“I doubt it,” Johan said. “Jayne ... Jayne is the only girl that showed any interest in me and I still don’t know if she’s serious. If she knew the truth ...”
He shook his head, bitterly. “I am so useless,” he said. “I can’t even do anything I want to do!”
“I thought you wanted to work magic,” Elaine said, carefully. “And you are.”
“I’m a freak even when I work magic,” Johan said. “My family was scared of me.”
“They’d be scared of me too,” Elaine admitted. She had never been ambitious, but she’d found herself caught in the centre of a deadly plot that had almost shattered the Empire. “We both change the rules.”
Johan’s eyes narrowed as he looked up at her. “How do you change the rules?”
Elaine swallowed. “It’s a long story,” she said, as she stood up. The mugs of hot chocolate were sitting on the table, waiting for them. “Suffice it to say that I scared as many people as you.”
Johan followed her. “I want to know,” he said. “Please ... tell me what happened.”
Elaine considered, briefly. She had always intended to tell him the truth, but she had no idea how he would react. And yet if she didn’t tell him, he wouldn’t trust her ... not entirely without reason. She knew too much about him, he knew far too little about her. It would become a barrier between them unless she was completely honest.
“Here,” she said, waving one hand over her eyes. The glamour faded and vanished. “Try not to cry out.”
Johan stared at her eyes, but seemed to take them in stride. “What ... what happened to you?”
“It’s a long story,” Elaine repeated, motioning for him to sit down facing her. “And, in truth, I don’t know where to begin.”
She knew she didn’t dare mention the Witch-King, not until she was sure that Johan was untouched by him, but she could tell him the rest. “There was ... an accident in the library,” she said, softly. “I ended up having the contents of every book within the library dumped into my head.”
“I’m surprised it didn’t explode,” Johan commented, lightly. Did he see the darker implications? Elaine couldn’t tell. “What happened then?”
“I learned more about how magic actually works,” Elaine said. “My power levels were unchanged, but I could do a lot more with less. But the person behind the plot – who turned out to be my father – had planned everything; he took the knowledge and used it to attack the city, six months ago. I ... drained the Blight to stop him.”
She had to smile at Johan’s stunned expression. The Blight had been gone before the Conidian Family came to the city, but surely he would have heard legends. It had been impossible for anyone to clear, leaving a part of the city completely unusable ... until Elaine had drained it dry. But the price had been glowing eyes ... and she knew that she’d been lucky. Other magicians might have ended up badly mutilated or even killed.
“So you know everything,” Johan said, thoughtfully. “There’s no point in you reading your own books, is there?”
“Not the ones that were in the library at the time,” Elaine agreed. The contents were burned into her skull, just waiting for her to look for them. “But thankfully that didn’t include non-magical books ... or a handful of magical books that are effectively unique.”
Johan looked down at his hands. “We’re the same, aren’t we?”
Elaine lifted an eyebrow, inviting him to continue.
“Both victims of magical accidents, both ... somewhat unique, both abandoned by our families and both desperate to prove ourselves,” he said. “Isn’t that correct?”
“Maybe not,” Elaine said. “Ambition isn’t really one of my attributes.”
Johan surprised her by laughing. “You’re a Privy Councillor,” he said. “The only promotion you could possibly get is Grand Sorceress.”
“Which would mean trying to fight one or more magicians with much more raw power than I,” Elaine said. She’d improved her protections – even if they hadn’t proved effective against Johan – but she had no illusions about how long they’d last against a skilled magician with power to spare. “And I’m not that stupid.”
“I wanted to prove myself,” Johan reminded her. “And now ... I don’t even know where to begin!”
He frowned. “Did you have people who wanted you dead too?”
“Yes,” Elaine said. “Quite a few.”
