Bookworm III (25 page)

“Johan?” Jolie asked, nervously. “What are
you
doing here?”

Johan grunted. “What are
you
doing here? You should be at school.”

“Charity brought us home to help with the repairs,” Jolie said. “You made quite a mess of the house.”

“I wanted to burn it down,” Johan said. “What happened to the servants?”

“They fled,” Jolie said. “And Charity hasn’t come home. And we’re starving ...”

“Charity has other problems,” Johan said, flatly. Naturally, there had been no suggestion that the magical children could learn to cook. His father had had servants to do the hard work of actually keeping everyone fed. “Go back to your rooms and stay there.”

“They do need to be fed,” Daria said, quietly.

“I know,” Johan muttered. He cursed his siblings under his breath. Why couldn’t they have stayed at the Peerless School? It was unlikely they’d be harmed by the Emperor, not when Charity was already his devoted slave. The Great Houses would never stand for it. “And now I don’t know if we can stay here after all.”

“Take me to the kitchens,” Cass ordered, firmly. “We’ll see what there is in the way of food.”

“Of course,” Johan said. He opened the door to the visitor’s room, then peered inside. It hadn’t been touched when he’d smashed his way into the house, he decided, because hardly anything had been moved from where his father had put it. “Elaine and Daria can wait here for us. Don’t let the kids bully you into doing anything.”

Elaine gave him a sharp look. “Are they that bad?”

“They’re little monsters,” Johan said. “Maybe not as bad as Jamal, but still pretty awful.”

“They’re kids,” Daria protested.

“They’re kids who were allowed – nay, encouraged – to pick on the powerless from the moment they could wield a wand,” Johan snapped. “I don’t think a term or two at the Peerless School will have cured them of that ... bad habit.”

He turned and marched out of the room, through a long corridor and down a flight of stairs into the servants rooms. Jamal had once thought it a great joke, he recalled sourly, to turn Johan into something immobile and leave him in their rooms, just because he thought a Powerless would never amount to anything more than a servant. His father had not been amused, but he had never properly punished Jamal. The older boy had been the apple of his father’s eye.

Cass followed him, her footsteps so quiet that Johan could barely hear them. He hardly heeded her as he stepped through the door and into the kitchen, then looked around. The servants had clearly fled in a hurry; they’d left a colossal mess behind them. Johan sighed to himself, then peered into the preservation chamber. Thankfully, the spells keeping the food fresh had remained intact.

“Get the bread from the breadbox,” he ordered, as he pulled a large chunk of cheese out of the chamber. “I’ll make them bloody cheese sandwiches. There’s no time to make anything more complex.”

“Understood,” Cass said. If she picked up on his innermost thoughts – that he didn’t want to waste effort making anything better than sandwiches for the brats – she didn’t comment on it. “I can boil some water too, if you would like.”

“They’ll turn their noses up at adult drinks,” Johan said. “Pour them each a glass of water, then place the glasses on a tray.”

He finished slicing the bread and cheese, then rapidly prepared the sandwiches as Cass poured water into glasses. “I’ll take half of these for us,” he said, “and take the other half up to the brats. You can carry the water.”

“I could,” Cass agreed, dryly. “You don’t want to help them, do you?”

Johan turned to face her. “Do you have siblings?”

“Not any longer,” Cass said. “Inquisitors tend to snap family ties once they don the skull rings. If anyone stays in touch with their families, they don’t make a big issue of it.”

“My siblings were my tormenters,” Johan said. “I ... I find it hard to forgive them, even after the family has been shattered.”

He shook his head. It was wrong to hate his younger siblings – Chime was only eleven years old – but the memories kept tormenting him. All of them had developed magic at a very young age, save for Johan himself, and they hadn’t hesitated to use it. Their father had cooed over their success at mastering complex charms and ignored the fact that they’d tended to test those spells on Johan. And Johan knew, even if his father had chosen to forget it, that so much magic used on a single person could have disastrous long-term effects. His father might have quietly hoped, even if he had been unwilling to admit it to himself, that Johan would expire before he should have attended the Peerless School. It would have hidden the fact his family had produced a Powerless.

