Bookworm (29 page)

Dread looked mildly surprised. “For what?”

“For caring,” Elaine said. She felt tears stinging her eyes again and wiped them away with a flash of irritation. “No real father could have done better.”

Dread smiled, a smile that touched his eyes and made him look almost human. “Would you like to know,” he enquired dryly, “just how many fathers have used magic on the boys who came courting their daughters? I have seen fathers turn boyfriends into toads, or use compulsion spells to drive them away, or insist that they swear formal oaths before even inviting the girls out to dinner. And I have seen parents who use magic to substitute for raising their kids. Instead of teaching boys and girls to be careful, they use magic to enforce proper behaviour from their children. Every time, it explodes in their faces – badly. But no one ever seems to learn.”

He shook his head. “Magic isn’t a substitute for everything and it certainly doesn’t solve all problems,” he added. “If everyone realised that, instead of looking for quick fixes, the world would be a much happier place.”

***

Every Inquisitor that Elaine had heard of – she’d only met one formally – wore black robes and carried skull rings. But it seemed that a great deal of what she’d known about the Inquisition either wasn’t true, or was incomplete. Inquisitor Cass was a blonde and bubbly girl wearing a long green dress that set off her hair nicely; Inquisitor Karan was short, dumpy and had unkempt red hair that Daria would have enjoyed fixing over an hour or two. But there was no mistaking the skill they showed in working magic, or the sheer power flaring around them when they entered the room. Millicent would not have dared to pick on either of them.

“Hi,” Cass said, with a wink. Her voice was light and airy, so airy that Elaine realised at once that she was overacting. But maybe a male wizard, unable to take his eyes off her chest, wouldn’t realise that he was babbling out all his secrets to a chit of a girl. “I understand that we have to look after you?”

“Yes,” Elaine said, flatly. Cass managed to make her feel dowdy, even unintentionally. It wouldn’t have bothered her before Daria had finally kicked her into trying to start a proper romance. She was certainly
not
going to allow Cass to escort her on the next date. “How much has he told you?”

“Only that we’re not to allow you to be taken by anyone,” Karan informed her. She was subdued, almost submissive. Elaine started to look for a collar before realising that it was just as much an act as Cass’s blonde bimbo pretence. “And that we should be careful about where we let you go.”

It was possible, Elaine decided, that Dread had
also
told them that Elaine was not to be taken alive, even if they had to kill her themselves. It wouldn’t be difficult; even without wands, either of them was more than a match for Elaine herself. The spell which had surprised Millicent probably wouldn’t work on a sorceress who had spent most of her adult life matching herself against the best in the business. She wanted to be angry at the Inquisitor for his action, if he
had
issued such orders, but it was hard to blame him. Anyone who had a clear idea of the horrors unleashed by the necromancers would do anything to prevent them from being unleashed again. The last war had nearly destroyed the entire world.

“Sounds about right,” she said, mildly. She wondered if she should confirm that they should follow Dread’s orders, if there were such orders, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud. “Shall we go?”

Seen from the North Peak, the Golden City seemed to glow with light. Where Ida had been drab and grey, and Castle Adamant a brooding monstrosity on the hill, the Golden City was alive. She had never really understood it before, but the Golden City was the best and worst of the Empire gathered in one place. The styles and techniques developed by thousands of different civilisations had been fused into one, while people from all over the world travelled to see the Golden City, each one adding a little more diversity to the most diverse city in the world. There were even people who believed that the streets were paved with gold.

But not all of it was kind, she knew. Some came to the city, fell into poverty and never managed to climb out. Different cultures rubbed each other the wrong way; different priests used their daily sermons to call down hellfire on their rivals. From High Tory to Low Town – and the Blight – the city was the empire in miniature. Powerful men and women, some aristocratic and some magical, ruling over thousands of small states. And the Blight, perhaps, serving as a counterpart to the necromantic wars...or the dead lands where the Witch-King had made his final bid for power. Nothing would grow there for thousands of years, unless some of the undead mutated into forms that could survive the waves of wild magic washing across the continent. It wasn’t a comforting thought. The one thing everyone knew about wild magic was that it couldn’t be controlled – and that its effects were effectively random.

