And they’ll demand their money back, her thoughts added. What happens then?
Chapter Seventeen
THERE WERE MORE GUARDS – AND HANDS of Justice – on the streets as they left Temple Row and headed towards the docks. The homes were darker here, bolted and locked…sometimes even guarded by hired toughs. Men gathered outside bars, chatting to one another in hushed voices, their eyes flickering from side to side as if afraid of being overheard. There were few women on the streets at all. Emily resisted the urge to walk closer to Sienna as she felt sharp-edged protective spells drifting through the air. None felt friendly.
“Be on your best behavior,” Sienna warned, as they stopped outside a small house. “Sarnia is not one to tolerate incivility.”
Emily glanced at her, then nodded. The house – Sarnia’s house – was surrounded by hundreds of protective spells, meshed together into a network that would be difficult to break without setting off all kinds of alarms. Emily could feel them probing at her, warning her to keep back. There were so many redundancies built into the spellwork that she had no doubt Sarnia was a powerful and experienced sorceress. And then the wards fell back, allowing them to enter.
“This way,” Sienna said.
She led the way to the door, which opened smoothly. A tall woman stood just inside the porch, her eyes studying Emily with undisguised interest. Emily looked back, evenly. The woman – Sarnia, she assumed – could have passed for an aristocrat. Her stern face, cold eyes and greying hair suggested it wouldn’t be easy to change her mind about anything. Her black robes made it clear she was a sorceress.
“Sienna,” she said. Her voice was cool and composed. “I welcome you to my house.”
“Thank you,” Sienna said. “Sarnia, may I present Lady Emily?”
Sarnia looked unimpressed. “You are welcome, Lady Emily.”
“Thank you,” Emily said. “I pledge to hold my hand in your house.”
“Very good.” Sarnia’s voice was still composed. “You may enter.”
Emily followed the two older women, looking around with interest. There was no household god, no sign of any religion…merely hundreds of runes, carved into the walls. Sarnia had linked them into the wards, she noted. It would make it harder to starve the wards of power instead of breaking them down one by one. Sarnia led them into a small living room, so picture-perfect that Emily couldn’t help wondering how long Sarnia – or her servants – spent cleaning and dusting it every day. Everything had its place.
“I assume this is not a social call,” Sarnia said, as she motioned for them to sit down. “Shall we get right to the point?”
“We’re investigating Vesperian’s death,” Sienna said, briskly. She sounded pleased. Emily wondered if she’d been dreading a few minutes of pointless chatter before getting to the point. “We need to talk to Alba.”
“Alba is not in a good state at the moment.” Sarnia’s face didn’t change, but Emily thought she saw pain in the older woman’s eyes. “Do you have to talk to her?”
“I’m afraid so,” Sienna said. “She was a witness to one of the petrifications.”
Sarnia looked displeased. “I shall summon her,” she said. She cocked her head, interacting with the house’s wards. “Do you want my insights while you wait?”
“Of course,” Sienna said.
“Alba snuck out of the house, two weeks ago.” She smiled an odd little smile. “My daughter believes I didn’t know she was sneaking out.”
“Just like you did at her age,” Sienna said.
“Indeed,” Sarnia agreed. “She had the usual collection of protective spells – and her wand, of course – so I believed she could go in reasonable safety. And the next thing I know, a guardsman is knocking desperately on my door, babbling something about my daughter being frightened out of her wits. I checked the tracking spell, and it was gone.”
Emily leaned forward, shocked. “You had a tracking spell on your daughter?”
“Yes,” Sarnia said, flatly.
There was a long pause. “The spell was configured to alert me if anyone tried to remove it,” she added, slowly. “Even I couldn’t have unravelled it without setting off the alarms. But it was gone, completely. There was no way to find her.”
Sienna nodded. “And then?”
“I checked the other spells, as soon as I reached the scene,” Sarnia said. “They were all gone, all of them. Worse, her wand had been purged of spellwork and her reserves were completely drained. She hasn’t been able to cast even the simplest spells for the last two weeks.”
