The Magic Thief (22 page)

I
was being stupid.

“Lothfalas,”
I said again, and got to my feet. The light from my locus magicalicus grew even fainter, a glow that lit only my hand, making it look green and pale. The rest of the cell seethed with darkness. A misery eel dropped down
from the ceiling and settled on the back of my neck, a cold, bitter weight. Shuddering, I reached back and touched it with my locus stone and it dropped off, but another one oozed up from the floor and twined around my leg. Kicking it away, I lunged for the door. In the faint glow of my locus stone, I saw the lock, rusty, the dark keyhole in the center.

I placed my locus magicalicus over the lock; with my other hand I pushed a misery eel away from my face.
“Sessamay!”
I shouted, and followed with every single gate opening spell I knew.
Open!
I told the lock. These were not the right spells; the magic might not understand what I was asking for. But if the magic wanted me to save it, it would have to help me get away from the eels, out of the cell.

Nothing happened. Not even a flicker or flare of magic. More eels dropped down from overhead, a dead, cold weight; others rippled from the floor, up my legs. An icy scarf flowed around my neck, tightened. I caught my breath, slammed the
stone against the lock, and gasped out the opening spells again.

The glow from the locus stone flicked out; the misery eels tangled around me. Then the magic gathered itself. The locus stone spat out a burst of sizzling sparks, which shot into the lock and exploded. I threw myself against the door, turning the knob, and, trailing misery eels, fell out of the cell into the hallway.

Nevery was there. The door opening knocked him backward onto the floor; lockpick wires and his cane went flying. He'd been trying to pick the lock to get me out.

Keeston stood beside him, eyes wide, clutching a lantern. I landed on the floor, eels swarming over me.

“Curse it, boy,” Nevery said. “What are you doing?”

“Watch out for the eels!” I shouted. Reacting to the lantern light, the misery eels covering me oozed away. A shadowy mass of them gathered in the cell doorway.

Nevery saw them. He snatched up his cane and got to his feet. “The light should hold them,” he said. “Are you all right, boy?”

“Yes, fine,” I said, my voice shaking. I scrambled away from the door. An eel reached out into the corridor, testing. Keeston flinched.

“Don't drop the light, Keeston,” Nevery growled.

We'd be dead if he did.

Nevery straightened and scowled at me. “Why didn't you answer when I called?”

From outside the door? “I didn't hear you,” I said. The eels must have muffled the sound.

“Hmph,” Nevery said. “Well, come along.” He whirled and went
tap tap tap
ping down the hallway, Keeston and I following. The lantern light made a bubble of safety around us, and we left the misery eels behind.

We went up the stairs to the ground floor of Pettivox's house, which I hadn't seen before because I'd had a bag over my head. It was dark and echoing and empty.

Keeston went ahead of us with the lantern. Nevery dropped back to walk beside me. “Well?” He frowned down at me.

“Nevery, I'm not Crowe's,” I said.

“I have realized that, boy.”

“Here's the front door,” Keeston said over his shoulder.

Benet was there, standing guard over two of Pettivox's men, both gagged and tied up with ropes. Benet nodded when he saw me. “Found him?”

“Yes,” Nevery said, pausing to button up his cloak. “Take him and Keeston back to Heartsease.” He headed for the door.

“No, Nevery,” I said.

He stopped and looked back at me. “Come along, boy,” he said impatiently. “You've caused enough trouble and confusion already. The magic level has fallen drastically during the past two days; I have a meeting to attend at Magisters Hall.”

I shook my head.

“What, boy?” Nevery said. Benet stepped closer to hear, and Keeston stood beside us with the lantern.

I clenched my hands. He wasn't going to believe me. “The Underlord and Pettivox are stealing the magic tonight, Nevery. Right now. We have to stop them.”

“Boy,” Nevery began. “I do not—”

“Nevery,” I interrupted, getting desperate. “I went to Dusk House today. Last night, I mean. I saw the machine.” I shivered, remembering its pulsing and crashing and the empty hole it had left in the night when it had sucked in the magic. “The Underlord and Pettivox built a prisoning device. A capacitor. They've captured almost all the city's magic. If we don't go now and stop them, they will steal it all and Wellmet will die.”

