E MILY HAD BEEN EXPECTING SOMETHING , but the knife had caught her by surprise.
She’d chosen to keep Virgil talking, while she gathered herself as best she could. Marah hadn’t killed her, and she could have, and that suggested Marah was unsure of just what she was doing and why. Or of what she wanted from the whole affair. Emily let Virgil talk, all the while gathering her power through the chat parchments and readying herself to move. He made no attempt to search her, somewhat to her surprise. But if she hadn’t anticipated the trap, and prepared accordingly, she might have found herself in trouble.
Marah did… something . Emily blinked in surprise as she realized Marah had thrust her awareness through the blood link, setting fire to her own blood. Risky as hell, the sort of thing that could easily get out of control… too dangerous for Emily to even consider, but Marah knew little about blood magic and her ignorance had actually worked in her favor. Virgil staggered, his magic flailing around as the blood burned with a white-hot fury; Emily gritted her teeth, focused her own power on the wards, and broke free. Virgil gathered himself a second later and launched a fireball at her, flickering and flaring with hints of a hidden spell. Emily darted backwards, barely aware of Marah being dragged out of the chamber, and cast a levitation spell on the nearest crate, picking it up and throwing it into the fireball’s path. It exploded with staggering force, pieces of debris flying everywhere. There really had been a second spell hidden within the first.
Void would have approved , Emily thought, as she hurled more crates at Virgil. He was smart enough to know he was in pain, using force punches to deflect or destroy the crates rather than try to block or duck. Whoever taught him, taught him well .
Her mind raced. Who was he? Everything she knew about the Wild Fox was almost certainly a lie. The concept of background checks barely existed in the Nameless World; it was staggeringly unlikely anyone would bother following up on what they’d been told, certainly when the story was vague enough to sound plausible without providing enough detail to let someone start questioning the narrative. His face, his voice… everything about him could be a lie, carefully changed to hide his true origins. He’d hinted he knew her… but did he? She thought she could account for all the possible suspects.
t could be someone who went through Martial Magic with me , she thought. There had been quite a few students who’d thought she’d been allowed to take a class she wasn’t qualified for, something she could hardly deny. They’d shut up after she’d killed Shadye, but… one of those students? Or someone else? It could even be someone from Whitehall who passed me in the corridors .
Virgil gathered himself, his magic flickering and flaring as he battled for control of the wards. Emily watched him warily, trying to peer through his glamours. His? It was quite possible he was actually a she , wearing male clothing… it was odd, to say the least, that he had never tried to take sexual advantage of Marah, or anyone else as far as she knew. He’d been ready to betray her, and send her to an agonizing death, yet he’d never taken advantage of her? It was odd… and yet, Emily could see the logic. If everyone thought the Wild Fox was a man, she could simply change clothes and walk past the search parties…
She braced herself, rebuilding her damaged wards as best she could. She could see a dozen ways to kill him, but she wanted – needed – to take him alive. There were too many questions that needed answering, starting with just what he’d been doing with the slaves. And the kidnapped children. Emily didn’t like any of the possible answers, particularly if the sorcerer had found a way to harvest their magic. She’d seen living batteries before, but this…
Her eyes narrowed as Virgil looked back at her. He wasn’t a necromancer. He was sane. And that meant he could be very dangerous… no, there was no doubt about it. Emily could sense his power flickering through the wards, trying to subvert her subversions… she braced herself, then lashed out at the wards herself. They were already badly weakened, the threads of magic coming apart at the seams. Virgil grinned at her – his glamour made him stunningly attractive, calling to her even though she knew the sensation wasn’t real – and lifted his hand. Emily darted to one side as a pulse of raw magic blasted past her and struck the rear wall. That was too strong…
She gritted her teeth and tossed back a hail of fireballs, not expecting any to get through his defenses. The fireballs exploded one by one, with no rhyme or reason; she wondered, suddenly, if he’d managed to weaponize the cancellation spell or if he was snuffing out her spells through force of will. If the latter… she suspected it boded ill. Most magicians knew better than to drain themselves dry by reckless casting, which meant he was either an idiot – and she knew better than that – or he had immense reserves to draw on. She shrugged and cast two more spells, crafting hidden surprises inside both of them. His wards flared, deflecting the obvious threats and yet missing the more dangerous charms. Emily tightened her mind, sending her awareness into his wards. They started to weaken… he snorted, then shoved the wards forward, severing the link that bound them to him. Emily had to admit he’d reacted well, doing the only thing he could to save himself.
