Bookworm III (44 page)

“I don’t know,” Charity said. She had always believed the Watchtower to be impregnable, utterly indestructible. “Magic?”

The Emperor’s face darkened, but Dread spoke first. “Nothing magical could get into the Watchtower without being noted and logged,” he said. “And something powerful enough to destroy the fortress would have been detectable halfway across the city.”

“Then I don’t know,” Charity said. Tiredness made her voice more whiny than she might have preferred. “How do you expect me to guess?”

“You never know what someone knows these days,” the Emperor observed, archly. He turned to survey the damage, his hands clasped behind his back. “Whoever planned this really did a great job.”

Charity and Dread exchanged glances. “Really,” Dread said. “Because, from where I’m sitting, over two thousand people are dead.”

“Perhaps more than that,” the Emperor said, without looking back. “How many bodies were burned to ash by my magnificent pets?”

“I do not know,” Dread said.

Charity shivered. It was illegal to preserve a person’s body, for fear of necromancy, but each of the Great Houses had their own funeral rites, spoken over bodies before they were burned to ash and scattered in crypts. None of them would be happy at having the bodies destroyed by the Emperor, even if there
had
been an attempt to kill him. And then ... what if Lady Lakeside
had
brought her sisters to the Arena? They might all be dead and she wouldn’t have a clue.

“I cannot even guess,” the Emperor agreed. He walked over to where one of the would-be assassins had fallen, then picked up a long hollow stick from the ground. “And what is this?”

Dread took it and frowned. “I do not know,” he said, again. “It looks like a blowpipe.”

“But it killed people,” the Emperor said. He sounded, for the first time, disturbed rather than amused. “And there’s no magic in it at all.”

He turned as a red-robed sorcerer ran into the Arena, carrying a heavy parchment scroll. Charity watched as the Emperor turned to meet him, then looked at Dread. The Inquisitor looked ... tired, and oddly furious. She wondered, suddenly, how
he
was coping with the situation. Losing the Watchtower had to sting badly. The gods alone knew how many Inquisitors had died in the blast.

“Lady Lakeside, it would seem, has decided to stick a knife in my back,” the Emperor said, rolling up the scroll. “She has called an emergency meeting of the Great Houses and the remaining members of the former Privy Council, with the declared intention of unseating me.”

Charity swallowed. No one had ever successfully unseated a Grand Sorcerer, not since the first Grand Sorcerer had established the rules. They would not only have to fight the most powerful magician in the world, but the Inquisitors as well. But now, with the Watchtower gone, just how many Inquisitors were
left
? She knew Dread was alive, and there had been a handful of others in the Arena, but what had happened to the remainder? Had they been on the streets or in the Watchtower?

“This is treason, of course,” the Emperor said. He turned his head, locking eyes with the dragon. There was a brief moment of mental communication, then the dragon hurled itself into the sky, wings beating frantically as it struggled for attitude. “We will have to do something about her, now.”

“Your Majesty,” Charity said, before she could finish thinking of a plan. “Is that wise?”

The Emperor turned to face her. “To allow traitors to go unpunished?”

Charity thought, as fast as she could. “Your Majesty, the Great Houses may have more magical power than yourself,” she said. “I think ...”

The Emperor backhanded her, slapping her right across the face. Charity tasted blood in her mouth as she stumbled, almost falling to the ground. Her parents had walloped her from time to time, when they’d grown tired of endless lectures, but she’d never been slapped so brutally. It felt almost as if he’d knocked out a couple of teeth.

“You will not question my judgement again,” the Emperor hissed. “Or would you like a demonstration of what happens to uppity bitches in my homeland?”

Charity stared at him, then shook her head. Part of her wanted to provoke him into killing her, but the oaths wouldn’t let her try to wriggle out of his service that way, any more than they would allow her to kill herself. And besides, she had a feeling that his demonstration would be painful and humiliating, but not fatal. There was no point in allowing him to torture her ...

But the kids
, she thought, as the Emperor turned away.
What can I do for them
?