She allowed Cass to precede her down the road leading into the city. Unlike Ida, the Golden City didn’t bother with a road that was part of its defence line, although if a hostile power gained control of the mountains the Golden City would be forced to surrender anyway. But who would dare attack the Grand Sorcerer? Just for a moment, she wondered just how far the Prince’s plans actually went. Had he forged links with the states closer to the Golden City, convincing them to send their armies to attack? It didn’t seem likely, if only because the preparations would be noticed...wouldn’t they? But if there had already been one catastrophic intelligence failure, why couldn’t there have been a second? Or a third...?

The sights and sounds of the Golden City were music to her ears after the dour city of Ida. Street vendors competed savagely with each other in advertising their food, drink and souvenirs of the city. A pair of candidates for the City Council were engaged in a political debate, egged on by the crowd who had brought rotten vegetables to throw at candidates they didn’t like. Half the city didn’t have the property, money or magical qualifications to vote, which didn’t stop them enjoying the debates and the chance to throw stuff at their social superiors. The City Guard knew better than to intervene unless people started throwing objects – or magic – that could cause real harm.

A witch operating a stall was offering curses, potions and charms for anyone’s requirement. Selling curses wasn’t technically illegal, but it did tend to draw the Inquisition’s attention on the grounds that it represented a misuse of magic. Elaine suspected, even without drawing on the knowledge in her head, that the witch wasn’t really offering anything more than placebos. A person without proper magical training was unlikely to realise that the curses didn’t work, or only worked briefly; the witch probably claimed that they caused ill-luck rather than something specific. The love potions might be real, or they might be something intended to push someone into growing the confidence to ask their intended victim out. They didn’t
not
work, one of her tutors had once explained, but they weren’t really magic. The distinction was lost on the uninitiated.

“And I tell you that the proper place for a woman is on her knees,” a voice boomed. There was magic in it, not compulsion spells but magic intended to convince the listener to keep listening. No one threw rotten fruit or eggs at the speaker. “She should remain silent, forever faithful and obedient to her man, silently serving him as is her natural role...”

Elaine rolled her eyes, noting without surprise just how much of the crowd was male. Vlad Deferens was in his late thirties, with unkempt black hair and a scruffy long beard. He wore a bright red tunic and kilt – the nasty part of Elaine’s mind wondered what, if anything, he wore under his kilt – and carried a faintly disturbing staff in one hand. The tip of the staff looked alarmingly like a very important male organ. It was clear that Deferens used it to do all of his thinking.

“And as Grand Sorcerer, I will see to it that women return to their natural place,” Deferens thundered. “I will make collars freely available to every man who wishes to control his wife, to encourage her to be submissive and obedient...”

Elaine stared at him, feeling outrage growing in her breast. She had never been a wife, but she’d seen enough of married life to know that men were just as responsible for marital problems as women. And women invariably got the worst of it, even in the most cosmopolitan cities. They could be beaten by their husbands, forced to obey his every whim...magic provided some freedom, for sorceresses, but not for those who were only mundane.

“He’s been doing this all week,” Cass muttered. The female Inquisitor sounded just as disgusted as Elaine felt.
She
was one of the most powerful magicians, male or female, in the world. Deferens would have her abandon all that to become little more than chattel. “I don’t even know how seriously he takes the contest to become Grand Sorcerer if this is the sort of shit he excretes at every opportunity.”

A spell danced through Elaine’s mind and she triggered it before she had a chance to reflect on what it actually did. There was a brief pause when she thought it did nothing, before a gust of wind blew across the stage and flicked Deferens’ kilt up, exposing him to the world. The crowd burst into laughter; Deferens looked to be very small, although Elaine had nothing to compare it to. Grand Sorcerer candidate or not, Deferens would find it very hard to live that down.

Cass gripped her wrist and dragged her away before she could do anything else. Behind her, she heard the sound of rotten fruit being thrown at a target. Who knew what would happen now? Maybe Deferens would do something so stupid that he’d be put out of the running.

