Fists of Justice (Schooled in Magic Book 12)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “Justice can make those judgements,” Janus insisted.

  Emily shook her head. Justice couldn’t even begin to judge fairly. Janus might think he was asking a god to pass judgement, but instead he was sending a monstrous entity out to kill. No doubt he thought everyone was guilty of something. In hindsight, Alba had been amazingly lucky. Justice could have killed her as easily as it had killed Antony.

  She felt a twang of regret, mingled with a grim determination to stop Janus – whatever the cost. He didn’t know what he was doing. How could he? He’d found the scrolls, but it was clear he lacked the background to do anything beyond taking them for granted…

  “He can’t,” she said.

  Janus lunged at her. His hand was wrapped around her neck before she could react.

  “Justice is a god,” he snarled. Emily had to fight to avoid panic. “And he will pass judgement on you!”

  Emily gasped for breath as he released her. “Where…where did you find the scrolls?”

  “They were hidden under the temple,” Janus started to pace again. “We uncovered them two years ago, when we expanded the lower levels. The note on the scrolls said they would only be discovered when we needed them.”

  And if Master Wolfe managed to turn himself into a Mimic, Emily thought, he might have come up here after escaping the castle.

  She considered it, briefly. A Mimic would never grow tired, as long as it had a constant supply of magic. She shivered as the implications sank in. Master Wolfe had been a skilled magician, yet even he would have had to resort to necromancy to live if he’d become a Mimic. His sanity would have eventually slipped completely, even though he no longer had a human brain to warp. But, before then, he could have founded the city. Beneficence was old, yet there were no reliable stories from the days before the Empire. God alone knew what might have happened between Master Wolfe’s apparent death and the rise of the Empire.

  A thought struck her. Were those notes left for me?

  Janus turned back to face her. “You will join us,” he said. “Surrender your will. Embrace Justice.”

  Emily snapped the freeze spell, then hurled a freeze charm of her own at him. Janus looked surprised, but somehow managed to use his staff to block the spell. Emily sensed a wave of magic surrounding the wood, pulsing out in all directions…Janus might not be a magician in his own right, but he’d somehow learned to manipulate magic in ways no mundane should be able to match. She promised herself that she’d figure out how he did it afterwards.

  Janus snapped out a word. A wave of force struck Emily, throwing her back. She barely had a moment to wrap protections around herself before she smashed through the glass and plummeted to the chamber below. Someone shouted, loudly, as she drew on her magic to land as gently as she could. The shock of the impact still hurt…

  “Justice,” Janus shouted. “Come!”

  Emily cursed as a red-robed man leapt at her, his face twisted with hatred. She slammed a force punch into his chest, tossing him through the air and into the far wall. Another appeared, his staff blazing with light; Emily threw a wand-cracking spell at him, and had the satisfaction of watching the staff shatter into dust. Moments later, raw magic tore the priest apart…

  “Justice,” Janus repeated. His staff glowed brightly. Magic flared through the chamber. She launched a fireball at him; it flickered out of existence an instant before it struck its target. “Come!”

  And then Emily felt the presence all around her.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  EMILY GRITTED HER TEETH AS THE presence tore into her, a wave of energy that threatened to bring her to her knees. It whispered to her, promising a world of stability, of security, of justice, if she only let it into her heart. The torrent of power was so strong that her resolution buckled, nearly breaking once and for all. The rune on her chest heated, keeping her focused. She still had to fight to get out of the way as Justice coalesced in front of her. The entity looked more godlike than ever before.

  “Justice!” Janus shouted. “Justice!”

  Emily focused her mind, trying to think. She had to get out, she had to run…she felt the creature tugging at her magic, trying to drain her. Her wards, already damaged by Janus, started to break completely. No wonder Alba had been so badly drained, she noted as she hastily reinforced them. Alba had lacked the control to rebuild her protections – or her mother’s protections – as Justice stripped them away.

