Asunder (7 page)

            Rhys felt his temper rising. The way the man said it, you'd think young mages dying was of no consequence. He tried to maintain his casual demeanor, keep the smile on his face, and not let this man get the better of him. It wasn't easy. "Not screaming like that they don't," he managed through gritted teeth.

            The Lord Seeker ignored him. "How did you hear about the others?"

            "We . . . knew initiates were being brought in, but then we wouldn't see them later as apprentices. The templars told us they'd been transferred to another Circle, but you can always tell when a templar's lying like that. There were too many questions and surprise searches. And then Jolen died."

            The man glanced over at the Knight- Captain. "The fourth one," she said with a nod.

            "Ah," he said. "Yes, I suppose it's unsurprising that the order here wouldn't be able to keep that quiet."

            "And why should you?" Rhys demanded, feeling his anger bubbling up despite his efforts to keep it under control. "If someone's going around killing mages, don't we have a right to know? The templars are supposed to be protecting us! Isn't that part of why we're locked up in here?"

            The Lord Seeker leveled an icy glare at him, and he regretted his outburst instantly. He didn't want to regret it— he wanted to keep on yelling, make these people see just how wrong it was to treat grown mages, mages with
power,
like they were recalcitrant children. In the face of that look, he knew it didn't matter. He was a good judge of character. Given an excuse, this man would slit Rhys's throat before he even got off a single spell. And he would do it with the same cool, unblinking demeanor that he had now.

            The Lord Seeker frowned, drumming his fingers on the desk as if deciding just what sort of response was required. "Protecting you is part of the reason you're in the tower, yes." His tone was suddenly pleasant, which somehow made it all the more frightening. "The other part, of course, is that magic is dangerous. It can be dangerous through no intention of the mage, should a demon take hold of them, but not all mages have good intentions, do they?"

            The question was ominous, and not entirely without merit.

            "Do you know a man by the name of Enchanter Jeannot?" the man asked.

            "Yes, of course. He's a senior enchanter here, as am I."

            "Was, I'm afraid. Last night he attempted to assassinate the Divine, in front of many witnesses, and was slain." The man watched carefully as he allowed that news to sink in.

            Rhys felt cold, as if discovering he was walking on far thinner ice than he'd realized. There was more going on here than just the murders, much more. Jeannot tried to murder the head of the Chantry? How would he even get out of the tower? To do so without help seemed . . . unlikely. Suddenly it made sense why the Knight- Commander was gone, why the First Enchanter acted as he had. "I . . . I see" was all he could manage.

            "He used blood magic during the attempt," the Lord Seeker continued. "Were you aware that Jeannot knew such forbidden arts?"

            "No, not at all."

            "Interesting." The drumming fingers continued, the only sound in the room. Rhys felt a bead of sweat slowly crawling its way down his forehead. It was impossible to keep an entire tower of mages under complete control, not without locking all of them in cells like prisoners. The templars knew that mages snuck around behind their backs and gossiped, and it wasn't unreasonable to think they shared other types of knowledge as well. Where there was one blood mage, there could be more. There could be dozens.

           
They think I know. Or that I am one.

            "There have been six murders in the White Spire to date," the Lord Seeker announced. "Four initiates and two apprentices. What ever other numbers you've heard are speculation. Those six, however . . . they were interesting." He indicated that Evangeline should explain. She seemed unconvinced this was a good idea, but acquiesced.

            "All of them were stabbed in the heart and allowed to bleed out," she began, her tone clinical. "No weapon was discovered. No evidence was found on the victims. As near as we can tell, whoever did this was able to get past the guards, unlock the cells, and leave without being noticed. By anyone."

            A sneaking suspicion wormed its way into Rhys's head. He tried to refuse it, banish it from his mind completely, but it wouldn't go away. With
out being noticed . . . by anyone
. It was all he could do to keep his thoughts from giving him away, and from the way both templars stared at him it seemed he wasn't particularly successful.

            The Lord Seeker leaned forward on the desk, steepling his fingers as he stared intently. "Now, it is
possible
that a templar could do this, and have his fellows cover up the deed. Perhaps a group of them, dedicated to acts of maliciousness against the very people over whom they are supposed to watch. It is deplorable, but has been known to happen."

            "I questioned the templars first," Evangeline explained to Rhys, perhaps a little defensively. "We began alternating guard duties, transferred—"

            "It is also
possible,
" the Lord Seeker interrupted, "that a blood mage could cause a guard to fall asleep or make him forget what ever he witnessed. Such spells of mind control are one of the reasons blood magic is forbidden. Blood spilled from a sacrifice, meanwhile, could be used to power something much, much worse. Something we can't even guess at yet."

            "It could also be a demon," Evangeline offered.

            "If so, then it is a demon powerful enough to influence the mages of this tower." The man shuffled through the pile of parchments until he found one in particular. He tapped it. "It says here that you are a medium, Enchanter."

            Rhys kept his face calm. "Yes."

            "You have a rare talent to detect and communicate with spirits and demons."

            "Yes."

            "Have you ever detected or communicated with any here in the White Spire?"

            Another bead of sweat found its way into Rhys's eye. He wiped it away, hoping his hands weren't visibly shaking. "Yes, but . . . the Veil is thin here. That's part of my research. It should all be accounted for in the First Enchanter's—"

            "I'm aware of your research," the Lord Seeker snapped, his tone carrying heavy disapproval. "I'm also aware it was discontinued almost a year ago, after the rebellion in Kirkwall. Well before the murders began. What about recently?"

            "No, there's been nothing." That much was true, at least.

