Chapter Ten

“Stay on your knees,” the guard shouted. “Don’t move a muscle!”

Elaine kept her face impassive as she tested the runes, one by one. Millicent had taught her something about keeping her mind on task, even when she was being repeatedly humiliated; it galled her to be grateful, but in some ways it had been good training for being taken prisoner. Being covered in rotting eggs and smelly fish was a minor annoyance. The magician had watched her for several hours, then clearly decided she was trapped and stalked off to inflict himself on someone else. He would have been less confident, Elaine was sure, if he had known she was practically the mistress of small magics.

She smiled to herself as she carefully unlocked the magic binding hers in place. It wasn’t particularly subtle, after all; the designers, she suspected, had thought in terms of holding someone behind a locked door. But she preferred to think of her magic as water, pouring through a sieve and searching for weaknesses. Inch by inch, she wore down the magic bindings and prepared herself to strike.

“Let me go,” a woman screamed. “Please!”

“Silence,” a guard shouted back, as he hauled her to her feet. “You’re the first to face the noose.”

Elaine gritted her teeth. The magicians were gone, but they’d be back the minute she revealed she could break out. If she moved now …

She sensed a sudden flicker of anticipation from Johan, followed by a deafening explosion that shook the ground. A colossal fireball rose up from the direction of City House, sending waves of magic through the air. Elaine didn’t hesitate; she unlocked the remaining bindings, sent the wooden plank crashing to the ground and rose to her feet. A dozen guards drew their weapons, but they seemed stunned, almost uncoordinated. Elaine threw a stunning spell at them, realising dully that Alfred had to be dead. The complex layers of compulsion he’d woven with his voice and magic were gone.

“Help us,” someone called. “Let us go!”

Elaine braced herself, then cast a second spell. The mundanes in the crowd weren’t bound in any runic planks; their stocks fell off, instantly, as the spell did its work. A handful of rushing guardsmen came face to face with angry prisoners, who were scooping up weapons from the men Elaine had stunned. She turned and hurried, limping slightly, towards the remains of City House as the guards clashed with the former prisoners, who weren’t in any mood to show mercy. Half of the guards seemed so utterly perplexed that they were dropping their weapons and running for their lives.

Good, she thought, as she shaped a third spell. A magician, running towards her with wand raised, fell to the ground as her spell struck him, tearing into his protections and turning them against him. His wand hit the ground; she picked it up, tested it lightly and then cast a greater spell. Let’s see how they fight without their master.

A large shape leapt across the field and came to rest beside her. Elaine smiled as she recognised Daria’s wolf-form, then hurried after her as the sound of fighting grew louder. A set of confused-looking guardsmen were staring at the weapons in their hands, as if they weren’t sure what to do with them. Elaine stunned them quickly, before they had a chance to make up their mind, and followed Daria towards a large cart parked by the side of the road, with Dread and Johan standing next to it. She smiled in honest delight – and relief – as she saw them.

“You stink,” Johan said, as he wrapped his arms around her. “Are you all right?”

“I’ve had worse,” Elaine said. She smiled at the thought. Compared to Deferens, Alfred hadn’t been a particularly unpleasant captor. But then, he hadn’t known who she was. “What did you do?”

“Smuggled a barrel of Firepowder into the building,” Dread said. “Alfred is dead, I believe.”

“I sensed his compulsion web collapsing,” Elaine said, as Johan let go of her gingerly. “Most of his victims are going to be a little bit confused.”

“And his prisoners are breaking free,” Dread observed. “Now what?”

“Some of us are poised to try to take control, given that most of the City Fathers are dead,” Sarah said. “You four, however, are going to a safe house.”

Johan held up a hand. “Shouldn’t we stay to help?”

“Better not,” Dread said. “The locals will need to sort this mess out for themselves.”

Elaine nodded, too tired to argue. Her shoulders were aching badly, even though the plank had been dumped back in the park. And her shirt and trousers were covered in muck … she swallowed, silently grateful she couldn’t smell herself. It was easy to see that Daria had carefully placed herself as far from Elaine as she could, while remaining on the cart. Her sense of smell was probably a liability now.

Johan reached over and held her hand, gently, as the cart rocked to life, heading towards the Merchant Quarter. Elaine closed her eyes and tried to relax, then opened them again as the cart came to a halt. They’d stopped outside a middle-class house, a small building that would be utterly unaffordable in the Golden City; she smiled, tiredly, at the thought as Sarah opened the door and shooed them into the building.

“There’s a small ward around the doors and windows,” she said, once they were all inside and the door was shut. “I’ll send someone around with new clothes, but otherwise I just want you to wait. Hopefully, you can leave tomorrow with the rest of us, as planned.”

Elaine nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “Good luck.”

“There’s a bathroom upstairs with cold running water,” Sarah added. She turned to look at Dread. “If I don’t come back within a couple of days, assume the worst and head out of the city on your own.”