  She looked at Justice. The entity flowed so brightly that it was impossible to see details, but her mind filled in the blanks. She felt a moment of sour admiration for the person who’d designed the entity – Master Wolfe or one of his students, perhaps – as she realized how well it went together. They’d taken one of the nastiest mind-control spells she knew – that anyone knew – and melded it into the entity. Any attempt to break the spell ran the risk of speeding up the end.

  “You’re not real.” She took a step backwards, then another. “You’re not real.”

  The magic surged. She forced herself to jump to the side as a lightning bolt snapped through the air, passing through the space she’d been and slamming into the wall. It wasn’t just a lightning bolt, she noted, as she threw herself over an altar and ducked behind it. A second bolt crackled over her head. Justice – or his creator – had wrapped a number of spells into each bolt. If one of them didn’t get her, the others would.

  Justice kicked the altar. It shattered, pieces of rock flying everywhere. Sparks of raw magic tore at Emily’s wards, screams of pain echoing through her mind. She stumbled to her knees, her defenses starting to buckle under the onslaught. A volley of impressions - screams - stuck her as she brushed against the altar, a mark left behind by the dead. The early sacrifices might have been volunteers – she wondered if Janus had tried to sacrifice magic-users or people with undiscovered magic potential – but their successors had been held down and drained for the good of society. Janus, like all fanatics, would build his utopia on a pile of dead bodies.

  Damn him, she thought.

  She forced herself to crawl as the entity loomed over her. It was playing with her, inching forward to make her think she had a chance to escape. Or was it? Did it have more in common with a Manavore than she’d thought? Could it see her as long as she didn’t use magic? She looked up at Janus, still standing in what remained of his office, and knew it wouldn’t matter. He’d direct his god to her if she tried to escape without using magic.

  Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself to her feet. Looking at Justice with her senses was like looking into a blinding light, but the more she looked the more she saw the complex chain of spells that held him together. Master Wolfe had definitely been a genius. And yet…

  She braced herself, then cast the single most powerful dispelling spell she could. Justice flickered, just for an instant. Beyond him, darkness fell as light globes flickered out of existence and wards failed. Emily thought, for a second, that she’d actually won. And then the god lunged forward, power billowing around him. Emily had to throw herself right across the room, drawing on her magic, to escape its reach.

  “There is no escape,” Janus shouted. She couldn’t see him any longer – her eyes were starting to hurt – but she could hear him all too well. “Judgement is coming!”

  The dispelling charm didn’t work, Emily thought. He’s too complex to be easily banished.

  Justice walked – or glided – towards her, his appearance blurring into a mass of lights and raw power. She wasn’t sure if he’d switched off the glamour or if it no longer affected her, but it hardly mattered. Janus still ranted, behind his god. She tuned him out as she tried to think of another option. Direct attack was futile. But there were other possibilities.

  She launched a fireball at the nearest altar, then picked up the pieces with magic and threw them at the entity. Justice didn’t react as the chunks of stone flew towards him, but staggered when the rocks passed through his chest. Emily felt a flicker of surprise – she hadn’t been sure what
she’d expected to happen, but clearly something had – and launched more pieces of debris at him. Justice slowed, yet he wasn’t stopped. And that meant…

  I could thrust my mind into the maelstrom, she thought. But I’d never get out alive.

  She looked up. Justice was backing her up against the wall. His power beat against her, pushing her back until she could retreat no more. But there were still options…she gathered her magic, then slammed a powerful hex into the ceiling. It shattered, dust and rocks raining down on the entity. Justice staggered, again, under the weight of the assault, distracting him for a moment. Emily yanked her wards around her, then hurled herself up and through the hole. The spell started to fail a moment later, as Justice started to drain the mana, but it was enough to get her to the top.

  Not enough to stop him, she told herself, as she landed on the temple floor. I need something bigger.

