Mage's Blood (64 page)

Ramon grinned. ‘If this was Silacia, I’d take a few lads and have a quiet word with Fyrell – except we’re in Norostein and Fyrell’s a Magister who could blow us all to Lune.’

‘Fyrell’s probably nothing to do with it any more,’ Cym muttered. ‘It’s Vult we need.’

‘He’s in Hebusalim,’ Ramon said, ‘it’s all over the Arcanum.’ Ramon had confirmed his own enlistment that week, and was due to fly to Pontus on a windship in early Junesse, in less than a month’s time. ‘He’s acting as ambassador for the emperor.’

Alaron rubbed his face. ‘The chapel’s empty, we’ve got nothing to go on. We’re at an impasse.’

Cym looked at Ramon. ‘He really doesn’t understand how things work in Rimoni, does he?’

Alaron eyed them both uneasily. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, it’s pretty obvious what we need to do,’ Ramon said, licking his lips. ‘I bet Vult guessed the other generals had the Scytale, and he was angry at being left out. When Fyrell brought in Langstrit with his brain fried, Vult thought that it had something to do with the Scytale so he made Langstrit vanish. He’s probably spent the last twenty years trying to solve the very same problem we’re working on now. But I bet Langstrit hasn’t ever manifested that Rune-puzzle for Vult, so all Vult has is a man with amnesia, so does he kill him, or hold on to him and hope he recovers? Clearly he chose to wait.’

Ramon’s explanation seemed to fit the facts. He went on, ‘Vult
has been governor for years now. The report on Langstrit is too important to leave lying around, but too secret to entrust to his staff, so it’ll be amongst his personal effects. So obviously we have to break into Vult’s house and find it.’

‘You’re both mad!’ Alaron said incredulously. ‘This is
Belonius Vult
you’re talking about: the Governor of Noros, a
pure-blood
– he’ll have wards and probably traps, and he might even have spirit guardians, constructs – and we don’t even know for sure the information’s there – this is
ridiculous
!’

‘Oh, it’ll be there,’ Ramon replied confidently. ‘Think about it: personal and sensitive information like this will be in the Residence, which is quite separate to the administration area. He’s not married, so there’ll be no one there but guards after sunset. A determined and clever mage could gain access easily. After that it’s just a case of finding the safe-box and we’re in.’

Alaron thumped the table. ‘This is
insane
– the slightest error will bring the Palace Guard down on our heads. The moment his wards are triggered he’ll be instantly aware of what we’re doing.’

‘Vult’s in Hebusalim,’ Ramon insisted. ‘Aware or not, he won’t be able to do anything.’

‘Maybe not personally, but he’ll contact someone pretty damn quick. Probably Fyrell himself.’

‘No, he won’t: Alaron, these are his personal effects we’re talking about. He wouldn’t trust Fyrell with it any more than us—’

Alaron threw up his hands. ‘Talk sense, won’t you? We don’t have a snowflake in Hel’s chance of succeeding, and when we fail we’ll end up dead or arrested or both. Talk sense—’

Ramon stood up. ‘I am talking sense! Are you chickening out, Alaron?’

‘I’m not chicken!’ Alaron stood too, and poked Ramon in the chest. ‘There’s a difference between courage and suicide, short-arse. Trying to break into Vult’s place is idiocy.’ He appealed to Cym. ‘You agree with me, surely!’

‘It is a suicidal idea,’ she started, ‘but I agree with Ramon. It’s the only way forward. We’re at a dead end, otherwise.’

Ramon gesticulated expressively. ‘Look at it logically: of course there will be guards, but the palace can’t be that well-protected because Vult wouldn’t trust anyone else’s wards but his own, and he certainly wouldn’t want anyone but him in his private study. He’ll be thousands of miles away – he may not even sense it, but even if he does, he’ll not be able to do anything about it. The palace should be easy pickings. What sort of magi can’t get past a few watchmen?’

‘But what about his wards?’ Alaron said doubtfully. ‘Even a simple locking spell set by a pure-blood is beyond any of us – so how will we ever get past wards set by someone as powerful as Vult?’

Cym struck a pose and pointed at Jarius Langstrit, slumbering in his armchair. ‘Ta-da! I give you one Ascendant Mage. He’s got enough power to blow through Vult’s wards like they weren’t there.’

