Black Coven (Daniel Black Book 2) (15 page)

              “Ouch. Sounds like I should take a look at her at some point.”

              “Or you could stay away from her, and not get yourself cursed on top of everything else,” Avilla suggested.

              The meeting started then, so I didn’t get a chance to reply.

              Interestingly enough, no one sat in the throne. The seating arrangements were clearly based on rank, with High Adept Steelbinder and a couple of other guys in especially fancy robes at one end of the table and the rest filled with lesser personages. The benches seemed to be for junior mages, high-ranking retainers and visitors, which told me something about Carl and Mara’s standings around here. But there were an ominous number of empty seats around the table.

              I’d half-expected a gathering of wizards to be some dazzling affair full of magic and mystery, and the spectral figure that materialized at the foot of the throne and called the meeting to order certainly supported that idea. But as it began methodically calling on members to stand and deliver various updates I realized the truth. People are people, whether they have magic or not, and this was basically a status meeting.

              Apparently there was a fixed order of business at these meetings, and the weekly reports of the Conclave’s department heads were the first order of business. So I got to sit and listen to various adepts drone on about supplies of magical materials (decent) and provisions (enough for a 3-year siege), the readiness of the Red Guard (poor but improving), golem maintenance and half a dozen other less interesting topics for the better part of an hour.

              I tried to stay awake, and learn what I could. The names of the department heads could be important, and their reports offered some insight into how the Conclave was organized. Apparently running a department was considered a mid-level job, since the heads were all men in their thirties or forties but none of them were High Adepts. I gathered that there was some kind of executive council for the big shots, but major decisions often required a vote of the full assembly to ratify. There were a couple of those during the status reports, over various minor-seeming policy adjustments. But I got the impression those were a formality, since there was no debate and the votes were generally unanimous.

              Then the reports were finished, and the floor was opened to new business. The High Adepts exchanged looks, and then the oldest man at the table slowly stood.

              “The chair recognizes High Adept Elias Ward,” the shadowy form at the foot of the empty throne intoned.

              His robes were as fine as any in the room, and his staff was an intricate construction of metal and crystal bearing a dizzying array of enchantments. But only a few thin wisps of hair were left on his head, and his features were shriveled with age. He leaned heavily on his staff as he stood, and took a moment to gather himself before speaking.

              “I have completed my investigation of the attack on the weather-working,” he announced. A stir went through the chamber, momentarily drowning out his thin, reedy voice. He waited for it to subside before continuing.

              “As we all know, the guardian golems of the upper spire failed to activate when the circle was attacked. Initially we thought they had been sabotaged somehow, or that the attack was simply hidden from them by illusion. But my assistants and I have exhaustively analyzed the enchantments on the guardians, and in each case they were deactivated with the proper words of command less than an hour before the attack. There can be only one conclusion.”

              “Gentlemen, there is a traitor among us.”

              Ward’s announcement caused a considerable stir, but again the room quieted quickly. He nodded gravely, and went on.

              “The doors to the upper spire were unlocked by someone who had access to the proper key, and the guardians were commanded into inaction. The human guards outside the door to the ritual chamber raised no alarm before they were attacked, and the sergeant of the watch had opened his log book in preparation for recording a visit. Clearly they recognized whoever approached their position, and expected no trouble.”

              “They were then killed before they could realize the golems were inactive, and call for help. The actual attack was carried out by a large magical beast of considerable power, but the details of the damage do not fit any creature on record. It had the strength to rend chain mail like cloth, fiery breath hot enough to melt iron, and some means of defense against enchanted swords. Our colleagues in the bestiary have determined that it was a quadruped with red fur, likely twice the weight of a heavy warhorse, with a narrow mouth and the teeth of a carnivore. Based on the magical residues it seems likely the creature had been transformed into a more innocent shape and was released to attack the guards.”

              “More puzzling, however, is the condition of the chamber door. High Adept Thunderbolt was leading the weather circle in a difficult performance that day, and had ordered the chamber doors locked and sealed until they were finished. When the ritual was interrupted the resulting backlash did considerable damage to the room, and at first we thought the doors had simply been smashed open. But on closer examination I find that the locking enchantments are simply shattered, in a fashion I have never seen before. The iron bolts that should have held the doors shut were found in the open position, but all the other protective enchantments were intact. I have no good explanation for how the doors were opened.”

              There was another commotion. I took advantage of the interruption to stand.

              “I believe I can shed some light on that,” I announced over the din.

              The old man turned to study me for a moment, and nodded once.

              “The chair recognizes Wandering Adept Daniel Black,” the shadow announced.

              I took a deep breath, and tried to pretend I was back in debate club as dozens of faces turned towards me. No pressure.

