The Conjuring Man, page 31
Clever of the bastard king, he thought, grimly. The ruined farmhouses and the missing bodies made sense now. The farmers had been killed and eaten. If they catch the rebels in the open, they’ll slaughter them.
He scowled. He’d heard the stories from the final battles of the Necromantic War. Massed gunfire could tear orcs to shreds, but the troops had to be intensely disciplined to stand their ground and keep firing with the enemy monsters bearing down. Could the rebels stand their ground? It had been hard for him to stay in line, when the university had been attacked, and that had been when he hadn’t had anywhere to run. The rebels could, in theory, vanish back into the local population and escape.
His legs ached, but he tried to keep moving. If he could stay out of sight ... no such luck. The bastards were following him, crashing through the fields and stomping the unripe crops into the dirt under their heavy feet. His hand dropped to his pistol, unsure just what it could do. Their skulls were as tough as the rest of their bodies. He might be able to shoot one of them in the head, but would it actually kill his target? And what about the rest of them? There were at least five or six following him.
He touched the wand. A cancelling charm. Wonderful. It would have given Jasper a nasty shock, if he’d tried to hex a defenceless victim, but it would be worse than useless against an orc. He might as well try to punch the wretched creatures. Adam knew he was reasonably fit and strong but hitting an orc would be like hammering a stone with his bare hands. The orc might not even notice it had been hit!
A shudder ran through him as he found a dark stream and headed downwards, hoping they lost his scent. How were they tracking him? How well could they see in the gathering darkness? Perhaps it was scent, he decided an instant later as they turned to wade into the water to follow him. He wasn’t sure why they weren’t picking up speed. Could he outrun them? Or were they like the prowlers on the streets, getting more pleasure from pacing their quarry and forcing the poor girl to run in a futile bid to save herself before finally running her down? Everything he’d heard about them suggested they didn’t have the intelligence to be sadistic, but if he was wrong ...
He paused, a thought crossing his mind. The orcs were slaves. He’d seen their slave collars, back when he’d passed through Farrakhan to reach Heart’s Eye. Collars were rare in Beneficence, where most slaves were entitled to earn and save money to pay off their debts and buy their freedom, but he’d seen a couple. They were clear proof their victim would never be free, that the slave had no hope of seeing freedom again. And if the orcs were unwilling slaves ... he heard them pick up speed behind him and drew his wand, bracing himself. They were growing tired of the chase. If they laid hands on him, he was dead. The only consolation was that it would probably be quick.
The wand felt absurdly light in his hand as he took aim and jabbed it at the nearest orc. He had no idea if it would work, but nothing better came to mind. Slave collars were designed to be hard to remove, he’d been told, yet was that true? A slave couldn’t take off his own collar and no one else would try, not without a very good reason. Back home, anyone with a collar was almost certainly guilty of the most heinous crimes ...
He watched the orcs stagger, as if he’d struck them a physical blow. He wasn’t sure what it would be like, to be a slave one moment and free the next, but it had to be disorienting. The orcs seemed dazed ... he drew his pistol, hoping the flash wouldn’t be too visible, and fired at the nearest orc. The bullet struck him a glancing blow, prompting him to strike the orc next to him. Moments later, they were fighting so savagely that Adam felt the ground shake. If he were caught in the middle, he’d be mashed to pulp.
Move, he told himself. He had no idea how long they’d be fighting, but when they recovered themselves, they’d be coming after him again. Hurry.
Sweat ran down his back as he forced himself to move, heading towards the city and away from the hunters as fast as he could without running. Lenovo was a dark and brooding mass in the distance, the shadows only slightly broken by glimmering flickers of light. He wondered, idly, if the population was afraid of enemy airships. Voidsdaughter might look magical, as she soared amongst the clouds, but she was a piece of technology and anyone could duplicate her, if they tried. Adam wouldn’t have cared to bet the other kingdoms weren’t already trying to build their own, now that they knew it was possible. The kingdoms that hadn’t been plunged into chaos had no choice, but to try to catch up before it was too late.
