A Crucible of Souls (Book One of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) (70 page)

BOOK: A Crucible of Souls (Book One of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence)
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We will, don’t worry.

Caldan walked across the courtyard, one hand resting on the pommel of his new sword. Without hesitation, he entered the hallway followed by Miranda, who flicked a nervous glance behind her to make sure the courtyard was still clear.

To their left lay two more corpses, one on top of the other. Swords lay next to the bodies. Both had their throats sliced, and slashes of crimson painted the wall above them. Wordlessly, Caldan ushered Miranda around them.

After a few turns into dim hallways, they found themselves at the top of a set of stairs leading down into semi-darkness.


Here’s one,

whispered Caldan. He took a few steps then paused. A moment later, his metal automaton crept past their legs and made its way fluidly down the stone stairs. At the bottom, Caldan sent it further ahead into the gloom. Within moments, he confirmed there was no one close.


It’s all clear. Let’s go.

He quickly descended the steps and found himself exactly where he had expected, a room with cell doors on either side.


Wait,

hissed Miranda at him.

It’s dark. How can you see down there?

He turned to see her edging along a wall guided by her hand, taking the steps one at a time, making sure both feet stood on a step before taking another. Caldan could see her clearly, despite the apparent darkness. Strange. He always thought he had good night vision and had often been able to read well past the time when others would need a light to see by, but this was a surprise. Was his sight much better than Miranda’s?


Is it too dark for you?

he ventured.


Yes. Don’t you have a light?


Of course.

He opened his sack and pulled out a candle along with his alchemical sticks. He scratched a stick across the wall, and it burst into flame. He lit the candle and blew out the stick. By the light of the candle, Miranda hastened down the remaining steps.

Caldan gestured at the cell doors.

These are like the ones I was held in, though there’s no one here.


Are you certain?


Yes.

He hesitated.

But maybe we can check anyway, to be sure.

They went to each cell door and looked through the bars to confirm none were occupied. Empty.

Caldan breathed a sigh of relief.

At least I know the automaton works.


Wait… you mean you didn’t know it worked properly?

Caldan spread his hands.

It sensed the people through the door before, so I was fairly sure. I didn’t have time to test it. Seems like it’s doing fine.

Miranda stared at him for a few moments then turned away, shaking her head.


I thought it would work properly. No reason for it not to. I’m pretty good at
crafting
.


Remind me, aren’t you an apprentice?


Almost a journeyman,

sputtered Caldan.

Master Simmon said he would raise me on the basis of the wristband I crafted.


Well… as long as it’s working.


Of course it is. I made it.

He saw Miranda roll her eyes and decided to ignore her.

This place is empty. Let’s find another.

This proved to be easy, though the next room they found at the bottom of the stairs proved to be a cellar storing cheeses and jugs of cheap wine. Soon, though, they found yet another set of stairs and another block of cells.

Despite the distance they had covered inside the Sorcerers’ Guild, they hadn’t encountered anyone. Caldan worried over this. There should have been many more people around, and it was all too easy. Where was everyone? The Indryallans should be patrolling the building or using the place as a base for their operation, whatever that entailed. And where were the sorcerers? The corridors were as silent as a tomb. Caldan shuddered at the association the thought brought to him. Perhaps the Indryallans had found what they were looking for and moved on.

Clinking on the stone steps, his crafted metal automaton swiftly descended the stairs into the room below. This time it sensed one of the cells was occupied.

Caldan brought a finger to his lips and gestured for Miranda to be quiet. She froze in place.

He whispered in her ear.

There’s someone in one of the cells. Move a few steps down, so you can’t be seen from the hallway, then stay there. As far as I can tell, there isn’t a guard, but I want to make sure.

Miranda nodded her assent.

I’ll be fine,

she whispered back.

Caldan gave her as reassuring a smile as he could muster then descended the steps slowly. He gripped his sword and drew a handspan of the blade out of the scabbard.

Like in the cells where he had been kept, the air reeked of decay and urine. Taking care to be quiet, he crept forward one step at a time. His automaton stood before one of the doors, and he moved towards it.

Metal clinked against metal. Chains scraped over the stone floor. A sob came from the cell.

Caldan stood still, heart thumping, breathing as quietly as he could.

Chains clinked again. Someone cursed. A voice rang out.


Who’s there?

a man croaked, the sound echoing loudly after the silence.

Caldan hesitated. He thought he recognized the voice.


I know someone’s there.

The man gave a ragged cough.

