Bookworm III (4 page)

“The gaffer wants to leave the city immediately,” Daria said. “I managed to convince him to wait a couple of hours, so I could come fetch you. Do you still want to come with us?”

“... Yes,” Elaine said. The hesitation that echoed through the bond was surprisingly strong, suggesting she was truly reluctant to leave. “We just need to finish packing, then I need to hand the wards over to Vane. She can hold them until the Grand Sorceress selects my successor.”

Johan frowned. “Why not just give the job to her permanently?”

“She might,” Elaine said. She shrugged. “But I don’t get to choose who will succeed me.”

Johan nodded. If some of Elaine’s tales about her predecessor as Head Librarian were true, not every Head Librarian had taken up the job willingly.
He
wouldn’t have been happy to remain confined to the city, not after his family had treated him as a prisoner, but Elaine was different. She was unadventurous and shy, so much so that Vane – her Deputy – handled almost all of her personal contacts. The library staff sometimes had to wonder if their Head Librarian truly existed.

Don’t be silly
, he told himself.
They know she exists
.

Daria cleared her throat. “They will be leaving in two hours,” she warned. “Can you be ready by then?”

“I think so,” Elaine said. “I would prefer not to travel on the Iron Dragons.”

“Then start packing,” Daria said. “Hurry.”

Elaine reached for a sheet of paper, sketched out a note for Vane, then tapped it with her wand. Johan watched, feeling a glimmer of awe, as the paper rose into the air and disappeared through an air vent. Wherever Vane was, the note would find her. It was less spectacular than other magic he’d seen – his brother had been fond of using him as a target for all kinds of spells – but he had to admire her precise control. Most magicians were more than a little sloppy when it came to using magic, spending it freely. But then, Elaine had very little power of her own.

And a little less would have seen her excluded from the Peerless School
, Johan thought. He understood the frustration Elaine sometimes felt, even though she was the most knowledgeable magician alive. She had to be focused and utterly precise, while her peers could achieve everything she could and more by waving wands around at random. And yet, given time to think and plan, she made a formidable opponent.

“Go pack,” Elaine ordered. “Daria and I will wait for you here.”

Johan nodded, then rose and headed through the door. Outside, a handful of library assistants were carting boxes of books past him, using spells to manoeuvre the crates through the air. Johan shivered – that spell had been used to play with him, once upon a time – then allowed them to pass him before he walked down to his apartment. The ward Elaine had placed on it, keyed specifically to keep the rest of his family out, glowed as he approached, recognising his presence. If his father, or Charity, or anyone else who was related to him had tried to enter, the wards would have taken offence. The results would not have been pleasant.

And serve them right
, Johan thought, as he opened the door.
I don’t want anything to do with them
.

He pushed the thought aside, then stepped into the room. It was larger than his bedroom in House Conidian, dominated by a bed large enough for two people. Elaine had told him that the apartments were normally assigned to visiting scholars, who apparently liked their comforts. Johan had – barely – managed to avoid asking if those comforts included women from the city. He knew, thanks to Jamal’s boasting, just how easy it was to find a whore to share one’s bed for the night, even though he’d never done it himself.

And Daria would look nice on the bed
, he told himself, before he angrily thrust the thought away from him. Daria was older than him by at least four years, assuming she and Elaine were the same age, and a born werewolf. She would have the enhanced sense of smell common to all werewolves ... he cringed in sudden horror as he realised she would know what he was thinking or feeling. His scent would change every time he looked at her ...

Shaking his head, he reached for his bag and checked his clothes. Elaine had told him to bring as little as possible, so he’d packed two sets of clothing, a couple of books and a small bag of money. Thankfully, his vault in the City Bank hadn’t been sealed or handed back to Charity, in her new position as Family Head. Johan couldn’t help wondering if Charity had ever
known
that their father had attempted to bribe Johan into returning to the family fold ... or if she expected the vault to remain closed until she was ready to demand access. The bankers wouldn’t be in a hurry to tell her it existed, after all. They gained more from leaving the money in the bank, under their loving care.