The sound of battle died, behind him, as he found a railway and ran west along the tracks. Roads were unreliable, particularly when the locals had excellent reasons not to maintain them, but the railways were as close to straight lines as possible. Taffy had told him ... he hoped, prayed, that Taffy hadn’t been caught by the enemy counteroffensive and killed before she had a chance to escape. Arnold had reason to keep Lilith alive, but not Taffy. She’d been nothing more than a tool to him, and now she’d outlived her usefulness. And now ...
“Freeze,” a voice snapped. Light, blinding light, burned into his eyes. “Don’t move!”
Adam gritted his teeth, bracing himself. The patrol ... he hadn’t had an inkling they were there, until they showed themselves. They advanced forward warily, eying him as though they thought he was an orc. Adam almost smiled as they splashed durian potion on him, despite the stench, and confiscated his weapons. They had to be Levellers. They had to be. The other options were unthinkable.
“Who are you?” The leader asked. Adam could barely see the leader’s face – his eyes were still sore – but the man’s accent was pure merchant class. “And why are you here?”
“Adam,” Adam managed. “Adam of Heart’s Eye. Take me to your leader.”
The man hesitated. “You think anyone will believe that?”
Adam swore under his breath. If the man hadn’t seen him ... of course he wouldn’t take Adam’s word for it. He’d think Adam was lying, claiming to be Adam of Heart’s Eye ... it wasn’t as if it was an uncommon name. With a little care, he might even be able to fool a lie detector spell ...
“Dalia will vouch for me,” Adam said, hoping to all the gods Dalia wasn’t already dead. “Or Jasper. He’ll tell you who I am.”
“This way,” the man grunted, finally. “Put one step out of line and I’ll gut you.”
Adam nodded as he was half-pushed down the tracks. He was mildly surprised he hadn’t been tied up. It would have been safer for them ... at least in the short term. Adam wouldn’t have born a grudge, afterwards, but most people would have wanted revenge if they got tied up like a chicken and frog-marched into the city. He put the thought aside as the outer walls loomed up in front of them, bristling with cannon. It was starting to look as though the planned offensive had gone off the rails.
“He says he’s Adam. The Adam,” the leader said, once they were in the guardhouse. “And he says you’ll vouch for him.”
Jasper stepped into the light. Adam tensed, despite himself. He had no more weapons, no clever tricks ... if Jasper decided to pretend he didn’t know Adam from all the other Adams, he’d be lucky if his throat was cut and his body dumped in a mass grave. It was hard, so hard, to feel optimistic. Jasper had been growing up, Adam supposed, but if he’d been an asshole once ...
“Adam?” Jasper sounded astonished. “What happened?”
“Long story,” Adam said. He wasn’t sure how much of it he dared tell. Not yet. “I have to get back to the university.”
Jasper nodded. “I’ll take him,” he said, to the leader. “You can let him go.”
Adam allowed himself a moment of relief. “What happened here?”
“We sent out small units to secure the bridges,” Jasper said. “They got attacked by orcs and driven back in disarray. The airship was supposed to come to their aid ...”
“It was attacked,” Adam said flatly, as they neared the portal. “I have to get back to the university. Quickly.”
“Good luck,” Jasper said. He slapped Adam’s back. “Chin up.”
Adam glowered – clearly Jasper hadn’t changed as much as he’d hoped – then put the irritation out of his mind as he stepped through the portal. The university loomed in front of him, so overwhelmingly huge he barely noticed the guards on the far side. It was sheer luck, he told himself, that Captain Blademaster hadn’t been on the airship ... Captain Harkness was supposed to be a good man, but he wasn’t part of the war council and couldn’t tell the enemy very much at all. And Yvonne and Praxis ... if they’d fallen into enemy hands...
“There you are,” a sharp voice snapped. Adam looked up to see Master Dagon, perhaps the very last person he wanted to see. “My office. Now!”
Adam hesitated, then realised he had no choice. Master Dagon was already walking away, looking ready to levitate Adam into the air and drag him along if he refused to walk under his own power. Adam gritted his teeth, trying to organise his clashing thoughts. The airship had been captured, and Lilith ... she’d been captured, too. He hoped.
