Chapter Twenty-Three

Admitting mistakes did not come easily to Duncan Conidian.

He’d made a mistake when he’d allowed Johan to be bullied by the rest of his family. He’d made a mistake when he’d treated Jamal like a prince, despite his increasingly unpleasant behaviour. And he’d made another mistake by thinking that it would be easy to mend bridges between himself and his second son. For Duncan, blood was everything; for Johan, it was little more than an awkward relationship with a family of monsters.

The remains of the table lay in front of him. There were spells that could cause that much damage, but they had to be spoken aloud. Johan, on the other hand, seemed to have used his magic to destroy the table with nary a word. Somehow, he’d managed to develop control of his magic far quicker than even Jamal ... as also evidenced by how quickly and effectively he’d frozen Jolie. The younger boy was still in shock. His despised elder brother shouldn’t have been able to just ... stop him. But Johan had.

Duncan had ordered the rest of the family to their bedrooms, leaving him alone. He had no time for his wife’s perpetual unconcern, or his daughter’s new habit of telling him the truth, no matter how hurtful, but for once he wasn’t sure what to do next. Johan seemed utterly unwilling to meet him halfway – and, indeed, Duncan knew that he had a point. Why should he be loyal? And offering him Marina had been another mistake. Johan had known that he would never have a magical wife, if indeed he was permitted to have a wife at all. A born magician would have jumped at the chance, no matter what Marina thought about it. Johan, on the other hand, had refused her.

There has to be something he wants, Duncan thought, desperately. Deferens, damn him, had been right about one thing. Johan represented a whole new field of study and the people that controlled access would have a chance to make themselves rich and powerful. Who knew how much wealthy mundanes would pay for access to magic? But what can I offer him?

He turned the thought over and over in his mind, but came up with no answer. Johan might not take the vault Duncan had offered him, but if he chose to make use of his new powers he would never lack for money. What else did he even want? Duncan could withdraw his objections to his planned career, but those plans had already been derailed by his sudden development of magic. Johan wouldn’t want to be a Civil Servant when he could be a Court Wizard ...

And if he chooses to enter the Peerless School he can apply for a scholarship if I refuse to pay. Duncan thought, grimly. Or one of the family’s enemies will offer to pay for him.

He opened his mouth to call for Charity – perhaps she could go and talk some sense into her brother – and then closed it again as a maid ran into the room, carrying a black-edged envelope. Duncan took it, noting absently just how shocked the maid seemed by the mess on the floor, and opened it, skimming the letter rapidly. A magician was dead, seemingly killed by a mundane. And it had all the hallmarks, according to the Inquisitors, of a planned assassination.

Damn it, he thought, turning and walking towards the door. Something else to worry about.

He’d have to go to the Grand Sorceress. She’d be being bombarded with advice and demands for action and he would have to add his voice to them, or risk losing influence at the palace. The gods knew that Deferens or Lady Lakeside would be happy to edge him out, particularly in light of recent events. There were times, he privately admitted, when he wondered if his quest for wealth and power for his family was really worth the price.

“Summon my coachman,” he ordered the maid. He scribbled a quick note to Charity, ordering her to remain inside tomorrow until he spoke to her, then passed it to the maid. “I’m going to the palace.”

***

“They used magic to hide their tracks,” the forensic sorcerer said. “I can’t even get a hint of their auras, let alone anything we can use to track them.”

Elaine nodded, unsurprised. Anyone who killed a magician knew that the Inquisitors would come after them – and that they had the right to use truth spells and even torture to draw answers out of possible suspects. A drop of blood found at the scene of the crime would be enough to track them down and then prove their guilt; no matter how much magicians were hated, it was rare to see one murdered outside a duel. But this killer had put a great deal of forethought into the assassination.

It struck her as odd, a moment later. She’d assumed that it was a revenge killing, perhaps carried out by the Levellers, but why would they use magic? And how would they obtain it to use? The answer struck her a moment later and she scowled. There was no shortage of seedy magicians who might be prepared to work the spells for them, in exchange for gold and promises of future favour. Maybe some of them would be deterred by the thought of assisting in the murder of a fellow magician, but others merely wanted money and cared nothing for how it was earned.

“Probably,” Dread said, when she asked him. “We will challenge the shadier magicians in the city, but I doubt we will find a lead. They would not have left him alive and free.”

Elaine took one look back at the body, then nodded. “I don’t think there’s much more I can do here,” she said. Whatever help she might have offered had been amply matched by the forensic sorcerer. “If you don’t mind, I’m going back home.”