“As some of you have probably heard, I encountered one of Jormungandr’s grandsons on my recent expedition to clear a path to the sea for our shipping. He knew my name and expected to find me there, which is more evidence that our enemies have an agent in Kozalin. But he also claimed that Loki and Gaea have a daughter. A demigoddess they call the Unraveler, for her power to open locks and shatter bindings. Raised in secret until she was old enough to free her father, and venture into Tartarus to release the monsters imprisoned there. Now she’s in Kozalin with a band of monsters at her back, on a mission to sunder the Bifrost Veil and open the way to Asgard.”

“Obviously I can’t confirm any of this, but if it’s true it would explain what happened to those wards.”

“Are we supposed to believe some monster?” One of the adepts near the foot of the table scoffed.

“What were you doing talking to it?” Another one shouted. “Are you in league with them?”

I raised the stump of my missing arm. “Our conversation didn’t stay polite for long. He was trying to convince me to leave Kozalin instead of aiding in its defense, and when I refused he tried to kill me.”

As I’d hoped, my injury served to derail any suggestions that I might be working with Loki’s forces. Although I found it interesting that no one seemed to seriously doubt my claim to have fought a sea serpent and survived. Either I had more of a reputation than I’d thought, or their battle mages got a lot more powerful than Carl.

There was a long debate in the wake of Ward’s revelation, although as a non-member I didn’t take much part in it. The general consensus seemed to be that the ‘Unraveler’ business was probably true, since the gods wouldn’t let someone get away with lying about being their child. But she was unlikely to be working alone.

“A spark of divine power would quickly be revealed by our wards,” Steelbinder pointed out. “So she isn’t likely to risk exposing herself more than necessary. But we all know how Loki collects hidden cults of human supporters. No doubt she has an agent here who helped her infiltrate the Citadel, and there may be more in the city. We certainly haven’t had time to screen the refugees.”

After some discussion a proposal was raised to have Ward continue his investigation, in hopes of identifying the spy. It passed almost unanimously, but he cautioned against expecting instant results.

“Any agent canny enough to arrange the attack on the weather circle is not going to give himself away with foolish mistakes. I can clear some of our members of suspicion quickly, but working through the rest will be a slow process. In the meantime, I suggest that we take more active measures to reduce the chance of another attack.”

Steelbinder nodded. “Yes. We can start by re-keying the golems, and keep the new control words a more guarded secret.”

“What about the obvious suspects?” Someone suggested.

“Yes, we can’t have anyone questionable wandering about in sensitive areas at a time like this,” another agreed. “We should lock down the inner citadel.”

“Why stop there? Send those Russian mercenaries back where they came from!”

“The faeries too!”

That opened the floodgates, and for the next half hour I was treated to a rather disgusting spectacle of mindless intolerance. The Conclave had all sorts of allies and associates across Europe, many of whom had taken refuge here when Fimbulwinter began. But humans are naturally xenophobic, and with no clear culprit to punish for the attack the Conclave’s rank and file wanted a scapegoat to lash out at.

The High Adepts seemed to have a more nuanced view of the situation, and managed to stop things from turning into a complete witch hunt. But they had to give the crowd something. The final vote was to tighten security around sensitive parts of the Citadel, restrict the entry of the Conclave’s human allies, and banish all nonhumans from the Citadel for the duration of the emergency.

“What about Elin?” One of the department heads asked. “Don’t we still have that agreement with the Summer Court?”

The girl flinched, and shrank into her seat.

“Yes,” Steelbinder answered. “We’re obligated to care for her until she turns thirty, barring a few narrow escape clauses that seem unlikely to arise. She’s made it this long without eating anyone, so she’s hardly likely to start now. But the agreement doesn’t say we have to quarter her in the Citadel. I know the inns are all full, but I’m sure we can find someplace to put her. Grendelkin are sturdy creatures, so I suspect even a stable would do. Isn’t that right, Elin?”

She hung her head. “Yes, sir. But I’ll die if I can’t focus my magic on fighting this curse.”

Her voice was meek enough, but I could see her knuckles were white where they gripped the iron bench. I frowned. It really wasn’t my problem. I had enough things to worry about.

“Small loss,” someone grumbled behind me. “Not like she can heal anymore.”

I stood. “I can take her in.”

Steelbinder turned an astonished look my way. “Why would you wish to do that? You do know what she is, Adept Black?”

“She’s a healer,” I replied. “In my land that would be reason enough.”

He frowned. “I see. Even if she can no longer heal?”

I shrugged. “Maybe we can find a cure for that, if we work together. But even if we can’t, I’ve got plenty of room.”

“Very well. All in favor of passing stewardship of Elin to Adept Black for the duration of the emergency?”

