It wouldn’t, Elaine realised, bitterly. Johan is threatening to shatter the very foundations of our society.
She looked up at the other Inquisitor. “What about the rest of the family?”
“Still inside the house, we assume,” the Inquisitor said. He seemed doubtful about answering Elaine’s questions, but Dread nodded impatiently, convincing him to talk. “The only person to emerge was this ... puppet.”
He indicated Duncan Conidian. Elaine shivered, remembering just how badly Johan had been treated by his siblings. In hindsight, it was a miracle that he hadn’t gone completely mad with power the moment he’d realised he had it. Now ... with his friend presumed dead, he could torture his family in any way that pleased him. It was possible, she told herself, that the remainder of the family had been out of the house, but she knew it was unlikely. Most students wouldn’t have climbed out of bed until the sun was higher in the sky.
She reached into her pocket and touched the vial of blood. She’d planned to destroy it, once they’d sworn their oaths; the handful of charms she’d cast on the blood had revealed nothing of any significance. But it did suggest something else ...
Elaine closed her eyes, thinking it through. Johan’s magic was very good at dealing with direct threats. He could just imagine himself surrounded by an unbreakable barrier and he would be, at least until his concentration slipped. But there were more subtle forms of magic ... she considered the spells, one by one, then dismissed them. Johan deserved better from her than to be struck down by a cowardly spell. She needed to try to talk him down.
“I’m going to get in there,” she said, shortly. “Someone has to talk sense into his head.”
Dread gave her a long considering look. “You do realise that he may think that you’re someone pretending to be you?”
The other Inquisitor had a different objection. “The house is heavily warded,” he said. “We would need hours to break through the wards.”
Elaine wasn’t so sure. She might not be a powerful magician, but she had knowledge and precision – more of the former than any normal ward-maker or curse-breaker. Every ward had weaknesses, particularly the ones that had to allow multiple people to step through them without impediment. And she had a vial of Johan’s blood.
And she had his father. There were options. She just had to pluck up the nerve to use them.
“I think I can get in,” she said, willing Dread to believe her. “But I don’t know if I can take anyone else with me!”
Dread stepped away from her, pulling a tiny bracelet out of his pocket and putting it on. It was so unlike him to wear any form of jewellery that Elaine stared at it in surprise, but it still took her a moment to realise that a crystal ball was hidden amidst the gold. Dread started to mutter into it, too low for her to hear; his brother gave Elaine a long considering look, then stepped back and strode out of the tent.
“Very well,” Dread said, finally. He returned the bracelet to his pocket, then gave her a smile that was barely noticeable. “You’ll have your chance. But you won’t have long.”
Elaine nodded. Light Spinner was probably looking at the forbidden tomes right now, trying to find something that would allow her to end the crisis with a minimum of bloodshed – or anything so revealing that sorcerers would start work on trying to duplicate it. Elaine could have found her something, but she knew that she had to get to Johan first. The gods alone knew how much time she would be given before Light Spinner attacked.
“I’ll need him,” she said, indicating Duncan Conidian. “Can you help me get him outside.”
The wards felt ... strange, she realised, as they walked up to stand in front of the door. They crawled with magic, linked to aversion charms, jinxes and finally curses to deal with anyone persistent enough to brush aside the other effects, but there was something about them that was almost alive. She scowled as she reached out with her magic, wondering if the Conidian had broken the laws on creating magical artefacts that could actually think; there were too many horror stories about such devices for any breach of those laws to be taken lightly.
Or maybe they’re just confused, she thought, as she probed them gently. Their master isn’t dead, but he can no longer operate them; his Prime Heir isn’t any better. Who would be their master if both of them no longer have magic?
There was no way to know. Instead, she lifted her wand and cast the first spell, careful to keep one hand on Duncan Conidian at all times. He shuffled after her as she undid the first piece of the wards, then stepped through to challenge the second piece. Magic crackled around her as she pushed onwards; a single mistake, no matter how innocent, would see her revealed as an unwanted intruder. Sweat trickled down her back; she cast the next set of spells, closing her eyes to focus on the magic running all around her. The final ward rose up in front of her and she braced herself, then pushed Duncan Conidian forward. As she had hoped, the wards recognised their master’s blood and allowed them both to reach the door.
Inside, the magical energy died away to almost nothing. Elaine hadn’t been in many magical households, but she had expected more than this. She was almost disappointed; there should have been magic everywhere, blended into the stone, responsive only to the members of the family. But then, the Conidian Family was new to the city. It took years for a family home to become theirs. Carefully, she positioned Duncan Conidian somewhere where she hoped he would be safe – or at least stay out of the way – then started to advance down the corridor.
Elaine had barely gone any distance when she stumbled over the maid. She was naked, her feet clearly stuck to the floor; Elaine tapped her lips hastily when the maid stared at her, then knelt down beside her and tried to break the spell. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work. Her body had melded itself to the floor. It would require very precise magic to free her. If Johan died, Elaine realised grimly, the maid might be stuck there for the rest of her life. Most magic didn’t last that long without renewal; Johan, on the other hand, had ensured that more than magic held the maid prisoner.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she muttered. She wasn’t sure she dared try to use his blood as a guide when the wards might react – harshly – to such magic. “Do you know where he is?”