There were people, she suspected, who would consider her time at the Great Library imprisonment, even if it was a gilded cage. But Light Spinner had had little choice; Elaine’s knowledge made her a target for any magician who worked out what had happened to her. Given time, they could draw her knowledge out of her mind and then start using it to cast darker spells, spells that had been long-since forgotten by everyone. Apart from Elaine ...
“My father might want me dead,” Johan said. “What do I do about that?”
“I’ve been giving it some thought,” Elaine said, truthfully. “It may be some time before Jamal and his friends have to face trial for their crimes. Their lawyers are busy throwing up objection after objection and they all have to be knocked down, one by one. How would you like to leave the city for a few days?”
She had to smile at the eager expression on Johan’s face. Elaine had never really wanted to travel – she was profoundly unadventurous; the only trip she’d made away from the Golden City hadn’t been entirely of her own volition – but Johan clearly loved the idea. Not that she could blame him, she decided. She’d had the freedom of the city; he’d effectively been a prisoner in his father’s house. He wanted to explore the world.
“I’d love to go,” Johan said. “Where are we going?”
“I think you should have asked that first,” Elaine said, lightly. She grinned at his expression, then leaned back in her chair. “There’s a ... cabin used by the Inquisitors several days journey from here, up in the Western Hills. It’s quite isolated, but also quite comfortable. Or so they say. We can go and use it, I think. It’s isolated enough that we can continue experimenting with your powers without putting others in danger.”
Johan made a face. “Am I really that bad?”
“You can lose control,” Elaine reminded him. “And because your magic is unique, it’s almost impossible for you to stop yourself until it starts to happen. I don’t think you really feel that you’re working magic.”
She thought about reminding him about the damaged or destroyed wards, then decided he probably didn’t need to hear it again. “You’re also a target,” she added. “If someone apart from your father realises that your testimony will help convict those terrorists, they will try to kill you. I think a few days or weeks spent away from the city will do us both good.”
Johan winced. “Can my father kill me?”
Elaine hesitated, scanning her vast reserves of knowledge. The truth was that she simply wasn’t sure. Unlike most magic, the subtle power holding families together didn’t seem to rely on logical rules. Johan had told his father that he wouldn’t be coming back, that he no longer thought of himself as part of the family. Would that be enough to allow the Conidian to have him killed without consequences? Could Johan have been safely killed while he’d been Powerless?
No one really wants to find out the hard way, she thought. And there’s no answer I can give him.
There were hundreds of cautionary tales. Parents who turned on their children, children who murdered their parents ... all of whom came to bad ends. But sometimes there was no punishment ... and the only thing those tales had in common was the fact that the person who committed murder had been badly abused. Family magic could be very powerful – the gods knew that Kane had used it against her – but it could also be very subtle. The punishment might fall tomorrow, or it might fall so late that few would draw a line between cause and effect ...
A thought nagged at her mind, something important. But it refused to make itself clear.
“I do not know,” she admitted. Most magicians – e
ven sorcerers – turned up their nose at family magic. They called it female magic, even though it belonged to both sexes ... just like the high magic they worked in their lofty towers. But it was dangerously unpredictable and thus something to be avoided. “But he isn’t your only enemy.”
“No,” Johan agreed. He looked down at his hands, wrapped around the mug of hot chocolate so tightly that she feared for the mug. “When can we leave?”
He glanced around, suddenly. “Is this place safe?”
“It’s one of the most heavily warded buildings in the Empire,” Elaine assured him. “And no one can get in here without my permission.”
“Good,” Johan said. “But I broke the wards ...”
“Only because what you did was unprecedented,” Elaine said. “Someone else would have to break them down piece by piece and even trying would sound the alert.”
She reached for a piece of paper and dashed off a quick note for Dread. He would have too much else to do, but he could provide them permission to find and use the cabin for a few weeks. Light Spinner probably wouldn’t object either; if Johan was out of the city, threats against his life and demands for access to him would both decrease. She folded the paper, sent it out of the room via the library wards and then wrote a second note for Light Spinner. It would be well to keep the Grand Sorceress informed ...