Virgil launched himself into the air and flew towards her, wrapped in a ball of magic. Emily gritted her teeth and tightened her own spells, an instant before Virgil slammed his magic into hers, their powers clashing on a dozen different levels simultaneously. Emily could feel him trying to force his way through her defenses through brute force, yet the real threat was more subtle, half hidden within the wards. She pushed back hard, channeling magic into the floor and through the wood, then jumped back to allow Virgil to step on the hidden charm. The floor exploded, magic blasting upwards; Virgil didn’t try to fight, but instead allowed himself to be blown into the air, his wards crashing into the ceiling hard enough to crack stone. Emily was surprised he hadn’t been blown into the open air, yet… she shook her head as she threw more pieces of debris at him, forcing him to keep his head down as she prepared a more serious threat. It wasn’t going to be easy to keep him alive…
He wants to kill me , Emily thought. Marah had been promised that Emily would be taken prisoner, and kept alive, but Virgil had no intention of keeping that promise. It gives him an advantage .
Virgil landed neatly on the far side of the warehouse, eying her darkly. Emily felt sweat prickling down her back, a grim reminder she had pushed herself too much over the last few hours. Perhaps it had been a mistake to allow herself to walk into the trap, perhaps she should have waited… she shook her head, dismissing the thought. There was no time… she shaped a simple lightspell, shining a brilliant light into his eyes, and launched a handful of corkscrew charms after it. Virgil didn’t try to match her strength directly, not when it would have left them both badly drained. Instead, his form shimmered and multiplied…
Illusion , Emily thought, coldly. She’d done it herself, against maddened necromancers who couldn’t be relied upon to sort reality from fiction. Most of the images moving to surround her, running up the walls or hanging from the ceiling as if the gravity had suddenly reversed, weren’t real. They couldn’t be. What is the point…?
The images started casting spells, all of them. Emily blinked in surprise as her defenses were suddenly pelted with all sorts of charms, coming from a dozen different directions. The illusions were real… they couldn’t be, they really couldn’t. It was possible to bilocate – she’d done that too – but there was no way someone could split themselves into thirteen selves, not without a demon’s assistance. And the price for that would be staggering… she remembered Virgil getting Marah into place to take a shot at her and wondered, again, if there was a demon involved somewhere. It wasn’t impossible, not after everything that had happened over the last year…
She tightened her shields, reaching out with her mind. It wasn’t proper bilocation, she noted, but… something odd. The images weren’t precisely illusions, yet… they weren’t real either. The wards were twitching around her, magic flickering and flaring in and out of existence… she recalled, suddenly, a stage magician using misdirection to keep eyes off the real trick. She looked closer, spotting the threads of magic running through the walls. He’d hidden spell circuits within the stone, using them to channel his power… her eyes narrowed. They should be failing already, the sheer power involved overwhelming the runes and boiling into the air. It made no sense, but… she channeled power through her own mind, feeling it into the runes herself. The illusions grew brighter, more solid, and then shattered into nothingness. She saw the spellwork flaring, an instant before it was gone.
Clever , she thought. Conjuring something from raw magic was incredibly difficult, and making it last was even harder. Void had done it, to show off his power and skill, but even he had found it hard to do it often. There was no point unless one had near-unlimited power. He used the spell circuits to give his illusions a hint of reality .
She straightened and looked at Virgil, who didn’t look even remotely winded. She hoped that was an illusion too, a glamour like the one that was messing with her mind. She’d been told stories about magicians who had won duels they should have lost because they managed to make themselves look like winners even though they were coming to the limits of their endurance. She feared that wasn’t the case here, not when he was spending power too freely. A thought crossed her mind and she carefully dropped a piece of parchment on the floor, hiding the movement behind a series of attack spells…
“Lady Emily,” Virgil said. “See what you have wrought.”
Something exploded, behind her. Emily jumped to the side instinctively, drawing on magic to hurl herself right across the warehouse. A… thing landed where she’d been, moving so quickly it was hard to get a clear view. It was humanoid, easily a third again taller than herself… she thought, for a moment, that she was looking at a golem, or a homunculus, before realizing it was something far worse. An iron giant, something out of a steampunk fantasy… she couldn’t help thinking whoever had designed it had taken the concept of a knight in armor to its logical conclusion. They’d taken out the human and replaced him with a metal monstrosity, powered by magic and science…
Virgil laughed. “And to think we owe it all to you.”
