the mundanes. Millicent had been completely heartless until Kane had broken her mind; the gods alone knew if she would ever recover completely. She seemed normal, until she broke down and started crying for no apparent reason. Even the most advanced medical magic couldn’t heal a damaged mind.
“Accidents happen,” Elaine said. “We’re just going to have to work on how much power you put into your spells.”
She finished her soup and started on the main meal, a serving of chicken and rice in a spicy sauce. Johan hesitated, then joined her, eating with more enthusiasm as he realised that the meal was actually very good. Elaine watched him eat, wondering just how much magic he had. There had been more than one odd thing about the spell he’d cast.
“Tell me about your family,” she said, as she finished her dish. “What are they like?”
Johan made a face. “My father is strict; my mother is more concerned with being a social climber than with her family,” he admitted. “My siblings are horrors – apart from Charity, I think, and even she can be a horror at times. The cooks and maids pitied me or looked down on me. Is it any wonder I wanted to leave?”
Elaine nodded in sympathy. She’d grown up at the orphanage – her guardian would hardly have taken her into his home – and had never known her family. Discovering who her father had actually been had convinced her that there were worse things than growing up without a mother or father. But it was clear that Johan’s parents hadn’t done anything about the abuse their son was frequently subjected to by his siblings.
The thought made her twist up her face in frustration. There were so many different cultures within the Empire that there were no laws that dictated how one should bring up a child. It was disconcerting to realise that her upbringing hadn’t been the worst in the Empire, not when there were places where men were brought up in military camps and others where women were taught to be submissive, slaves in all but name. By the Empire’s standards, Johan’s father could raise his children however he wished and no one could object, no matter how despicable he became.
She shivered. Millicent had talked, late at night in the dorms, about how she’d had her first lessons beaten into her. It hadn’t been until much later that Elaine had realised that she’d been telling the truth.
“I don’t blame you,” Elaine said. She hesitated, then pressed on. “If you don’t want to go back, you don’t have to go back.”
Johan’s face twisted. He was too young to hide his inner conflict, not from her.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, finally. “I just don’t know.”
Elaine could understand that. The desire to prove himself, combined with a desire to reject everything his family stood for. She’d spent too long trying to prove herself to her Guardian before deciding that it was better not to try to amuse such an uncaring audience. And then he’d sold her out to Kane. The man had long since fled the Golden City ahead of a baying horde of creditors who wanted his blood.
She finished her dinner and put the plate to one side. “I want you to get some rest,” she ordered, firmly. “You need to sleep properly before you start drawing on your magic.”
Johan scowled at her. “I want to try something else,” he said. “She taught me a few more spells ...”
“You could drain yourself too deeply,” Elaine warned. It was true, but only one of her concerns. If a light spell could damage the wards around the room, she needed to carry out further tests in a much more heavily warded chamber. She might even need to borrow a compartment in the Inquisitor Training Centre. “Get some proper sleep, then we can carry out more tests in the morning. I can find you a sleeping potion if you would like ...”
“Please,” Johan said, as he finished his own dinner. “But I really hate their taste.”
Elaine took his plate, then cast a summoning spell in the air. A moment later, a small potions bottle drifted out of a cupboard and floated over to them. Elaine picked it out of the air and passed it to him. Johan took it and drank, complaining that it was disgusting. A moment later, he yawned violently and slumped over in bed. Elaine gently tucked him in, then stepped backwards and cast another series of diagnostic charms. Once again, the results were unique; the magic flowing through Johan’s brain didn’t seem to have changed, even though he’d drawn on his new power to cast the light spell.
Odd, Elaine thought. Very odd.
Everyone knew that magic was a muscle, one that had to be flexed carefully as a magician grew up, developing the channels in his or her mind for the magic to flow freely out into the world. Elaine well remembered exhausting herself after casting one or two spells, despite the best efforts of the Peerless School. Even now, there were limitations to her abilities, no matter how much she knew. But a powerful magician, like Light Spinner, wouldn’t have drained their magic at all to cast the light spell.
And Johan didn’t seem drained either.
It makes no sense, Elaine told herself, in frustration. If he’d had so much power, it should have burst out much sooner – and he wouldn’t have had to grow up as a Powerless. But if he hadn’t had power until a freak accident had given him power, surely he should have started off with a low level of magic until he’d learned to grow and develop his power? On the face of it, he seemed to have been gifted with power to match the Grand Sorceress, without having to go through all the training and development Light Spinner had endured. And it still didn’t make sense.