  A line of young men – boys, really – knelt at the front of the room, watched by a grim-faced man with a switch in one hand. He lifted his hand as soon as he saw Emily and started to chant a spell; she froze him in place, hoping the boys weren’t fanatics. She didn’t want to hurt them, even though they might not feel the same way about her. But, from the shock in their eyes, they hadn’t wanted to be there either.

  “Run,” she shouted. “Now!”

  The boys scattered as the presence grew stronger, faint lights flickering around the hole in the floor as Justice glided up to continue the pursuit. Emily gritted her teeth, then started to transfigure the pieces of debris to gunpowder. Justice might not be stopped by an explosion, but she hoped it would make him reconsider his options. She turned and ran, hurling a fireball behind her, as the entity hovered into view. The blast from the explosion picked her up and threw her into the wall. She barely had a moment to put up her arms and catch herself before it was too late.

  She hit the ground, gasping in pain. The entire temple shook violently, pieces of debris crashing to the floor. She staggered to her feet and turned, blood trickling down her arms and legs. Justice stood in the middle of the crater, unhurt. He had his back to her, but the cobweb of magic around him was growing stronger. Two of the boys stumbled towards him, their heads bowed. Emily opened her mouth to shout a warning, but it was too late. He touched their foreheads gently, almost reverently…

  …And both boys crumbled into dust.

  Shit, Emily thought.

  She could barely move as the entity slowly turned to face her. Its expression blurred, then coalesced into a stern face that peered down at her from an impossible height. A judge, she thought, a stern judge handing down judgements that could never be questioned. She heard a statue toppling to the ground behind her, but she couldn’t break free. Justice had her in its power. It was all she could do not to fall to her knees and beg for a forgiveness she knew wouldn’t come.

  A hanging judge, she told herself. Her aches and pains faded into a dull haze as it advanced towards her. Everyone is guilty of something.

  Her magic faded as the cobwebs grew stronger, brushing against her wards. She felt them, stroking her magic…she felt as though she was on the verge of some great insight, but it refused to materialize. There was something about them…

  And then she heard a voice. “Emily!”

  Emily’s magic sparked as something wrapped itself around her, yanking her through the air at terrifying speed. For a second, she felt utterly helpless as the cobwebs grew stronger, trying to pull her back. And then the cobwebs tore, releasing her. Magic flared around her as she flew through a hole in the wall and landed on the ground. Frieda stood over her, looking grim.

  “Emily,” she said. “What happened?”

  “Help me up,” Emily’s managed. Her magic felt drained. She hadn’t felt so bad since her duel with Master Grey. Her throat was so dry she was sure she could taste dust. “Hurry!”

  Frieda helped her up. Emily leaned against her, peering into the darkened temple. The entity stood within the shadows, looking back at her. It had her scent, she knew; she could barely move, let alone run. Justice could finish the job at any moment, if it wished. It could kill Frieda too…

  …And yet, it wasn’t moving.

  It can’t leave the temple without permission, Emily guessed. Or perhaps without proper preparation.

  She tore her gaze away from the entity to look up and down the street. Dead bodies lay everywhere, slaves killed by their former owners and priests torn limb from limb by their former slaves. Fires burned in the darkness, suggesting many of the original attacks had been successful. And yet, she knew she’d failed. She’d learned a great deal about Justice, but not enough to kill him.

  And Janus will be up here at any moment, she thought, grimly. She would have liked to think that Janus had been squashed by falling debris, but she knew she didn’t dare count on it. He can give Justice permission to come after us.

  “We need to move,” she muttered. She drew on what remained of her magic to regenerate her energy, although she knew she’d pay for it later. “That thing is going to be released soon.”

  She leaned against Frieda as they stumbled down Temple Row. Someone shouted in the distance, but she couldn’t make out the words. The guards who should have been on duty were either dead or gone – she hoped, in a moment of savage fury, that they were dead. Janus and his comrades might have started out with good intentions, but they’d jumped off the slippery slope long ago.

  “Hurry,” Frieda hissed. “They’re coming back.”