Ramon’s mouth twitched. ‘Cymbellea, bella amora mio! You are a genius.’

‘But he can’t even tie his own boot-laces,’ Alaron objected. ‘How will you get him to help?’

‘I know how,’ she insisted, and Alaron looked at her, then sat down resignedly.

‘Okay, okay. But what do we even know about breaking into buildings?’

Ramon laughed aloud. ‘I’m a Silacian. It’s in my blood.’

Sister, there has come amongst us a guru from Indrania! His ideas beggar belief: he would have us pollute ourselves in the name of a craven peace that benefits no one. The Nesti give him credence, unbelievably, and his influence spreads. It is the beginning of the end
.

L
ETTER FROM
L
ETO
G
ORGIO TO HIS
S
ISTER
U
NA
, J
AVON
836

Brochena, Javon, on the continent of Antiopia
1–12 Maicin 928
60 days until the Moontide

The remains of a young Jhafi woman lay on the steps to the canal. Elena knelt and stared down at the wide-open eyes, the shocked visage and the torn and bloodied nakedness that ended at the girl’s belly. Her hips and legs were gone, bitten clean away. More blood than could be believed covered the steps.

The girl was Mustaq al’Madhi’s niece, his brother’s daughter. The women of the family were screaming and tearing at their hair while the men beat their chests and howled threats. Beside her, Lorenzo
started vomiting again. She sympathised, but she’d seen worse.

Mustaq’s face was a mask of controlled fury. He stalked to her side. ‘This was done by Gyle?’

Elena nodded. ‘Mara did it – Mara Secordin, one of his assassins.’

‘Ahm protect us!’ The Jhafi headman glanced at his wailing relatives and lowered his voice. ‘The women were bathing. They say something huge reared out of the water and bit the poor girl in half—’ His voice was both awed and scared. He used these bathing ghats himself. ‘How is this possible?’

Elena dropped her voice to match his. ‘Mara is an Animagus, a beast-mistress. She has made a particular study of water-beasts.’

‘The women said it was a fish, five times the length of a man, with a mouth full of teeth!’

‘It’s called a
shark
. I have seen such beasts: they dwell in the oceans. Mara found a living one once, trapped in the tidelands. She dissected it and learned its shape, but its nature affected her. That can happen to an Animagus who spends too much time in beast form. She’s lost most of her humanity.’

Mustaq looked sick and murderous. ‘Gyle targets my family.’

Elena nodded. ‘He does: he has learned that you are hunting him and he thinks to warn you off.’ She ran her eye over the headman. ‘He thinks to frighten you into standing aside from the conflict.’

Mustaq scowled. ‘We of the Amteh know no fear,’ he boasted, though his voice was hollow. ‘We do not abandon our allies.’ He put his hand on Elena’s shoulder. ‘Tell Cera not to fear. We will remain true.’ He nodded emphatically, then said, ‘I must comfort my brother.’ He turned and hurried away.

Lorenzo groaned and stood. He rinsed his mouth with water and spat.

‘Come on,’ she whispered, ‘we can’t do anything more here.’

They made their way back into the haveli of the al’Madhi family, passing shocked children and womenfolk. There was no comfort they could give, so Elena led Lorenzo to the nearest Sollan church, a tiny shrine near the palace walls. The drui was away, and the shrine was empty. She pulled back her hood. Lorenzo’s face was pale beneath
his tan and he swayed slightly as he clutched at her. Gradually he steadied, but she could still feel him shaking.

‘Now you see what we’re up against,’ she whispered.

He squeezed her almost painfully tight, then fell to his knees before the altar, and started praying silently, fervently.

Elena remained standing.
I’m going to kill you, Mara. Somehow I will find a way
…

After a time, Lorenzo climbed to his feet, trembling still, but with a different heat; the aftermath of horror was turning into a need for consolation. It was a familiar reaction – she’d felt it herself during the Revolt – but she stepped away. ‘Lori, come: we must report this to Cera.’

His face was full of grief and need. ‘Ella,’ he whispered, ‘please: I just want to hold you.’

‘Not here,’ she replied, ‘not now. This is a holy place.’

He reached for her, but instinct took over and with a whoosh of gnostic force she hurled him away and sent him sprawling among the pews. The weight of his armour smashed through the wooden bench and he sprawled crookedly in the broken timbers.