“You claim you saw a machine?” Nevery asked. “Some kind of device?”

I nodded. “It was huge.”

“In the Underlord's mansion? How did you get inside?”

I opened my mouth to answer.

“Never mind,” Nevery said quickly. “I don't want to know.” He stared down at me, pulling on the end of his beard.

“I'll go by myself if I have to, Nevery,” I said.

“You would go and do what, boy? Stop the Underlord? Destroy this magical device?”

I nodded. The magic had chosen me for this; I wasn't going to let it die without trying to help it.

For a moment, all was still. I held my breath, waiting. Nevery could decide I was a liar and a thief, or he could trust me.

“Hmmm,” Nevery said. “A prisoning device. I suppose such a thing is possible.” He looked down at me. “All this time, boy, and you've never lied to me?”

I shook my head. I never had.

Slowly, Nevery nodded. “Well then. We will go together.”

W
hen we stepped out of Pettivox's house, it was night again. I'd spent the whole day in the basement room.

“We need to warn the duchess and ask her to send guards to Dusk House,” I said.

Nevery paused at the bottom of the steps. “Benet can go.”

“Keeston would be better,” I said. He was all right, and we needed Benet with us.

Nevery raised his eyebrows. “Would he?” He looked over at Keeston. “Well, Keeston. Can you be trusted?”

Keeston, still gripping the lantern, gulped, then nodded. “Yes, sir. I swear it. You can trust me, I promise, and—”

“Yes, all right,” Nevery interrupted. “Run to the Dawn Palace and tell the duchess what is happening. Tell her we've gone ahead to the Twilight, and that she must send as many guardsmen as she can. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Keeston said. He spun and raced off, slipping a bit on the snow.

“Let's go,” I said, and Nevery, Benet, and I headed toward the Night Bridge, to cross into the Twilight.

The streets were deserted and dark; the
werelights had gone out. The night felt desolate, empty. I put my hand in my pocket to check on my locus magicalicus, and it felt empty, too, and dead. The magic was gone.

We rushed down the hill like three black shadows, our feet crunching on the icy street, until we reached the Night Bridge. Ahead, the road led into the narrow way between the buildings on the bridge.

“Hold up,” Benet said suddenly, and grabbed Nevery and me by the arms to stop us. We stood, our breath steaming on the frigid air. Ahead, the bridge was completely dark, like a cave.

“What's the matter?” Nevery asked.

Benet shook his head. “Too quiet. Underlord might've posted guards.”

“Benet, we can't wait,” I whispered.

Benet pulled a truncheon out of his belt. “Follow.”

He led the way onto the dark bridge. Our footsteps sounded very loud in the silence.

Then, from out of the shadows, five dark shapes emerged. Minions. They didn't stop to warn us off, they just leaped at us, wielding clubs.

Benet stepped up to meet them, truncheon swinging. “Go!” he shouted over his shoulder. He ducked a punch.

Nevery and I backed up, our way across the bridge blocked. Three of the minions followed, until Benet threw his truncheon. It whirled through the air and clipped a minion on the back of the head; he fell over like a chopped tree. Benet leaped on the others. “I'll deal with these,” he shouted. “Just go!”

We turned and hurried away. I turned and looked over my shoulder and saw one of the minions wrench himself from Benet's grip and start after us. We went faster.

We didn't speak; the minion following us didn't shout. I heard my own panting breaths, and Nevery's, and the tap of Nevery's cane, and the
crunch crunch crunch
of our feet and the pursuing feet on the icy road.

We put on a burst of speed and rounded a corner, Nevery's cloak flaring as he spun around. He pulled out his locus magicalicus.
“Remirrimer,”
he said, and started muttering a spell.

Not enough magic. The minion was getting closer. I pulled on his sleeve. “Come on!”

Nevery cursed, and we started off again. “This way,” I said, and pointed down a street that led toward the river.

In the Sunrise, the riverbanks were walls built of stone, with stone stairways leading down to wooden docks. We paused on the riverbank, catching our breaths.

The air was absolutely still and brittle cold; if somebody hit it, it would shatter into a thousand sharp-edged pieces. There was no sound of rushing water.

