“I know that look,” said Morganse. “You know who this Habreel is, don’t you?”
“I have a suspicion.”
The Queen crossed her arms and sat back in her chair. “Well, tell me who you suspect.”
Perhaps he should have kept his mouth shut but it was too late now. “I think he might be Torran Habreel. He used to be a Guardian.”
Morganse was stunned. “A Guardian?”
“He left during the war, when the Chosen were in control of Perizzi. Habreel quit and shortly after I released a few others from their service. They didn’t like what was happening in the city at the time and felt powerless. That’s the official story.”
“And the unofficial one?”
“After we regained the city, stories started to emerge. When the city was in chaos, they were accused of collusion with the Chosen, corruption and bribery. They were bad eggs so I got rid of them.”
“And now you think they’re working with Habreel.”
The Khevassar shrugged. “Perhaps. He would need a network of trustworthy people to create such widespread chaos. I’m gathering their names and I have people looking into their whereabouts.”
“Keep me informed. I want to know what the rabble-rouser has to say.”
“And in the meantime?” he asked.
Morganse shook her head sadly. “I will have to seriously consider the Regent’s request.”
The Regent had her over a barrel. If she did nothing then she would be seen as ignoring the plight of her people. While her hold on the throne was not as unstable as his, Morganse had plenty of detractors who would use this as another opportunity to remind the people of her decisions during the war. When she had refused an order the Mad King had sent thousands of her troops against a well-defended, heavily armoured enemy. To prevent further needless slaughter, and to protect her other children after the maiming of her only son, Morganse had abdicated the throne and announced the Mad King as Regent in her place. The difficulties that followed were eventually resolved, and, while most people understood her reasons, there were some who were still angry about what she’d done.
The Khevassar knew that, whatever she decided, Morganse would not allow the current situation to continue for long. People openly defying her rule by taking the law into their own hands would not be tolerated.
“I’ve sent birds to Olivia and Talandra, but I may have to make a decision before I hear back from them. I can’t wait too long.”
“I understand,” he said, slowly getting to his feet. Even that was getting more difficult every day. He took a moment to regain his balance. “But I hope you appreciate that if you also bring in a ban, you could be making an enemy of the Red Tower and the Grey Council.”
Morganse’s expression turned grave. “I know, and I also know who sits on the Grey Council and what they did for everyone during the war. But unless you can prove that Seekers aren’t involved, I don’t have much of a choice. I must protect the people, even if it puts children at risk.”
He knew the thought of it sickened her because he felt the same. There was no way to know which child would be born with magic. One of her own grandchildren could have it and if she agreed to a national ban, it could put them in grave danger.
Unfortunately maintaining the status quo and hoping things got better was not an option. In the short term banning Seekers would ease international pressures, appease the people and give the Guardians some time to find answers and those responsible. But without the Seekers the old ways of dealing with special children could return. Children simply disappeared and were never mentioned again. Don’t ask, don’t tell, and no one wanted that.
“I’ll keep you informed,” said the Khevassar, marching out of the room. He hoped to return to his office and find some good news waiting, but hope seemed to be in short supply.
CHAPTER 23
Habreel straightened his collar in the mirror and contemplated his reflection. The long navy jacket was a far cry from his old uniform, but these days it was all he had. Despite no longer being a Guardian he still maintained a certain level of discipline and he expected his followers to do the same. Whether that was being smartly dressed or not drinking during the day, he led by example and so far those closest to him were doing the same.
He concentrated on his clothing and studiously avoided looking his reflection in the eye. After recent events he was finding it difficult. He may not have killed the children himself, but he’d given the order to Akosh. He’d always known the task ahead was never going to be easy and that lasting change required considerable sacrifice. What he hadn’t understood was how many compromises it would require and how often he’d have to break his own moral code. In the past prayer had helped soothe his conscience, but lately it had given him little comfort. Habreel threw his old jacket over the mirror and left his room.
He hoped a walk through the city would remind him of what he was fighting for, but by the time he reached his office he felt no more at ease with himself. To make matters worse he knew from the expressions of those downstairs that she was already waiting for him.
Akosh was sitting on his chair, both feet resting on his desk, a bottle of something in one hand and two glasses in the other.
“Ah, Habreel, come in,” she said, gesturing for him to sit as if this were her office. “Come and celebrate with me.” She poured two generous measures of what smelled like whisky and slid one towards him across the desk. Habreel caught the glass before it fell on the floor but he didn’t drink.
“What are we celebrating?”
“The national ban, of course,” said Akosh. “A little bird in the palace has told me the Regent is preparing to make a public declaration in a few days.”
“Is this a joke? Are you playing a trick on me?”
Akosh sat upright and set both glass and bottle aside. Resting both hands flat on the desk she leaned towards him. “It’s true. The Regent is going to ban all Seekers in Zecorria. Messages have been sent to other rulers in the west and to Queen Talandra in Seveldrom, asking them to bring in a ban as well.”
