The unmage, p.20
The Unmage, page 20
“We won’t,” Kara said. “I won’t.” She’d lost her mother to Mage Guild, she wasn’t about to lose her brother. Mole must have seen the determination in her face, because he nodded and settled his back against a shelf.
“There are too many of us to continue searching for him safely,” Kara continued. “And some who are not trained to fight.” She inclined her head towards Barra. “That puts all of us at risk.”
“But Barra’s a Mage,” Mole said.
“Not fully trained,” Kara replied. “She is an asset, but her strength and talents are unknown. It’s the same with the Seyoyans.”
Reo turned to Barra. “Could you kill?” he asked the young woman. “With magic? Would you be able to kill someone you know—someone you think of as a friend? It may come down to that.”
Barra clutched Mole’s hand tighter, but she didn’t reply. Reo turned to his former Apprentice. “Kara is right. We need to get Barra and the Seyoyans off the island. You will take them to Old Rillidi. Santos, Kara, and I will find Timo.”
Chapter 13
HIS SHIVERING WOKE him up. Another violent spasm wracked Timo, and he clutched at the rough fabric that draped his shoulders, pulling it tighter. Faint light from the mage mist that blanketed him illuminated the aisle he lay in, rounds of cloth-covered cheeses stacked high. He sat up and pulled his knees into his body, trying to keep warm. He shivered again and rubbed an eye with his knuckle.
He stood and stretched out kinked limbs before he reached for the cheese nearest him, the one he’d cut into, and ripped another chunk off it.
He had no idea what time it was—or what day, for that matter, although he thought it couldn’t be much more than twelve hours since he and Mole had been separated. That would make it late afternoon or early evening. Almost time to emerge from his hiding place and resume his search.
He chewed slowly, forcing himself to swallow despite the dryness of his mouth. The cheese had some moisture, but it was also salty. He’d need water soon.
He swallowed the last bite and brushed his hands on the burlap wrapped around him. It was time to decide.
Ever since he and Mole had parted, he’d been wondering what the Assassin had done. If he thought Mole had taken the others off the island then Timo needed to leave as soon as he could—if he thought Mole was still here, he needed to keep looking for him. He shook his head. No matter how much he wished that Mole had safely left the island—hoped that following Mole’s trail would lead to a dock or a ferry—he didn’t think the Assassin would leave without him.
He tossed the rough burlap he’d wrapped himself in over the half-eaten cheese. While he was searching for Mole and the others, they would be looking for him. Should he stay in one place and hope they found him? It was dangerous travelling the corridors, even invisible, but he thought it even more dangerous to stay in one place. If he could use a spell to track Mole, somewhere there was a Mage with enough power left to use a spell to track Timo.
Startled by that train of thought, Timo hastened to the door. He’d been so used to waiting for evening that he hadn’t even considered, until now, that Mages would be more likely to search during the day. He had to leave this storage room right now.
He cracked the door open and peered into the hallway. It looked empty, at least from this vantage point. He cursed himself for not finding a room that was more out of the way, one that wasn’t on a main corridor. There was nothing he could do about that now.
He squeezed through the door and once in the hallway, closed it and leaned against it.
A ball of rust-red mage mist hovered a few feet away, and then suddenly a cloud of dense mage mist settled on him. When he tried to repel it, the spell tightened, the way Inigo’s curse had tightened around Rorik. Timo stopped struggling, and the spell loosened a little as it settled. It felt clammy and cool on his skin, and he couldn’t move.
There was a shout but he wasn’t able to turn his head to see who or what was coming. Timo carefully worked on the spell again, this time concentrating on slowly dissipating it. The mage mist started to thin—enough for him to turn his head. The council Mage who had investigated the workroom hurried towards him, trailed by two guards. And beyond them were Inigo and Hestor. Timo redoubled his efforts to remove the spell, and finally it fell away.
“That’s him,” Inigo yelled. “Get him. Now!”
