Chapter Four

Isabella had to fight to keep her legs from buckling.

Alden hadn’t changed much, as far as she could tell. He’d been fifteen years old when she’d been born and they’d never really been close. Alden had been the kind of person who’d never truly been young, parroting their father instead of developing a mind of his own. He hadn’t been a bad elder brother – not compared to some of the assholes she’d met since leaving the Golden City – but he hadn’t been a very good one either. He’d acted more like a parent than an older brother, bossing her around practically since she’d learnt to walk. The only point she could see in his favour was that he’d supported her, once, when their father had threatened her with a fate worse than death.

She sat down and studied him, using the pause to get her thoughts under control. Alden looked more like their father than ever, his greying hair tied back in a long ponytail that made him look ready to cast spells at a moment’s notice. He wore a black shirt and trousers rather than magician’s robes, but the wand at his belt spoilt the illusion that he was a wealthy merchant rather than heir to a magical family. And his face ... Isabella shivered as she met his eyes. They were the eyes of a man who had seen terrible things.

Her heart was beating in her chest, thumping so loudly that she was surprised he couldn’t hear the sound. She calmed herself as best as she could. Alden ... Alden shouldn’t have been able to find her, not after she’d been disowned. She should have been cut right out of the family magic, her blood wiped from the family tree. How the hell had he found her? Even if he’d heard of an Isabella in Andalusia, he shouldn’t have connected her to the youngest daughter of House Majuro. Her name wasn’t that uncommon.

“Isabella,” Alden said. He sounded just like their father too. “I ...”

He stopped, just for a moment. A shiver ran down Isabella’s spine. She’d never seen Alden be anything less than completely certain of himself, even when he knew he was on unsteady ground. No, he’d often acted more confident when he wasn’t completely sure of himself. A show of complete confidence, their father had often said, could make up for problems, if done properly. Isabella hated to admit it, but the old bastard had been right.

“Isabella,” Alden repeated. “Right now, you and I are the last of House Majuro.”

Isabella stared at him. Her mouth dropped open as she struggled to comprehend what she’d been told. They were the last ...? They couldn’t be the last. She’d had six siblings, counting Alden. House Majuro had more than enough children – and cousins – to keep going, even after the patriarch died. Her thoughts caught up with her a second later. Their father was dead?

She found her voice. “Our father ... our father is dead?”

“Yes,” Alden said. “And so are our siblings.”

Isabella barely heard him. Alay Majuro was dead? The old man had been a nightmare, ruthlessly pushing his children into careers and occupations he felt would benefit the family ... and to hell with whatever they wanted for themselves. He’d told Isabella that she was going to be an Inquisitor, ordering her to study advanced magic and beating her whenever her marks slipped too low. She’d fought back as best she could, but it hadn’t been until she’d managed to get herself kicked out of the training course that she’d been formally disowned and told to leave. It had been something of a relief. And yet ...

She felt her heart twist. The old man had meant well, hadn’t he? The family was their heart and soul. Except he’d broken all of them ...

And now he’s dead, she thought. She didn’t know how she felt. She’d loved it when he’d praised her achievements, even as she’d hated the punishments for not living up to his expectations. Aldan hadn’t been helpful, either. Her oldest brother should have spoken up for her, but instead ... he’d said nothing. Father is dead and I ...

She looked up. “What happened?”

“What happened?” Aldan stared down at the empty table. “What happened was a nightmare.”

Isabella listened, torn between disbelief and horror, as Alden stumbled through an explanation. The death of the Grand Sorcerer was no surprise – the old man had been ailing for years, even before she’d left the Golden City – but everything else? An Emperor? An Empress? A godlike entity from the depths of history ... she wouldn’t have believed it, if the Empire hadn’t fallen. The gods alone knew how many magicians had died in the Golden City. It was clear that none of the court wizards had returned to their puppet kingdoms.

“There aren’t many survivors,” Alden finished. “Most of the Great Houses are gone, Isabella, or badly weakened. The Inquisition no longer exists, to all intents and purposes. There are only five or six Inquisitors left ... you might be one of the handful of outsiders with the training. And the Empire is gone too.”

He shook his head. “Didn’t you hear any of this?”

“Just rumours,” Isabella said. She hadn’t wanted to know, not really. She’d been disowned and that was the end of the matter. “Did father ... I thought father disowned me.”

“I talked him into not disowning you completely,” Alden said. “But he was very clear that you would not be allowed to reclaim your place until after his death. I just ... I just don’t think he expected the rest of his children to die.”

“No,” Isabella said. She put a hard block on her emotions. She’d loved her siblings, even though they’d fought like cats and dogs when they were younger. She would have to mourn them properly, later. “So what’s happening now? And why are you here?”

