Wizard (The Key to Magic) (7 page)

Eyes jammed shut against the glare, he felt the devices die by the hundreds, many incinerated into bits two small to identify, but many more having their spells stripped away so that their ethereal presences simply went out.

When he opened his eyes and looked down, his view was full of a black roof.

Not slacking his speed, he reinforced his ethereal armor, built a ram of flux-compressed air below his feet, and smashed through the tar and fabric of the roof, the wood, metal, and plaster of seven unlit floors that went by too fast to identify any of their contents, an area that must have been a deep cellar, and finally several manheight of earth and a span of not-quite-stone to punch into an unlighted space.

By reflex, he spun flux to decelerate as he passed into this, shedding all of his speed and energy in less than two manheight, but nevertheless landing with a force that was strong enough to send a stinging jolt up through his feet and legs as he sank to a crouch. Debris tumbled down from the hole that his passage had made and he automatically shrugged off this annoyance with a wash of peeping-lavender. While the shards of rock, clods of clay, and bits of wood impacted around him with sounds that echoed, he put out his hands to steady himself and found that he had come to rest on a stony, seamless surface. He could see nothing; the hole above had already been sealed by collapsing rubble.

Extending his hands to feel, he began to read the background ether to try to gather some conception of his location. The not-quite-stone that he could feel on the floor wrapped around apparently unbroken to form an arch overhead and this extended before and behind as far as he could sense. The exact nature of the space was unclear, but it seemed that he had penetrated into a tunnel of some sort. As it was dry, he did not think it likely a sewer. He drew a deep breath and let it out, then stood.

A voice hissed from behind him. "Don't move,
sorcerer!
"

SIX

2170 by the Common Reckoning

(3211 Before the Founding of the Empire)

Oaurlervy Faction Investigative Section Headquarters

Secured City of Dhiloeckmyur

The conference room was at the end of a disused side corridor on the twenty-ninth floor and was empty save for the Committee for Oversight and Review's table and chairs. COFOAR never met in the same place twice and, like all truly powerful entities, had no need for the trappings of officialdom. There were also no guards; lesser men would simply have been a hindrance in the business of sorcerers.

Beltr marched with parade ground precision up to the long table, came to ramrod attention, and saluted.

Commandant Lyreo returned the salute sharply. "Report."

The stocky president of the Committee gave the order in a curt, emotionless tone. The equally gray haired officers that flanked him, Commandant Drough, a thin man with a fussy demeanor, and Commandant Watl, a knife-jawed woman, were motionless except for their eyes, which examined Beltr in what he thought must surely be undisguised condemnation.

Thus far in his career, Beltr had seldom had opportunity to have contact with the Committee and on all of those previous occasions he had been called in to present testimony in matters concerning the shortcomings of others. This current summons had arrived within moments of the comm signal that had informed him that the wizard had eluded pursuit. That promptness could only indicate that the Committee suspected culpability on his part and unless he could convince them otherwise, he would face immediate censure for misfeasance. According to the degree to which he was found responsible for the debacle, he could face anything from a reprimand to flogging, imprisonment, or execution. At the very least, a negative finding would destroy his career in the Investigative Section.

Beltr knew that the Committee did not want to hear a recounting of the details. All of the pertinent information, no doubt from both official and covert sources, would have already been considered by the panel. And he dare not attempt to present his own exculpatory version of what had taken place. Any attempted justification of his actions would be interpreted automatically as an admission of failure.

He took a slow breath to hold his nerves steady, then said, "The appearance of the insurgent wizard and his subsequent escape from custody are indisputable proof that, as I had come to suspect, a pervasive conspiracy of unsuppressed magical subversives has taken root in Dhiloeckmyur."

He had to show neither hesitancy nor uncertainty and give them an explanation for the fiasco that would play to their preconceptions and at the same time hold him entirely blameless.

"Further, the evidence indicates that only through the complicity of persons within the ranks of the Compliance Directorate itself could his escape have been accomplished."

This last brought an instant reaction from the stony-faced group -- scowls.

"Impossible," Drough contradicted.

"The wizard used a Master Key to disable the port interdiction ward on the interrogation chamber," Beltr announced. "As per regulations, no one within the field ranks of the Investigative Section has access to that Key."

This was a fact. Only members of the supervisory ranks -- including the sorcerers of this panel -- were privy to Master Keys. From the suddenly guarded expressions of the three, he knew that he had indeed succeeded in deflecting the focus of suspicion away from himself. The rivalries within the senior echelon of the Compliance Directorate were common knowledge.

"All conspirators within the Directorate must be eliminated." Watl said in a grinding voice. "Who are these traitors?"

"For such a conspiracy to exist, it must be well hidden. I do not believe that it will be possible to root it out without placing the wizard in custody once more. He is the only exposed link."

Commandant Drough looked disgusted. "Resistance to the Faction is an abomination."

Lyreo glanced in a significant manner at his two companions, received firm nods, then ordered Beltr, "Pursue the investigation at all speed. You are authorized to requisition any and all resources, both personnel and material, necessary to the intense prosecution of the search. Spare no effort to arrest the wizard and extract the identities of the traitors."

Beltr saluted again, turned about, and marched from the room. At no point did he permit himself a smile.

SEVEN

2170 by the Common Reckoning

(3211 Before the Founding of the Empire)

Secured City of Dhiloeckmyur

The bootleggers frequented the plazas and parks of the Central Green. As a result of regular crackdowns by Faction civil constables, the trade had a significant amount of attrition and a consequent influx of new entrepreneurs, which was very convenient for Prim.