“Gods,” Sienna breathed. “She lost her magic?”
“It is regenerating, but very slowly,” Sarnia said. “I haven’t seen anyone so drained since the Trellis Ritual.”
“Which killed a number of older sorcerers,” Sienna finished.
Emily winced. She’d been in rituals herself. Even the simplest rituals were draining. “What were the other spells?”
“One to summon her home, if necessary,” Sarnia said. “One to alert her if something happened to either of her parents. And one to make sure that no one could take her maidenhead. The results would be unpleasant for anyone who tried.”
Emily blinked. “You put spells on your daughter?”
Sarnia studied her for a long, cold moment. “When you have children, Lady Emily, you’ll understand. Until then, I have a duty to protect my children.”
The door rattled open before Emily could think of a response. A young girl stepped into the room, her face pale and wan. Her hands were clasped together to keep them from shaking, while her eyes flickered from side to side as if she expected a brutal attack at any moment. Emily would have wondered if Sarnia had been abusing her daughter, if Alba hadn’t gone immediately to her mother and sat down next to her. She looked like a toddler cuddling up to its mother.
“Alba,” Sarnia said. “Auntie Sienna and Lady Emily need to talk to you.”
Alba still shook. Her mother wrapped an arm around her, holding her gently. Alba wasn’t much smaller than her mother, but her fear made her smaller, almost elfin. Emily felt a stab of pity, mingled with concern. Magical families seemed to believe, firmly, in tough love. And yet, Sarnia was obviously willing to indulge her shaken daughter. It boded ill. Alba was in a very bad state.
“He d-died,” Alba stuttered. “He died in f-front of me.”
Sienna leaned forward. “Tell us what happened,” she said. “Please.”
Alba swallowed, hard. “I snuck out of the house. I…I was due to meet Antony. We were going to go to Vesperian’s ball, at his mansion…”
Her voice trailed away for a long moment. Emily felt another stab of pity. She’d seen shocked people before, but Alba looked to have been pushed well past her breaking point. Sarnia was right. Her daughter had been scared out of her wits.
“We had a good time, dancing.” Alba didn’t look at her mother. “We danced. That was all we did. We danced. Everyone was there…we left, a few hours later, and started to walk home. And then he was there.”
“Describe him,” Sienna ordered.
Alba’s shaking grew worse. “I can’t. He was…he was there.”
She stared down at her lap. “I…I…I…I…couldn’t do anything. I…he just overwhelmed me. His presence…I couldn’t help myself. I dropped the wand…I could only watch.”
“It’s all right,” Sarnia breathed. “You’re safe now.”
“No one is safe,” Alba burst out. “A god is walking the streets!”
She thrashed around, as if she were being held tightly and trying to break free. But she wasn’t. She seemed torn between clinging to her mother and running for her life. Her entire body shook helplessly…
“There was pain,” she whispered. “There was light, powerful light. And then…he was stone. Antony was stone. He’d been turned to stone and…”
“Her screams brought the Guard.” Sarnia held her daughter tightly, sweeping her into a hug. “They called for both sets of parents.”
“It’s going to be all right,” Sarnia promised.
No, it won’t, Emily thought. There’s no one here who can help her.
Sienna looked pained. “Did you run any tests on the statue?”
“All my spells insisted that it was stone, had always been stone, would always be stone,” Sarnia said. “There was no magic there at all. And yet, it was very definitely Antony. He always looked very much like his father.”
She didn’t look up. “I didn’t approve of Antony,” she added, “but he didn’t deserve to die like that. His face…he died in agony.”
“I see,” Sienna said.
Emily frowned, inwardly. Sarnia was willing to put spells on her daughter to protect her, yet unwilling to forbid Alba from seeing Antony? That didn’t quite add up. Unless, of course, Sarnia was prepared to allow her daughter to make some mistakes under controlled conditions. And yet…Emily couldn’t help shivering at the thought of someone laying spells on her without her consent. The spells might be designed to do far more than protect their subject.