Johan leaned forward. “When can we leave?” He asked again. “Will I have time to say goodbye to Jayne?”
“I think we’d be better to leave the day after tomorrow,” Elaine said. It would give her time to get permission to leave the city too. There was an Iron Dragon line that ran near the Western Hills, passing through Falconine City, but she wasn’t sure where they would have to go after that. “If nothing else, you will need time to pack.”
“Oh,” Johan said. He frowned. “What would I need?”
“Assume you can’t get anything there,” Elaine ordered. “And that we will be staying there for at least two weeks.”
“Oh,” Johan said, again. “That’s a lot of clothes ...”
He scowled in sudden realisation. “Do you know cleaning charms?”
Elaine smiled at his expression. “Yes, I do,” she said. They were normally taught to new students as exercises in control, but she had a feeling that Johan probably wouldn’t be able to master them. “But we don’t want to have to cast them every day ...”
She stopped as a black-edged envelope drifted into the room. Elaine tore it open, then muttered a curse as she saw the note. Dread was asking her to come at once.
“I have to go,” she said. It was only ten minutes away on foot, but she knew Dread wanted her there as soon as possible. She would have to take the carriage. “You finish up here, then get some sleep.”
“I will,” Johan promised. “Ah ... can I ask Jayne out tomorrow night?”
“If you wish,” Elaine said, “but let me arrange some protection for you both. If she agrees.”
She pulled her long cloak over her robes, checked that her wand was in place, then strode out of the room to where the carriage was waiting. The driver nodded to her as soon as he saw her; he’d once told her that he preferred being on the night shift, even though it was rare for anything to actually happen. Elaine climbed into the carriage and sighed, running through a mental exercise to calm her thoughts. Whatever had happened – and it had to be urgent for Dread to send a message when she could have been safely in bed – would reveal itself soon enough.
Red Street was famous – or infamous – for its forbidden pleasures, both magical and mundane. Daria had often visited, telling Elaine of strange wines and spices from all over the Empire ... and sexual pleasures that had to be experienced to be believed. Elaine had never worked up the nerve to go, until now. The carriage came to a halt in front of a large apartment block, seemingly completely deserted. Indeed, the entire street was deserted.
An Inquisitor waved to her as she climbed out of the carriage, beckoning her to follow him. Elaine obeyed, walking through a door and into a long hallway. She glanced into one room and saw a handful of people sitting there, staring at a cluster of City Guardsmen nervously, then followed the Inquisitor up the stairs and into a small room. It was empty, apart from a gaslight, a bed ... and a dead body. Someone had dumped magician’s robes on top of the corpse.
Dread looked up as she entered. “This is Graham, of House Arndell,” he said. “He was found dead an hour ago. The owner of this ... fine establishment dawdled before calling the Guard.”
“House Arndell,” Elaine muttered. “And we arrested Gavin, of House Arndell, only a few days ago.”
“Indeed,” Dread agreed. “What do you think the cause of death was?”
Elaine examined what she could see of the body. Someone had cut the magician’s throat, presumably with an iron knife. Anything else might have provoked a magical reaction, even if the magician was too distracted to cast any spells. There didn’t seem to be anything else that could have killed him.
“His throat was cut,” she said, shortly. “Is there anything else?”
“Not as far as we have been able to determine,” Dread said, “but the fact that this murder was committed by mundane means is highly significant. Don’t you think?”
“It was a revenge attack,” Elaine said, in understanding. “Someone wanted to strike back at the terrorists and decided to murder the brother of one of them.”
“So it would seem,” Dread agreed. “And here, it would be far too easy to get distracted.”
Elaine nodded, remembering some of her classmates from the Peerless School. They’d gone out every night in search of pleasure and they hadn’t always been subtle about what they’d done to get it. Paying a prostitute would have been one of the more decent things they’d done. If half of the rumours were true, she wouldn’t have blamed the mundane portion of the city’s population for hating every magician they saw.