The iron giant came at her, metal fists raised. Emily cursed under her breath as she launched a fireball at the metal monster, a fireball that should have been hot enough to burn through the armor and turn the insides to molten metal. Instead, the fireball vanished before it could get close enough to do real damage. She cursed again as she dodged a mighty blow, realizing someone had taken Adam’s ideas and improved upon them, creating a steampunk monster that was partly immune to magic. The airships were effectively immune, too…
Not quite , she thought, as she hurled more crates into the giant. They passed through the wards without being stopped but crashed harmlessly against the giant’s armor. Emily darted back again, all too aware that hitting a man like that would have – at the very least – cracked his ribs and put him out of the fight. I could take it apart, if only I could hit it .
Her mind raced as the giant came after her, looking for options. It didn’t seem to have any offensive weapons, save for its fists, but the combination of magitech runes and raw strength would be enough to take her down with a single blow. Sergeant Harkin had been the strongest man she’d ever met, yet he’d been a wimp compared to the giant. She needed to get something into place to hit it, but… nothing she could do in a hurry would take it down. Unless…
She launched herself into the air, hovering above the giant. It didn’t have a proper face – whoever had designed the metal monster had used etchings to imply a humanoid face – but she couldn’t help thinking it looked angry. Its hands snapped at the air beneath her… she felt a twinge of admiration for whoever had invented it, mingled with fear. If one giant was enough to threaten her, she dreaded to think what a whole army of them could do.
Virgil laughed, and aimed a spell at her. Emily let herself drop before she could think better of it, yanking the teleport gem from her neck and reprogramming it as she landed on top of the giant and shoving the necklace around its arm. It clearly wasn’t intelligent, she noted, as it sent her flying. A human would have noticed the opportunity, if not the danger. The teleport gem triggered a moment later, snapping half the iron giant halfway into the Blighted Lands. The other half collapsed to the floor and lay still.
“Give up,” Emily said. She forced herself to stand. It was important not to look weak, drained, or defeated. “There’s no way out now.”
Virgil eyed her for a long moment, then advanced. Emily readied herself, inching backwards. She was surprised he wasn’t trying to run, but… he was skilled, and he clearly thought he could still come out ahead. The magic boiling around him was growing stronger by the minute, shaping up in a manner that bothered her deeply. He was a strange mixture of incredibly powerful and skilled, yet… not. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the power flowing around him, into him. Her heart sank a second later. He really was drawing on power from somewhere else.
He made necromancy practical , Emily thought. Lady Barb had been right, all those years ago. And that makes him very powerful, very dangerous, and sane .
She nudged the chat parchment into place, then kept walking backwards. Virgil strode onwards, his power pulsing against her wards. His glamour melted into a cold, hard stare that bored into her… she was oddly amused to note he’d kept the singed beard. She’d assumed it was part of the glamour, although it could easily be a perfectly mundane false beard. Most magicians tended to sneer at mundane tricks like wigs and makeup, but Virgil was clearly more innovative – and accepting – than most. She let herself be pushed into a corner, her magic throwing up a final barrier. Virgil didn’t seem inclined to gloat or linger over his victory. He was too practical not to finish it as quickly as possible. Emily would have approved if he hadn’t been trying to kill her.
Virgil raised his hand, power crackling around his skin, and stepped on the chat parchment. Emily struck at once, channeling her mind through the parchment and slamming a series of commands into his wards. His power started to drain rapidly, flowing into the battery she’d prepared earlier; his protections started to come apart, the spells breaking up as she combined a hacking attack with simply draining as much of his power as possible. Virgil staggered forward, trying to get away from the attack, but it was already too late. The parchment was stuck to his foot. He’d have to remove his shoes to get rid of it and…
She could have killed him. It would be so easy to put a bolt of magic through his head now. He knew it. He glared at her, trying to face death with dignity, then relaxed – slightly – as he realized she wasn’t going to strike a fatal blow. His hand dropped to his sword, trying to pull it free even as she tightened her grip on him. He was trying to secure what remained of his protections, to keep his magic from draining… Emily frowned, inwardly, as he managed to isolate many of his spells. It was impressive, all the more so as he couldn’t have expected such an attack. His sword came free, the charmed blade cutting through the strands of magic; Emily shaped a single spell and cast it, aiming at his wrist and slicing through the bare flesh. The sword dropped to the ground, blood spilling around the blade. Emily saw the blood start to boil as Virgil tried to channel magic through it, too late. She tightened her grip on him as his magic failed, trying to freeze him in a single moment of time. If he had any sort of suicide charm, something designed to keep him from talking, it wouldn’t have a chance to work.
He struggled, his lips moving soundlessly. She could feel him trying to draw on what remained of his power, trying to shape spells… trying, even, to reach into the battery she’d filled and use the power she’d stored there. But it was already too late.
Emily allowed herself a hot flash of triumph. She’d won.