The Sorcerer's Abyss (The Sorcerer's Path) (48 page)

“Indeed, Your Grace,” Elias intoned.

“Oh and, boy,” the Duchess called after the departing page, “inform my chef I am in the mood for horsemeat kebobs with sweet and sour apples tonight.”

Ellyssa stood and clenched her fists when she heard the door opening. She launched herself at Fennrick the instant she recognized his face. The wizard pointed his palm at her as if to tell her to stop and a force struck her in the chest hard enough to throw her back onto her cot.

“That’s hardly any way to greet the man who saved your life,” Fennrick said casually.

Ellyssa gripped the rail of her cot hard enough to whiten her knuckles. “What are you talking about?”

“I think you know,” Fennrick said with a wry grin.

Ellyssa thought back to final moments of her fight with the thief wizard. “It was you. You weakened his ward and distracted him.”

“I couldn’t have him kill you. It would be inconvenient for us.”

Ellyssa did not bother to stand again. She was powerless to harm the wizard and was not sure if she had the strength to hurt him if she could. Her head hurt and her body felt like a sack of mush.

“Where am I? What do you want with me?” She gave Fennrick a defiant scowl.

“You are in a holding cell beneath the Hall of Inquisition. I am sure you have already discovered your inability to channel the Source?” Ellyssa responded with a sour look. “Tomorrow, you will be tried for a multitude of crimes involving the illegal use of magic, most of which carries the mandatory sentence of execution.”

Ellyssa’s head slunk dejectedly. Not from the threat of death, but because she would not be able to destroy Captain Jake and scour every slave ship and crew from the face of the planet. Perhaps her spirit would continue in this world like the banshee at the school. Then she could haunt Jake and his ilk for all eternity.

Fennrick watched her lips turn upward. “Not many people smile when they learn of their impending death.”

“Most people probably put more value on their lives.”

Of all the responses the inquisitor had prepared for, eager acceptance was not one of them. He began to wonder if the girl really was insane. If she sought to use this as a defense, it would not do her any good. Insane wizards were executed immediately for the safety of the public no matter their crimes.

Fennrick continued unabated. “We can however accept certain mitigating circumstances which could commute your execution to a term of imprisonment. I can likely get your cell upgraded to one a bit more accommodating as well.”

Ellyssa smirked and let out a small laugh. “You can’t read the book. Not one of you high and mighty inquisitors, or probably Academy snobs either, can get the book to talk to them.”

Fennrick’s face showed his displeasure despite his neutral tone. “As of yet, you are correct. However, The Academy is certainly going to be sending delegations to inspect the Codex. All it takes is for one of them to be chosen, and then you are no longer necessary.”

Ellyssa mulled over her options and responses then nodded. “I want it in writing that if I help you use the book you will not execute me when I am no longer needed.”

“I am certain I can get that assurance from the Duchess and inquisition council.”

Fennrick kept stone-faced but inside he was elated. His ability to plumb the depths of the Codex Arcana would increase his knowledge considerably and guarantee him the highest position within the order, even it did require going through the girl.

“There is a ritual to complete, but I will need you to get a few things,” Ellyssa continued.

 “I will ensure you have everything you need.

“First, you need to get a rough-hewn staff. Length is not as important as girth. Then bend over at the waist and, you may need assistance with this next part…”

The inquisitor turned red-faced with indignation. “We will see how amusing and defiant you are after your trial!”

Inquisitor Fennrick stormed from the cell and Ellyssa listened to the thick bolt clack securely closed. A myriad of emotions warred within her as she pondered what appeared to be her imminent demise. First was fear, followed by a sort of numb acceptance. The most surprising emotion finally achieving dominance was relief and even some anticipation.

Ellyssa had not realized how exhausting holding on to so much hate, guilt, and fear had been. Her entire body seemed to melt as her muscles relaxed for the first time in years. No more pain of abandonment, no more guilt for Azerick’s death, and no more hateful eyes stabbing her with blame. Finally, there would be an end. Ellyssa slept more soundly that night than any other since her enslavement.

Despite her peaceful sleep, strangely bereft of the usual nightmares, Ellyssa snapped awake the instant she heard the key fitted to the lock of her cell. As she expected, Fennrick emerged from the open door, but this time with two other wizards at his side.

“I hope you had plenty of time to consider your situation last night,” the inquisitor stated.

“I did.” Ellyssa met his look from where she sat on the edge of the cot.

