Bookworm III (26 page)

“They made their escape,” the Emperor said. “And do you know
where
they have gone?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Charity said.

“Of course not,” the Emperor said. “But you do have control of the Great Library?”

“We do not have control of the wards,” Vane said, too quickly for Charity to try to stop her. “I cannot take full control without the Head Librarian.”

The Emperor glowered down at her. “But you can get into the library?”

“I can get into the public levels, yes,” Vane said. “But I can’t open the Black Vault.”

Charity shivered as the Emperor’s eyes blazed with a sudden fury. His face shifted so rapidly that, for a moment, she thought she saw someone else looking out through his eyes. And then his face returned to normal, his dark eyes boring into her very soul. For once, he wasn’t smiling or smirking at her.

“You can’t open the Black Vault,” he said. He turned his gaze to Vane, who froze like a thief caught in a capture ward. “Why not?”

“The wards are still sealed, Your Majesty,” Vane stammered. “I ... the Black Vault is a pocket dimension, wrapped within the protective wards. It can’t be opened without the Head Librarian’s presence. She didn’t have time to pass the wards to me before she ... ah, was taken from the library.”

Charity felt a flicker of amusement, which she rapidly suppressed. If the Head Librarian’s arrest had been delayed, even by as a little as ten minutes, the wards would have been passed to her successor and there would have been no hope of escape. Instead, the arrest had – perversely – allowed the Head Librarian to not only escape, but impede the Emperor’s long-term plans. It would take years, she’d been told, for the wardcrafters to break through the protective wards without accidentally destroying everything in the vault. No one had ever managed to
steal
from the Black Vault.

“Then we must find her,” the Emperor snarled.

“If I may,” Vane said, “the Grand Sorceress might also be able to open the ...”

Her words trailed off as the Emperor glowered down at her. “The Grand Sorceress is no longer available,” he hissed. “And you will be punished for your failure.”

Vane stared at him. “But I ...”

“Silence,” the Emperor said. He must have sent a command through the wards, for a pair of guards stepped through one of the side doors without warning. “You will be taken to the kitchens, where you will spend the next few hours washing up. Manually.”

He snickered at the horrified expression on Vane’s face. Scions of Great Houses did
not
do anything as menial as washing up. There were servants – or spells – to do it for them. It wasn’t a bad punishment, not compared to some of the rumours Charity had heard while she’d been a student, but it would be humiliating. Charity just hoped she had the sense to keep her mouth shut and do as she was told. The punishment could easily be a great deal worse.

The guards caught Vane’s arms and escorted her out the door, which closed behind them with a solid thud. Charity half-wished she was going with them too; it would have been humiliating to have to work with the servants, but at least she would have been away from the Emperor. The moment when she thought she’d seen someone else behind his eyes ...

“You are surprised, of course,” the Emperor said.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Charity said. There was no point in trying to deny it. “She was not to blame for the failure.”

“The punishment was quite mild,” the Emperor said. “Or do you think it should have been worse?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Charity said.

She grimaced at the thought. She’d heard students – mainly boys – claiming that their parents had punished them in all kinds of ways, but most of them had to be exaggerated. There was no way anyone would survive some of the punishments, even with magical healing. And yet ... she went cold when she remembered just how much her father had allowed her siblings to torment Johan. Perhaps the students hadn’t been exaggerating after all.

“So,” the Emperor said. “Where do you think they’re hiding?”

Charity considered it. She’d never actually had to hide herself, not outside playing hide and seek at the Peerless School. The thought of being on the run, cut off from friends and family, was more than a little disquieting. But if she had to hide ...

“Somewhere she wouldn’t be recognised,” she said, finally. “I think she’d go to the poorest parts of the city.”

The Emperor smiled at her. “And why do you think that?”

“The Head Librarian is known to the Great Houses and the rest of the magical community,” Charity said. “If she tried to hide among them, they would know it – and one of them might betray her to you. She has few friends and fewer allies among the aristocracy. But in the slums, she could pass for a native.”