Master Dagon didn’t speak until they were in his office, with the door firmly closed and locked. “Adam,” he growled. “Where is my daughter?”
Chapter Thirty-Three: Lilith of House Ashworth
Lilith came back to herself slowly. Very slowly.
She kept her eyes closed as she tried to focus her mind. Her memories were a jumbled mess. She’d made a decision – the decision – and then gone through with it and then she’d been on Voidsdaughter and ... her memories sharpened as she recalled the details, the exact moment she’d realised the airship was doomed. She had no idea how the enemy had worked out precisely how to use a portal to drop an assault force right on top of the airship, but it hardly mattered. There was no way they could fight off Arnold and his team, not without blowing Voidsdaughter up. She’d had bare seconds to put together a plan to keep Adam out of Arnold’s hands, and she had no way to know, now, if he’d survived. She could easily have sent him tumbling to his death.
Her mind felt woolly, as if she’d been drugged, and her thoughts started to wander. It had been strange and wonderful to find herself falling in love, even though part of her feared she’d wanted him purely because her father would hate the relationship. Adam was a good and decent man, despite everything she’d done to him; she knew, if she’d ever gotten her tormentor at her mercy, she wouldn’t have been anything like so kind. Maybe he was a mundane, with less power in his entire body than she had in a single fingertip, but it hardly mattered. He was a good man. Lilith knew she’d have no trouble putting together an argument that would satisfy Melissa, the Matriarch, if her father kicked up a fuss about the match, but the argument wasn’t the argument. House Ashworth had good reason to want Adam and Lilith to marry, yet ... she wanted to marry him because he was a good man. And now ...
“Open your eyes,” a voice ordered.
Lilith wanted to keep her eyes firmly shut, but they opened anyway. She blinked at the sudden brightness, then at the strange room. It didn’t seem like a prison cell, more like a guest room in the family mansion. There were some hints of magical influence in places – a handful of runes painted onto the walls, woven into the décor, and what was very clearly a runic mirror – but otherwise it might as well have been as mundane as much of Heart’s Ease. The old Heart’s Ease. Lilith would never tell anyone, perhaps not even Adam, but she missed the old town. She hadn’t really understood how wonderful it had been until most of it was reduced to rubble and ruin.
“Well,” the voice said. “It has been a while, hasn’t it?”
Lilith frowned. She was sitting in a comfortable chair ... unbound. Tying her hands and feet wouldn’t have stopped her from casting spells – it wasn’t as if she was a junior student who needed to move her hands or verbalise her spellwork – but it was odd. Someone had taken her outfit and replaced it with a simple shift, a calculated move to make her feel vulnerable ... her lips twisted at the thought. She was a Witch of Laughter Academy, a girl who’d grown up in dorms so cramped the students had practically been living in each other’s pockets, and he thought reminding her she’d been undressed by someone else would unnerve her? Perhaps Arnold wasn’t as observant as she’d thought. But then, she hadn’t been his first priority. Not then.
“It has,” she said, trying to sound unmoved. “Where is this place?”
Arnold – she knew it was him, even though he wore the outfit of a trusted courtier and his face was so bland she was sure it was a mask – smiled. He was sitting on a stool next to her, close enough to reach out and touch ... she gathered her magic, shaping a spell to strike at point-blank range ... and then cursed, inwardly, as the magic simply slipped away before it even manifested. Her eyes narrowed. She’d expected wards to keep her safely imprisoned – and durian potion, to ensure she had no magic to even the odds – and yet, something felt really wrong. Her mind spun in circles. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was there.
“Dear me,” Arnold said, dryly. “Did you think you could use magic without my permission? I really thought you had more than one or two cells in that little brain of yours.”
Lilith refused to allow him to irritate her. “But think how stupid I would have looked if I hadn’t tried,” she said, although something was nagging at her mind. The spell had been squashed so quickly she was astonished he’d even been aware of it. It had really been nothing more than a passing thought. “Why am I here?”
