Lessons in Etiquette (Schooled in Magic series) (38 page)

And how long had she been following them?

The wards around the warehouse-workshop wouldn’t have kept out a hedge wizard, let alone a combat sorceress. Lady Barb could have slipped inside behind them and watched as the craftsmen showed off the steam engine and the other long-term projects. What would she make of them all? And what would King Randor make of them, when they were finally revealed? Steam technology would change the world.

She pushed the thought to one side as Lady Barb stopped in front of a solid metal door. It looked utterly impregnable even without the runes carved into the metal. Lady Barb gave her a sharp glance–she had been rather doubtful about allowing Emily to come with her, even though she hadn’t forbidden it–and then pushed her hand against the door. Emily sensed a brilliant shimmer of magic as the cell unlocked, allowing Lady Barb to pull the door open and step inside. It was as dark and shadowy as the grave.

Lady Barb created a light ball and directed it forward, into the cell. It was a dark chamber, with a single chair sitting in the exact center of the room. Heavy manacles kept the chair’s occupant almost completely immobile; Emily realized that he was weighed down with so many chains that he would have had problems moving even if they weren’t secured to the metal chair. More runes had been carved into the chair itself, shaping the wards that added an extra layer of security. It struck Emily as rather excessive.

But Sergeant Miles had lectured them, more than once, on keeping prisoners secure. It was easy to believe that a person without magic would be unable to escape a magical prison, but overconfidence was a gross weakness. Besides, warding each and every cell in a prison would be expensive. Matters only grew worse when the prisoners included actual magicians, who had to be drugged to keep them under control. Most of them, the sergeant had said, were kept in pocket dimensions, where they could remain secure. And a really skilled magician might even be able to escape from there.

The prisoner looked up at them as Lady Barb fixed the light ball over his head. Emily had barely had a chance to look at him when she’d been attacked; now, she realized that he was a young man, almost certainly younger than Jade. His armor had been stripped from him, leaving him dressed in nothing more than a long undershirt that revealed scars covering his body. Emily looked away, feeling a flicker of shame, as she realized that some of the wounds were new. The Royal Guard would not have treated him with kid gloves.

“We checked him for signs of mind control,” Lady Barb said, to Emily. “We found none.”

She leaned down to look at the prisoner. “Good evening,” she said. Her voice was so cold that the prisoner flinched. “Let me start by explaining just how much trouble you’re in.”

She leaned closer to the prisoner, her eyes boring into his skull. “You and your friends attacked a personal friend–
two
personal friends - of the crown princess,” she continued. “And you clearly knew who you were attacking, because you had enchanted armor to cope with their magic. And, given the weapons you were carrying, you intended to cause serious harm–or death. Your actions were effectively treason. Do you know what happens to traitors?

“You couldn’t have afforded that armor on your own. Someone provided it, along with the intelligence that allowed you to plot your attack. Cooperate with us and I will petition the king to have mercy on you. Refuse to cooperate and I will be forced to extract the information from your mind. That may well break you, destroying your mind and leaving your body a helpless mess. Whatever is left of you will be ritually tortured to death, the fate reserved for traitors. What do you choose?”

There was a long pause. The man looked almost…hopeless. Emily couldn’t imagine how he was feeling, although she knew what it felt like to be trapped. She’d been held prisoner before, by Shadye and Malefic. But she couldn’t feel any sympathy for the prisoner. He’d tried to kill her and her friend.

“You don’t get to change your mind once I begin,” Lady Barb said, gently. “This is your last chance to cooperate.”

The man sighed. “I will not talk,” he said. His accent marked him out as coming from Zangaria. “I
cannot
talk.”

Lady Barb shrugged. “If someone has charmed you into keeping your mouth shut, I will break it,” she said. “And if I break you…well, I will have learned enough to ensure that I don’t break your friends when I interrogate them. Your mental integrity is not one of my concerns.”

Emily frowned. If
she’d
been a hired footpad facing ritual torture or permanent transfiguration as punishment for treason, she would have tried to make a deal. The man should have been trying to bargain–it was his only hope–and yet he was refusing to even consider the possibility. What did that mean? Someone fanatical enough to believe that he couldn’t be forced to talk–or someone who believed that his masters would punish him for confessing, even though he was safely in the royal dungeons.

She considered it, working through the various options in her mind. The first attack might have been aimed at her or Alassa; the second attack might have been the same. This attack had been specifically aimed at Emily herself, which implied that she’d been the target of all three assassination attempts. If the cockatrice had actually
been
an assassination attempt…

The barons
, she thought, and shivered. She’d upset the Kingdom’s apple cart, unleashing forces that would eventually destroy the aristocracy if they didn’t learn how to cope in the brave new world she’d created. They would want a little revenge, perhaps believing that killing Emily would allow them to get the changes under control. Didn’t they realize that life didn’t work like
Atlas Shrugged
? Eliminating Emily wouldn’t eliminate the changes she’d already introduced, let alone the craftsmen who had taken her ideas and run with them.

But they might not have realized the truth. How could they?

It made sense. A baron might have the clout to get someone out of the dungeons–or to have him killed, if he opened his mouth. And if he
knew
it, he would be caught between two fires, unable to appease the king without risking the ire of the baron who’d hired him.

“This is your final warning,” Lady Barb said. Her voice had, if anything, grown colder. “I will break into your mind and…”

Emily touched her arm. Lady Barb turned and looked at her, sharply.

“Let me talk to him,” Emily muttered, after casting a privacy ward in the air. The spell reacted oddly with the wards securing the prison, but it seemed to work. “I think I can
try
to convince him to talk.”

Lady Barb gave her a sarcastic look. “And you have extensive experience in interrogating prisoners?”