She wandered along Skyline Walk until she saw one that she had never done business with and approached him with open interest. Sitting on the knee-high curb of a large fountain that featured stylized birds vomiting streams of water into a large caldron, the wiry, bearded man was ostensively eating a sandwich.

When the bootlegger's roving eyes spotted her, he popped up off the curb with a happy grin.

"Nice day. Looking for a duty free device?"

Before answering, the average person would have glanced around to make sure that no Faction agents were present, so she did so while feigning a slight nervousness, then gave a quick nod.

The man flicked his long coat open.

Prim scanned the merchandise. "Uhm, how much for the one-shot comm?"

"Thirty and that's my best price."

Haggling was expected. Failure to do so would leave an impression and she did not want the bootlegger to have a special reason to recall her. She spent ten minutes bargaining him down to twenty-three riels, which was still a price inflated threefold, even for a clean comm. As soon as she had the device, she activated it to make sure that it functioned, then abandoned the bootlegger on his curb without a farewell. After following a random path that took her out of sight of the plaza and the fountain, she ported to an aerial promenade on the opposite side of the city.

She had chosen this specific location because she had not visited it before and she knew that the pedestrian traffic was always sparse. She strolled for five minutes, pretending to admire but actually ignoring the splendid view of the lagoon. Having confirmed that she was not being followed, she then meandered to an isolated ornamental grape arbor and took a seat on a vacant pouredstone bench.

The memorized comm code that she tapped in was, like the comm, good only for a single use. As soon as it had connected, the reference would delete itself from both sending and receiving devices.

The connection completed immediately, but no response came forth.

She made a quick gesture that keyed a charm to make her voice sound both masculine and older, then spoke. "Orange, here. I have information."

The voice that replied had a neutral machine-like quality
"Nature of information?"

"Priority 8."

As the other voice paused, Prim took out her personal comm and watched the text bar as it read out
Deposit>10,000. Confirmation #2349809.

"Standard fee sent."

"I have encountered an individual of Primary Line 6."

"That line was extinguished. There must be an error."

"There is no error. I confirmed the genetic sequence by use of equipment."

A much longer pause ensued. Then,
"Provide current location of individual."

"Unknown. Individual was in custody of Investigative Section. He has now escaped. However, I can triangulate a general location by reading the diagnostics of the micro-nodes that were administered to him."

"Do so. Signal confirmation immediately when you are able to fix his position."

"This will be a time consuming process and I require the additional payment of a Priority 4 fee."

The voice did not hesitate.
"Agreed. Payment will be doubled if the individual is located within twenty-four hours."

The comm went dead.

As a happy couple too involved in each other to notice her occupied the adjacent bench, Prim stood up and moved away.

Always previously, these clients had negotiated keenly over any demands for additional payments. Their eagerness to accept her terms this time was worrisome.

When she came alongside a public oubliette, she jettisoned the one-shot comm without stopping. Once well out of sight of the bench, she ported home.

EIGHT

Mar froze, reading the background ether to try to discover the exact location of the speaker. The tone of the female voice had clearly made the designation "sorcerer" an epithet. Did that mean that she was no friend of the
Oaurlervy Faction
?

"I'm not a sorcerer," he said. "I'm a --" He stopped as he searched for a word in the Common tongue that conveyed the same meaning as
magician,
but could only find the difficult to pronounce and less significant "-- technician."

She made a scoffing sound. "And I'm a lace doily. Not wearing yellow does not change what you are."

He was sure of it now. The woman's contempt made it clear that she was not fond of the
Compliance Officers.

But that did not mean that she would not be inclined to reveal him to his pursuers.

Though he could not see her, he could easily make out her presence in the ether. It did not have the intensity of the chief questioner, but she was definitely
magenfolk,
to use Llylquaendt's term. Or, more specifically, she stirred an ethereal disturbance similar to that which Mar had noticed about the Pyrai
medic.
Though he could differentiate the weak spoil of several varied modulations in her ethereal presence, only one spell was currently active. He had to assume that this was the weapon that her attitude and words implied.

"I'm not of the Faction and I'm no threat to you," he said. "May I make a light?"

"Yes. Try any other spell and you're a dead man."

Pondering the confidence displayed by her quick reply, he cast his new lamp spell, keeping the illumination small, no brighter than a candle, and positioned it between himself and his assailant so that he would not be a backlit target.

The tunnel was as he had imagined with smooth, unmarked walls, and was otherwise empty.

The woman, on the other hand, was ... naked.

Or quite nearly so. Her clothing consisted of nothing more than a loose weave of bright red streamers and sheer blue ribbons and, while strategic locations were more or less obscured, "naked" certainly applied, for any practical purpose that might come to mind. With a slim frame, small breasts, a thin waist, and compact hips, she looked no older than himself. Her extravagant halo of hair, reinforced into a towering pile with bright pins and combs, was as green as a cabbage leaf.

He took special note of the fact that she wore no bracelets or other jewelry.

Her weapon, held with steady competence in her left hand, had a metal body and a tube, open end facing Mar, slung underneath.

"Nothings for sale, but it's all for rent," she told him without humor as she watched the movement of his eyes. "I doubt, though, that you could afford the price."

"You're a courtesan?"

"I suppose that that's a polite way of putting it." She smirked, still watching his face. "You look, but I can tell that you aren't interested. That's not a reaction that I can say that I have encountered before from a young man. Why is that?"

"I have a wife."

"That doesn't make a difference."

"It does for me."

She shrugged. "I've heard that before."

"I'm sure you have, but I don't really have time to chat, so if you don't mind, I'll be on my way."

Her weapon remained steady. "I can put six bolts into you before you take a single step."

He frowned, read the flux modulations of the device, devised a counter, and then took a challenging step toward her.