Arnold smiled. “There are worse places to be,” he said. “His Majesty’s dungeons are currently heaving with hostages, prisoners, and people who just happened to find themselves on a list of subversives. We have so little room we had to set up a special prison for your airship crew.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Lilith said. “Why am I here?”
“I asked His Majesty if I could keep you,” Arnold said. “And he agreed.”
“I’m sure he did,” Lilith said. It was hard to keep the sneer out of her voice. “After all, you’re the one pulling the strings, aren’t you?”
“Something like that,” Arnold agreed. He paused, dramatically. “Have you figured it out yet?”
Lilith felt her blood run cold. Had Arnold read her mind? That would be worse than any physical violation. She was no Soul Mage, and she knew little about Soul Magic beyond the basics, but it was supposed to be possible for such a mage to read someone’s mind ... she forced herself to think, hastily recalling every vague detail she’d read when she’d been bored and desperate for something to do. Was it possible? Or was he pulling a fast one? He might be counting on her imagination to convince her she couldn’t hide anything from him. Arnold was cunning and devious and ruthless enough to try.
“No,” she said, finally. “What have you done?”
Arnold smiled. “Stand up. Look in the mirror. And then tell me.”
Lilith felt her body move of its own accord, before her conscious mind had quite realised what he’d said. She gasped, despite herself, as her body rose from the chair and walked straight to the mirror. Her face looked back at her, pale and wan and ...
Her thoughts stopped. “No.”
“Yes,” Arnold said. “What do you see?”
Lilith swallowed, hard. There was a collar around her neck. She’d been collared ... panic yammered at the back of her mind, her fingers reaching to touch the collar but stopping before they touched the flimsy metal. She knew she was nowhere near as strong as Taffy – the farmgirl was more muscular than the average male magician – and yet she was sure she could tear the collar from her neck, if only she could touch it. The collar was programmed not to let her. She suspected it was also charmed to make it difficult for her to realise she had been collared. If she didn’t know her body was no longer her own, she couldn’t start planning to take it back.
“No,” she said, again. The words bubbled up helplessly, driven by fear and – perhaps – by the subtle magic pressing against her mind. “Take it off.”
“No,” Arnold said. “Not yet, anyway. Perhaps if you behave yourself.”
Lilith felt a hot flash of anger. That was a joke. The collar would keep her nicely obedient, unable to go against his orders, until someone removed it. Or ... her anger grew worse as she studied the design in the mirror. Spell circuits. Arnold had taken Adam’s work and perverted it and ... she forced herself to calm down, to remember she still had her intelligence and experience. She’d been helpless before – an older student had once floated her upside down, showing her knickers to the rest of the school – and she’d survived. And she’d taken revenge. Arnold had made a terrible mistake by not killing her on the spot. She would make him regret it if it was the last thing she’d ever do.
“Go back to your seat,” Arnold ordered. “And stay there till I tell you otherwise.”
Lilith didn’t try to resist as her body turned and walked back to the chair. She should have noticed earlier, a lot earlier. No wonder she hadn’t been tied up or drenched with potion! Her own body would keep her captive far easier than any ropes or potions or anything ... even an object transformation. And he could interrogate her at leisure ...
“I hear you and Adam are still together,” Arnold said, easily. “What do you see in him?”
“He’s a good man,” Lilith growled. The collar ensured she couldn’t lie to the bastard, damn him. She could feel it prickling at her mind, trying to make her do more than give the barest of bare bones answers. “Why do you even care?”
“I’m curious,” Adam said. “A young woman with your potential, truly the greatest I have ever met, and him, a powerless mundane with a few clever tricks. And you are dating him ... why? Does your father go red with anger whenever he sees the two of you holding hands?”
Lilith picked her words very carefully. “My father doesn’t like it, no,” she said. If Arnold asked the right questions, he might uncover the magiwriter secret and then ... she dreaded to think what he’d do. She had to make sure he didn’t get even the slightest hint of just how far magitech had travelled since Arnold had fled, without ever outright lying to him. “But I have stopped caring about what my father thinks.”