Picking up the tray, he marched back up the stairs and gave Elaine and Daria some sandwiches, then walked up a second flight, up to the floor put aside for the younger children. The three girls seemed to have gathered in Jolie’s room, having dragged blankets and stuffed toys in from their own room. Johan shivered, remembering hours of torment, then put the tray of food down on the desk. The three girls were so hungry that they didn’t even bother to complain about the food before tucking in.

Jolie looked up at him, between taking bites out of her sandwich. “What are we going to do now?”

“You ...
children
are going to wait here,” Johan said, firmly. “We will decide what to do and then we will
tell
you what to do.”

Chime’s hand twitched towards her wand, then stopped. Johan wondered, absently, just what Charity had told the younger children about what had happened to the family. Might she have told them the truth, that Johan had ripped the magic from their father and their elder brother, or had she told them a comforting lie. Jamal would have told them the truth, he was sure, and laughed at their horror, but Charity was made from different stuff.

Turning, he walked out of the room, closing the door behind them, then looked towards his old room. The door had been closed and warded, judging by the rune someone had carved into the wood, but he knew he could open it, if he wished. But there was nothing in the room that he wanted, nothing apart from bad memories. Beyond it, Jamal’s room lay open, as if someone had gone inside and ransacked the place. Curious, Johan stepped up to the door and peered inside. Jamal had always been a bit of a clotheshorse – he’d purchased hundreds of outfits every year – but now half of them were scattered on the floor, while a dozen books on magic lay on the bed. And a mirror that Johan knew had been hanging from the wall lay on the ground, in pieces.

“Someone wanted to leave in a hurry,” Cass said, following him into the room. “The signs are quite obvious, if you know where to look.”

Johan shrugged. Jamal had had to leave the city in a hurry before his enemies caught up with him and took revenge for years of slights, bullying and worse. Charity would probably have lived up to her name and allowed him to take some of his possessions with him .... Johan looked around, trying to decide what Jamal had taken, but couldn’t tell what was missing. A few sets of clothes would have brought in some cash, if he’d sold them to his former cronies ...

“Let the bastard rot,” he said. He picked up the books from the bed – Elaine would want a look at them, if nothing else – and led the way back out of the room. “I don’t want to see him again, ever.”

“You will probably get your wish,” Cass said. The former Inquisitor closed the door behind her, then followed him down the stairs. “I doubt he will show his face again.”

Johan nodded as he stepped into the visiting room and placed the books on the table. Elaine was sitting on the sofa, looking tired and utterly out of place in the room’s splendour. Daria was back in wolf form, curled up on the armchair and snoring loudly. Johan had to struggle to conceal his amusement at the sight, knowing precisely what his father would have said if he’d seen a werewolf sleeping on his chair. There had been no tolerance for mess – or dog hairs – anywhere his guests might have noticed.

“We left you some of the sandwiches,” Elaine said. She met his eyes. “Are you all right?”

“I think so,” Johan said. “Is it my fault that I feel unenthusiastic about helping the little brats?”

“I never had siblings,” Elaine said, “so I won’t pretend to be able to understand what you’re feeling right now. But I do know that they’re kids, unable to fend for themselves ...”

“They should have grown up with the Travellers,” Johan said. “I don’t think they could even make sandwiches for themselves.”

He shook his head. “I assumed they would be at the Peerless School,” he added. “But if they’re here, Charity might come home at any moment.”

“Then we grab her,” Cass said, sitting down in one of the comfortable chairs. “Can you alter the wards enough to catch her when she arrives?”

Johan shook his head. “My power doesn’t work like that,” he said. “I can’t reprogram the wards.”

Elaine cleared her throat, loudly. “Their upbringing certainly lacked ...
something
,” she said, tartly. “I don’t blame you for wanting nothing to do with them. But do you really want to be the bully now?”

“What would you do,” Johan asked, “if one of your tormentors from the orphanage suddenly fell into your power?”

“I like to think I wouldn’t take revenge,” Elaine said. Her face reddened. “Although I might have accidentally on purpose turned one of my old tormentors into a statue.”