And if
that
happened, she realised, Prince Hilarion’s chances of victory became that much higher.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Her apartment almost felt unfamiliar to her as she entered, after trying to convince her bodyguards to wait outside. They refused to listen to her and insisted on searching the apartment before allowing her to go inside. Elaine heard enough of the
discussion
between Cass and Daria to know that her friend wasn’t happy about the sudden intrusion – and completely mystified. It was another thing for Elaine to regret, she realised, and to feel guilty over. Daria’s life had been turned upside down just because she had been friendly to an almost-friendless girl.

Daria didn’t look different physically, but she seemed younger to Elaine’s eyes. Or maybe Elaine had grown up. Had she ever been a mature adult since she’d left the Peerless School, or had she merely been marking time and pretending that she was still a teenager? But then her teenage years hadn’t been anything interesting, really. She’d sometimes believed that she’d been born old.

“Well,” Daria said, finally. “Who was that...blonde
person
in our apartment?”

“It’s a long story,” Elaine admitted. She couldn’t blame Daria for being a little irritated. Her friend had always been a deeply private person, despite the number of boys she had invited to enter her. As a werewolf, she’d known what it was like to be hunted; the Peerless School would have expelled her if enough of the important parents had complained. Werewolves were not trusted in human society. “I...I want to tell you, but it could put you in very real danger.”

“You’ve been with the Inquisitor,” Daria said. At one point, her deduction would have surprised Elaine. Now, she knew that the werewolf had smelled Dread’s scent on her. And everyone else’s, for that matter. “I assume that your trip to Ida didn’t go precisely as planned?”

Elaine flushed. It hadn’t really been planned at all, something that – in hindsight – should have warned her that she wasn’t entirely acting under her own volition. She’d been luckier than she wanted to admit. If she hadn’t encountered Dread, she would have been broken and then killed in the torture chamber below Castle Adamant. And as it was, she’d managed to meet her own obligations under the Mage’s Oath. The Inquisition now knew about a dreadful threat to the entire Empire.

“It didn’t,” she said. “Daria...I love you, but this could put you in danger. If you want to leave, I will understand...”

Daria shook her head, tossing her long mane of hair. “I think you know me better than that,” she said. She
knew
that Elaine wasn’t exaggerating. It was easy to control one’s voice to lie, but a great deal harder to control one’s scent. “When have I ever backed down from a fight?”

“Never,” Elaine agreed. “Just listen, please.”

She started with the entire story, running through it from beginning to end, and then detailed what they’d discovered in Ida. Daria listened silently, her nose flaring slightly; in hindsight, it was easy to see a distinctly canine aspect to her features. Her big eyes were remarkably like a dog’s eyes. No wonder Millicent had laughed so much when she’d hinted at Daria’s secret. Elaine had missed something right under her own nose.

“Sounds like you’re in trouble,” Daria said. She shrugged as she picked up the latest collection of pamphlets from the touts – and supporters of the various candidates. “I can see why the Prince would want to cheat. He has exactly
five
supporters – and one of them is Lord Melchett, so he doesn’t count.”

Elaine snorted. Lord Melchett had been the heir to a distinguished family...until he’d been caught engaging in a practice that made incest and necrophilia look forgivable. His family had disowned him, his friends had melted away and he’d started drinking himself to death. What he’d done wasn’t exactly
illegal
, but High Society had passed judgement on him and treated him as a pariah. Elaine had little patience for Millicent and the rest of the aristocrats, yet for once it was easy to take their side. Lord Melchett was a disgrace to the entire society of inbred morons.

She took one of the sheets of paper and skimmed through it. Prince Hilarion’s allies were few and far between; an aristocrat who was known for dabbling in magic, a pair of tradesmen who wanted a powerful political patron – and no one was higher than the Grand Sorcerer – and an aristocrat who had lost a suit against his peers that had been judged by the previous Grand Sorcerer personally. Elaine guessed that
he
hoped that the new Grand Sorcerer would reverse the ruling. But all of them had good reason for gambling on a long shot.