Fists of Justice (Schooled in Magic Book 12)

by Christopher Nuttall

  The wake was a strange affair. Some of the mourners were clearly grieving, others were drinking beer as though there were no tomorrow, laughing and dancing as the sun started to fall towards the horizon. She was torn between revulsion and a kind of rueful understanding that the celebration did make sense. Casper might be dead, but he’d died well. And he’d gone on to Valhalla.

  Or something along the same lines, she thought. Fighting and feasting for all eternity.

  She watched Caleb as yet another stranger walked up to him to express his condolences – and, perhaps, to open up discussions. Caleb was the heir now, even if he hadn’t been formally confirmed. Emily couldn’t help thinking that her boyfriend looked stressed, perhaps even on the verge of collapse. His hands shook as they held a glass. She had no idea how much he’d drunk, but it could easily be far too much. Some of the younger men were having a drinking contest…

  And then she sensed the presence of…something.

  She looked up as the crowd scattered, the magically-sensitive reaching for spells or ducking for cover. A man stood on top of the nearest building, a tower that was easily one of the tallest buildings on Temple Row. He was right on the edge, staring down at the crowd. And there was…something…billowing around him, a haze that touched her senses and scrambled them. Something was very wrong…

  “Vesperian,” someone breathed.

  And then the man jumped.

  Chapter Fifteen

  SOMEONE SCREAMED.

  Emily barely heard it as she tried, desperately, to muster a levitation spell. It should be simplicity itself to catch Vesperian before he hit the ground and smashed himself into a pancake. She wasn’t the only sorcerer trying, either; magic boiled around the crowd, reaching towards the falling man…

  …And breaking up, fading into nothingness.

  She blinked in astonishment. It felt almost as though someone had wrapped a basic protective ward around Vesperian. But it was wrong ... She tried again, tightening her spell. There were so many spells trying to catch Vesperian that one of them, at least, should have worked. No protective ward should have been able to break up so many spells.

  And yet, Vesperian kept falling. He hit the ground with a terrible thud.

  “Justice,” someone breathed.

  Emily looked up. But the rooftop was empty.

  She heard the sounds of panic behind her and turned, yanking Frieda towards Caleb and his family as the crowd started to go wild. The priest shouted for order, but his words fell on deaf ears. Emily heard someone screaming that Vesperian owed him money, before the words were lost behind an incoherent sound. Outside, she heard chanting. The Hands of Justice were on the way.

  Sienna cast an amplification spell. “REMAIN CALM,” she ordered. Her words had little effect. Several of the younger men were already fighting each other, although Emily had no idea why. Others tried to climb over the walls or flee back into the temple, as if they thought it would be safe. “REMAIN CALM!”

  General Pollack shot Emily a relieved look as she reached them. “This isn’t good,” he said, stiffly. “We have to get back home.”

  Emily nodded. A team of city guardsmen had already arrived, pushing their way into the garden, but they looked edgy. There were sorcerers in the panicking crowd, sorcerers who might blast the guardsmen at any moment. Their commander hurried his men to the body of Vesperian and surrounded it, although Emily didn’t have the slightest idea what he thought he was doing. Somehow, keeping the crime scene free of containments seemed pointless.

  “It’s him,” the commander called. “Vesperian is dead!”

  “Idiot,” Sienna swore.

  The sound of chanting grew louder, seemingly coming from all directions. Emily glanced around, trying to determine the safest way out of the temple. She reached for her magic, preparing to teleport them home, but stopped herself abruptly. If…something…had kept a crowd of magic-users from saving a falling man, what would it do if she tried to teleport?

  “Justice.” Marian sounded dazed. “I saw Justice!”

  “Be quiet,” Sienna snapped.

  “We have to move,” General Pollack said. His voice boomed over the crowd. “I’ll take the lead; Caleb, you and Croce bring up the rear. Don’t hesitate to use magic to clear the way if necessary.”