“I heard,” Cass said.

“So what do we do with them?” Johan asked. “I don’t know how to care for them for more than a few days. There wasn’t
that
much food in the kitchen.”

“So we go buy more,” Cass said, practically. “The kids might be able to do that for us. Or maybe they will come in handy for something.”

Elaine shrugged. “Until then, Johan,” she said, “you and I need to meditate. Is there a private room we can use?”

“No shortage of them,” Johan muttered. He took a swift drink of water, then stepped over to the door. “I can’t guarantee that the wards will let us know when someone arrives.”

“I’ll add a few of my own,” Cass said. “Good luck.”

Johan sighed, then led the way down the corridor and into his father’s outer study. His father had hosted private meetings there, with his most trusted allies. But there were no family secrets within view, nothing that might end up being used against him. The walls were lined with bookshelves, but none of them were anything special. Johan had still been forbidden to read them, back when everyone had thought he was Powerless.

“Not a pleasant room,” Elaine commented.

“My father liked to create an impression,” Johan said. There was something cold and sterile about the study, nothing like the reading rooms in the Great Library. “And he didn’t like wasting time in boring meetings.”

He pushed the chairs to one side, then sat down cross-legged on the floor. Elaine sat facing him, her brown eyes worried. Johan silently marvelled at the skill she’d shown in crafting her glamour; her eyes might not show the right colour, but they showed her emotions perfectly. Charity had never been able to manage anything so creditable.

“I know coming here wasn’t easy for you,” Elaine said, as she took his hand. “And I thank you for the courage you have shown.”

“You’re the one who broke an unbreakable spell,” Johan said, softly. Elaine’s hand felt warm against his bare skin. “All I did was break a few wards.”

“I’m proud of you,” Elaine said.

Johan felt a sudden rush of pride. He would have loved his father to say that, just once, and actually
mean
it. But his father had seen him as an embarrassment ... he looked up at Elaine and smiled at her, then looked down at the carpeted floor. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he couldn’t find the words.

“Thank you,” he said, finally.

“You’re welcome,” Elaine said. “Now, we actually did manage to make a connection in the Imperial Palace.”

Johan nodded. Skin-to-skin, the sense of her presence was much stronger.

“I want to concentrate on trying to open the connection on our own,” Elaine said, as she met his eyes again. “So concentrate, right here and now, on me.”

Johan closed his eyes and tried, hard, to focus his mind. Elaine was right in front of him, her presence seemingly split between the girl before him and her presence at the back of his mind. He took a deep breath, then another, trying to reach out to her. But the awareness of her existence didn’t grow any stronger.

“It’s not working,” he said, frustrated. “Why isn’t it working?”

“I don’t know,” Elaine said. “And that’s what bothers me.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Charity had always hated having to face her father with bad news. Sometimes, he took it gently and merely lectured her on her failings; sometimes, he went through the roof and shouted at her for hours. Facing the Administrator of the Peerless School had been easier, but she had a feeling that facing the Emperor would be much harder. He could order her beheaded on a whim ... or even order her to cut off her own head, if he felt like it. But there was no way she could hide the truth from him.

She stepped into the Throne Room, followed by Vane, and prostrated herself in front of the Golden Throne. The Emperor was talking to two of his military officers, speaking in a language she didn’t understand; he spared her a glance, then ignored her. Charity felt her muscles aching after several minutes in full prostration, but she knew better than to try to stand up. The protocol for facing the Emperor had been firmly drummed into her mind.

Beside her, Vane shifted uncomfortably. She was a scion of the Great Houses, like Charity herself, and she wouldn’t be used to anything other than curtseys. Charity hoped she would have the sense to remain prostrate, no matter how uncomfortable or humiliating it was; the last thing either of them wanted, right now, was to upset the Emperor. Thankfully, Vane stayed quiet until the Emperor dismissed his officials and turned his attention to the newcomers.

“Rise,” he ordered. “What news do you bring?”

Charity swallowed, nervously. “The Great Library has been largely opened, Your Majesty,” she said, carefully. “But the fugitives are gone.”