Dread passed her a handkerchief, then cast a light healing spell on her jaw. The pain faded rapidly to a dull throbbing, no worse than the toothache she’d once had as a child. Her father had forbidden her to use any painkilling potions, pointing out that she’d ignored his advice, time and time again, to actually brush her teeth. He’d said, she recalled, that the pain might teach her a lesson. It had, in many ways, but she’d still hated him at the time.

She closed her eyes for a long moment, then followed the Emperor through the arch and out onto the streets. They were deserted, save for a handful of soldiers and red-robed sorcerers, but the Emperor didn’t seem to mind. This time, instead of climbing into a carriage, he walked towards the Great Houses, the dragon flying high overhead. Charity looked up as its shadow fell over her and shivered.

“It’s hard to kill a dragon,” Dread muttered. “A single sorcerer would never be able to do it.”

“I know,” Charity muttered back. All of the legends surrounding dragons claimed they were nearly invincible. Light Spinner had killed one, but only by drawing on the immense power stored in the city’s protective wards. “Can the Great Houses kill one?”

“I don’t know,” Dread said. “Did they have time to make any preparations?”

Charity knew it was a rhetorical question. A dragon attack had been rated about as likely as the Grand Sorceress snapping her wand, then insisting that everyone else snapped theirs too and give up magic for life. Whatever protections there were surrounding House Lakeside, they wouldn’t be enough to stop a dragon. What sort of paranoid fool would waste time and effort constructing wards against purely imaginary threats?

But they’re not imaginary
, she thought, as she looked at the dragon.
That threat is all too real
.

She sighed and rubbed her jaw as House Lakeside came into view. It was one of the oldest buildings in the city, built during the time of the first Grand Sorcerer, something the Lakeside Family never allowed anyone to forget. They had an unbroken line of powerful sorcerers, skilled druids and resourceful alchemists who were responsible for some of the most fascinating magical breakthroughs since the first laws of magic had been codified. If they hadn’t produced a Grand Sorcerer, they’d certainly produced hundreds of people who had managed to steer events to their satisfaction.

And maybe that was what they wanted
, she thought, as the small army came to a halt and surveyed the mansion. The Lakeside Family was so wealthy that they actually had a small garden surrounding their home.
Not to have the appearance of power, but the cold hard reality
.

“Well,” the Emperor announced, as his sorcerers poked at the wards surrounding the mansion. “It seems the rats have sealed themselves into their lair.”

He snickered, then looked up at the dragon. Soldiers and sorcerers scattered back in alarm as the dragon’s mouth lolled open, then a long stream of flame cascaded down and struck the wards. Fire rolled over the wards, licking against the magic and searching for any weaknesses. Charity realised, to her shock, that the flames were actually threatening to set the wards on fire, burning away the magic that held them in place. No wonder dragons had been considered so fearsome, so many years ago. The flames they produced were the most effective weapon against magic known to exist.

The temperature rose, sharply, as the dragon kept pouring fire down onto the wards. Charity hoped – prayed – that the other houses were fireproof as the garden caught fire, the flames spreading rapidly and reducing the trees and hedges to ash. Inch by inch, the wards began to splutter and die, then snap out of existence. Charity moaned inwardly as the dragon roared, then edged closer to the mansion. The final wards were starting to break under its flames ...

A wash of magic pushed her back as the family launched a counterattack. She watched, lifting her wand, as a stream of magicians emerged from the wards and attacked, throwing curses into the midst of the army. The Emperor laughed, then sent a new set of commands to the dragon. It stopped pouring fire onto the wards and turned its attention to the newcomers, incinerating them all in a blaze of light. And then it returned its attention to the mansion.

“They died for nothing,” Dread said.

Charity shuddered. She’d known a couple of the Lakeside Family’s children from her time at school. One daughter had been both smart and pretty; the boys had flocked round her like bees to honey, while the girls had hated her silently. The other had merely been pretty; Charity had known her long enough to be sure she didn’t have an original bone in her body or thought in her head. She’d heard the latter girl had been sent out of the city after her graduation, perhaps to somewhere where intelligence was considered less vital than good looks. It had certainly taken her out of the running to become Prime Heir.