“It should be fine,” Dread said. “I have to go to the palace to provide the Grand Sorceress with a full report. I’ll send you an update when I know what’s happening.”

Elaine scowled as she made her way out of the building, down towards where her carriage was waiting. The Grand Sorceress would come under immense pressure from the rest of the magical community, who would demand harsh action against the Levellers and anyone else who might be involved in the murder. At best, it would strain relationships between magical and mundane citizens still further; at worst, it would lead to all-out war. The mundanes couldn’t win, but they did control much of the Empire’s economy. A war, no matter how short, might be disastrous.

It also makes the Grand Sorceress look weak, she thought, remembering just how many kings and princes still held dreams of independence. If they think that she is unable to keep the Golden City under control, they might start declaring themselves free of the Empire.

It was a chilling thought. The Empire didn’t have large armies to maintain its will; the near-monopoly on magic the first Grand Sorcerer and his followers had possessed had ensured that resistance would only end badly. But now, with so many magicians dead in the Golden City – and others influenced by the kings and princes they were supposed to watch – it would be harder for the Court Wizards to keep their rulers under control. And that would only lead to further chaos.

She climbed into the carriage and stared out of the window as the coachman took her back towards the Great Library. The streets were almost deserted, even away from the crime scene; the entire Golden City seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for something to happen to break the spell. It was said that the city never slept, but now it seemed to be frozen, not daring to move for fear that it would cause a disaster.

The Great Library was always quieter at night, although it never closed completely. It was a relief to see students flocking through the corridors, desperately trying to revise prior to their exams. Elaine remembered her own years as a student and scowled, recalling how hard she’d had to work to earn her grades. She felt a flicker of sympathy for four students who were being escorted out of the library for daring to eat in one of the reading rooms, which she ruthlessly quashed. No matter how hungry they became, they couldn’t be allowed to drop food all over the books.

She walked into her quarters and stopped as she saw Johan lying on the sofa, a book in his hand. For a moment, she stared in horror, then recalled that she had left him there when she went to see Dread. Even so, it was still a fright. Shaking her head in annoyance, she rescued the book before it could fall from his hands and glanced at the title. Sex Rites for the Young Magician.

“Oh,” Johan said, blearily. “I ...”

He blushed bright red as he saw that she was holding the book, then somehow managed to work up the nerve to ask a question. “Do those rites actually work?”

“Yes and no,” Elaine said, feeling the knowledge shimmering through her brain. “The sorcerer who designed them merely added sex to the instructions because he rather liked having sex. You can strip out at least half of the instructions – including the sex – and they would still work.”

She smiled at his embarrassment. “He was a typical teenage boy.”

Johan couldn’t have blushed any brighter if he’d tried. “How do you know what’s vital and what isn’t?”

“Good question,” Elaine said, in approval. “With most rites and rituals it’s hard to see what is necessary and what can be left out ... and research into the subject rarely leads to a long life. But for me ... I see all of the known rituals, allowing me to cross-check. In this case, the sorcerer actually derived most of his rites from older rites; they’re still there, just hidden between the sex.”

She snorted. “And besides, for some of them, you would have to be an athlete to actually perform the rites as he specified,” she added. “It isn’t considered advisable to try.”

Johan managed to stand upright, holding his hand in front of his face as if he were trying to hide his blush. Elaine had to admit that it looked endearing, although she knew better than to say that out loud. Daria had told her that men liked unstinted praise, but not being told that they were cute. She had never bothered to explain why.

“I’d stay away from sex magic if I were you,” Elaine advised. “Even normal magicians tend to try to avoid it. The results can be unpredictable.”

“I was just worried,” Johan said. “What if the date goes really well and ... well, you know ...”

Elaine was tempted to let him embarrass himself a little more, but she was supposed to be his mentor, not his tormenter. “I think you have to ask her out first,” she said, dryly. “And you really don’t want to go to bed with her on the first date ...”

She stopped, crossly. He was a teenage boy; of course he wanted to go to bed with her on the first date. If he just wanted sex, he should have gone to Red Street ... not that Elaine would have allowed it, not now. And his father had kept him a virtual prisoner inside the house.

“You should give the relationship time to develop,” she said, feeling a twinge of guilt at her hypocrisy. It hadn’t taken her long to decide to sleep with Bee – but then, she’d expected to die. The new Grand Sorcerer might not have tolerated her existence, not with a head stuffed full of forbidden knowledge. Somehow, taking time to build up a relationship had no longer seemed to matter. “If she likes you, she will go out with you again and again. By the time the relationship becomes sexual, you’ll have a solid foundation for future development.”

“I’ll do my best,” Johan said. “But what if ...”