“So they struck back,” she said. “When is it going to end?”
“The Privy Council will want action,” Dread said, heavily. “But we have nothing to go on, not here. By now, the knife will have been destroyed, along with any traces of this young idiot’s” – he nodded to the body – “blood. Tracking down his killers will be a hard slow process.”
“But you have wide authority,” Elaine said. Inquisitors could use truth spells on mundanes at will, without any pesky legal impediments. After all, anyone who killed a magician was definitely beyond the pale. “Start with everyone here ...?”
“The owner has already confirmed that the victim came here with a girl,” Dread explained, “so she has no idea who the killer was, merely ... that she came, she killed and left without impediment. By now, skin cells will be useless if we try to use them to track her down.”
“I’d suggest informing the Grand Sorceress,” Elaine said, wearily. “There’s nothing else we can do now.”
“They’ll want the city turned upside down to find the killers,” Dread said. They both knew who they were. “But that won’t make life any easier for any of us.”
Elaine scowled. “I’m taking Johan out of the city for a few days,” she explained. Dread might not have received her letter yet. “Is that a good idea?”
“The best,” Dread said. “Hopefully, this will be over by the time you get back.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Admitting mistakes did not come easily to Duncan Conidian.
He’d made a mistake when he’d allowed Johan to be bullied by the rest of his family. He’d made a mistake when he’d treated Jamal like a prince, despite his increasingly unpleasant behaviour. And he’d made another mistake by thinking that it would be easy to mend bridges between himself and his second son. For Duncan, blood was everything; for Johan, it was little more than an awkward relationship with a family of monsters.
The remains of the table lay in front of him. There were spells that could cause that much damage, but they had to be spoken aloud. Johan, on the other hand, seemed to have used his magic
to destroy the table with nary a word. Somehow, he’d managed to develop control of his magic far quicker than even Jamal ... as also evidenced by how quickly and effectively he’d frozen Jolie. The younger boy was still in shock. His despised elder brother shouldn’t have been able to just ... stop him. But Johan had.
Duncan had ordered the rest of the family to their bedrooms, leaving him alone. He had no time for his wife’s perpetual unconcern, or his daughter’s new habit of telling him the truth, no matter how hurtful, but for once he wasn’t sure what to do next. Johan seemed utterly unwilling to meet him halfway – and, indeed, Duncan knew that he had a point. Why should he be loyal? And offering him Marina had been another mistake. Johan had known that he would never have a magical wife, if indeed he was permitted to have a wife at all. A born magician would have jumped at the chance, no matter what Marina thought about it. Johan, on the other hand, had refused her.
There has to be something he wants, Duncan thought, desperately. Deferens, damn him, had been right about one thing. Johan represented a whole new field of study and the people that controlled access would have a chance to make themselves rich and powerful. Who knew how much wealthy mundanes would pay for access to magic? But what can I offer him?
He turned the thought over and over in his mind, but came up with no answer. Johan might not take the vault Duncan had offered him, but if he chose to make use of his new powers he would never lack for money. What else did he even want? Duncan could withdraw his objections to his planned career, but those plans had already been derailed by his sudden development of magic. Johan wouldn’t want to be a Civil Servant when he could be a Court Wizard ...
And if he chooses to enter the Peerless School he can apply for a scholarship if I refuse to pay. Duncan thought, grimly. Or one of the family’s enemies will offer to pay for him.
He opened his mouth to call for Charity – perhaps she could go and talk some sense into her brother – and then closed it again as a maid ran into the room, carrying a black-edged envelope. Duncan took it, noting absently just how shocked the maid seemed by the mess on the floor, and opened it, skimming the letter rapidly. A magician was dead, seemingly killed by a mundane. And it had all the hallmarks, according to the Inquisitors, of a planned assassination.
Bookworm II: The Very Ugly Duckling Page 21