Shaking her head, she stepped well clear of the bed and started to add her own wards to the room. If one good thing had come out of the crisis, it saved her the job of dismantling the hospital’s wards and then rebuilding them with her own additions. Instead, she added a simple watch-ward – parents used it to ensure that their children were safe in bed – and a security ward. One would inform her if Johan awoke, although as he’d drunk the whole bottle of potion he should remain asleep until the following morning. The other would alert her if someone tried to enter the room without her permission.
And someone would, Elaine was sure. If word got out, if people realised the truth, they would want to get their hands on him. Either out of hope that the freak accident could be duplicated ... or out of determination to ensure that it couldn’t be duplicated. If one could turn a mundane – or a Powerless – into a
magician to rival the Grand Sorceress, it would turn the world upside down. Elaine honestly wasn’t sure which way she would jump. If Light Spinner had been determined to keep Elaine where she could be watched, what would she make of Johan?
She was still musing when she reached the receptionist, who looked harassed after two days without proper sleep. The hospital had been besieged by the friends and relatives of those who had been caught up in the rally, which had apparently included a number of innocent bystanders. Elaine had been busy, but she had heard that none of the perpetrators had been caught and the entire city was on edge. Bullying by magicians was nothing new, yet this was on a terrifying scale.
“I need the name of the druid who attended the Conidian Family, two days ago,” Elaine said. The bureaucrats who ran the hospital had a mania for keeping records that impressed even Elaine, who had trained as a librarian as well as a magician. Even if the files were sealed, they would be available to a Privy Councillor. “Please can you find it for me?”
The receptionist nodded and turned away, busying herself with the files. “Druid Zacharias,” she said, after a long moment. “He didn’t file anything other than a note he visited at the Conidian’s request.”
Elaine took the file, and directions to the druid’s office, then left the receptionist behind and walked down the long corridor. By tradition, every druid was supposed to live in the hospital, but some of the richer and older ones scorned that rule, choosing to live out in the city. Thankfully, Zacharias seemed to be one of the more traditional ones. A quick glimpse at the file noted that he was particularly focused on helping young children to develop their magic. That made a certain kind of sense.
She tapped on his door, unable to fight down a hint of déjà vu. It hadn’t been that long since she’d been here herself, taking her first steps towards becoming a magician. Part of her wondered what would have happened if her magic had developed earlier, part of her knew better than to think it would have made any difference. Or perhaps it would have, if she’d still been young enough to adopt. There were plenty of magical bloodlines that would have adopted a magical child, even one of unknown origin.
“Good afternoon,” she said, as she saw the druid behind his desk. He looked younger than she had expected, younger and hungry for success. No doubt the Conidian had offered him a substantial sum if Johan should happen to develop magic, enough to set him up in a private practice. Had something he’d tried actually worked? “I need to talk to you about Johan Conidian.”
Zacharias frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything without the permission of his father,” he started. “I ...”
Elaine sighed and tapped her robes meaningfully.
“A tragic tale, simply tragic,” Zacharias said, switching tune without missing a beat. “His father and mother both powerful, their son as powerless as any mundane. I tested him over the last three years and found nothing, not even a trace of magic. His siblings were all astonishingly powerful for their age; him? Absolutely nothing at all. His father was always pushing at me to invent new tests, or to try new treatments, but it was hopeless. I only did it to humour him.”
“I see,” Elaine said, disapprovingly. “Precisely what treatments did you try?”
“Magic exposure, forced transfiguration, charged potions, even hypnotic spells,” Zacharias admitted. “I could use all of them to help a spark of magic become a flame, but there was absolutely no result.”
Elaine sighed. At least he hadn’t tried anything truly dangerous – or illegal – but it was still pointless. The treatments would have not only been futile, but humiliating. And as he said, without a spark of magic they wouldn’t have worked at all. If his client hadn’t insisted so strongly, Zacharias wouldn’t have tried them in the first place. It was just a waste of time and expensive potions.
“But you found nothing,” she mused. A thought struck her and she leaned forward. “I suppose there’s no chance he’s a bastard?”
“His father ran all sorts of tests, apparently,” Zacharias said. He grinned, rather unpleasantly. “Johan is very definitely Duncan’s son, My Lady. Even a blood-rite adoption would leave some trace, some clue that Johan wasn’t his natural son. Everything came up white.”
“And a blood-rite couldn’t be carried out without the full knowledge and agreement of the parents,” Elaine said. She’d looked them up, back when she’d dared hope that a kindly couple would take her from the orphanage. Giving up her vanished father’s blood would have been a small price to pay for actual parents. “Was there anything else odd about him? Or the conditions of his birth?”