Timo ran. He must have dispelled all of the spells on him, including his invisibility spell, because now his enemies could see him. He waved a hand at the ball of mage mist that hovered above his head. It faded to wispy strands of rust-red, and then it was gone.
Timo sped around a corner, skidding as he bumped into a Server. He careened off her and kept running, trying to reach the next corner before the guards caught up. He muttered the invisibility spell just as he reached the intersecting corridor. As soon as he rounded the corner he slowed and tried to calm his breathing.
He was in a major hallway now. It was wider than the one he’d left, and half a dozen Servers, carrying various bundles and baskets, travelled in both directions. He jumped in front of one, letting their footsteps cover the sound of his own. He looked back—the guards and the Mage were at the intersection, looking first in one direction, then the other, then again in the first direction. The Mage waved his hand and a ball of mage mist flew towards Timo. He flicked a hand and it thinned and disappeared. But he must have paused because the Server behind him bumped into him, dropping the basket he was carrying.
The Server shouted, and Timo grunted and stumbled to his knees. By the time he regained his feet, the Mage and the guards were halfway to him. A spell flew towards him, and Timo dove to the floor and slid along the wall. The spell slammed into the Server behind him, and the man gasped and fell. His head hit the flagstones with a sickening sound, and his body crumpled to the floor. The man’s eyes were wide open and vacant just a few inches from Timo.
Timo closed his eyes as bursts of mage mist swept past him down the hall, and Servers screamed as they attempted to flee.
The air smelled of singed cloth and burnt flesh. Steps came towards Timo, and he opened his eyes to see the guard turning over a body a few feet away.
“A woman,” the guard said, and straightened.
“And the others?” the Mage said. He stood a little behind the guard, a look of distaste on his face.
“Servers,” the guards said. “Server Guild will want compensation.”
“That’s Inigo’s problem,” the Mage said. “Not mine. He’s proclaimed himself Primus, and he told me to use whatever force I had to in order to stop Timo Valendi.” He looked down the hallway, his eyes sliding past the spot where Timo lay hidden by his spell. The Mage flicked his hand and then shook his head. “The finder spell isn’t here. The boy must have been able to evade it. Get someone else to clean this up and then follow me.” The Mage stepped past a body and headed off down the hall.
“Master Mage Jinaro,” the guard said. “I don’t think you should carry on by yourself.”
“Pah,” Jinaro said, turning around. “He’s just an Apprentice, and not a very powerful one, I hear. I’ll manage.”
“But Primus Inigo said . . .”
“Follow me when you’ve arranged to have this cleaned up,” Jinaro said. “That’s an order.”
“Yes, Master Mage,” the guard said. He stared after Jinaro as he strode down the hallway. “Inigo thinks the lad might have some of his sister’s skill,” the guard muttered. “It would serve you right if he took your magic away, like his sister did.” The guard headed towards the intersection of the corridors.
Timo sat up, rubbing his elbow where it had hit the floor. He should go before they came to remove the bodies. When that happened the corridor would be too busy for him to slip away unnoticed.
In the end Timo stayed where he was. He studied the dead Server beside him before casting a spell. Mage mist crawled over him, covering his body from head to toe. He looked down at his chest—like all spells, he saw through this one. He had to trust that it was working.
The corridor was empty. All the Servers had fled and no others had come this way since the Mage had attacked.
Timo removed the invisibility spell, leaving the second spell in place. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing—he had to trust his magic. Footsteps echoed down the hall, and he heard a guard giving instructions to remove the bodies.
Booted feet hurried past him—probably the guard trying to catch up to Jinaro. Good. The others might not know how many Servers had been killed, might not realize that there was one extra body. He felt himself being prodded by a boot.
“Let’s get this one,” a voice said from above. “Be careful, there’s a lot of blood.” Then he was grabbed by the arms and feet and half-carried, half-dragged down the hall. He was pushed onto a cart of some kind, where he lay with his face pressed against wood. Other weights—the bodies of the Servers who’d been killed—were piled in beside him. Eventually the cart started to move. He sucked in a breath, almost gagging on the smells of death that travelled with him—blood, piss, shit. He didn’t know where he was being taken but for now he was safe.
