Bookworm III (42 page)

The rite
, she thought.
It must have given the Emperor the power to summon a dragon
.

Something else pressed against reality, as if it were waiting to be born. Charity sensed it, even though she couldn’t move; moments later, a second dragon shimmered into existence, as if it had slammed down from a higher plane and taken on mortal flesh and blood. It turned its scaly neck, then blasted fire over the remainder of the Arena. The handful of remaining people – mundanes with blasting sticks, magicians with wands – were vaporised before they could run for their lives. Charity watched as the dragon landed on the scorched and broken stone, then blew flames into the sky. The entire city would see the fires ...

She wanted to flee, or at least to look away. But she could no longer move.

***

“Cassandra,” Dread said.

Cass gritted her teeth. If any of the Inquisitors could have recognised her, it was Dread. She had spent practically every waking moment of her apprenticeship with him, knowing that one mistake could mean the end of her career. And he’d watched her with a cold awareness of each and every thing she did, watching for signs of weakness and moral turpitude. Even her mother, engaged in one of her rants over how everything had to be absolutely perfect, hadn’t been so coldly perceptive. A mere change in hair and dress wasn’t going to fool him.

“Dread,” she said. She didn’t lower her wand. Dread might have been an Inquisitor for longer than she’d been alive, but he hadn’t slowed down at all. “You’re on the wrong side.”

She saw – or thought she saw – the agony in his eyes. “So are you,” he said. “How did you break your oaths.”

“I was released from them,” Cass said. “You have to stop this ...”

She threw the spell as quickly as she could, but he still sidestepped it and fired back a set of curses of his own. Cass ducked as many of them as she could, yet she still had to block three of them and they all cost her magic. The sheer power at Dread’s disposal was bad enough, but when it was paired with experience and skill ... she knew the Grand Sorceress had been lucky to have Dread as an Inquisitor. If he hadn’t been one of them, he might have been a challenger for the post of Grand Sorcerer.

“Give up,” Dread snapped. She knew he was trying to tell her to run, pushing against his oaths as hard as he could. “You can’t win this ...”

Another wave of heat washed past her as the second dragon turned, bringing its giant mouth level with her eyes. Dread jumped backwards hastily as the dragon opened its mouth and blew a long rolling breath of fire at her; she rapidly summoned water, throwing as much as she could into the firedrake’s breath. There was a hissing sound, so loud she almost covered her ears, then steam exploded in all directions. Cass yelped as it stung her exposed flesh – the outfit might have drawn eyes, but it provided almost no protection at all – then threw a curse right up the dragon’s mouth. It hopped backwards, like a chicken, then glared at her with two beady eyes full of malice. But the curse hadn’t been enough to do more than irritate the giant beast.

She braced herself, then hurled a curse right at the creature’s eye. It howled, then lashed out with one scaly claw. Wards or no wards, Cass found herself picked up and thrown across the Arena; she landed, hard enough to stun her, on a patch of scorched ground. The impact shattered her wards; somehow, she managed to pick herself up, just before the dragon threw another burst of fire towards her. It missed, barely. She lifted her wand, trying to think of something – anything – that would work. Dragons were heavily armoured – dragonskin made the best protective armour in the world – and very few magicians could hope to put a hole through it. And even if she did, it still wouldn’t kill the beast.

Light Spinner landed next to her, lightning crackling around her hands as one of the dragons took to the air, its jaw hanging open as it prepared to spit more fire down at the two humans. Cass glanced at her, saw grim resolution in her one working eye, and nodded in agreement. It was time for one last stand.

“Watch my back,” Light Spinner ordered. “I didn’t lose everything when he took the wards.”

The flying dragon hovered closer, toying with them. Light Spinner raised a hand and started to chant, in a language so old that Cass barely recognised it. For long moments nothing seemed to happen – she could swear the dragon was laughing at them – and then green light flared high overhead. She looked up, just in time to see lightning crackling from the peaks, then stabbing down at the flying dragon. The creature howled as green light tore through its body, ripping it into shreds. Pieces of steaming flesh fell to the ground and splattered everywhere.

“The weather spells,” Light Spinner said, with heavy satisfaction. “They were never keyed into the Golden Throne.”