“Nothing that I was able to trace,” Zacharias said, after a long moment. “Madame Conidian was never a dueller, or anything other than a society butterfly. If she was ever cursed, there was never any trace of it in her body – and I ran the most extensive tests possible. And all of her other children are strongly magical. The Conidian has a more ... dubious medical history, but nothing that should have caused one of his children to be born a Powerless.”
He looked up from the stack of paperwork in front of him. “Is there a reason behind these questions?”
“Johan was at the rally two days ago,” Elaine said, which was technically accurate. Few had known that House Conidian had birthed a Powerless; Elaine certainly hadn’t known, which would – she hoped – account for her interests. The druid’s oaths should keep him from telling the world. “The druids ended up taking a look at him.”
She shook her head. The rest of the story was better kept a secret, for the moment. Light Spinner would decide who was to be told – and when. And Dread would have to interview Johan just to get evidence against his brother. That wouldn’t be easy for the young man, but Jamal Conidian needed to be brought to justice. The city was on a knife-edge and would remain that way as long as the perpetrators remained unidentified.
“I need your file on him,” she said, shortly. He rustled through his filing cabinet, then produced a large file which he passed to her reluctantly. Elaine took it, glanced at the cover, then filled out a formal receipt. The bureaucrats wouldn’t be pleased with either of them if the file went missing. “And thank you.”
Leaving the office, she dashed out a quick note to Lady Light Spinner, explaining what had happened, and then a second one to Dread asking him to interview Johan as quickly as possible. And then she headed back to his room, where she would rest until he woke up. No doubt he would be eager to test his new magic ...
And, Elaine realised, so was she. This was something new, something she hadn’t had crammed into her mind. There was a chance to perform genuinely original research ...
She just hoped it didn’t end up coming back to haunt them.
Chapter Eight
When Johan opened his eyes, he thought that it had just been a dream. He’d dreamed of having magic so often that it hurt when he returned to the real world and discovered that he was still a Powerless. But this time, he found himself still in the hospital room with a grim-faced Inquisitor sitting next to him, studying him through cold dispassionate eyes. It was real!
“I need to take your statement about your brother’s involvement in the recent affray,” the Inquisitor said, without introducing himself. It was difficult to be sure, but it looked as though he had not slept in days. “Starting with ... what exactly happened that day?”
Johan hesitated. Betraying his brother so casually caused him a pang, but his brother had been thoroughly horrible to him for all of his life ... and he had caused at least nineteen deaths. He couldn’t remember the rest of the figures that Elaine had quoted at him, yet it had been far worse than any of his other pranks and carried out on helpless victims. He took a breath and started to explain what had happened.
It took longer than he had assumed, for the Inquisitor was a skilful interrogator. Whenever something wasn’t entirely clear, he went over it again and again until he had drawn every last detail out of Johan’s mouth. The experience left him with a pounding headache by the ti
me the Inquisitor stood up, revealing Elaine standing by the door with a worried expression on her face. Johan could have kicked himself. He’d been so focused on the Inquisitor’s inquisition that he hadn’t even noticed that she was there.
“Thank you for your cooperation,” the Inquisitor said, tightly. His stony expression didn’t change as he headed towards the door. “You will be informed if more testimony is required.”
Elaine shut the door behind the Inquisitor, then walked over to the bed. “I’m sorry about that,” she said, as she sat down facing him. “But your testimony was required urgently.”
Johan scowled. “Why?”
“None of the other witnesses saw anything,” Elaine said. She paused, then continued. “Nothing useful, at any rate. The attackers disguised their faces; you were the only one to see them properly and only then because Jamal identified himself to you. Glamours don’t usually stand up to such exposure. Without you, proving that Jamal was there would have been tricky.”
“Good thing I was there,” Johan said, although he wasn’t so sure if telling them everything had been a good idea. Part of him was still scared of his brother, the brother who had once openly threatened to kill him on the grounds his mere existence brought shame to the family. But, for once in his life, Jamal wasn’t going to get away with something. It was worth the headache to see him face justice. “What are we going to do today?”
“Experiment with your magic,” Elaine said, standing up. “We’re not going to do it here, though.”
She walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a set of clothes. Johan blinked in surprise as he realised that they were apprentice robes, normally only issued to magicians who apprenticed themselves to an older magician for individual tutoring. Unlike the drab robes worn by students, they were bright blue with a dark sash running around the waist. He took them when she handed them to him and examined them carefully. There was even a holster for his wand! But he had none ...
Bookworm II: The Very Ugly Duckling Page 7