And I should write out a will
, Johan thought, although he’d been discouraged from doing anything of the sort.
Something that will leave my money to someone – anyone – else
.

He sighed as he picked up the bag, then took one last look around the chamber. It was plain and simple, but it was
his
, the first place he’d felt truly secure. Jamal and his other siblings, even Charity, hadn’t hesitated to make his room at home into a nightmare, hiding magical booby traps everywhere. He still remembered the two days he’d spent as a stone with shuddering horror, even though his father had eventually tracked him down. And none of the others had ever been punished for their crimes against him ...

The memory made him shiver, helplessly. He hastily put the bag down, then closed his eyes and concentrated on a mental discipline Elaine had taught him. It seemed to come easier, now that he was her apprentice; perhaps a little of her precision had rubbed off on him. But he was always aware of her presence at the back of his mind, like being able to sense the sun through clouds and rain. It was strange to realise that she wasn’t aware of
him
, even though she
should
have been. The books he’d read, when he’d been trying to decide if he should become her apprentice, had warned that his mistress would be able to compel him to obey, if necessary. But the bond he shared with Elaine didn’t seem to be able to do anything of the sort.

He pushed the thought to one side, opened his eyes and picked up the bag again. Tossing it over his shoulder, he strode out of the room, closing the door behind him with a thud. He didn’t bother to reset the ward. There was nothing left in the room he cared about, not really. He’d never had many possessions at home and he’d brought none of them with him when he’d left for good. His life had never really given him the chance to become attached to anything, certainly nothing material. He’d never been able to tell when one of his few possessions would be booby-trapped and turned into a weapon against him.

He walked back into Elaine’s office and placed the bag on the floor. “I’m ready,” he said, simply. “When do we go?”

“Now,” Daria said. She rose in one smooth motion, then picked up Johan’s bag effortlessly and peered at it suspiciously. “I hope you listened to your mistress about what you could and couldn’t bring?”

“I’m not religious,” Johan said. Elaine had warned him not to bring any religious artefacts with him, pointing out that the Travellers would not approve. “I don’t have any icons to bring.”

“Good,” Daria said. “Elaine?”

“I’ll join you in an hour or so,” Elaine said. “Johan will tell you when I’m on my way.”

“How nice,” Daria said. She gave Johan a smile that made his heart beat faster. “You have a young man who can’t get you out of his mind.”

Johan felt a surge of embarrassment from Elaine ... and, when he looked up, he saw that her pale cheeks were bright red.

“Thank you,” Elaine said, tartly.

Daria giggled, then motioned for Johan to follow her out of the door, carrying the bag in one hand. Johan hesitated, torn between taking it from her and being reluctant to get any closer while his scent was still detectable. She would know he was lusting after her ...

“I’ll see you soon,” Elaine promised. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That doesn’t leave much for him
to
do,” Daria called back. “Bye!”

Johan sighed, then allowed her to lead him out of the office and down towards the nearest exit.

Chapter Three

Charity Conidian felt uncomfortably like a fake as the carriage came to a halt outside the gates, allowing her to climb out of the vehicle right in front of the Imperial Palace. The lines of petitioners, many of whom had been waiting there for hours if not days, turned to stare at her as the gates opened, allowing her to enter the building. She kept her face as impassive as she could, sensing hundreds of faces glowering at her.
They
had been waiting for hours and she was being allowed to enter the moment she arrived? It was hard for her to blame them for being annoyed.

Your father would merely have sneered at them
, her thoughts reminded her. No one said anything out loud, of course. Her golden robes marked her as someone of substance.
He wouldn’t have doubted his right to move ahead for a second
.

She cursed her father mentally as she walked through the gates and up to the massive pair of stone doors. Magic crackled around her, reminding her – as if she’d needed the reminder – that she was walking into the lair of the Grand Sorceress herself, a woman with the power to do
anything
she liked to Charity and what remained of her family. No one would come to their defence, not after the ...
incident
at House Conidian. Her father was effectively dead – being Powerless was worse than dead – and his network of clients had been shattered, while the sharks were already gathering. If she couldn’t salvage something from the wreckage, the Conidian Family would die.