  Emily swallowed, hard, as they hurried towards the gate. Men and women swarmed the streets, fleeing in all directions. Groups of worshippers fought, pouring out of their temples and into the fray. The Hands of Justice seemed to be stalled, but they fought with a discipline that surprised her. She hadn’t seen so much discipline from the footsoldiers she’d watched during the war. The remainder of the City Guard was nowhere to be seen.

  “They’ll be setting up wards along Sorcerers Row,” Sienna called back. “Let me go first when we reach the entrance.”

  “Of course, dear.” General Pollack sounded pained. “But we have to get out of here first!”

  Emily felt her body shake as they made their way down the street. The sheer emotion unleashed by the riot was staggering, a wave of rage and hatred that threatened to suck her into the mob. She readied a spell in one hand and clutched Frieda with the other, trying to escape a very primal terror. Cold logic told her she had enough magic to protect herself, but it wasn’t enough to make her feel safe. The crowd would rip her to pieces if it could lay hands on her.

  “Stand aside,” Sienna snapped.

  Emily looked up. A dozen men charged towards their small group, faces twisted with fury. They all wore dark green tunics and caps, marking them out as devotees of the Horned God. Now…she braced herself, just as Sienna threw an overpowered force punch at the leader. A blast of magic picked him and his comrades up, tossing them through the air and slamming their helpless bodies into a nearby temple. They fell to the ground and lay still. It was easy, even at a distance, to tell that some of them were badly wounded, perhaps even dead.

  “Keep moving.” Sienna glanced back at Emily. “We have to get home fast!”

  Emily swallowed, but did as she was told. Sienna was right. Emily just didn’t like it. She braced herself as another group of Hands of Justice came around the corner, readying a spell, but the fanatics ignored them. They were more intent on slamming into the rioting worshippers and teaching them a lesson. The clubs they carried were less dangerous, she supposed, than swords, yet she knew hundreds of people were going to be hurt – or killed.

  She shivered as the chant grew louder. “Justice…Justice…Justice…”

  The streets grew quieter as they hurried away from the temple. Dozens of guardsmen had materialized at one street corner, setting up barricades and turning away anyone who wanted to head to the temples. They looked terrified, a couple even sidling away as soon as they had the chance. Emily didn’t blame them. There were enough rioters in the area to smash through their lines, if they decided to rampage through the rest of the city. She wasn’t sure there were enough trained guardsmen to put an end to the riot.

  They’ll have to use magic, she thought. A pair of black-clad sorcerers, wearing blue armbands, hurried up to join the guard. And who knows what that will do?

  “General,” a guardsman called. “Is it true?”

  General Pollack slowed. “Is what true?”

  “Is he dead?” the guard asked. Others looked up, hoping to hear the answer. “Is Vesperian dead?”

  Say no, Emily urged, silently. Rumors were already spreading…but, if they were lucky, perhaps they could keep them from spreading too far. People wouldn’t want to believe that Vesperian was dead. Don’t pour fuel on the fire.

  “Yes,” General Pollack said. “I saw him die.”

  Emily cursed, inwardly, as they picked up speed again. Telling the guardsmen the truth had been a mistake. Even with the best will in the world – and that was lacking – Vesperian’s death would cause economic shockwaves. Now…who knew how many people would run out of money while the council tried to figure out what to do? Or how many others would seek redress thr
ough violence?

  A cold shiver ran down her spine. Beneficence was battening down the hatches, shopkeepers slamming their doors and sealing the windows while stallkeepers hurried away in all directions. A number of young men massed outside some of the shops, carrying all sorts of makeshift weapons. Emily couldn’t tell if they intended to do some looting or prevent it. Perhaps they didn’t know either. Their gazes flickered over the small group, then looked away. No doubt they’d recognized General Pollack or his wife.

  The noise dimmed, slightly, as they turned into Sorcerers Row. A handful of sorcerers were hastily raising wards, casting charms over anyone who stepped through them. Sienna spoke briefly to the leader, who nodded shortly and motioned for the group to enter the street. Emily was surprised to note that the various magic-users seemed to be working together surprisingly well. Normally, getting powerful sorcerers to cooperate was a little like herding cats.