“You can save yourself this unpleasantness by cooperating,” Fennrick said once more. “My offer still stands.”

A wry grin tugged at the corner of Ellyssa’s mouth. “So does mine.”

Fennrick’s expression soured. “Stand up and extend your arms.”

Ellyssa complied and the man snapped on the rune-etched shackles preventing her from reaching the Source. Fennrick grabbed her roughly by the elbow and pushed her into the dim passageway beyond her door. Ellyssa was not very familiar with dungeons, but this one seemed much cleaner than she imagined them to be.

Fennrick guided her up a narrow, winding staircase while the other two wizards kept pace several feet to her front and back. After ascending perhaps twenty feet, the party came to a landing. The inquisitor guided her through a door, but the stairs continued upward into what Ellyssa assumed was a tower.

The plain stone of the dungeon became polished red marble. The palatial décor of the place made Ellyssa wonder if she were in the Duchess’ palace. Wherever she was, it was large and heavily populated with wizards, nearly all of whom gave her stern looks in passing. The group finally arrived at what appeared to be an antechamber where one of her escorts detached from the group and vanished through a second set of doors.

Despite her earlier acceptance of death, Ellyssa found the wait interminable. No one spoke or even allowed her to sit upon one of the padded benches stretching along the two opposing walls. Apparently, those inside were nearly as eager to finish this as she was because it was barely an hour before her missing guard returned and motioned them inside.

Ellyssa felt the first pangs of fear, even panic, the instant she stepped into the room. It was a circular room made of multiple tiers of white marble, contrasting sharply with the three or four score of black-clad inquisitors seated within. Ellyssa’s heart hammered in her chest as Fennrick forced her to the center of a room that felt far too much like the training pits of Bakhtaran. Had the floor been comprised of sand instead of marble, Ellyssa was certain she would have lost her mind.

She took several deep, shuddering breaths and summoned her focus as she was taught when working magic under stressful circumstances. It took several moments, but her head finally cleared and her heart returned to a more normal if still elevated rate. She met the eyes of the stern woman directly ahead of her and the only one seated on a throne instead of the endless circular benches ringing the arena-like chamber.

“Ellyssa Jensen,” Duchess Paulina called down from her lofty seat, “I am Duchess Paulina, hereto referred to as Your Grace. As the head of state, I preside over all court trials whose significance warrants my attention within my demesne.”

“Did you preside over your own trial when King Jarvin was hanging the rest of the traitors as well?” Ellyssa boldly countered.

Several wizards shifted in agitation and faces burned red at Ellyssa’s effrontery. “Miss Jensen, such disrespect will not bode well for you during this trial. I strongly suggest you take this very seriously.”

“I fail to see how it could
bode
any worse. I was already told I would be executed immediately after this farce of a trial, so why don’t we just skip all this pointless posturing and get on with it?”

“Very well, Miss Jensen. You are accused of pursuing magic without the lawful guidance of an approved member of The Academy. On numerous occasions, you used magic during criminal activity that included assault, destruction of property, and murder. You also used magic to assault several members of The Academy and the Office of Inquisition while dutifully assigned to your apprehension. How do you plead?”

“Guilty, and if you remove these shackles I’ll give you a firsthand accounting of a few of those bogus charges!”

The Duchess set her jaw and steeled herself against Ellyssa’s blatant disrespect. This was the point in a trial where nearly all the convicted begged for mercy. The girl’s fearless hostility left her a bit off balance.

“Then I have no recourse but to sentence you to death by hanging. Your sentence will be carried out at noon tomorrow. However, I am in a generous mood, and in light of your relationship to Lady Miranda and the North Haven court, I am willing to grant you leniency in exchange for your cooperation. Assist my inquisitors and The Academy in their study of the Codex Arcana, and I will commute your sentence to imprisonment. Prove yourself useful, and even those accommodations need not be uncomfortable. What say you?”

Ellyssa glared balefully up at the Duchess. “I say you can share the same stick with Fennrick.”

The Duchess narrowed her eyes and tilted her head slightly. “What does she mean by that, Fennrick?”

The inquisitor shuffled his feet nervously. “It is in regard to her response when I proposed a similar proposition, Your Grace, one that is rather untoward and I would rather not repeat.”

“Explain, inquisitor,” Paulina demanded. “I am not some blushing little maiden.”

Fennrick cleared his throat and answered, “She told me to go fornicate myself with a rough-hewn staff, Your Grace.”