But she didn’t know
how
! Jamal – wherever he was now – had been the Prime Heir, while Charity had been primed for an arranged marriage to someone who suited her father’s interests. It hadn’t been something she
wanted
, but she’d accepted it ever since she’d learnt to understand how the world worked. The family came first, always. And if it meant she had to share her bed with an elderly warlock who had interests her father wished to share, she had no choice, but to obey. The only consolation had been the certain knowledge that there would always be a place for her at House Conidian. But now even that was gone.

She looked up as she heard someone walking towards her with calm, measured footsteps and saw a tall blonde-haired girl, in her early twenties if Charity was any judge. The girl nodded to her, then walked past. Charity stopped and turned to stare at her as she left the palace, wondering just who she was. Her father had made sure she knew all the movers and shakers in the Golden City, as well as their children, and she didn’t recognise the blonde. It was possible she’d been brought up outside the city, yet everyone who wielded political power
had
to spend some time inside the Golden City. And she should have known ...

“My Lady,” a voice said. She turned to see a middle-aged man, wearing a slave collar around his neck. “You are requested to wait in the antechamber.”

Charity nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Her father had been a powerful magician, the master of a spider’s web of influence ranging from the Imperial Palace to the Southern Lands, and a Privy Councillor.
He
could have demanded an immediate interview with the Grand Sorceress and been seen at once;
she
had to wait, just so she knew her place. But she was almost grateful for the chance to collect herself, she decided, as she was shown into the antechamber. The girl looking back at her from the mirror was almost a stranger ...

She rubbed her eyes, bitterly. Once, looking good as well as strongly magical had seemed a good thing. She had to attract suitors, after all, suitors who might be prepared to trade power and influence for her hand in marriage. Now, she looked weak and mournful, her large blue eyes making her look childlike. There was no point in trying to hide behind a glamour, not now. She simply didn’t feel like putting the effort forward to construct one. And she couldn’t help wondering, as she sat and forced herself to calm down, just what the Grand Sorceress wanted. The chance to cripple one of the Great Houses might well seem ideal, from her point of view.

Not that we’re much of a threat any longer
, she thought, bitterly. Her father and Jamal were Powerless and Johan was dead, while her younger siblings were too young to influence events. If she failed to keep the family together, the gods alone knew what would happen to the children. Jay wouldn’t come of age for another two years and the others were younger still.
We’ll be lucky to keep even a fragment of our power
.

She looked down at her hand. It was shaking. Johan’s fault, of course, although he hadn’t meant to do anything of the sort. She’d been turned into animals and objects before – Jamal had picked on her too – but Johan’s power had left her deeply shaken. He might not have known it – she hoped he hadn’t known it – yet his power had blanked her out, almost completely. She hadn’t just been forced into the shape of a rat; she’d
been
a rat. The experience had almost destroyed her confidence completely.

The slave cleared his throat. “Can I get you something to drink, My Lady?”

“No, thank you,” Charity said. She wanted a glass of brandy desperately, but she needed a clear head when she faced the Grand Sorceress. “I will be fine.”

She had to wait for nearly half an hour before a different slave appeared and beckoned her forward, leading her into the Throne Room. Charity hadn’t been in the giant chamber since the family had moved to the Golden City, when she’d been presented to the Grand Sorceress, but it hadn’t changed. The Golden Throne was still glowing with magic, linked into the powerful wards surrounding the palace. Charity couldn’t help admiring the sheer level of workmanship that had gone into crafting the Throne. There was no one alive who could build the like.

Her father had once told her that entire fields of magic had been forbidden, then forgotten, never to be rediscovered. Charity hadn’t really believed him, but now, looking at the Throne, she wondered if he’d been right all along. The Throne was not only soaked in magic, she saw; it was linked so firmly into the Golden City itself that it would be impossible to remove, or even to reprogram. No one who was not a member of the Imperial Family could sit in the Throne and live.