“No,” Emily admitted, “but I do have an idea.”

She outlined her thoughts. If the prisoner could be convinced that he
would
be protected, he would talk. And then they could decide what to do without having to break into his mind, which would avoid the risk of killing him.

“Interesting,” Lady Barb said, finally. She sounded unconvinced. Good cop, bad cop wasn’t something that existed in her world. “And are you sure that it will work?”

Emily felt a flash of irritation that she fought down. “If it fails, you can dig into his mind anyway,” she pointed out, crossly. Did Lady Barb have to question
everything
Emily did? “We lose nothing by trying and gain much if we succeed.”

“Very well,” Lady Barb said. She stepped backwards. “Good luck.”

Emily cancelled the privacy ward and leaned forward, allowing the prisoner to get a good look at her face. He cringed back the moment he recognized her.

“You’re in trouble,” she said, bluntly. It was very much an understatement. “Your master is powerful enough–or so you think–to reach into the prison and kill you if you breathe a word of his existence to anyone. But we can hide you, and protect you, if you talk to us now. If not, we have to break into your mind and that might kill you. Talk–or risk death.”

There was a long pause. “How…” The man said. He coughed and started again. “How can you hide me?”

Emily grinned. “I’ll turn you into something and hide you in my room,” she offered. “I can rig the spell to make it impossible for anyone else to find you–and you won’t even be aware of time passing.”

Lady Barb gave her an unreadable look. The students at Whitehall had been told, quite specifically, that they were
not
to perform any spells that risked permanent transformation, or spells that could only be undone by the caster. If Emily had cast one within the school’s wards, it would have meant instant expulsion from Whitehall, if not worse. Permanent transformation was
not
a joke.

But if the man was unable to sense time passing–if he simply couldn’t think at all–he would never be able to work the spells that would allow him to break free. If he
could
work the spells. He didn’t seem to have any magic at all.

“The king will not treat with me,” the man said. He looked up at her, then at Lady Barb. “Are you going to defy him?”

Lady Barb stepped forward. “If someone paid you to attack Lady Emily,” she said, “the king will be more interested in knowing who ordered the attack, rather than simply punishing you. I believe that I could convince him to give you a lesser punishment. Besides, a few years of slaving in the mines would be better than spending the rest of your life as a hunted animal.”

“My name is Trajas,” the man said, slowly. “I am a Guardsman in the Iron Guard.”

It meant nothing to Emily, but she saw Lady Barb’s eyes open wide with shock.

“I don’t believe you,” Lady Barb said. There was a harsh note in her voice. “If you are trying to trick us…”

“The duke himself issued the orders to kill Lady Emily,” Trajas insisted. “I saw him personally!”

Lady Barb lifted her hand and cast a privacy ward of her own into the air. “The Iron Guard is the personal guard of the Duke of Iron, King Randor’s brother,” she said, by way of explanation. “If
he
issued the orders…”

Emily shivered. King Randor’s brother, Alassa’s uncle…and a man without children of his own. If he was attempting to make himself King, it wouldn’t last past his death, unless he thought his wife could still have a child. Even if not…the power would be tempting. He might just take power, rule for the rest of his life, then let the kingdom fall into chaos. Or maybe he thought he could become King, then allow Alassa to succeed him.

Or maybe he just wanted to be rid of Emily, the girl who had turned his world upside down.

“But he cannot lie to his brother,” Lady Barb said. “I do not understand how he could lie–he’s part of the Royal Bloodline. He cannot lie to the King!”

Emily looked down at the stone floor as she realized that Lady Barb was right. Alassa had told her that she couldn’t lie to her father, even through omission. She was
compelled
to tell the truth. Maybe someone with more experience could dissemble…but if it worked anything like a standard truth spell, it would be very difficult to dissemble while under the influence. But then, a powerful sorcerer could push a truth spell aside. Perhaps the duke was an unregistered sorcerer.

Lady Barb cancelled the privacy ward and glared down at Trajas. “I want to verify your words,” she said, as she touched his forehead. He flinched back from her touch, but the manacles kept him from moving too far away from her. “Do
not
try to resist me.”

Magic flickered around Lady Barb as she probed into his mind. Emily shivered; she’d been warned never to try any form of mental spell until she was older, with the discipline to keep her thoughts under control. A single mistake could be disastrous. Or, for that matter, someone could have buried a nasty surprise in the target’s mind, just waiting for someone to come along and stick their head into the trap. If the duke
was
a sorcerer…

But how could he be, without training?

Lady Barb stumbled backwards, deeply shocked. “It
was
the duke,” she said, in disbelief. “He saw him personally!”

Emily swallowed. How did one arrest the most powerful nobleman in Zangaria?

“I will have you transferred to my own personal custody,” Lady Barb said to Trajas. “Lady Emily shouldn’t have to take care of you. For what it’s worth, I won’t surrender you to anyone until after the whole matter is sorted out.”

She looked over at Emily. “You do realize that this is
disastrous
?”

Emily nodded, mutely.

“All of the barons are in Alexis, ready for the Confirmation,” Lady Barb added. “If they realize that the Duke of Iron has turned into a traitor…they could jump either way.”

They might be involved
, Emily thought, sourly. The barons had strong reasons to oppose the changes Emily had brought to the kingdom. What would happen if they decided that the duke was in the right? If it truly
was
the duke…but Lady Barb had confirmed it. And yet…how had the duke managed to get around the Royal Bloodline’s effects?

“Go to your rooms and wait there,” Lady Barb ordered. “I will speak to the king, then he can decide what to do. And watch your back. If the duke ordered your death, he could influence the servants in the castle as easily as his own guardsmen. He’s keyed into the spells binding them.”