I pointed at the river. “It's frozen. I think we can cross on the ice.”

“Yes,” Nevery said, straightening, and then the minion was on us. He was big and brawny; he
shoved me out of the way and swung a fist at Nevery.

Nevery grappled with him and they went rolling down the nearest set of stone stairs, down to a dock. I raced down after them, leaped from the bottom step onto the minion's back, and bit him on the ear. It tasted worse than the rat's tail. The minion shook me off; then Nevery swung the gold knob of his cane into the minion's face. “Hah!” he shouted.

The minion staggered back, blood streaming from his nose.

I scrambled to my feet. “You all right?” I asked.

“Yes, boy,” Nevery gasped. Behind us, the minion put his hands to his face and shook his head. Drops of blood spattered around him.

I turned to survey the river. It was laid out before us, still, frozen, the ice clean and smoothly black. To the left loomed the Night Bridge; no lights shone from the opposite shore.

Carefully, I stepped out onto the ice. Without speaking, Nevery followed.

We set off, sliding our feet along,
skff skff
, Nevery using his cane to balance himself. The riverbank receded behind us. Overhead, the sky was black and stars shone down as bright as daggers.

Halfway across, we paused. My breath puffed out in white clouds before my face. I looked back across the ice. The minion was coming.

“Keep going,” Nevery said.

Under my feet, the ice trembled. “Wait,” I whispered. I bent down and put my hand flat on the surface. The cold burned. And I felt the river rushing by, just below my fingers.

Slowly, I stood up. The ice creaked. It was thin, barely covering the water. “We'll have to go around,” I whispered.

Nevery nodded, and we edged around the thin ice, and then headed for the dark Twilight bank again.

I looked back over my shoulder. The minion, a
dark shape against the dark ice, thought he could catch us by going the short way across—he reached the thin ice and went on. “He's going to fall in,” I said.

As I spoke, the ice beneath the minion gave way and, like a stone dropping into a puddle, he plunged into the river, cursing and thrashing. I glanced at Nevery.

“Keep going,” he said grimly.

We kept going, expecting the ice to crack under our feet and send us into the freezing water, too.

As we neared the Twilight bank, I saw that the tenements and warehouses were all dark and still. At the very edge of the river, we climbed the rocky bank and up onto a rutted path that led along the side of a warehouse.

We paused for a moment, catching our breaths, then I started off again.

“Wait, boy,” Nevery said.

“We can't wait, Nevery,” I said. “It might be
too late already.” I started walking, fast, and Nevery strode along beside me. We came around the corner of the warehouse and headed up the nearest steep street, which was edged with tumbledown tenement houses.

“Too late for what, exactly?” Nevery asked.

I shook my head. I hadn't really had time to think it all through. “The Underlord built the device to capture all the magic.”

“If that is what the device is for,” Nevery said, “it would appear that he plans to hold the city hostage.”

Right. Magic wasn't just for running the factories or keeping the werelights lit, it was the lifeblood of the city. With the device, Crowe's calculations told him, he would control all the magic, and the people would have to pay him for it. He would rule the city, all of it, not just the Twilight. But the Underlord was wrong. “Nevery, the magic can't stay inside that prison device. It will die.” And soon, if we didn't let it out.

“Boy, the magic isn't alive.”

I wasn't going to argue with him about it. But if we didn't hurry, it would be too late.

We climbed the streets until we reached Dusk House. We peered in through the barred gate. The building was still, dark, and silent, but the air felt wound tight. Waiting.

“We ought to wait for the duchess's guards,” Nevery said softly.

I shook my head. The guards would have to fight through the minions on the Night Bridge, and that might take too long.

“I don't suppose you have a plan,” Nevery said.

No, I didn't. “I think we just have to go in, Nevery,” I said.

“This is why you get into trouble, boy,” Nevery muttered.

“Come on,” I said.

Staying in the shadows, I led Nevery through the gate and around to the back of the Underlord's mansion, to the door I'd gone in when disguised as a cat. It was unguarded.

We made our way through the dark hallways, stopping now and then to listen, hearing nothing. The minions were all off blocking the bridge, I realized. They hadn't expected anyone to cross the ice. Sure as sure, though, they hadn't left the device completely unguarded.