Alden sighed. “We don’t have the influence we had five years ago,” he said. “The Golden City is effectively gone. We still have the Peerless School and we’re taking students from all over the world, but ... it’s only a matter of time before rival schools get underway. And then ... frankly, the only thing that keeps the Golden City from being overrun is the threat of defences buried within the mountains. We are trying to keep ourselves neutral, Isabella, but that isn’t going to last.”

“I imagine not,” Isabella said. Sooner or later, a king would see advantage in keeping the Peerless School and Great Library to himself. There were secrets buried within the vaults, secrets that should never be allowed to see the light of day. But if Alden was telling the truth, there was no way the school’s former defenders could keep those secrets to themselves indefinitely. “So ... why are you here?”

“Your friend, Lord Robin, has been hired by the Crown Prince,” Alden said. He looked pained for a moment. “Please tell me you’re not sleeping with him.”

Isabella felt a flicker of annoyance. “The Crown Prince? I’m not sleeping with the Crown Prince.”

Alden gave her a long-suffering look at her deliberate misunderstanding. “Lord Robin,” he said, tartly. “Are you sleeping with him?”

“No,” Isabella said. She was tempted to wind him up, as she’d done when she’d been a little girl, but ... she was old enough to know better. Besides, she didn’t think he had time to waste being overprotective. “He’s my boss. I don’t sleep with my boss.”

“Good,” Alden said. “Is he really a lord?”

“He claims to be,” Isabella said, curtly. “Are you going to get to the point sometime in this century?”

Alden’s eyes narrowed in a manner she remembered all too well from her childhood. She forced herself to look back evenly. She was no longer a little girl and he was no longer her know-it-all older brother. If he wanted something from her, he could damn well do her the courtesy of treating her like an adult. Besides, if she hadn’t been disowned permanently, he had certain obligations towards her.

“The Crown Prince believes that Andalusia has a right to the Summer Isle,” Alden said, finally. He gave her a tight little smile. “Unfortunately, the denizens of the Summer Isle disagree. One of their noblemen has declared himself a king and dared Andalusia to do something about it. The Crown Prince intends to pick up the gauntlet and do something about it.”

“I see,” Isabella said. A war ... there would be plenty of work for mercenaries in a full-scale war. “And what does this have to do with us?”

“There have been odd ... rumours coming out of the Summer Isle,” Alden said. “It was never considered very important, Isabella, and most of the old intelligence networks rarely paid it any real attention. Quite a few of the agents we had in place are gone now, it seems. But the stories are worrying.”

Isabella met his eyes. “What stories?”

“Impossible magics,” Alden said. “Strange creatures. Weird ... encounters. People vanishing. Magic ... behaving oddly.”

“We saw something weird two days ago,” Isabella said. She briefly explained what they’d seen in the village. “I still don’t know what it was.”

“Me neither,” Alden said. “And you say it sucked out your magic?”

“None of my spells responded properly,” Isabella confirmed. “I couldn’t shape the magic before it faded and vanished.”

Alden considered it for a long moment. “There have always been odd stories on the fringes of civilisation, as you know, but these stories ... Isabella, we have to know what’s going on.”

Isabella nodded, slowly. She rarely paid any attention to rumours. The more outrageous a rumour, the more likely that the truth was buried beneath a mountain of nonsense. If, of course, there was any truth to the rumour. There were hundreds of old biddies in the Golden City who’d produced more bullshit than a herd of bulls. No ... there had been hundreds of old biddies. The Golden City was no longer the centre of the known world. If Alden was correct, it was nothing more than a backwater – or a prize to be won.

She sighed. She wouldn’t have believed the rumours, if she hadn’t seen the ... whatever she’d seen. She’d read about all kinds of magics that might have produced some of the effects, but ... none of them would have produced the whole. And most of them couldn’t have hidden from her senses either. Whatever they’d encountered had been something new. Once upon a time, that would have fascinated her. Now ... now, she was scared.

“All right,” she said. “You have to know what’s going on. What do you want me to do about it?”

She met his eyes. “Even if I wasn’t disowned, even if my blood is still connected to the family, coming this far from the Golden City must have taken weeks,” she added. “I assume you haven’t come just to give me the news.”

“No,” Alden said. “Lord Robin has been hired by the Crown Prince. I want you to go with them when they cross the channel. And ... once you’re there, I want you to investigate the stories. If there’s any truth to them, we need to know.”

“I see,” Isabella said. “And how much are you going to pay?”

Alden blinked. “Pay?”

“I’m a mercenary,” Isabella said. She took a certain savage glee in being able to shock him, even now. He hadn’t looked so flabbergasted when Isabella had been caught in bed with one of her fellow trainees. “I need to be paid.”

“You’re my sister,” Alden said. “You ...”

Isabella fought down a rising tide of red anger. “Don’t even think of going there,” she snarled. “You ... father kicked me out, remember? You were there when he disowned me.”