            "It seems to me that someone with such talent wouldn't allow templars to keep him from doing as he wished. We cannot follow you across the Veil. You could be speaking to demons on a nightly basis, and no one would be the wiser."

            "It's not that simple," Rhys insisted. "Consciously entering the Fade requires preparation, a group of mages working together. My research required painstaking work to protect me from the spirits I was contacting, in case—"

            "In case you were corrupted," the man finished for him.

            "Learning more about spirits is important if we're ever going to protect ourselves from them more effectively. Knight- Commander Eron scrutinized me after every ritual. He trusted me. If he didn't . . ."

            The man neatly replaced the sheet of parchment in the pile. "Knight- Commander Eron's judgment did not assist him in safeguarding his charges, nor in finding a blood mage in his midst."

            Ser Evangeline scowled at that, but Lord Seeker Lambert didn't notice. Rhys frowned, not liking where this was going. Not one bit. "Am I being accused of something?" he asked.

            "Not yet."

            The Knight- Captain cleared her throat, ignoring the warning look she received from the Lord Seeker. She leaned toward Rhys. "I've seen you with Jeannot," she said gently. "Both you and Enchanter Adrian. All three of you are part of the Libertarian fraternity. I think you can see why we're concerned."

            And there it was. Rhys had been wondering when that was going to come up. The fact rankled enough to make him put aside any efforts to contain his anger. "So you think the Libertarians have all become blood mages? We'll do anything to attain freedom for the Circle, even become the very thing that brought about the Circle in the first place?" He sat forward, glaring at both of them in turn. "Let me tell you this: I didn't know Jeannot was a blood mage, nor why he did what he did. We weren't close. If I'd known, I would have told the First Enchanter. It's mages like that who give the fraternity, and us all, a bad name."

            "Then tell us who he was close with."

            Rhys folded his arms. "No."

            The Lord Seeker's eyes widened. "You're refusing to answer?"

            "I am. I won't be a party to persecuting my fraternity. We're the first to blame for everything."

            "Then give us another answer."

            "You're not looking for answers." Rhys stood up, defiant. "This isn't an investigation. Someone tried to kill the Divine, and you're not going to be happy until you can string together a conspiracy that makes sense to you. So what ever you're going to do, I suggest you do it. Lock me in the dungeon. Perhaps I can be the murderer's next victim? That should clear me of suspicion quickly enough."

            There was a long and tense silence, punctuated only by Ser Evangeline's sigh of disappointment. The Lord Seeker was coldly outraged. He rose from his chair and stiffly straightened his breastplate. "That was foolish."

            If the man expected a response, he didn't get one. Rhys remained where he was, and the two of them locked glares. He knew this would probably get him imprisoned. They could leave him in there to rot, or even make him Tranquil— just to be safe. But Rhys no longer cared. A vanished apprentice was one thing, but he was a senior enchanter and a member of the Libertarians. Let them explain that to the rest of the Circle, to Adrian, and see how that worked out for them. Given the mood in the tower that had been building this past year, it wouldn't be pretty.

            "Get out," the Lord Seeker finally growled.

            Ser Evangeline stepped forward and took Rhys by the arm. He fought against being led away, still matching the Lord Seeker's gaze. The man wanted a fight, and Rhys was tempted to give him one. But then he relented and allowed himself to be pulled out of the office, reminding himself that he was getting off easy.

            He did, after all, know more than he'd let on. And they knew that now, too. Walking out of that room, he felt as if a noose had been slipped around his neck, just waiting for the right moment to tighten.

            Adrian's interrogation went no better than his. Far worse, if the extent of her later rage was anything to judge it by. Hours later she was angrily stalking from one end of the commons to the other, ranting to any mage who would listen about the conspiracy they were dealing with.

            The commons weren't really intended as a gathering area. It was a glorified landing outside of the mages' chambers on the middle floors of the tower, allowing access to the central stairwell. There were no furnishings to speak of, just cold stone floors and a few small windows that let the chill in every winter. Statues lined the area at each supporting pillar, grave- looking depictions of warriors from an age long past. Rhys had always hated them. He felt their proud eyes staring down at him, judging him for having the temerity to possess magic.

            But there was nowhere else for the mages to go. Rumors of the Lord Seeker's presence had spread like wildfire, as had word of the attempt on the Divine's life. By the time Adrian and Rhys had walked into the commons it was already packed. Everyone spoke in hushed voices— as if anything above a whisper would invite the wrath of the templars. The smell of raw fear permeated the chamber, but along with it came an undercurrent of anger.

            What if the Lord Seeker invoked the Rite of Annulment? Rhys heard that question asked more than once. The thought of every last mage in the tower being put to the sword was difficult to contemplate. It was a right the templars possessed, meant to be used only as a last act of desperation when a Circle of Magi was completely lost to corruption. That was supposedly what had happened in Kirkwall. If the Rite of Annulment hadn't been invoked since then, it was no doubt because the templars feared further rebellion— but how far could they be pushed?

            According to Adrian, the same question should be asked about the mages. She didn't believe what the Lord Seeker said about Jeannot. How could one man have gotten so close to the Divine? Adrian thought the entire thing suspicious, and suggested it was a templar ploy to turn popular opinion more firmly in their favor.

            Rhys wasn't as certain. There were rumors among the Libertarians of those who were no longer satisfied with peacefully seeking freedom, even more so now that the closure of the College of Enchanters had removed that option entirely. They wanted action, even if it involved dragging the rest of the mages kicking and screaming along with them. Rhys wouldn't put it past such people to perform forbidden rites to give themselves an advantage, not to mention keeping their activities secret even from the rest of their fraternity. The templars had every reason to be nervous.