The green light faded, just as the second dragon lunged forward. Light Spinner threw a fireball at its armoured chest, but the spell simply spattered off the dragon’s scales. Cass summoned the strength to create a protective ward, then cursed as a well-placed spell shattered it. Seconds later, the dragon lunged at Light Spinner and slammed into her wards, knocking her flying. Cass hesitated, then threw a minor tickling hex at the dragon’s rear, in the hopes it would distract the creature. But it merely breathed fire in her direction, then turned to follow Light Spinner.

A hand wrapped itself around Cass’s neck, holding her tightly. She kicked out, but her captor held her too firmly to be dislodged. His magic field was overpowering hers, making it impossible to cast a spell. She knew without looking up that Dread had caught her, that it was his fingers gripping her neck. Like the other Inquisitors, he was strong physically as well as magically. And he wouldn’t let her go.

She poked his skin with her fingernails, hoping to force him to let her go, but it wasn’t enough to break him. His hands tightened on her neck; she looked up and saw pity in his grey eyes, as well as something else, something unreadable. Desperately, she tried to summon raw magic, but even that failed.

“I’m sorry,” Dread said, so quietly she couldn’t help wondering if she’d imagined it. “I’m so sorry.”

And then he snapped her neck like a twig.

***

Charity saw Light Spinner land in front of the Emperor, her wards broken and twisted by the impact. The Emperor didn’t give her any time to recover as his new pet crawled towards her, its eyes laden with unthinking malice. Instead, he kicked her in the chest and laughed, unpleasantly, as blood spluttered out of her mouth. The Grand Sorceress didn’t seem inclined to lie there and take it; she started to pull herself upright, despite clearly having more than a few broken bones. But the Emperor didn’t seem to care.

“You should have stayed down,” the Emperor said. “Or a statue. You wouldn’t have died so ... so unpleasantly. But women have never known what was good for them.”

Light Spinner’s one good eye met his, unblinkingly. “Men have never known what was good for them, either,” she said. Her voice was harsh, but clear. “You should have stayed at home.”

The Emperor’s face changed, just for an instant. Light Spinner stared, her face suddenly horrified. Charity watched in numb disbelief as the Emperor kicked her in the ribs, knocking her back to the ground, then pressed his foot down on her chest. There was an awful crunching sound, then blood spurted up and over his boot.

“I have my Empire now,” the Emperor hissed. But it no longer sounded like him. “And you will no longer live to see my works.”

He looked down at the body for a long moment, then straightened up. “Well,” he said, as he waved a hand at Charity. “What do you think?”

Charity’s entire body jerked as the spell holding her in place snapped. She looked around, feeling panic bubbling at the corner of her mind. There were dead bodies everywhere, flames licking through half of the Arena, and a dragon standing on the sand, peering at her as a cat peers at a mouse. Whatever happened next, and she had no idea what would happen, it was clear that the Empire would never be the same again.

In the end, she could only stare at him in horror.

Chapter Thirty-Five

“Two guards,” Daria said, sniffing the air ahead of them. “Several more running away towards the Arena as fast as their legs can carry them.”

Elaine nodded. Magic – raw magic – was pulsing out over the city, in a manner that triggered snapshot images of the books crammed into her mind. Spells not seen since the Second Necromantic War were being unleashed into the world, summoning creatures that were best left forgotten. Anyone with any sensitivity to magic would know that the situation had become a great deal worse ... but what could they do about it? The Emperor held all the cards.

“Then we’d better go,” she said. She hefted her wand, mentally gathering herself. No matter how many times she’d had to fight, she knew she wasn’t a natural fighter. “Let’s move.”

She’d never actually seen the tunnel entrance, even when leaving the city on the Iron Dragons. Unlike the other tunnels, it was protected by a charmed fence, a handful of hex signs warning of danger and repelling children or mundanes from even going close to the tunnel entrance. The entrance itself was just a gaping gash in the sheer rock, with two pairs of rails running out of the city and into the darkness. Two guards stood beside the fence, peering towards the Arena with nervous eyes. Flickering lights, dancing high overhead, cast an eerie light over the scene.