She cut him off before he could say a word. “You didn’t stop him from giving me the boot, did you? You never got in touch with me, did you? Not until you needed me. What do I care about the family? It’s ...”

“It’s not about the family,” Alden said. There was a hint of guilt in his voice. “It’s about finding out what’s going on.”

“And why,” Isabella demanded, “should I care about what’s going on?”

“Whatever is happening,” Alden said, “needs to be investigated. The Golden City ...”

“The Golden City is a ruin,” Isabella said. “And the Grand Sorcerers are dead!”

Alden took a long breath. “What do you want?”

Isabella hesitated. She’d often told herself that she’d demand a high price, when her father finally realised his mistake and called her back home. But ... she’d never expected the old bastard to die. He’d been a powerful sorcerer, one of the strongest magicians in the Golden City. He should have lived longer. The magic in his bloodline should have kept him alive for over a century. But now he was gone.

She felt a sob catch in her throat. Her other brothers were gone. They’d been closer to her than her sisters, but ... they were gone. And her sisters were gone too. She’d never imagined losing everyone but Alden. She’d never imagined that the whole family – and civilised society – could die. The Empire had seemed utterly indestructible. It was terrifying to realise just how quickly it had fallen apart. Andalusia was one of the most powerful kingdoms in the region, but it was tiny compared to the immensity the Grand Sorcerers had ruled.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I just ... don’t know.”

Alden reached out and touched her hand, gently. Isabella nearly jerked away before relaxing into the contact. It wasn’t one he’d offered her very often, not when he’d spent far too long pretending to be their father. And yet ...

“You can come home, if you like,” Alden said. “Or ... there are places for you, if you want.”

Isabella snorted, rudely. It wasn’t as if she’d be welcome in the Golden City, even now. Or ... the city was ruined, after all. Maybe she would be welcome. Or ...

“My share of the inheritance,” she said, finally. “And ... and enough money to keep me going for a while.”

“That can be arranged,” Alden said. His lips quirked. “You do realise that most of the inheritance is gone?”

“You give me half of what’s left, save for what’s entailed,” Isabella said. Alden was the eldest son. The entailed property would go straight to him, now their father was dead. It was a point of law. “And you send the money out here.”

Alden took a long breath. “And afterwards, will you come home?”

“You told me that home no longer exists,” Isabella said, sharply. She felt another odd pang of grief. The family mansion in the Golden City had been a hard place to grow up, but the estates in the countryside had been fun. She’d loved running in the fields and playing in the gardens more than she cared to admit. “What is there to come home to?”

“We are trying to rebuild magic,” Alden said. “You have training we can use.”

“I know,” Isabella said, softly. Oddly, she felt better about knowing he did have an ulterior motive. She would have been suspicious if he’d professed brotherly love for her. “I’ll consider it, after we return from the Summer Isle.”

Alden rose. “I thank you,” he said, formally. He produced a sheet of parchment from his trouser pocket and held it out to her. “I have established a number of contacts at King Romulus’s court. You can send a message to me through them.”

“Which will still take weeks to reach you,” Isabella said. She’d grown far too used to the crystal ball network. “Is there any way to speed letters up?”

“Not any longer,” Alden said. “And even if we could, the kings wouldn’t let us.”

Isabella looked down. How the mighty fall ...

She rose. “I ... thank you for coming,” she said. She wasn’t sure how she felt, but ... she knew she should say something. “And ... I hope we’ll see each other again, soon.”

“I have rooms at the bank,” Alden said. “You are welcome to join me.”

He paused. “And you probably should get married,” he added. “Right now, I’m unmarried too.”

Isabella’s eyebrows shot up. She’d always assumed their father would have found Alden a bride, eventually. There would come a time when Alden would shuffle off the marriage market anyway, unless he wanted a vast age difference between him and his wife. And their father would have wanted grandchildren ...

“I haven’t had the time,” Alden said. “And even if I wanted to, I don’t have a bride.”

Because the family is no longer what it was, Isabella thought. Once, Alden would have been sure of a girl from the very highest levels of magical society. She’d known parents who would cheerfully rid themselves of an unwanted son-in-law just so their daughter could marry into House Majuro. But now ... Alden was nowhere near so important. And who’d want to marry him without a vast dowry?

“I’m sorry,” she said. She didn’t think any of the friends she’d known at school would have wanted him, not without the promise of powerful children. “I ...”

She closed her eyes in pain. Too many of the friends she’d known – and the enemies who’d hexed her and been hexed in return – would be dead. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what had happened to them. The boring girls who’d only talked of marriage, the boys who’d bragged of adventure ... where were they? Dead now, perhaps. So few had left the Golden City ...

“It’s not a problem,” Alden said. “Just ... think about it, please.”

Isabella snorted. “No one would want to marry me,” she said. “And to hell with anyone who says differently.”