Finally we came to the room with the entrance to the underground workshop. The bookcase-door was closed, the room dark.

“The bookcase opens,” I whispered to Nevery. I led him across the room, then reached up to push the panel that opened it. The bookcase swung open and the stairway gaped like a pit before us.

Without hesitating, I led Nevery down the narrow stairway to the second turning, and peered around. The lights in the cavernous workroom were dimmed; in the center of the shadowy room squatted the prisoning device, swollen and shiny, like a giant leech well fed on blood. Its gears and pistons were still, and the slowsilver was frozen in its crystal tubes. The riveted storage tank in the middle bulged. The magic was caught in there.
Down in my bones, I felt a squealing hum, the magic straining at the prison, trying to escape. I also felt a faint tingle in the air; a very little bit of the magic was left, lingering outside the device where the rest of it was trapped.

Down in the pit, a few minions were lounging around in the shadows, and, by one of the chart-covered tables, Pettivox sat writing something by the light of his locus stone.

I put my hand into my pocket to check on my own locus magicalicus. A stone could be destroyed by magic, Nevery had told me once, and its wizard with it. I took a deep breath. The magic had chosen me for this, I reminded myself. I couldn't go off and let it die. I marked out a path from the stairs to the device. I had to try, at least.

I eased around the corner.

“What are you doing, boy?” I heard Nevery whisper, but I kept going, creeping down the stairs.

One of the minions shouted, his voice echoing in the huge workroom. At the sound, Pettivox
glanced up from the table. Seeing me, he stood bolt upright, his chair crashing to the floor behind him.
“You!”
he shouted. I got to the bottom of the stairs and started to run.

The minions closed in; I kept going, across the stone floor, toward the device. I wasn't sure what I was going to do when I got there. If I got there.

A minion made a grab at me; another one caught at my sleeve, but I eeled away. Pettivox strode across the room, shouting, his words lost in the echoes. I whirled away from another minion, and Pettivox was there, seizing me by the hair, lifting me off my feet. Two minions grabbed me. I twisted and wriggled like a worm on a fishhook, but they had me.

Pettivox let me go, drew his hand back, and struck me a crashing blow across the face; if the minions hadn't been holding me I would have fallen. “You,” he snarled again.

I shook my head. One of my teeth was loose and I had blood in my mouth. Black spots danced before my eyes. From where I stood, the minions
gripping my arms tightly, I saw the device looming overhead, the dim light glinting off its gears and wires.

Pettivox leaned over me, teeth bared. “You're dead, thief. The Underlord will return shortly, and he will kill you himself.” He drew back his fist to hit me again. I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth.

But then came a shout. “Pettivox!” Nevery bellowed. My eyes popped open.

Down the stairs Nevery strode, his gray cloak swirling. At the bottom, he swung his knob-headed cane and slammed it into a table cluttered with leftover copper parts; they clattered to the ground.

Pettivox jerked up and around.

The minions holding me stared, but their grips didn't loosen.

Striding across the floor, drawing on the magic left outside the device, Nevery began a spell, a river of words that flowed from his mouth and swelled to fill the room, echoing from the walls.
Just beneath the ceiling, way overhead, wisps of fog appeared, then gathered into clouds, gray and plump with rain. The giant workroom grew dark.

Nevery shouted the last word of the spell and the clouds rumble-rolled together. Lightning flashed down. With a shriek, Pettivox leaped out of the way, and the bolt scorched the ground where he'd stood. The minions holding me staggered back. Thunder growled.

Nevery started another spell; Pettivox was shouting a spell of his own. Their voices echoed from the walls.

Overhead, the clouds' bellies swelled, then exploded. Bolts of lightning zinged in all directions, ricocheting from one stone wall to the other, and then crashing into the device. Sparks leaped from its rivets and gears, but the magic stayed locked within.

A sizzling blue bolt whizzed just over my head. The two minions holding me flinched. That was all I needed.

With a twist of my shoulders, I pulled myself
out of the minions' hands, kicked one of them in the shins, and sprinted toward the device. The minions shouted and followed, right on my heels.