‘Oh shit! Lorenzo, I’m so sorry—’ She hurried to him.

Lorenzo sat up, his face both alarmed and angered. ‘
Rukka mio
, Ella!’

‘I’m really am sorry!’ She offered a hand.

His Rimoni pride and temper were roused, but he clenched his teeth and accepted her hand to get to his feet. Then he let go and raised both his hands carefully. ‘See, I’m not touching you.’ He circled away from her as if she were a dangerous animal.

‘I’m sorry, Lori, but I don’t let people grab me like that, not by surprise—’

‘I only wanted to hold you, Ella,’ he whispered. ‘I mean you no harm.’

She hung her head. ‘I know, Lori. I do know that. I’m just not used to being that close to anyone.’

He put his hands on his hips, his eyes shining with frustrated passion. ‘Why do you still push me away, Ella? Are we not adults;
may we not speak frankly?’

‘All right, let’s do that.’ She glared back at him. ‘You said you understand me – but you do not.’ She began counting off fingers. ‘First: I’m a mage: you don’t grab us and expect to keep your hands! Two, I respect the Sollan faith enough to not desecrate the chapel. Three, I’m fertile this week and I cannot risk pregnancy. Four, I might travel with you after the shihad, but that is two years hence.’

She thought he might storm off, but he didn’t. ‘All right, my turn.’ He too raised his fingers. ‘One, I apologise for startling you. Two, the drui make love to priestesses during certain ceremonies so I don’t think they’d mind too much. Three, I’m not familiar with your courses so how would I know when you’re fertile? And four: I’m a man, not some swooning poetic hero who can be fobbed off with some decade-long errand for the Questing Beast! I’m not asking for undying, eternal love. I’m asking for you to acknowledge your desires. If you want me, stop flirting and be mine!’

Her temper flashed. ‘Flirting? I do not
flirt
—’

‘No? Who made eyes at me the whole time I was humiliating myself with Cera? Whose gaze follows me every time I enter the room. As mine follows her!’ He looked about to seize her again and she had to quell the urge to lash out. She stayed stock-still as he slowly reached out and gripped her forearms. ‘See, Ella? No harm is done when I touch you.’

Her heart thudded painfully against her ribcage as he stepped in and swept an arm about her and pressed his mouth to hers. The rough scrap of his chin chafed and his strength was alarming. But her legs turned liquid. The kiss went on for eras, and when he lifted his lips from hers she heard herself protest as she gulped in air, trembling.

‘Was that so bad, Ella?’

Her senses were spinning, her strength gone. ‘But Gurvon …’

‘Ella, I am already in the sights of the enemy. We both know that. What is it you truly fear?’

Good question. Intimacy? Something I can’t control? Falling in love?
Her
lips quivered, but words wouldn’t come out.

He released her. ‘Elena, speak plainly: will you accept my love or not?’

She was barely able to remain standing. ‘Lori, do you know the jest about porcupines? “How do porcupines make love? Very carefully.” We magi are like porcupines. I’m twice your age, but I’ve only made love with two men in my life. One was a boy, we were both seventeen. The other was Gurvon.’ She hung her head. ‘I do not count the times I have allowed myself to be had while on a mission, for those are not acts of love.’

His eyes explored her face, his expression twisting as he sought to understand. ‘Ella—’

She interrupted, desperate for him to understand. ‘Even with Gurvon, we were both fiercely protective of our minds. Being naked with another scares me – naked of defences, I mean. I have killed male magi by letting them take me just so I could get inside their defences. I dread another doing the same to me, so do not think I am just playing with you: my fears are real.’

He understood, which made her affection for him billow like sails catching the wind. ‘Elena, I hear you, but I am no mage, and I am no danger to you – quite the opposite.’ He stroked her hair. ‘My heart is in your hands. I will understand if you return it to me unused.’

The selflessness made her eyes blur. ‘Thank you, Lori.’ She gnawed her lip, utterly torn between duty and desire. ‘Please, let us speak again, in a few weeks. There is so much happening right now and I need to keep my head clear to think. Please?’

He bowed. ‘You give me hope, Ella. Thank you.’

They returned to the palace in silence. They needed to report to Cera and Paolo Castellini. And to make some kind of plan.
I must find Mara
, Elena kept repeating,
I must find Gurvon
…