Elaine wanted to roll her eyes. Instead, she sighed. “There are contraceptive potions you can take that will ensure that she doesn’t fall pregnant,” she said. “Either one of you can take the potion, but I would advise both of you to take it. Most students learn to brew it in their first year.”

Johan scowled. “Why isn’t it sold?”

“It is,” Elaine said. “But most students and qualified magicians prefer to brew their own. It tends to work better that way. For you ... if you really insist, I’ll have some sent in for you.”

“Please,” Johan said.

“Very well,” Elaine said, sending the order into the wards. There was no point in telling him that she’d kept a small supply for herself, at Daria’s insistence. Without her friend, she rarely left the Great Library. “Tomorrow ... I want you to study your books.”

Johan blinked. “Again?”

“I will probably be summoned back to the palace,” Elaine said. She filled him in on what Dread had shown her. “Sleep in, if you like; eat breakfast, then read your books. I hope that we will have time to do more experiments tomorrow afternoon, but it will depend on what happens in the morning.”

She watched him go, then undressed and headed into her bedroom, where she threw herself down on the bed. There was no time for anything but sleep. Knowing her luck, Light Spinner would summon her at the earliest socially acceptable hour.

With that thought, she fell asleep.

***

When Johan opened his eyes, a note was lying on the bedside table addressed to him. He picked it up and saw that Elaine had indeed been summoned to the palace. It included a list of books he might like to read and suggested that he order them from the library staff, in addition to the ones he already had. It took him a moment to realise that she was trying to help, in her own way. Jayne would be bringing the books to his rooms.

He rolled out of bed, took a shower and dressed in comfortable clothes, then ate a leisurely breakfast. The broadsheet that the staff had placed on the breakfast tray included a detailed article on the death of a magician – they’d got the name wrong, Johan saw – that was long on hysterics and short on any actual information. There was no shortage of speculation about what the magician had been doing – there were even suggestions that he had been engaging in forbidden sex rites, which made him smirk – but nothing actually useful. The article concluded with a plea to the Grand Sorceress to catch the murderer or murderers as quickly as possible.

The next page reported in calm, matter-of-fact tones that Jamal and his accomplices were still in jail, something that made Johan let out a sigh in relief. Even now, he was still terrified of his elder brother, fearing what Jamal would have done if his father had died. After all, Jamal had actually suggested that Johan should be killed. But if Jamal broke free ...

I can fight, Johan thought, remembering what he’d done to the terrorists – and Jolie. The expression on his younger brother’s face had made up for everything he’d suffered over the years. He’s never met anyone like me.

But he knew that it wouldn’t be that easy. Jamal could set protective wards up around himself that stayed in place, Johan’s only seemed to stay where he wanted them to stay when he was concentrating on them. He would need to practice much more before he was ready to face Jamal, if it did come down to a fight. Somehow, he doubted that his brother would face the headsman. He was just too good at getting out of trouble.

The thought depressed him until he ordered his next set of books – carefully not looking at the pile of books he still had to read – and Jayne entered the room, pushing a trolley in front of her. Johan nervously helped her unload, then pick up the books he had read.

And then he took the plunge. “Where would you like to go eat tonight?”

Jayne blinked in surprise – he felt his heart sink – and then smiled. “Somewhere quiet,” she said. “And not somewhere too popular.”

“My family only came here six months ago,” Johan said. It wasn’t entirely true – his siblings had been in the city for much longer – but it explained why he wasn’t familiar with the city yet. “Can you pick a place?”

“I could pick somewhere expensive,” Jayne said, with a wink. “How about Joan’s Grill? It’s not that large, but it is supposed to be good.”

“Why not?” Johan said. She’d agreed ... and yet he still felt desperate. What if she changed her mind? Come to think of it, he didn’t even know where the place was. “Where do you want to meet?”

“Outside the library will do,” Jayne said, thoughtfully. “I have classes this afternoon, so I’ll get dressed afterwards and meet you at sunset. Is that all right?”

“Yes,” Johan said, who would have agreed to almost anything she asked. “I’ll see you then.”

He watched her leave the room, then sagged in relief. He had a date! Jamal and Charity had never had any trouble finding partners, but he had barely even laid eyes on a girl who wasn’t a direct relative ... not until now. But fighting the terrorists had given his confidence a real boost ...

“Now I have to find something to wear,” he told himself, as he walked over to the wardrobe and sighed. Jamal had hundreds of different outfits and Charity seemed to have thousands of dresses, but he’d never been allowed to develop taste. At least Elaine’s staff had provided him with a handful of suits. “What do I wear tonight?”