Sienna shook her head. “Did you check the surrounding area?”
“No,” Sarnia said. “The Guard summoned two of their sorcerers to do the work. They found nothing, from what I heard.”
“No traces of magic,” Sienna mused.
“Nothing,” Sarnia agreed. In her arms, Alba began to cry. “If you have other questions, please let me know. Otherwise…”
“We’ll show ourselves out,” Sienna said. “And thank you.”
She didn’t say anything else until they were outside, walking back through the darkened streets. “Alba was always a fun-loving girl,” she said, softly. “I considered attempting to arrange a match between her and Croce. To see her broken like that…”
Emily shivered. “A Nightmare Hex?”
“It’s possible,” Sienna agreed. “And yet, Sarnia would have sensed it. It would have left traces.”
“And it wouldn’t have killed a man,” Emily added. Nightmare Hexes weren’t dangerous, in and of themselves. She knew that for a fact. It was what someone did, under the influence, that was truly dangerous. A magician who lost control of his powers and lashed out in fear could easily get himself killed. “What can do that?”
“I wish I knew.” Sienna turned the corner, walking down a narrow alleyway. “It just doesn’t add up. Alba was drained of power, yet she didn’t cast a single spell; Antony was killed, yet…whatever turned him into stone left no traces.”
“Unless you have something that vacuumed up all traces of magic,” Emily pointed out. “A magic-absorbing ward would do that, wouldn’t it?”
“Only active magic,” Sienna said. “I’ve never heard of anything that drained a person’s reserves…”
She stopped, dead. Emily sensed it too, a moment later. An…absence…an absence of…something. She looked around, noting that they were standing in a place where four alleys met. And yet, something was missing. The background mana was almost completely gone.
“It happened here,” Sienna said. “And the magic field has been disrupted.”
She walked from side to side, casting a handful of spells. Emily closed her eyes, trying to sense the ebb and flow of magic. It felt as though something had drained the mana, leaving a region that was completely devoid of magic. The remainder of the field was slowly filling the hole, she noted, but it was moving so slowly she couldn’t help thinking it would be years before the region returned to normal. Her reserves didn’t seem affected, but runes and anything else that depended on the background magic field would fail as long as the area remained dead. She wondered, grimly, just what would happen if she tried to cast a spell within the dead zone.
The spells would have to be modified, she thought. And I would have to put out more power.
“Something was definitely here,” Sienna said. “But what?”
Emily shook her head. A necromancer could drain power, true, but Alba wouldn’t have survived the experience. And every sorcerer within the city would have sensed the power surge. Unless someone had invented something new…it was possible. Dua Kepala had been revoltingly ingenious, and the Allied Lands had paid the price.
“It seems impossible to believe it was a god,” Sienna added. “The killings do follow a pattern. People linked to Vesperian, directly or indirectly…”
“And now Vesperian himself,” Emily agreed. Sienna was right. If Justice was real, why wasn’t he going after the real monsters? Why target Antony when it was his father who was working with Vesperian? “Did you know Antony?”
“Vaguely,” Sienna said. “A young man, one of many. Nothing too remarkable…no magic, as far as I know; the promise of inherited wealth, yet no wealth of his own. I believe his parents were looking for a match for him, but they never expressed interest in my daughters.”
Emily glanced at her. “Would you push Karan or Marian into marriage?”
“They’re powerful magicians,” Sienna said. There was a hint of pride in her voice. “It would be unwise.”
“Fulvia tried to push Melissa into a marriage,” Emily pointed out.
“And look how well that worked out,” Sienna countered. “I would prefer that my daughters choose their own partners.”
Emily nodded, slowly. She wasn’t sure she wanted to ask the next question, but it had been nagging at her mind. “Do you…do you put protective spells on your daughters?”
“There are some on Marian,” Sienna said. “Karan is too advanced a magician to allow me to give her protections.”