KARA LOOKED AROUND the room. She’d never been in her mother’s home—not even as a child. She trailed a hand along the top of a chair upholstered in velvet. There were a few books stacked on the table beside the chair. She opened the top one, and her eyebrows lifted in surprise. Her mother had been reading one of Santos’ old journals. She’d thought she’d hated the former Primus.
Reo entered the room, and she looked up and met his serious gaze.
“We have to wait for dark, of course,” Reo said. “Then we’ll see Mole and the others safely off. Santos thinks he can hurry the boat along without making it noticeable.”
Kara nodded. “And Barra Eska?”
“Santos is teaching her a few defensive spells,” Reo said. “He seems pleased.”
“And Barra?”
“She’s nervous, but determined.” Reo held out a hand, and Kara walked into his embrace. “I think she’s afraid to disappoint Santos.” He kissed the top of her head. “Mole hasn’t left her side.”
Kara sighed and settled into his warmth, enjoying the feel of Reo’s body against hers, enjoying this brief respite before they once more entered the dangerous corridors of Mage Guild Island.
They’d decided on her mother’s house because they were certain that it was empty. They also thought the council would have already looked for Timo here. Kara had removed a spell on the door that led up from the hallways below—one that was probably set to alert the Mage who cast it that the house had been disturbed. Then Santos had not simply spelled the door shut, he had blocked it from the inside. Anyone opening the door from the hallway would find a blank wall. And that would trigger a spell to let Santos know someone was there.
“Reo Medina, Kara Fonti,” Yash said formally from the doorway. “Santos Nimali has asked that you join him in the workroom.”
Kara sighed and stepped out of Reo’s embrace. He kept hold of her hand as they left the room.
Kara stood in the doorway with Reo, looking into the workroom. It was not a large space, and there were no windows so a couple of mage lights illuminated the room. Santos sat in a straight-backed wooden chair, and Barra sat on a small stool in front of him, her hands folded in her lap, pink mage mist trailing from her fingers. Mole stood by a plain fireplace, a scowl on his face. Kara felt Yash Samma back away from the room, and she smiled. She thought she knew what was coming and thought it wise for the Seyoyans to stay out of it.
“You are leaving with them,” Kara said.
Mole looked at her, startled, the scowl replaced by a pleading look.
“You have to, Mole.” She almost felt sorry for him. He’d thought he could argue with Santos, and maybe even Reo—but he knew he wouldn’t win against her.
“I came here to save Timo,” Mole said stubbornly. “I plan on doing that.”
“You’ve done your part,” Kara said, trying to soften the decision. “But your responsibilities changed when you and Timo decided to help the others. I have no doubt that you both willingly accepted that responsibility but with Timo gone you’re the only one who can fulfil it.”
“But . . .” Mole started. He paused to look over at Barra, who stared down at her hands. “You could take them to safety. That way I can stay and help Santos and Reo.”
“You know that won’t work.” Kara shook her head. “My skills will be needed here. Besides, although I want to help Barra, Yash, and Wuls, you’re the one who promised them. Am I right?”
Mole stared at her for a moment, clenching and unclenching his hands. Finally, he relaxed. “Yes. I did promise them. Timo and I both did.”
“That’s settled then,” Reo said. “We’ll help you as much as we can, then it will be up to you to get them all to Old Rillidi.”
THE CART HAD been stationary for a while, and the men who’d pulled it had shuffled off. Judging it safe, Timo opened his eyes and lifted his head. Disturbed by his movements, flies scattered and buzzed in circles around the contents of the cart, looking for a place to land. He flicked a hand to shoo them away from his face. He’d become used to the smell of the corpses but when he lifted his head, a cool wind ruffled his hair, and he gulped in fresh, salty air.
The cart took up most of the space in the small room. The stones of the floor and walls were rougher than those of the corridors, and green moss grew in the corners. The wooden braces of the cart rested on the top of a wooden half door. From beyond came the sounds of water lapping at wood.