“Understood,” Dread said.

Elaine yawned, then turned and stumbled up the stairs. The house was nicely decorated, but there was no sign of any occupants. She puzzled over it for a long moment, then decided that the Leveller creed would probably appeal to a great many merchants. Hawke had been a merchant too, she recalled; a wealthy man with no hope of laying claim to any political power. And his daughter had been brutalised by a magician while he’d been forced to watch, helpless to save her. Blowing up the Watchtower, for him, must have been a dream come true.

The bathroom was larger than she’d expected, the bathtub itself easily large enough for two people. She turned on the tap, then tore the remains of her shirt and trousers away from her body. The stains wouldn’t come out, even with magic. It went against the grain to throw away anything – the orphanage had repaired everything, passing it down from child to child, until it was nothing more than rags – but she didn’t think there was any choice. She dumped the tattered remains in the basket and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was pale, her hair looked a mess and there were nasty red marks all over her shoulders. It looked very much as though someone had been beating her.

And my eyes are far too noticeable, she thought. Maybe they’d spared her the worst of the abuse, while she’d been a prisoner; the mundane guards had kept a sharp eye on her, but they hadn’t done worse than parade her around the city. They’ll be telling everyone about them now.

She placed her fingers in the water, using a tiny spell to warm it, then carefully stepped into the bath and sat down. It felt heavenly to just relax and let the warmth work its way through her skin, but there wasn’t time to enjoy it for more than a few minutes. She splashed warm water through her hair, using magic to work out the remains of the rotten fruit, and then removed it from the water with another spell before washing her body down with soap. The other prisoners wouldn’t have any way to do it, without washing themselves thoroughly. She felt a stab of pity as she realised they’d be smelling for days.

They would have killed every foreigner in the city, she thought, numbly. She’d known the Empire wasn’t perfect, but it still shocked her to see so many people turning on their fellow citizens. And Falcone’s Nest needed the people it wanted to kill. They would have doomed themselves by exterminating the foreigners.

She shook her head slowly, then climbed out of the bath. Her body looked bruised, so she cast a handful of spells to speed up the healing. She’d pay for it later – everything came with a price – but she needed to be back up to normal as soon as possible. Taking one final look in the mirror – and casting a glamour to hide her eyes – she donned a dressing gown and walked out of the door. Daria was waiting outside, looking relieved.

“You smell better now,” she said. “But you should take another bath tomorrow.”

Elaine yawned. “Tomorrow,” she said, firmly. “What happened to you?”

Daria shrugged. “Landed amongst the crowd, ducked down and made my way out between their legs,” she said. “A couple of them took stabs at me with knives, but I survived.”

She paused. “Elaine, there’s a Traveller meeting post nearby,” she added, rising to her feet and following Elaine. “I think I should go there. They may be willing to help.”

“Or at least spread the word,” Elaine mused. A werewolf could move far faster than a human, even on horseback. “Will they get involved?”

“I don’t know,” Daria said. She sighed. “You know how they’re treated, sometimes.”

Elaine nodded as she walked into the bedroom. Born werewolves had near-perfect control, even when the full moon was in the sky, but made werewolves turned violent when the moon rose. Normally, they were controlled by their families, assuming they had a family. A feral werewolf could be incredibly dangerous. No one in their right mind wanted to live close to a werewolf camp, for fear of getting bitten. It would, at the very least, ruin the victim’s life.

“Tell them that Deferens won’t hesitate to kill them,” she said, as she dropped the gown and climbed into bed. It was large enough for them to share, without being uncomfortably intimate. “He won’t, you know.”

“I know,” Daria said, irked. “But they may prefer not to believe it.”

She leant forward. “I’ll leave once we get out of the city,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” Elaine said, curtly. “But I’ve had worse.”

Daria gave her a sharp look. “If you want to talk about it,” she said, “you can always talk to me.”

Elaine sighed. She didn’t want to talk about it, not when she had had worse. Deferens had tried to break her, body and soul. He would have succeeded, too, if she’d been anyone else; she’d have been nothing more than a mindless slave. The prospect of mere death, even after public humiliation, seemed rather less worrying. And yet …

“I can’t believe how quickly everything came apart,” she said, slowly. “Alfred must have had the whole scheme planned in advance, then … then he just took advantage of us destroying the bridges.”

“Unless there’s a spy in the Levellers,” Daria said. “Alfred must have decided to let us go ahead, rather than try to stop us. If he believes the crap he was spewing out, he might have figured that losing the bridges wasn’t a complete disaster.”

Elaine shook her head. “He’d still have had only a few hours to lay the groundwork for his coup,” she said. “Getting the City Fathers into the City House alone would have been difficult.”

“But not impossible,” Daria said. “He did it.”

“I know,” Elaine said. She looked up at her friend. “Is the Empire really that fragile?”

