Blood of Innocents (Book Two of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) (54 page)

The woman, Lady Adelfine, said she would be going soon, as the hour was getting late. Caldan realized the improper hint behind her words. He’d come a long way from the young man who’d arrived in Anasoma unprepared and unworldly. Such a short time ago, and yet it felt like years had passed.

Caldan’s thoughts turned to Miranda and the Loretta, where he’d first met her, and he politely let Lady Adelfine know he’d be staying a while to play Dominion.

She smiled, disappointed, but left without another word.

Looking around the smoke-filled air of the inn, he felt disappointed he’d actually be leaving soon as well. With a few questions to the Protectors, he’d found the close by establishment, and there’d been a kind of peace in playing Dominion again, even if it was to replenish his lack of ducats. The familiar boards and pieces, their feel in his hands, the friendly banter over games, and the mental challenge brought him back to his time at the monastery, when everything had seemed so simple. For a while, he’d forgotten about Anasoma, Bells, and, he was ashamed to say, Miranda and Elpidia.

He added his recently acquired ducats to the others in his purse and judged they’d last for quite some time. Side wagers on his first two games had netted him some coin, but after that, no one was interested in betting against him. He’d lost himself in the joy of playing and trounced his first two opponents ruthlessly. In truth, the only reason Adelfine had agreed to play him had been her ulterior motives.

Caldan left and made his way back to the Protectors’. One of the apprentices was caring for Miranda, but he didn’t like to leave her alone for too long. Not with Joachim still around, and not after what had happened to Elpidia.

Nowhere was safe for him, or for Miranda, now. Defenseless as she was, she might become a pawn in Joachim’s plans to manipulate him; and if Bells was true to her word, she wouldn’t be satisfied until she’d killed them.

All the more reason to take the risks he had. Somehow, his thoughts didn’t comfort him. His actions might have turned him forever from the Protectors. Even if he wasn’t caught, he’d know he was damned in their eyes, one of the sorcerers who’d decided to use forbidden sorcery for their own ends. A rogue. The kind of sorcerer who’d caused the Shattering with meddling and lust for power.

Caldan shook his head. No, not him. What he did was for Miranda, not his own benefit. He doubted the Protectors would see it that way. Whatever chance he’d had at a normal life and doing what he loved,
crafting
, had disappeared like smoke in the wind the moment the the monks gave him the bone
trinket
.

He passed through the gates into the Protectors’ compound deep in thought and was soon back in Miranda’s room. She was asleep, for which he was grateful, and he thanked the apprentice for her help, dismissing her for the night. He wasn’t comfortable looking after all of Miranda’s needs, but the apprentice would be back in the morning to look after her.

He locked the door, opened his satchel, and removed the books on coercive sorcery he’d taken from the library, along with the copies he’d paid for and picked up earlier in the day. He’d been reluctant to leave them in the room, but there wasn’t anywhere he could hide them. He planned on returning the originals asoon as he was done with them.

He took out a crafted sorcerous globe and sat in a chair, his copied books in his lap. It was a few hours until early morning, so he might as well make use of the time. Opening a book, he began to read, wishing the originals were already back in the library. The sooner they were returned, the better.

•

Hours later, he removed his shirt and pants and donned the black clothes he’d made use of the other night. With a final check on Miranda, he slipped outside, two books tucked under one arm.

The hallway was quiet and dark, as it had been when he’d borrowed the books. Rapidly, his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, and the hallway became brighter. If what Joachim said was true, there were
trinket
s and
crafting
s that would allow him limited control of his abilities. Anyone who is Touched, and who has
trinket
s to grant him control over his abilities, could become a formidable warrior, or even an assassin. No wonder the emperor made use of them when he could.

Caldan advanced into the darkness, stepping quietly from one shadow to the next. Light shone around a number of doorways, but no one was aware of his passing. Soon he found himself outside the masters’ library.

Eager to be done, and not wanting to drag out his task any longer, he decided to dispense with the paper lion he’d used last time. Quickly, yet purposefully, he crafted the door unlocked and entered the library, moving to the other side and accessing his well. He split it into five strings, and the second lock sprang open. It was much easier this time; the strings still squirmed in his mind’s grasp, but he was more practiced at holding and controlling them.