There didn’t seem to be any hint of mockery in her expression. Deciding to believe her until his own sources confirmed it, Habreel sat back in his chair, idly rolling the glass back and forth between his hands.
Akosh frowned. “I thought you would be more excited. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
“It’s a good start, but I want the Regent and the others to do more.”
“I could arrange a few more accidents,” suggested Akosh.
“No. It wouldn’t help,” said Habreel. “The Regent is a moderate. If two didn’t sway him to take more decisive action, more deaths won’t change his mind. The best we can hope for at the moment is that other countries will follow suit. After that we can start to move things towards a total ban on all magic.”
Just as she opened her mouth to ask a question they heard an argument downstairs, followed by the sound of heavy feet on the steps. The office door flew open and Dannel appeared, trying to restrain a Yerskani woman from entering. Habreel vaguely recognised her as part of his network, but he didn’t know her by name.
“I’m sorry, Sir, she refused to wait,” apologised Dannel. “I told her you were in an important meeting.”
“I must speak with you,” insisted the woman. “I have urgent news.”
“What is your name?” asked Habreel, gesturing for Dannel to ease back. He released the woman but remained standing right behind her.
“Jaine. My sister works for you. She lives in Maldorn. It’s a town in southern Yerskania.”
Habreel glanced at the others but they were none the wiser. “Has something happened there?”
“My sister sent me a letter. She said the townspeople in Maldorn banded together and exiled the Seeker.”
“That’s wonderful news. My friend will take a statement which I promise to read later,” he said, gesturing at Dannel to escort her out of the room. Akosh had already lost interest and was now drinking directly
from the bottle.
“The Seeker was a local woman,” said Jaine as Dannel tried to drag her out.
“What?” asked Habreel, slowly getting to his feet. “Say that again.”
“She lived in Maldorn. She’s a blacksmith who’s lived there for years until they kicked her out.”
Dannel released her again and Habreel guided her into one of the two chairs in front of his desk. With a wave of his hand he dismissed Dannel who closed the door behind him. Across the desk Akosh was fixing the newcomer with a penetrating glare.
“Start at the beginning,” said Habreel. “Tell me what happened.”
“Spare no detail,” said Akosh, drawing Jaine’s focus which seemed to unsettle her.
“The Seeker tested the children as normal and all of them were clean. Then the Mayor came forward and spoke for the people. They asked the Seeker, Leonie, to leave and never come back, but she argued.”
“I’m not surprised if she’d lived there for a long time,” commented Akosh. “To be exiled by strangers is one thing, but to be made an outcast by your own friends and family is something totally different.”
There was a tone in her voice that made Habreel think she was speaking from personal experience. He made a mental note and filed it away for later. “What happened next?”
“When the Mayor wouldn’t change his mind, she took off her mask in front of everyone.”
“By the Maker,” hissed Habreel. “Did it change their minds?”
Jaine shook her head. “It made them angrier because she’d been lying to them for years. Pretending to leave town on business only to ride back the following day wearing a Seeker’s mask. In the end she fled town and that was the last anyone saw of her.”
Habreel saw Jaine to the door, asked her to leave her address with Dannel and thanked her. Once she was gone he sat down and seriously contemplated drinking his whisky despite the hour.
“Have we really been so blind?” he said, asking himself as much as Akosh.
Up to now, along with everyone else he’d always assumed Seekers travelled across the country, going from one village to the next before returning to the Red Tower. That was how it had been in the old days. But what if everyone was wrong? What if Seekers were living among the very people they tested, hiding in plain sight?
If the Seeker in Maldorn was not an isolated incident then it meant the Red Tower had people everywhere.
“Why would they need such a network?” said Habreel, thinking aloud.
“Control,” said Akosh. She had set her glass aside and suddenly looked sober. “They have an invisible network of people who see everything. With spies everywhere, in every country, the Red Tower hears everything. Every word is probably reported back to their leaders.”
It seemed unlikely and more than a little paranoid. Habreel raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Are you really so naïve?” snapped Akosh. “Don’t you want to destroy them? Get rid of the Seekers and all magic?”
“I do.”
“Then we will use their own people against them.”
“What if this was just an isolated incident?” asked Habreel.
Akosh sneered at him. “As if that matters.”
“More innocent people could be hurt.”
“We are far beyond that now,” she said, her voice utterly devoid of mercy. “Spread news of this throughout your network. Every person in every village and town across the world should know that the Seeker could be someone living among them. Their friends, their neighbours, maybe even someone in their own family could be working for the Red Tower. They will tear each other apart trying to find a spy.” The delight in her voice was terrifying as she contemplated the widespread violence that would follow. Habreel knew that fear and paranoia would spread like wildfire. Hatred of magic and the Red Tower would reach new levels.
“We can’t,” he said, but she didn’t hear or most likely didn’t care.
“This could be exactly what we need. Every ruler will be forced to ban all Seekers. Perhaps even take it a step further and ban all magic.”