Daria considered the question for a long moment. “You were born in the Golden City, weren’t you?”

Elaine nodded, shortly.

“And you haven’t seen many places outside it,” Daria added. “Falcone’s Nest isn’t the only city with delusions of grandeur about the past, or the only one that resents the Empire’s absolute dominance. You know who wields the real power in the kingdoms.”

“The Court Wizards,” Elaine said.

“They’re appointed by the Grand Sorcerer and sent out to rule, in all but name,” Daria said, softly. “Don’t you think that’s resented? There are places that have been reduced to poverty because of decisions taken in the Golden City – or because of decisions that were then blamed on the Golden City. Someone convinces the Grand Sorcerer to support them and hundreds of other people get the short end of the stick. Their taxes go to the Golden City and what do they get in return?”

“ … Government,” Elaine said.

Daria smiled. “Do they need it?”

She met Elaine’s eyes. “That hatred was always under the surface, but held in check by fear,” she said. “The Golden City always controlled the vast majority of sorcerers … as well as the road network, the shipping and the crystal balls. Holding the Empire in its grasp wasn’t that hard. But now, the Court Wizards are largely dead, the Inquisitors are weaker than they’ve ever been and the last Grand Sorcerer is dead. The smaller kingdoms have never had a better chance to break free.”

“Except for the minor detail that Deferens has a swarm of dragons under his command,” Elaine pointed out, curtly. “They’d need more than luck to overcome them.”

“They think the dragons are rumour,” Daria said. “And all this chaos only benefits the Witch-King.”

Elaine nodded. The only hope of a coordinated response to the Witch-King lay with the Empire … and the Empire had already been subverted, placed under Vlad Deferens. He had to realise he was weakening his own position, but did he care? The Witch-King had presumably made sure he didn’t realise just how dangerous his position had become.

But it may not be that dangerous, Elaine thought, slowly. A swarm of dragons would be enough to cow most of the kingdoms, certainly the ones without magicians of their own.

“Then we have to leave tomorrow, whatever else happens,” she said, firmly. “Thank you for coming for me.”

“You broke free on your own,” Daria said. “You’d have been fine without me.”

Elaine shrugged. She had her doubts.

“I hope so,” she said. “Goodnight.”

“I want you to try to contact Johan first,” Daria said. “He was near-panicking over losing touch with you.”

Elaine closed her eyes. Johan?

Elaine, Johan sent back. There was a wash of relief – and something else – that made her smile. He cared about her. Are you all right?

I think the blow on the head scrambled my thoughts, then the runes scrambled them a little more, Elaine sent. Are you all right?

There was a long pause. She could sense his doubts – and hesitation – before he finally answered.

I’d like to talk about that tomorrow, he sent, finally. You need your sleep.

“He wants me to sleep,” Elaine said, out loud. “I’m not a child, you know.”

“But you’ve been through hell,” Daria said, firmly. “Sleep.”

I will, Elaine sent. Goodnight.

She reduced the link until Johan was nothing more than a reassuring presence at the back of her mind, then looked at Daria. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Daria said. She rose and headed for the door. “I need to check with Dread, then go for a bath. I’ll sleep on the floor, so don’t worry about me.”

“You can share the bed,” Elaine protested. A thought struck her. “Or do I smell that bad?”

“Goodnight,” Daria said, firmly.

Elaine closed her eyes, but sleep didn’t come easy, despite her tiredness. Alfred’s face kept flashing in front of her mind, mocking her pretensions that the Witch-King could be defeated by mere mortals. She could have died in the crowd, crushed by the throng or stoned to death, and no one would ever have known what had happened to her … and, without her, could the Witch-King be stopped? Even with her, she wasn’t sure what to do. There was so much she didn’t understand …

He’s a lich, she thought. There couldn’t be any other answer, not when any form of stasis would have held his thoughts in suspension along with his body. The Witch-King had to be awake and aware. Magic must be keeping him alive – or undead. And that means magic can stop him.

It was an odd thought, but she thought there were clues. She’d been turned into objects often enough and there were safeties woven into the spells to make sure she didn’t go insane, no matter how long she stayed utterly immobile. Millicent had been fond of turning her into a statue and just leaving her there, knowing Elaine would be blamed for not freeing herself. It was odd, but could the Witch-King have used similar spells to keep himself relatively sane, if inanimate? She was sure he had to be sane or he would have killed or exposed himself a long time ago.

Unless he’s just going mad very slowly, she thought. Something was nagging at her mind, but she couldn’t make sense of it. That might explain why he’s tearing the Empire apart too.

She scowled as tiredness overwhelmed her. There had to be a solution – and there had to be a way to make sense of what he was doing, even if it was seemingly impossible. She knew more about magic than anyone else, even the Witch-King himself. But her knowledge didn’t cover Johan’s power, or what the Witch-King was doing. It was immensely frustrating …

And, with that thought, she drifted off to sleep.