  The prospect of a mass riot might just have concentrated a few minds, she thought. There were so many wards and defensive charms flickering through the air that she suspected some of them were interfering with the others. It was not going to be a peaceful night. And they might have decided to put old grudges aside to defend their homes.

  She turned, peering back towards Temple Row. A cloud of smoke rose into the air. Beneficence had a working fire service, but she doubted the firemen could get to the fire while the mob raged. The flames might not be a major problem on Temple Row – the temples were all built of stone – yet if the fire spread further, it would turn into a disaster. Most of the homes in Fishing Plaice were built of wood. The poorest and most helpless citizens would find themselves without a roof over their heads.

  “Get inside,” Sienna snapped. Emily could feel the wards, cracking through the air. “Now!”

  She hurried into the house. Sienna slammed the door. A moment later, the wards crashed down too. Emily tested them, briefly. They were simple but tough, linked directly to Sienna’s mind. Breaking them would be a complex task, one almost certainly beyond her. No one could enter or leave the house without Sienna’s permission.

  “The coffin,” Karan said. “We left it behind!”

  “They won’t touch it,” Sienna said, shortly. “I saw to that.”

  You charmed an empty coffin. She wondered just what Sienna thought was inside the coffin. And yet, it wasn’t a question she dared ask. You went to a lot of effort…why?

  A pale-faced girl appeared in the doorway. Emily started, then caught herself. The newcomer must be the maid. She looked to be around the same age as Karan, but she was so thin and pale that Emily couldn’t help wondering what she ate. Her dark hair framed a pale face that was vaguely Oriental in shape.

  “Mistress,” she said. “What happened?”

  “A riot,” Sienna said, shortly. “Fetch drinks for us, now.”

  The maid curtseyed, then retreated. Emily shivered, helplessly, as she followed the others into the living room. She would never grow used to servants, never. There was something creepy about having someone to serve her, someone who had to do as they were told. Void had urged her to hire a maid, to have someone tend to her house during her absences, but she would be damned if she was enslaving anyone.

  Sure, her own thoughts mocked her. And how would you know your secrets were safe if you didn’t?

  “I was going to meet a couple of friends,” Croce said. “I…”

  “You will be staying here,” General Pollack said, firmly. “Riots are dangerous, even for young sorcerers.”

  Croce looked as if he were about to argue, but said nothing. Emily studied him for a long moment, then turned her head. Caleb sat on the sofa, looking tired. His hands shook slightly, a legacy of a nasty alchemical accident. Emily didn’t blame him. He had drunk too much even before all hell had broken loose.

  The maid returned, carrying a tray of mugs. Emily took the offered drink, then tried to shoot the young girl a smile. The maid looked shocked, just for a moment; she handed out the rest of the mugs and departed as fast as possible. Emily felt a stab of sympathy as she sipped her Kava. Working for Sienna had to be a difficult task.

  “I saw Justice.” Marian looked up, defiantly. “He was on top of the tower.”

  “I very much doubt it,” Sienna said, sharply. “Be silent.”

  “I saw him,” Marian insisted. “Mother, Vesperian jumped to avoid being petrified!”

  Sienna gave her youngest daughter a quelling look. “You will be quiet!”

  Emily thought, fast. Something had been up there, but what? She’d definitely sensed something. And every spell she’d cast to stop Vesperian’s fall had failed, the magic breaking up and fading out of existence. She’d seen protective wards that worked like that – they were among the first she’d learned to cast – but she’d never seen one that had deflected so many spells. Whoever had cast the ward, if it was a ward, had been a powerful magician.