  “Get us into the alley,” Emily ordered. It hurt to talk. She suspected she’d pushed her magic too far in the last couple of hours. “But don’t try to glamour us unless there’s no other choice.”

  She could hear running footsteps as Frieda pulled them both into the alleyway. The Fists of Justice chanted prayers as they ran past the entrance, heading down to the damaged temple. Emily wondered, absently, how many of them would start to question their own doctrines before deciding the answer was probably none. The Fists of Justice would have been exposed to the entity for so long that it was unlikely any of them could even begin to question it.

  Janus must have gone the same way too, she thought, as she sagged against a stone wall. It smelled of garbage and worse, but she was glad it was there. The longer he spent with his god, the more he came to believe in its divinity.

  She resisted the urge to close her eyes as the shouting grew louder. Frieda could probably get her back to Sorcerers Row – if nothing else, Frieda could turn her into something lighter and carry her – but she didn’t dare sleep. This close to the presence, this close to its endless whispers…she knew it would leech its way into her mind. She knew it had already come far too close to crushing her.

  Frieda caught her arm. Emily jerked. She’d been closer to sleep than she’d realized.

  “They’re starting to probe the alleys,” Frieda hissed. “We have to move!”

  Emily forced herself upright. Her entire body felt drained, but somehow she managed to stumble down the alley. She heard doors being knocked down and windows smashed, men shouting and women screaming as the Fists of Justice tore the block apart looking for them. Emily prayed, silently, that they wouldn’t abuse the innocent civilians, but she knew that prayer was unlikely to be granted. The Fists had been humiliated, first by General Pollack and then by Emily herself. They’d be out for revenge.

  The noise grew louder as they reached a crossroads and stopped, trying to determine which way would take them further away from the hunters. Frieda wanted to go down the south passage, but Emily stopped her. She’d never liked hunting, but Alassa had talked enough about it for Emily to know the basics. One group of hunters would drive the animals forward while the other group lay in wait, knowing the animals would eventually run into their trap. The Fists of Justice would know they had to make their way back to Sorcerers Row. They’d be lying in wait.

  Which is why we meant to drive them away from Sorcerers Row, she thought. General Pollack had accounted for that, hadn’
t he? But what if that part of the plan didn’t work?

  She leaned against Frieda as they headed east, trying not to disturb the handful of people sleeping rough. Some of them woke up, looking around blearily. Emily tried to warn them to run as she and Frieda stumbled past, but it didn’t look as if they believed her. Besides, they probably didn’t have anywhere to go. She felt magic flickering over her head and gritted her teeth, hiding their presence as much as possible. The Fists of Justice were using magic to hunt for them.

  They won’t be able to get a solid look at us without a blood sample, she thought. And I don’t think I left any blood behind.

  She cursed under her breath. She’d been bleeding after the explosion…had she dripped some blood on the temple floor? Would they think to look for it? She didn’t think Justice could suggest it to his creators. She’d been too dazed to check before Frieda had yanked her out of the temple…

  Keep the defenses up, she told herself, sharply. Blood magic was dangerous – and more for her than anyone else – but it could be beaten. She knew how to defend herself, if she had a chance to focus. And…

  “Stop,” a voice bellowed.

  Emily turned. Five men ran towards them, carrying swords. Frieda stepped forward, lashing out with her magic. The first spells flashed out of existence against their armor, but the second set – picking up and throwing cobblestones – were gruesomely effective. Their victims were smashed to bloody paste.

  “Back to Sorcerers Row,” Frieda insisted.

  Emily nodded as they started to run. She could hear more shouts behind them as the other Fists caught the scent, following their dead comrades…in hindsight, she should have tried to make a diversion to give them a chance to sneak away. Too late for that now…she closed her eyes for a moment as they turned the corner, passing yet another smashed statue. The sight tore at her heart, even though she didn’t believe. No matter what happened, Beneficence would never be the same again.