The vote passed easily.

“What are you doing?” Avilla hissed in my ear when I sat down. “What if it’s catching?”

“Then I’ll put her in quarantine,” I whispered back. “Get a grip, Avilla. I can see the magic on her, remember?”

She flushed. “I’m sorry, Daniel. I just want us to finally be safe.”

I patted her hand and turned to Cerise, who seemed a bit concerned for Avilla but otherwise unperturbed. “Go help the poor girl get her things before the meeting ends, will you? I bet she won’t be able to get to her room once that vote is announced, and these people are perfectly capable of tossing her out with nothing but the clothes on her back.”

She flashed me an amused smile. “So we’re collecting stray kittens now? Sure boss, I’ll get her squared away.”

She slipped down to whisper in Elin’s ear as the discussion turned to what to tell the prince about the situation. Elin eyed me warily, but something Cerise said got her attention. She gave the dark-haired witch an incredulous look, and touched her tail. Cerise grinned, and whispered something else. Finally Elin nodded, and the pair quietly made their way out of the chamber.

The meeting dragged on interminably. But at least now the wizards were discussing relevant issues instead of paper-pushing, and I learned a good bit about their plans. Everyone was expecting a more determined assault to appear at some point, and making preparations accordingly. The war-wizards were setting up some sort of secret dragon slaying spell, and charging up heavy fire support spells to deal with giants and goblin hordes. A team of artificers were enchanting a squadron of heavy golems with some sort of fast movement spell so they could be used as a reaction force the next time the city wall was breached, and another group was reinforcing the city’s defensive enchantments.

Interestingly, they voted to assign command of that mobile golem squadron to Carl. Apparently it was a step up for him, because he grinned excitedly and his sister clapped him on the back. But then the subject turned to me.

There was a quick vote to confirm my status as an “Associate” of the Conclave, which I’d expected. Then Steelbinder brought up the fact that the speed of their enchantment work was primarily limited by the ability of their artisans to raise enough mana, and asked if I could help with that.

“Not yet,” I said reluctantly. “My mana tap technique is still experimental, and it relies on some very exotic magic. It would probably take months to teach someone else how to do it, and it’s the kind of thing where even a small mistake tends to be lethal. I’m working on turning it into an enchantment, so I can make items that act as a mana source. But I have a lot of work to do to reach that point, and a lot of other demands on my time.”

“How does it work?” A svelte brunette near the foot of the table asked.

“Don’t be rude, Tova,” the man next to her scoffed. “No one would be witless enough to just blurt out a secret like that.”

“Indeed,” Ward said dryly. “Unlimited mana could be the founding mystery of a mighty clan. But you intend to share the fruits of your research?”

I nodded. “Yes. To be honest, in different circumstances I’d be tempted to keep it a secret and go take over a kingdom or something. But with Ragnarok in progress we need to pull together if we’re going to have any chance of surviving. Obviously I’m going to set up my own people first, but I figure anything I can do to strengthen Kozalin’s defenses is to my benefit.”

“Mind you, it isn’t actually unlimited power. I’ve found that there’s still a limit to how long I can channel the power before the strain becomes too much, and even the best healing can only delay that point for so long. It’s very useful for powering large-scale magic, but you have to be careful not to overdo it.”

Normally I’d have been reluctant to share even that much information with a group as untrustworthy as the Conclave, but in this case I figured it would be wise to make sure my image didn’t get too overblown. If they decided I was too dangerous a competitor they’d take steps to deal with me, and I had no idea what sneaky assassination methods a group of wizards might have developed over the centuries. Better to maintain good relations for as long as possible, even if it did grate sometimes.

“What kind of price are you going to demand?” Steelbinder asked. “If you can perfect the process I expect we’ll want several ritual chambers enchanted, and I’m sure many of our members would be interested in a personal implement if the price isn’t too dear.”

“Hell, I’d trade my granddaughter for tool like that,” one of the older wizards commented.

“I’d trade both my daughters,” Tova agreed fervently. “A stable power supply would be a godsend for my work.”

I shook my head. “Intriguing as that sounds, my needs lie more in the areas of money and supplies. But I’ll have to finish my research before I can set a firm price. I don’t want to negotiate on the assumption that it will be a quick enchantment and then discover I’ll need weeks to make each implement. All I can say at this point is that while I do intend to profit from my discovery I don’t plan to make my prices too exorbitant.”

“I see. Well, I suppose we’ll have to table the issue until then,” Steelbinder said. “I trust you’ll limit access to the Conclave and your own people?”

“Of course,” I agreed. I wasn’t about to let something that dangerous get out into general circulation. I was nervous enough about letting the Conclave’s upper ranks have it, considering that they might decide to use it against me someday.