“We can’t,” said Habreel, more loudly this time. He slammed his glass down on the desk, splashing whisky everywhere. “It would be chaos.”
He could see it so clearly. Mob rule. Friends and family turning on each other for no reason. People being dragged out of their beds and accused. All it would take was the discovery of a golden mask among their belongings. It wouldn’t be difficult to make one and plant it on someone you didn’t like. People wouldn’t wait to see the spy punished by the law, they would act. No one would be safe. No one.
Mages were the real enemy. If the violence had to continue, then let them be the target. His ultimate goal had always been a total ban on magic. That was the only way to be safe. One mage had torn the world apart and he could not allow it to happen again. He would not.
Until now the targets and sacrifices had been carefully selected. But this could cause widespread violence on a scale they’d not seen in ten years.
“I will not allow you to do this,” he said.
The fury in Akosh’s eyes was so great he thought she was going to leap across the table and kill him. A moment later it was gone and the seductress returned. She sauntered around the desk and sat down on the edge close to him. When she spoke her voice was calm and her smile inviting. Habreel preferred her anger. At least it was honest. “This gives us an opportunity. It’s everything you’ve been working towards for years.”
“But the cost—”
“How long did it take you to build up your network of followers? How many years? How much have you personally sacrificed to reach this moment?” she asked, leaning forward. Habreel shied away from her as if she were a venomous snake. Realising seduction was pointless she quickly changed tactic, settling for brutal honesty. “We’re so close. If you don’t do this now, we may never get another opportunity like it. When there are no more accidents, a ban on Seekers could quickly disappear. If we don’t reveal this, then all of your hard work will have been for nothing. We must act now.”
Akosh crossed her arms and waited for his decision.
Not long ago Habreel would have prayed for wisdom, but now it seemed as if his faith had abandoned him as well. He felt utterly adrift.
More than the famed coat, the rule of law had been his armour when he’d been a Guardian of the Peace. During the war, when the Chosen had left him feeling powerless, he’d walked away from everything he knew in search of something better. Over time he’d found others like him, the dispossessed and those cast out for daring to think differently. Hope that change would come in time had quickly evaporated. Habreel had slowly come to the realisation that the only way things would improve was through direct action.
As he wrestled with his decision Habreel wondered if Akosh had planned this all along. When they’d first met she claimed to want the same thing, an end to magic, but he’d doubted her from the start. Her own secret agenda had not conflicted with his until now. She was useful and had been reliable, but now he was beginning to wonder if it was time to get rid of her. Akosh had powers and influence he didn’t understand. Perhaps she was trying to control him even now.
He was faced with an impossible choice. The danger to others was clear. Spreading news of this among his followers would result in violence and murder. There was no way to know if what emerged after the dust settled would be better. Part of him also wondered if it could be any worse.
Perhaps this was why he had been unable to look himself in the mirror that morning. Some small part of him had instinctively known he would cross this line.
“Send word to everyone. Let them know the truth about the Seekers,” said Habreel. “But make sure they know who to blame.”
Her smile was chilling. “A wise decision, but I think there needs to be a final push. Something more to make sure they lose all faith in the Red Tower and its people.”
“Do I even want to know?” he asked, more than a little afraid of what the answer
might be.
“Leave it to me,” said Akosh. “It will be a surprise!”
She went out of the door in a hurry, a passionate servant of chaos.
Habreel picked up his glass and drained it in one gulp. It burned all the way down his throat and the fire spread from his stomach. It wasn’t enough to extinguish the terror that ran through him at her words.
“May the Maker forgive me,” he whispered in the empty room.
CHAPTER 24
Danoph had rarely spent this much time inside the Red Tower before and the longer he sat in the hospital room, the more uncomfortable he became. So far he’d managed to avoid any serious injuries and had only seen Master Yettle in the classroom when he demonstrated healing. Now the slight man was studying him very closely as they sat together in a strange room inside the tower.
The nightmares were getting worse again. Whatever the Grey Council had done previously had worn off and now every night he dreaded going to sleep.
As Yettle stared intently at him, and somehow beyond his skin into him, Danoph studied the runes on the back of the door. The writing was ancient, from a dead language, but somehow it seemed familiar. Perhaps he’d read about it in the library or seen something similar in the past. He felt if he concentrated hard enough it might just be possible to decipher them.
“Don’t look at the runes if they make you feel queasy,” said Yettle, his eyes returning to the present.
Danoph didn’t feel sick at all. He was going to ask what Yettle meant, but changed his mind. The door didn’t concern him. It was the tower itself that made his bones ache. Standing close to it made him feel as if he were walking naked through a blizzard, icy daggers pummelling his flesh all over. By comparison being inside the tower was agony.
New arrivals often spoke about it being unnerving, but he’d never heard anyone say that it hurt them. Pain blossomed somewhere behind his eyes. This was also why he spent as little time as possible in the library.
“Do you see anything?” he asked Master Yettle, gesturing at himself.
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