The maid pointed down the corridor towards a heavy wooden door. It was ajar, as if he were inviting her in ... or, more likely, that he simply hadn’t bothered to close it. Elaine could hear a low whimpering sound from inside, as if someone had been broken so completely they couldn’t even cry. A cold shudder ran through her body, but she forced herself to stand upright.
“Thank you,” she said.
Wand in hand, she advanced slowly towards the door.
Chapter Forty-Two
Mariah Conidian was a society beauty as well as a powerful magician. Everyone said so. She moved through the world with a smile on her face and time for everyone, apart from her children. Even Jamal, Johan knew, had had very little attention from their mother. The best that could be said of her was that she had never tormented Johan or sought to make him something he wasn’t. But then, she had spent most of her time just being beautiful.
Johan stared at her, feeling numb. His mother had used the most powerful cosmetic magic in the world to make herself almost inhumanly beautiful. There wasn’t a single mark on her face, nor was there anything to show that she had given birth to seven children. She could easily have passed for Charity’s sister rather than her mother, if Charity had spent half as much effort trying to make herself look pretty. It struck Johan, as he studied his mother, that Charity had been just as desperate to escape as Johan himself.
Of course she would, he thought. She knew what life awaited her if she stayed.
“You never did anything,” he hissed, pushing the thought aside. “Why didn’t you say a word to your husband about the way he treated me?”
His mother gave him a vapid smile that sent a shiver running down his spine. “Because I didn’t care,” she said. Clearly, willing her to tell the truth had it
s own dangers. “I didn’t care about any of you. All I wanted was to be a society queen. That was the bargain I made with your father, when we were married.”
Johan stared at her. He’d never given serious thought to having children – his life before he’d discovered his powers had suggested that he would never have the chance – but surely he would have cared more for them than that! How could a woman who had spent nine months carrying a child to term just abandon him to the tender mercies of his siblings? And it hadn’t just been the lone Powerless either. Even Jamal had been abandoned by his mother.
“A worthless bargain,” Johan hissed.
His mother, for a moment, looked surprisingly serious. “Everyone has different ambitions in life,” she said. “Your father wishes to be a powerful sorcerer, a man who merely has to snap his fingers and everyone jumps to obey. Just because those ambitions are different doesn’t make them wrong.”
Johan stared at her in disbelief. “You abandoned your children because you wanted to be popular?”
“Power comes in many forms,” his mother said, sternly. “Don’t you, of all people, know that?”
“You’ll get your wish,” Johan said, feeling cold rage bubbling up within him. “You will be popular, all right, and even pretty.”
His mother’s form hardened, becoming stone. Johan examined the statue thoughtfully for a long moment, shaking his head wearily. His mother could be placed at the heart of the city, where everyone would admire her features, eternally preserved in stone. He had no idea if she was still aware, despite being stone, but if she were he knew she would appreciate what he’d done. There would be people coming from all over the world to see her.
The door opened. Johan turned in surprise; he’d thought he’d dealt with the rest of his siblings already. Charity hadn’t been too bad – he was inclined to release her, once the world had allowed him to judge the magicians – but the others would definitely be punished. And, once their punishments were over, they would have to earn back their powers. If they had picked on him as a child, they couldn’t be trusted with magic.
He stared as Elaine stepped into the room, wand clasped in her hand. For a moment, he froze in absolute disbelief; Elaine was dead, he’d seen her shatter into a million pieces. It had seemed utterly beyond even his powers to try to restore her; he’d read enough horror stories to know that he shouldn’t try to bring the dead back to life. She had to be an illusion, cast by a sorcerer who wanted to kill him. After what he’d done to his father, there would be no shortage of those.
“Johan,” Elaine said. The voice sounded right, he had to admit, but it would. There would be glamours built into the illusion to fool him into accepting it, despite any small discrepancies. “You have to stop this.”
***
Elaine hadn’t known what to expect when she entered the small office. Johan might be foaming at the mouth or coldly, calculatingly, plotting his takeover of the world. There was precedent for both of them, she knew; a magician whose magic was suddenly boosted was at grave risk of going mad. And she knew that Johan might well go the same way, even though he hadn’t even been a magician until recently.
But instead, he just looked sad. Sad, broken and determined.
“You’re not Elaine,” he snarled, glaring at her. If looks could kill – which was quite possible in his case – she would have been incinerated on the spot. “Whoever you are, you are not my friend.”
“Your brother’s spell didn’t kill me,” Elaine said, keeping her voice level with an effort. He’d seen her shatter. He had to have assumed that she was dead. The gods knew it had taken hours before she’d even regained the slightest ability to think. “Do you remember the book of protective wards I was looking at? One of them saved my life.”