“You,” the lead guard called. “You can’t come here!”

Daria growled, deep in her throat, as the second guard made to object. The first guard elbowed him, hard. Elaine couldn’t help a flicker of amusement, followed by bitter guilt and even shame. The first guard was merely doing his duty, following orders. He hadn’t allowed his friend to even catcall at two young women. It was almost a shame, she knew, that they would both be in deep trouble at the end of the day.

A dull roar echoed over the city. She turned and saw a giant
shape
in the air, hanging above the Arena. The sight was terrifying. No one had seen anything like it for hundreds of years, since the last dragon had been killed. There had always been stories about dragons hiding in unsettled parts of the world, but no one had ever given the stories any credence. And
Elaine
knew that dragons were summoned from another world ...

She turned back to the guards and cast a compulsion spell of her own invention. They wore protective amulets, but the spell she’d invented bypassed most protections on its way to the brain. She readied herself to launch something nastier if necessary, but the two guards fell into a trance immediately. Beside her, Daria sniffed at them suspiciously, then paced down to the fence. Elaine watched her friend go, then turned back to the guards and cleared her throat.

“Here are your orders,” she said, as green lightning flashed out in the distance. “You will not prevent us from walking through the tunnel. You will remain here, on guard; when your superiors arrive, you will tell them that no one passed through the tunnel.”

She waved her wand, fine-tuning the spell, then hurried down to join Daria and Johan. Johan was staring at her, his expression unreadable, but she could feel his concern through the bond they shared. He’d been hit with enough compulsion spells to be completely repulsed by the idea of using them, even on a pair of guards. Elaine agreed, particularly after what Deferens had planned to do to her, but there were no other options. Unless, of course, she wanted to kill the guards and hide the bodies.

I’m sorry
, she thought, looking back at the two men.
But I don’t see any other way out of here
.

She crossed the fence, ignoring the subtle prodding from the hex signs, and peered into the darkness. Up close, the tunnel was narrower than she’d realised – or, maybe, it was the awareness, no matter how flawed, that an Iron Dragon could come looming out of the darkness at any second. She listened and heard nothing, beyond a steady drip-drip-drip of water, somewhere in the shadows. But the sounds from the Arena were so loud that it was hard to be sure it was quiet inside the tunnel.

“There’s a strong stench of oil and smoke, but little else,” Daria observed. “We need to move.”

Elaine cast a night-vision spell over her eyes as Daria led the way into the tunnel. The interior was eerie; rough-hewn walls, glittering rails and walkways intended to allow the staff to walk along the tunnel, without running the risk of being hit by a train. A handful of spells could be sensed crawling along the ceiling, filtering the air; despite herself, Elaine was almost disappointed. There might be no magic in the Iron Dragons, but the operators still used magic in some places.

“It’s to keep the poisonous gases away from the crew,” Johan said, when she asked. “Some of the smoke is actually poisonous and, in this tunnel, it builds up rapidly.”

“I can smell it,” Daria said. “It’s horrid.”

“It’s progress,” Johan said, as Elaine hastily cast a filtering spell of her own. “And aren’t there times when magic leaves behind dangerous residue as well?”

“Yeah,” Elaine said, remembering the Blight. “But not for many – many – years.”

But was that true? The magic she’d been taught – the magic refined over a thousand years ago – left behind little residue, but Deferens had unleashed spells from a bygone age. He was running the risk of contaminating the entire Golden City, purely for power – and the greater glory of the Witch-King. The more Elaine thought about it, the more she was sure that Deferens had been overcome by the Witch-King years ago. Even a power-mad sorcerer would have thought twice about unleashing dragons, if he’d even known how.

But the Witch-King would know
, Elaine thought, coldly.
The spells were commonplace, back in his day
.

The darkness seemed to grow stronger as they walked deeper into the tunnel. It grew cold, colder than it had been in the city, even when it was snowing. Elaine cast charms to warm them, but there was something in the shadows that seemed to interfere with her magic. No matter how many charms she cast, the temperature kept dropping sharply. Maybe it was one of the protective wards scattered around the city, she told herself, or maybe it was just her nerves making it harder to cast the spells. It was impossible to tell.