“Risky,” the Emperor observed. “A young girl, all alone, in a world where anything can happen to young women. But is she really alone?”

“I don’t know, Your Majesty,” Charity said.

“Someone broke into the Imperial Palace,” the Emperor reminded her, sarcastically. “But who? Who might still be alive ... and willing to help her? And who could do such strange tricks to my wards?”

“You think my brother is still alive,” Charity said, flatly.

“I believe it should be considered,” the Emperor said. There was a long pause as he stroked his beard, meditatively. “Who else could produce such strange magical tricks?”

He smirked. “And to track one’s prey,” he added, “one must know it. The Hexane Beast can never go too far from water, so a skilled hunter would know to set an ambush there. Where would your brother go?”

“Away,” Charity said. “He would be trying to get out of the city.”

“We have the tunnels heavily guarded,” the Emperor said. “Where else might he go?”

Charity shook her head. She knew Johan had tried to explore parts of the city, but he’d never spent a night somewhere – anywhere – outside the house. He could have found a hostel, if he’d gone looking or perhaps a ticket to leave the city, if their father’s magic had eventually started to drag him back. It was quite possible that Johan wouldn’t
know
where to go, now he was on the run. But if he wasn’t alone, someone else might know where to go.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “We didn’t really talk.”

“How frustrating it must have been for your father,” the Emperor sneered. “To have the prospect of such power in his family and then lose it, because of his own cruelty and shame.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Charity said.

“And what,” the Emperor asked, “might your brother
want
?”

“Freedom,” Charity said, simply. “I don’t think he wanted anything else.”

The Emperor looked disappointed. “Nothing else? Wine? Women? Song?”

Charity felt her face heat. “I think he was interested in a girl,” she said, “but my father managed to ruin it. He wanted to arrange their marriage, but the girl broke it off with him instead. Apart from that ...”

She shrugged. Johan, unlike Jamal, had never played any games with the female servants, let alone lured them into his bed. Unless he’d had a relationship that had remained well hidden ... no, it wasn’t too likely. Johan had been under their father’s supervision; he wouldn’t have tolerated anything that might bring the house into further disrepute. And besides, the maids hadn’t been as respectful of Johan as they’d been of his elder brother. They might not have let him touch their breasts, let alone open their legs for him.

“No vices,” the Emperor mused. “What a
pure
young man.”

“I don’t think he ever had the chance to develop any,” Charity said.

“I suppose not,” the Emperor said.

He stood and started to pace the room. “There will be a grand search of the entire city, starting with the poorer regions,” he said. “Every rock will be lifted and inspected for the missing fugitives. Wherever they are trying to hide, young lady, we will find them.”

Charity frowned. The poorer regions had no political power to object to a total search, but it would still cause massive disruption. And it would require thousands of soldiers to be put on the streets, ready to catch and identify anyone trying to leave the area. It would be an absolute nightmare, particularly with the city already flooded with visitors for the Conference.

“It will be difficult,” she said.

“The rats will have gone to ground,” the Emperor said. “I want to flush them out.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Charity said. There was no point in arguing with him when she’d just wind up being ordered to carry out the search anyway. “But it could take some time to organise.”

“You will remain here until the search begins,” the Emperor said.

Charity bit down on her anger and fear. Her younger siblings were at the house, probably scared out of their minds. But she didn’t dare protest out loud. The last thing she wanted the Emperor to do was remember that she had younger siblings. Whatever he wanted with the hostages – and she had a feeling it was nothing good – she didn’t want her siblings to be added to the group.

“I will do as you command,” she said. “And what about the hostages?”

“They’re being fed,” the Emperor said, dismissively. “Once the search is organised, I have another task for you.”

Charity groaned inwardly, but tried to look attentive.