Show yourself… or not… It doesn’t matter.

He stepped towards the door. Through the barred window, he saw a man on the floor, curled into a ball. His clothes were torn and bloody, face smeared with dirt. Chains led from fastenings in the wall to manacles around his wrists.


Master Simmon? Is that you?

Simmon flinched. He drew himself in tighter, as if trying to close out the world around him.


Go away. Get out of here.

Caldan fumbled in his pocket for the chalk and hastily scribed patterns on the lock.

I’ve come to rescue you. We can get you out of here. Do you know what’s happened to the other masters?

He accessed his well and the lock opened with a sharp click.

Simmon grimaced.

I know.

His voice barely carried to Caldan.

I know what happened to them all.

He turned his head away.

Caldan drew open the door and knelt over the master. Simmon reeked. He had soiled himself and lay in his own filth. What could have left him like this?


It’s all right. We can get you out of here.

Simmon laughed, weakly at first, then stronger as it went on. After a few moments it dissipated into a coughing fit. The master levered himself up to a sitting position, blank eyes staring through Caldan.

No,

he croaked.

I don’t want to leave.

Caldan frowned, confused.

I’ve opened the door. We can get you somewhere safe, away from here.

Simmon shook his head.

No. I can’t. I don’t deserve to.


What do you mean?


I should stay here.

From behind Caldan, Miranda spoke. She must have come down the steps when she heard their voices.

Master Simmon,

she said softly, all calm and reason.

What happened to the other masters? You said you knew.

Simmon let out a despairing groan and squeezed his eyes shut.

I…

he gasped.

I couldn’t help it. I didn’t mean to.

He screamed,

I
watched.

Caldan and Miranda exchanged a worried glance. She stepped over to the master, who flinched at her approach, and knelt beside him.


What do you mean?

she asked.

Did they have you bound and force you to watch?

Master Simmon’s breath came in ragged gasps.

Nooo,

he whimpered.

Caldan turned his gaze away; he couldn’t bear to see what this man he respected had become.

Miranda put a hand on Simmon’s shoulder.

But you watched…

She frowned, puzzled.

I don’t understand.

Simmon met her gaze. His eyes were dull and devoid of reason. His tongue flicked over his lips.

They made me do it. I was here.

He punched the side of his head.

But I couldn’t stop myself. I killed them. The masters. Me but not me. I couldn’t stop myself. I had to watch.

He slumped to the floor and curled up into a ball, weeping.

Caldan couldn’t believe what he’d heard. It didn’t make sense. How could Master Simmon kill all the people he respected, worked with, fought for as a Protector? He wiped damp hands on his pants. Part of him thought he’d heard wrong, that Simmon couldn’t have done those things. Then he remembered the body of Jazintha in the circle. Killed by someone much more skilled with the sword and able to overcome a master with potent
craftings
.

Still, it didn’t make sense. Unless… he had been controlled with coercive sorcery. If that were possible. He couldn’t rule anything out.

He looked again at Simmon lying helpless on the dirty stone floor. Broken. His mind shattered. It seemed all too possible. What better way to infiltrate the Protectors than to control one of the masters then use them to dispose of the others when you needed to?

Caldan took Miranda by the arm and pulled her away from Simmon, who she was vainly trying to console. If Simmon had been controlled using sorcery and forced to do horrific acts, then he would take a long time to recover, if he ever did.


Listen to me,

he said harshly, then relented. Miranda’s eyes were moist and filled with fear and distress.

We have to leave. If what he says is true, then all the masters are dead.


But… but why?

whispered Miranda.


I think I know. It’s part of what the Protectors are. Explanations will have to wait.

He ran a hand through his short hair.

We won’t find anyone left that can help us. There’s no one, unless they escaped, in which case they’ll be hiding somewhere in the city. There’s no point searching here any longer.

Miranda nodded her agreement and wiped her eyes.

We free Simmon and get out of here.


Yes.

He examined the manacles around Simmon’s wrists. They had been riveted closed, no lock, as if his captors would have no reason to release him.

I should be able to get them off. The hinge on the other side is the weak point.


Do it,

said Miranda.

Caldan nodded. Crouching over the master he spoke softly to him.

Master Simmon, can you hear me? We’re going to get you out of here. Free you from the chains. Do you think you can walk?

Simmon moaned incoherently then stiffened. His hands covered his face.

I can’t. Leave me here. I deserve it.


We can’t. You will recover. We need to get you out of here.

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