But Dread was right. The dead had died for nothing.

The wards sputtered violently, one last time, then died completely. Flames licked along the side of the mansion, burning off the ivy and other climbing plants that the family had used as a form of protection, but the entire building didn’t catch fire. The dragon lunged forwards, claws extended, and tore right through the stone, ripping the building open as easily as a human might cut into a piece of meat. Charity realised, as the dragon plucked up a couple of defenders and swallowed them whole, that the family had planned to fight through the house, room by room. But the dragon had ruined all their plans.

But they could have run
, she thought, as the soldiers and sorcerers ran forward and plunged into the house.
Why didn’t they run
?

The Emperor watched and smirked as House Lakeside was ruthlessly torn apart by his men, while the dragon perched on a nearby house and peered down at the scurrying humans as if it was considering which one to have for lunch. Charity wanted to look away, but she forced herself to watch as the handful of survivors – mainly children too young to fight – were pulled out of the house and dragged in front of the Emperor, while the serving maids were taken into half-intact rooms and brutalised. The handful of adult survivors were killed out of hand.

“Well,” the Emperor said. “I believe you will want to see these three.”

Charity knew what she would see before she looked. Jolie, Chanel and Chime stood there, staring at her in absolute horror. They would see the mark on her face, she knew, and ... and who knew what they would think? Offhand, she couldn’t recall her father ever slapping her mother, not when her mother was a powerful magician in her own right. Even their loud arguments over Johan’s ...
condition
hadn’t ended with physical violence. But sometimes the maids had been slapped ...

“Your sisters, I presume,” the Emperor said. “What should I do with them?”

“Let them go back to school,” Charity pleaded. “They’re too young to be dangerous.”

“Ah, but children grow into big strong threats,” the Emperor observed. “One day, one of these young ladies may even try to kill me.”

“You have a dragon,” Charity reminded him.

“There are ways to kill dragons,” the Emperor countered. He was enjoying watching her agony. “And it isn’t as if I need to keep you happy.”

“Please,” Charity said, falling to her knees. The children stared at her, as if they didn’t quite understand what was happening. “Please. Spare their lives. I’ll do anything.”

“You would do anything for me now,” the Emperor pointed out. He reached for her hair and stroked it, as one would stroke a cat. “But their lives will be spared, for the moment.”

He looked at one of his sorcerers. “Take them to the Peerless School,” he ordered. “They can stay there until I send for them.”

“Thank you,” Charity said, as the children were marched off. “I ...”

“Oh, you’ll pay for it,” the Emperor assured her. “In fact ...”

He broke off as a messenger ran up to him and threw himself into full prostration. Charity blinked, then realised that the news had to be bad. The Emperor hadn’t started killing messengers yet, but it might just be a matter of time.

“Get up,” the Emperor snarled. “What’s happened?”

“Two women and a man made their way through the tunnels, evading the ... special guard,” the messenger reported. “They froze an entire troop on the other side, then vanished.”

The Emperor’s face purpled. “Your brother would seem to be alive,” he said, to Charity. “Who else could do that to an entire troop?”

He turned to look at Dread. “Get after them,” he ordered. “I want the Head Librarian alive; once you’ve taken her prisoner, kill the other two and get her back here. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Dread said, stiffly. “I understand.”

Charity shuddered. She knew that Dread and the Head Librarian had worked together in the past ... was it possible they were friends or lovers? But it didn’t matter, she knew; Dread, bound by his oaths, would carry out his orders. And if they were friends, he would have to bring her back to a fate worse than death. Unless he could find a loophole ...

... But was there one to be found?

“Go,” the Emperor ordered. He beckoned one of the sorcerers over and muttered orders in his ear, then turned back to Charity. “Go back to the Palace and wait for me there.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Charity said. Her sisters were alive. Her sisters would
stay
alive. And she would do whatever it took to
keep
it that way. “I’ll be there.”

“Of course you will,” the Emperor said. He watched Dread leave, then smirked at her. “You will do whatever I say.”