“You will go to the Peerless School,” the Emperor said. “Once you are there, you will consult their records and identify the youngest thirty-three newborn magicians.
Not
children from a Great House, or even a known magical bloodline; children without any magicians in the family. I want those children brought to the barracks in the Imperial Palace and held there, under guard.”

“More children?” Charity asked. “Why?”

“Because I want them here,” the Emperor said, tartly. “And you will do as you are told.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Charity said, thinking hard. Thirty-three was a strongly magical number – and requesting newborn magicians, without family who could or would object, struck her as worrying. Very worrying. “The youngest in the school?”

“Yes,” the Emperor said. “The youngest you can find.”

Charity tried to think of a reason, but drew a blank. The Great Houses had long since learnt the folly of trying to exclude newborn magicians, even though their families might be dung-gatherers or sheep farmers. They brought in new blood from the gods, strengthening the gift of magic that her ancestors had once been given, centuries ago. But the Emperor couldn’t want to add their bloodlines to his own, could he? It would be years before they were mature enough to bear children.

And he didn’t specify girls
, she thought.
Boys can’t bear children
.

She shuddered. His motive had to be sinister ... but what?

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she said. “May I ask why you require such young magicians?”

“You may ask,” the Emperor said, “but I choose not to answer.”

Charity bowed her head, trying to keep her feelings under control. The Emperor would probably be sadistically delighted if he realised she was having problems coping with his orders, or suffering even as she carried them out. The children ... what did he want them
for?

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she said, bitterly.

The Emperor leered. “You may go organise the search,” he said. Clearly, he
did
understand that he was causing her pain. “And then you will return to me before you carry out your next set of orders.”

Charity bowed, then backed out of the Throne Room. A handful of red-robed men were standing outside, talking to one another in low voices. The looks they shot Charity were far from friendly, suggesting that they weren’t remotely pleased to see her. Charity gazed back evenly, refusing to admit to the fear she felt running through her veins. Whatever they wanted, whatever they were doing in the Golden City, she wasn’t
theirs
.

A pair of Inquisitors had already set up a map of the city in the War Room. Charity took a moment to admire the level of detail someone had worked into the map, then started to explain what the Emperor wanted. The Inquisitors didn’t seem surprised; they merely started to make notations on the map, then organise the search itself. Charity rapidly found herself out of her depth, so she just sat back and watched as the planning came together. The poorest regions of the city would be isolated, then the soldiers would go in and start turning the place upside down. If the fugitives were there, the Inquisitors were sure, they would be found.

“But the locals won’t know them,” Charity protested. “Nor will the searchers.”

“The object of the search will be advertised,” one of the Inquisitors said. “I believe we can count on the local criminal masterminds to hand the fugitives over to us, rather than risk us making all sorts of discoveries when we search their premises.
We
may not know who has moved into the vicinity, but rest assured
they
know.”

He looked down at the map, marking out places to set up roadblocks. “It won’t be as bad as it was in Yukon,” he added. “There, the city sprawled out for miles.”

Charity nodded. The Golden City might be inconveniently small, but – for once – that smallness worked in their favour. There were simply fewer places to hide, while there were also more magicians and soldiers on hand to do the searching.

“Good,” she said. “When can we begin the search?”

“I would prefer to have the troops in place this evening,” the Inquisitor said. “There will be too much disruption otherwise.”

“Very well,” Charity said. She hesitated, then took a gamble. “What would you need thirty-three magical children for?”

The Inquisitor frowned. “Black magic,” he said. “There isn’t much else that requires children. Even sexual predators would be wise to stay away from magical children.”

Charity nodded. Children with magic, when frightened or angry, could produce blasts of raw power that had random effects on their tormentors. Even the most perverted monster would stay away from magical children, knowing that the child might accidentally kill the attacker or the child’s parents would track him down and subject the bastard to a fate worse than death. And besides, even the Emperor couldn’t afford to do the one thing that would unite most of the world against him. Unless he intended to provoke an uprising that he could then crush ...