Inside, he again used a chalk
crafting
to unlock the chest, and replaced the books. He wiped away the chalk when he was done, then backed away, fighting the urge to take yet another book on coercive sorcery. He’d risked enough already to get this far. It was best to stop while he was ahead.

He closed the door and used the five strings from his well to snap the lock into place.
Almost done.
Sighing with relief, he turned, and the room exploded into light.

Caldan winced, shielding his eyes from the brightness, blinking until his pupils adjusted. Dread filled his gut, and he clenched his teeth against bile rising in his throat. The light could only mean one thing.

He raised his head to see Master Annelie flanked by two armed and armored Protectors, who both pointed crafted swords at him. Annelie carried a sheathed sword, with one hand on its plain, battered hilt. Caldan frowned, sure it was the sword Simmon had hidden and he’d brought to Riversedge from Anasoma. So… she knew what the
trinket
’s function was, and how to use it. Otherwise, why carry it with her to capture him? He doubted she had the strength to wield it as a blade due to its weight, so he guessed that wasn’t its primary purpose.

She looked at him, disappointed, yet curious. He automatically flicked his gaze around the room, searching for a way out. One of the masters must have realized the books were missing almost straight away, and they’d laid a trap for the thief in case they returned.

“I was expecting Joachim,” said Annelie. “Poking his nose into where it wasn’t wanted. You… I admit to being surprised. An apprentice couldn’t have crafted those locks open, or a journeyman.”

Caldan spread his hands. “I can explain…”

“Oh, I’m sure you have an explanation. Whether it convinces either me or the other masters is another matter entirely. And to be honest, there isn’t any reason I can think of that would persuade me not to deal with you harshly. What you’ve done is unforgivable.”

Caldan hung his head in shame and disappointment that he’d failed Miranda. “I did it for her,” he whispered. “For Miranda. Joachim… He’s hiding something, and claims he can’t cure her, but… I know he can. He’s lying.”

Annelie sniffed. “We’ve plenty of time to get to the bottom of this, but for now, you’re coming with me.”

The two Protectors secured Caldan’s arms, and Annelie admonished them to make as little noise as possible. She obviously didn’t want everyone knowing what had happened.

Caldan frowned as he realized they’d not searched him for
crafting
s, then reeled in shock. He couldn’t access his well. It was as if a smooth barrier had been placed between him and his power.

“That’s right,” said Annelie, as she saw his expression. “There’s more than one way to take down a rogue sorcerer.”

“I’m not a rogue.”

“That’s pretty much what they all say. They all have reasons, justifications, but the Shattering cannot be allowed to happen again. All reasons pale before that fact.”

Caldan couldn’t refute her words. She was right, he knew. But… he wasn’t a rogue; he wasn’t like Bells and the Indryallans. The Protectors used destructive sorcery to combat rogues, so it did have justifiable uses. And they must use coercive sorcery as well, if the books he’d found were anything to go by. And Joachim hinted the warlocks knew far more than the Protectors. It seemed, in the empire, the knowledge of coercive sorcery was tightly held by those in power, with the Protectors used, unwittingly, to keep their position secure from others who might be a threat to their closely guarded secrets.

He remained silent as they marched him along the hallway and down a narrow, out of the way, staircase. Then, to his surprise, he was bundled into the back of an uncovered wagon and tied securely with rope. Within short order, they were rolling through the dark streets of Riversedge to a place unknown, one Protector driving the wagon, the other in the back with Caldan and Annelie.

Caldan turned to the master. “Can you make sure Miranda is cared for? She’s unsettled if someone she doesn’t know is around her, and with Elpidia dead and me… well, if the same apprentice could take care of her, I’d appreciate it.”

Annelie gazed at him, face hard for a moment, before turning to pity. “We can’t look after her forever, but until we find somewhere for her, I’ll do what I can. She’s an innocent in all this, after all.”

“Thank you,” said Caldan. “So, where are you taking me? And why is it away from the Protectors’ headquarters?”