  Or they could have configured the spell to feed off the unleashed magic, she mused. It wouldn’t last indefinitely, but it might hold out longer…

  She tossed the equations ‘round and ‘round in her head. The real downside was that the ward wouldn’t discriminate. It would happily absorb both incoming and outgoing spells. But if someone didn’t have magic – and she hadn’t seen proof that Vesperian had magic – it wouldn’t matter. They wouldn’t be doing anything the ward might block.

  Marian came to her feet. “I saw him!”

  “No, you didn’t,” Sienna said. “You don’t know what was up there. Nor do I!”

  “Justice,” Marian insisted. “Mother, I…”

  Sienna rose. “Go to your room,” she ordered, in a tone that suggested further arguing was pointless. “I will be up shortly.”

  Marian glared at her, then rose and stamped through the door. Emily could hear her crashing her way up the stairs and slamming her bedroom door. She felt a moment of pity for the younger girl, mingled with contempt. Sienna was right. There was no real proof that a god was walking the streets. Whoever had killed the original set of victims might finally have caught up with Vesperian himself.

  “Emily,” Karan said, into the chilly silence. “What will happen now he’s dead?”

  Emily shook her head. She’d had a quick look through the law books, but Beneficence didn’t have anything resembling a modern regulatory framework. A person could go bankrupt, a family could go bankrupt…there hadn’t been any large corporations until the New Learning, certainly nothing as large as Vesperian’s business. The largest institutions she knew had been trading firms, and few of them had operated more than a handful of ships.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “This has never happened before.”

  “Not here,” Caleb said.

  Emily nodded, shortly. “I suppose it depends on what happens to the estate.” The notes had been due tomorrow, if she recalled correctly. Vesperian’s estate probably wouldn’t be paying out on them, not immediately. There would be hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people watching their life savings evaporate. “It will take weeks to figure out just how much he owes.”

  Sienna peered at her, narrowly. “You’ve seen it happen before?”

  “Only in theory,” Emily said. It wasn’t entirely true – she’d been on Earth when the dot-com bubble burst – yet she hadn’t really taken notice. The crash hadn’t made her life any better or worse. “We discussed the possibility in Zangaria.”

  Sienna didn’t look convinced. Emily winced, inwardly. She didn’t want to tell Sienna the truth, not yet. Perhaps not ever. Who knew what Sienna would do if she learned alternate worlds and dimensions existed? And yet, Caleb’s mother had probably figured out there was something odd about her prospective daughter-in-law. She would certainly want answers, sooner or later.

  Karan coughed. “And what did you conclude?”

  “That we should be careful,” Emily said. “I don’t know what we can do.”

  “The council may push for a moratorium on payouts,” General Pollack
said. “If Vesperian had no reason to expect his death, he might not have updated his will.”

  “He certainly should have,” Sienna said. “Death can come at any time.”

  She rose. “Emily, Frieda, I suggest you have a rest,” she said, as she headed for the door. “I don’t think anyone will be foolish enough to try to break through the wards, but you never know. Don’t try to leave the house.”

  “We won’t,” Emily said.

  “I’ll be in my office,” General Pollack said. “Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.”

  Caleb followed Emily and Frieda up the stairs, then jabbed a meaningful finger at their bedroom door. Frieda hesitated, glancing towards Marian’s door before opening her door and hurrying though. Caleb reached out and hugged Emily the moment the door was half-closed, holding her tightly. His hands were still shaking.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t with you during the ceremony,” he said. “I…”

  He shook his head. Emily wondered, again, just how much he’d had to drink. She’d seen Caleb angry, but not maudlin. And yet…Casper had been maudlin when he’d been drinking alone. She hadn’t liked seeing that either.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” she said. Caleb hadn’t designed the ceremony. The rules had been laid down hundreds of years ago. Men and women were separated as soon as they entered the temple. Hell, she’d had the impression that women were rarely allowed to visit. “I’m sorry the service was ruined.”

  “Casper is probably looking down on us now and laughing,” Caleb said. “His funeral turned into a riot…he’d find that amusing.”

  He shook his head. “I hope he’s happy, wherever he is.”

  “Me too,” Emily said.