“Which is precisely what I want to hear,” Johan sneered. “Who are you?”
“Elaine,” Elaine said. Her temper couldn’t be allowed to flare, not now. She had to remain calm. “Do you remember the hot water I gave you?”
Johan nodded, surprise clearly visible on his face. He’d insisted on washing in his room, so Elaine had used magic to heat the water for him. But he’d forgotten to put in cool water before dipping his toe into the tub, scalding himself. Who would have known about that, but Johan himself – and Elaine? She had certainly never mentioned it to anyone else.
“You’re plucking things out of my mind,” Johan said. “I ... you’re dead.”
***
Johan couldn’t help feeling a quiet nagging doubt. He didn’t know just how far a glamour, combined with deceptive spells, could go; could they really pull thoughts out of his head? Or were they simply using magic to tell him something he wanted to hear? It wouldn’t be hard to think of memories Elaine and he shared that no one else would ... he stared at the form of his friend, feeling his heart harden in cold determination. The person who was wearing his friend’s form would pay.
“And you have stripped both your brother and father of their magic,” Elaine – or the person who was pretending to be Elaine – said. She turned to look at the statue of Johan’s mother – the statue that was Johan’s magic. “How many more are you going to hurt before you realise that you’ve gone off the right path?”
“And who are you,” Johan demanded, “to tell me which is the right path?”
“I’m your friend,” Elaine said. “Haven’t you done enough?”
“It isn’t enough,” Johan said. “The world is full of magicians who abuse their powers, who hurt and humiliate and kill those they deem beneath them. I was created to stop them.”
Elaine gave him a long considering look. “Is that what you really believe?”
“Why else,” Johan demanded, “would I even exist?”
“There may be a greater purpose for you,” Elaine pointed out. “Or you may be being misled by a voice in the back of your head.”
Johan felt a flare of anger. He couldn’t be angry at Elaine, no matter what she said, but the person wearing her form ... he’d kill him. But he also wanted to win the argument.
“If I hadn’t been there to testify against Jamal,” he said, coldly, “he would have gone free.”
“Perhaps,” Elaine said.
“There’s no doubt about it,” Johan snapped. “Do you think that the testimony of a group of mundanes would have stood up against magicians? That was why my father worked so desperately to bring me back under his control! I could be forced to recant my testimony and Jamal would go free! And he did go free.”
“He swore an oath,” Elaine said, quietly.
“Which he didn’t actually break,” Johan thundered. He stood up, leaning on the table like his father had done when he’d been yelling at his children. “And he was able to use my father’s oath to kill him!”
The thought was staggering. If Jamal hadn’t lost his own powers, he would have taken over House Conidian despite being in disgrace. Who would put the head of a Great House in the dock? Somehow, he doubted that Lady Light Spinner would have taken the risk. Jamal would not only have control over the family’s money, he would also have controlled the family’s patronage network. There could have been a very real risk of civil war.
“My brother will not be able to threaten the stability of the city again,” he finished. “And nor will anyone else!”
“Apart from you, it seems,” Elaine said, waspishly. “Or don’t you realise just how much trouble you’ve already caused?”
“Now they care,” Johan observed. “Where was their concern when I was being treated like an object?”
He stood up, lifting his hand. “You are not Elaine,” he snapped. “I saw Elaine die. And I will make you pay for impersonating her.”
***
Elaine almost panicked as Johan raised his hand. Despite Dread’s warning, it had honestly not seemed possible to her that Johan might not think that she was the real Elaine, even though hindsight suggested that it was at least a possibility. Part of her wanted to run, but she knew it would be futile; unlike most
normal magicians, Johan didn’t seem to need line-of-sight to cast antipersonnel spells. Instead, she braced herself and jabbed her hand into her pocket, breaking the vial of Johan’s blood. The glass cut her hand – she hissed in pain – allowing their blood to mingle.
“I take you as my apprentice,” she said, out loud. The magic – subtle magic, but none the less powerful – crackled around her, forming the mental link. Johan had already given his consent when he had accepted her offer; he’d never thought to rescind it. “I choose to link my mind and magic to yours ...”
She closed her eyes, suddenly very aware of his presence. His magic didn’t seem to react at all to the oath, but his soul did; she felt her mind extend until it was touching the very edge of his mind. And, beyond, she could see the web of life he’d tried – so inadequately – to describe to her. It was strange and beautiful ... and magic. For the first time in her life, despite becoming a Bookworm, she really understood what magic truly was.
We manipulate it when we cast spells, she thought, but Johan is directly linked to the magic ...
But there was no time to admire it, not now. Their memories clashed together, flashing through their minds. Johan would see everything, she knew, from her first memories of the orphanage to the terrible moment when she’d turned to glass and shattered ... and slowly pulled herself back together. A stab of guilt passed through her mind as Johan saw it, their thoughts so close that his guilt was hers; he’d never even tried to restore her. But how could he have known that she would have survived?
Bookworm II: The Very Ugly Duckling Page 39