She gave Emily a searching glance. “Does that bother you?”
Emily hesitated. Part of her – the part that had grown up feeling vulnerable – would have welcomed such protections, if they kept her safe. She might even have asked for such protections. But she also felt as though it would be unwarranted interference in her life, carried out by a parent who didn’t understand her. She had a right to make her own mistakes, didn’t she?
“I don’t know,” she admitted, finally.
Sienna looked amused. “My mother was a strict disciplinarian. She ruled the household with a rod of iron. I chafed under her rules and promised myself that, when I had children, I would treat them differently. And then I had children, and discovered my mother had actually had good reason for her actions. You’ll feel differently too, when you have children. It isn’t a safe world.”
Her smile widened. “There aren’t any spells on Caleb, if that’s what you’re asking. Or didn’t you notice that you didn’t get struck blind when you kissed him?”
Emily stared at her in shock. “Is that…is that what Sarnia’s spell did?”
“It might have,” Sienna said. “There was a minor scandal involving Alba’s elder sister and her boyfriend.”
“I don’t think I want to know,” Emily said. “Does she…does she have the right to put spells on her children?”
Sienna shrugged. “When you have children, you’ll feel differently,” she commented. “Trust me on that, Emily.”
“Alba had a wand,” Emily said. “Was she…was she a strong magician?”
“She didn’t have enough talent to justify sending her to school,” Sienna said. “Her mother made the decision to teach her at home. She had promise, but…not enough.”
Emily swallowed. “Was it the right choice?”
“Good question,” Sienna said. “Sarnia is a good teacher, but no one can cover all the basics.”
She looked down at Emily. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that Sarnia is too strict with her children. You’re probably thinking that I’m too strict with my children. And you might be right. It’s never easy to balance between protecting your children and preparing them for adulthood. Some mistakes have to be made to allow your children to learn from them. Others…others shouldn’t be made at all.
“There are worse parents out there,” she added. “Parents who ignore their children, parents who spoil their children, parents who abuse their children. Focus your ire on them.”
Emily felt herself flush. Her mother had been a drunkard, her father had vanished long ago and her stepfather…she shuddered. A protective spell would have been helpful, back when she’d been trapped in a dingy apartment. She might have felt safer. It might even have given her the courage to stand up to the older man.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Ah, youth,” Sienna said. “The age when you know everything.”
She turned in a circle, casting a set of spells into the air. “And if you do know everything, tell me what did this?”
“I don’t know,” Emily said, irked.
She glanced up, readying a spell, as she heard the clatter of footsteps. A young man wearing a green tunic hurried up to them and fell on one knee.
“Lady Emily,” he gasped. A herald, Emily realized. King Randor’s wore finer clothes, but the principle was the same. “The guildmasters request the pleasure of your company at the guildhall.”
Emily glanced at Sienna, who shrugged.
“It will be my pleasure,” she said, formally. She frowned. How had the herald known where to find her? They certainly hadn’t told anyone where they were going after the Temple of Stone. “I’ll be on my way in a moment.”
“I will accompany you.” Sienna smiled, as if something was humorous. “We wouldn’t want you to get lost along the way.”
“Thank you,” Emily said. The herald turned and hurried off. “How…how did he know where to find us?”
“There’s a tracking spell on my papers,” Sienna said, with an odd little smile. “And they knew you were accompanying me.”
“Oh,” Emily said.
Chapter Eighteen
EMILY COULDN’T HELP THINKING, WHEN SHE first set eyes on the guildhall, that it looked rather like a smaller version of the Capitol building. It sat in the center of the city, overshadowed by the giant castle and surrounded by hundreds of statues, each one representing one of the guilds. The City Guard were out in force, patrolling the streets around the guildhall as if they expected trouble. Emily suspected they were right. Sienna led the way to the doors, spoke briefly to one of the guards, and walked into the building.
Fists of Justice (Schooled in Magic Book 12) Page 17