“To a safe place. One you won’t disappear from.”

“Joachim. You don’t trust him.”

“Keep your musings to yourself. You’ve no idea what’s going on, and it would be best if you stopped talking. I need time to think.”

Annelie turned away from him and kept her gaze on the buildings rolling past. She cradled the
trinket
sword in her arms.

Could the
trinket
be the reason he was cut off from his well? She’d said she was expecting Joachim and would have been prepared to capture a sorcerer of his caliber. Without access to his well, he couldn’t tell if she was linked to the sword in any way, but it stood to reason that it was the cause of his blockage. It wouldn’t make sense to bring it along if the blockage was caused by another
crafting
.

“Joachim will look for me,” said Caldan. “He won’t rest until I’ve been found.”

Annelie remained quiet, and Caldan decided to do the same. There was no point annoying her, as his fate might very well hinge on her attitude toward him. He didn’t doubt his punishment would be severe, but she knew his concern for Miranda was what had driven him to break into the library, and surely that counted for something.

The wagon trundled along paved streets in a westerly direction. Caldan didn’t know his way around the city, but he thought the buildings were becoming less rundown, more maintained, which meant they were entering a prosperous district. They must have owned a few buildings spread out around Riversedge, probably where other Protectors were based, or even secret locations only masters knew about. He would wager at least a few had rooms able to contain a rogue sorcerer, and it was to one of these they were taking him.

There was a whistling sound and a thud, then another. The Protector driving the wagon keeled over and fell to the cobbles. An arrow stuck out from his chest, having penetrated clean through his crafted armor.

Caldan looked to the other Protector, who’d half-stood and was clutching at his side, where another arrow protruded. As Annelie looked at the dead Protectors in horror, he flung himself to the wagon bed.

Annelie uttered a shriek as a shield surrounded her. An instant later, she was hit by arrows from all sides. Her shield exploded with violet motes of light, so many they almost obscured her form inside. Every arrow failed to penetrate her shield and glanced off or dropped to the ground.

But something was wrong. A high-pitched whine reached Caldan’s ears as her shield
crafting
strained under the assault. An anomaly. A few arrows shouldn’t have strained a master’s shield that much.

Annelie flinched under another barrage of arrows, and Caldan ducked his head as they buzzed around him. A few dropped to the wagon bed, and he was shocked to see they were crafted. Black ink runes were scribed along the shafts, and the steel heads were etched with the same.

Annelie’s shield
crafting
screeched in a fever pitch of protest as it approached overload.

Caldan clawed at the blockage to his well, again in vain, mind slipping over a mirror-smooth surface. “Annelie, free me!” he shouted.

She ignored him. More arrows slammed into her shield, each one hitting with a spark and emitting more motes of light. Annelie uttered a choking sob as her shield popped out of existence. Caldan realized she must have broken the link for fear another strike would push her
crafting
over the edge and they would all be killed by the sudden release of energy.

She stood still, gasping for breath. Shadows moved atop the buildings around them.

“What do you want?” she screamed. “Who are you?”

An arrow struck her left eye, and her head jerked back from the impact. She slumped to the floor of the wagon, blood trickling down her head onto the wood. Caldan turned his gaze from the gruesome sight. Subdued, elated whispers reached his ears.

He reached for his well, only to find it remained blocked. The
trinket
sword was still in Annelie’s grasp. He needed to break its contact with her skin, but his hands were still bound behind his back.

As a rush of footsteps approached, Caldan wriggled toward Annelie. He lashed out at the
trinket
with a foot, missing. The second time, he connected with the sword, and it tumbled from her dead fingers.

Caldan opened his well as a shadowy figure climbed the side of the wagon and loomed above him. He reached to link with Bells’ shield
crafting
. The last thing he saw was a blur of movement as something dark crashed down toward his head.

•

Caldan woke, terrified but alive. Light streamed over him from an un-shuttered window, and he blinked, turning away from the brightness. His head ached, and his mouth was dry. Wherever he was smelled of dust overlaid with an astringent alchemical scent.