He sat up. Beneath his spell, his clothing was mottled with blood. Not as much as the spell had covered him with, but this was real—black and sticky and slightly coppery smelling. He looked over at the bodies of the Servers. Four dead, all because of him. He shook his head, his lips tight—he wasn’t the one who’d recklessly sent killing spells down a hallway full of people. He wasn’t the one who’d killed them. But he was sad that they had died, that the spells meant to kill him had instead killed them. But he didn’t regret that he was still alive.
Now he knew for certain that Mage Guild wanted him dead. That made other decisions easier. If he came across Jinaro—or Inigo or Hestor—he’d have to be ready to kill them. If he was the enemy of Mage Guild, then all Mages were his enemy. He took a deep breath and thought of Mole’s face when he’d returned from killing Faron. He’d have to be like that, cold and calculating. He could do it, he hoped.
Timo eased himself up and out of the cart. Once on the ground, he undid the spell that disguised him as a dead Server and cast the one to make him invisible.
He leaned out over the half door. The dark water below him looked cold, and he didn’t see a boat. Far off, a mage light illuminated a shabby dock, and even further away he thought he saw a difference in the colour of the water. Was he close to the edge of the island? Could he make it out from underneath it safely?
He ducked into the room. He might be able to get away but he had to find Mole and the others. He’d promised. He sidled around the wagon until he was in front of the wide doorway that led back into the hallways and corridors. He peered out. The rough hallway was dark, which hopefully meant it was empty. Through the gloom he saw a short hall that ended in a closed set of double doors. A sliver of light seeped out from under the doors.
He crept into the hall, keeping his back to the wall as he slowly made his way to the door. Mage mist from his spell illuminated each step, helping him avoid the loose stones and bits of wood that littered the floor. When he was halfway there, the light coming from under the door changed. It was no longer steady—now it bobbed and flickered—and it was getting brighter.
Timo flattened himself against the wall as footsteps scuffed the uneven floor. The wooden doors rattled before one side swung open and mage light spilled in. By the time Timo’s eyesight adjusted to the light, the man carrying it was beside him.
Small and wiry, the middle aged man shut the door behind him. The Server Guild crest was prominent on his chest but his clothing was a better cut and quality than that of the dead Servers in the cart. Timo stayed pressed against the wall as the man walked past him towards the wagon. He heard an inarticulate cry of grief before the man raised his voice.
“Gyda cursed Mages,” the man spat. “Throwing their spells around, killing good honest Guildsmen. We’ll make ’em pay, don’t you worry. Oh no!” Even more grief tinged the man’s voice. “Vina, not you!” His voice broke into a sob. “I’ll pull the Guild from this island, that’s what I’ll do.”
There were rattling sounds and then a gust of salty air swept past Timo.
“We’ll get you home first,” the Server said. “Then I’ll tell the Guild to pull us all off.”
Waves slapped against wood, and something bumped into the wall.
“Straighten that boat up,” the Server called out. “I’ll bring the whole cart across.”
“How many?”
“Four,” the Server said. He stepped in front of the cart and picked up the poles. He grunted as he started to drag the cart out of the room. In a few minutes the half door was closed. Gruff voices talking in low tones faded, and then there was silence. Timo waited a few more moments before making his way to the double doors. He tugged one side open and stepped out into the hallway.
If Server Guild really did remove all of their Guildsman from Mage Guild Island it would cause chaos. Let the men who ran the council live without both magic and Servers! He could only hope that both situations lasted a long time. He paused at the thought of power returning to the Mages, especially Inigo and the rest of the council. He had to find Mole and get them all off the island before that happened.
KARA FOLLOWED SANTOS down to the dock. Santos’ green mage mist enveloped a small boat and cast a greenish glow over Reo, Santos, and Mole.
“The boat’s ready,” Santos said. “Time to make their path a little darker.” He flung a spell out across the water. Mage mist slowly wound its way past the docks and boats that were scattered throughout the darkness.
