Bookworm II: The Very Ugly Duckling (50 page)

Elaine swallowed. She
liked
Johan; she didn’t like the thought of trying to kill him. But she understood what Dread meant; if Johan had gone mad with power, he had to be stopped before he could do significant damage to the city. If Kane had made the Empire shake on its foundations, what could Johan do?

“Yes,” she said, bitterly. She had barely given the matter much thought, but there were several definite possibilities. Johan was strong, but his strength was matched by weaknesses. “Set up a killing ward; he won’t sense it until he walks right into it. And then make sure it kills instantly.”

She scowled. “He can protect himself as long as he focuses on protection,” she added. “So you have to distract him if it comes down to a straight fight.”

“He isn’t invincible,” one of the Inquisitors said. “He can be killed.”

“He might also be our best hope with the ...
other
problem,” Elaine pointed out, addressing Dread. Was the Witch-King behind everything that had happened? If so, killing Johan might be the only way to stop him. But if he wasn’t, Johan might be their best weapon against the damned lich. “We need to try to talk him down.”

“I think he’s gone mad,” Dread observed. “And who can really blame him?”

Elaine eyed him, surprised. That was unusually understanding for an Inquisitor. They were normally more concerned about punishing breaches of magical law than understanding why they had taken place. But then, she knew, Johan might merely be the first in a whole new breed of magician. The other Powerless might have had power all along, only to be killed by their families before it emerged. Johan might be needed in the future for more than just the Witch-King.

“But he is making demands,” the other Inquisitor pointed out. “What happens when those demands are refused?”

And they would be, Elaine knew. Even the Grand Sorceress couldn’t force magicians into a position where they might lose their powers – and the ones Johan would definitely want to face, the Heads of the Great Houses, would definitely refuse to enter House Conidian. No, it was far more likely that the Grand Sorceress would open some of the forbidden tomes from the Black Vault and unleash dark magic on the house, Johan might not be able to survive some of the darker spells, no matter how carefully he protected himself. There would be consequences if the spells were used – if the city’s population saw them, magicians would start trying to duplicate their effects – but that might not matter.

It wouldn’t
, Elaine realised, bitterly.
Johan is threatening to shatter the very foundations of our society
.

She looked up at the other Inquisitor. “What about the rest of the family?”

“Still inside the house, we assume,” the Inquisitor said. He seemed doubtful about answering Elaine’s questions, but Dread nodded impatiently, convincing him to talk. “The only person to emerge was this ... puppet.”

He indicated Duncan Conidian. Elaine shivered, remembering just how badly Johan had been treated by his siblings. In hindsight, it was a miracle that he hadn’t gone completely mad with power the moment he’d realised he had it. Now ... with his friend presumed dead, he could torture his family in any way that pleased him. It was possible, she told herself, that the remainder of the family had been out of the house, but she knew it was unlikely. Most students wouldn’t have climbed out of bed until the sun was higher in the sky.

She reached into her pocket and touched the vial of blood. She’d planned to destroy it, once they’d sworn their oaths; the handful of charms she’d cast on the blood had revealed nothing of any significance. But it did suggest something else ...

Elaine closed her eyes, thinking it through. Johan’s magic was very good at dealing with direct threats. He could just imagine himself surrounded by an unbreakable barrier and he would be, at least until his concentration slipped. But there were more subtle forms of magic ... she considered the spells, one by one, then dismissed them. Johan deserved better from her than to be struck down by a cowardly spell. She needed to try to talk him down.

“I’m going to get in there,” she said, shortly. “Someone has to talk sense into his head.”

Dread gave her a long considering look. “You do realise that he may think that you’re someone
pretending
to be you?”

The other Inquisitor had a different objection. “The house is heavily warded,” he said. “We would need hours to break through the wards.”

Elaine wasn’t so sure. She might not be a powerful magician, but she had knowledge and precision – more of the former than any normal ward-maker or curse-breaker. Every ward had weaknesses, particularly the ones that had to allow multiple people to step through them without impediment. And she had a vial of Johan’s blood.

And she had his father. There were options. She just had to pluck up the nerve to use them.

“I think I can get in,” she said, willing Dread to believe her. “But I don’t know if I can take anyone else with me!”

Dread stepped away from her, pulling a tiny bracelet out of his pocket and putting it on. It was so unlike him to wear any form of jewellery that Elaine stared at it in surprise, but it still took her a moment to realise that a crystal ball was hidden amidst the gold. Dread started to mutter into it, too low for her to hear; his brother gave Elaine a long considering look, then stepped back and strode out of the tent.

“Very well,” Dread said, finally. He returned the bracelet to his pocket, then gave her a smile that was barely noticeable. “You’ll have your chance. But you won’t have long.”

Elaine nodded. Light Spinner was probably looking at the forbidden tomes right now, trying to find something that would allow her to end the crisis with a minimum of bloodshed – or anything so revealing that sorcerers would start work on trying to duplicate it. Elaine could have found her something, but she knew that she had to get to Johan first. The gods alone knew how much time she would be given before Light Spinner attacked.

“I’ll need him,” she said, indicating Duncan Conidian. “Can you help me get him outside.”

The wards felt ... strange, she realised, as they walked up to stand in front of the door. They crawled with magic, linked to aversion charms, jinxes and finally curses to deal with anyone persistent enough to brush aside the other effects, but there was something about them that was almost
alive
. She scowled as she reached out with her magic, wondering if the Conidian had broken the laws on creating magical artefacts that could actually
think
; there were too many horror stories about such devices for any breach of those laws to be taken lightly.

Or maybe they’re just confused
, she thought, as she probed them gently.
Their master isn’t dead, but he can no longer operate them; his Prime Heir isn’t any better. Who would be their master if both of them no longer have magic?

There was no way to know. Instead, she lifted her wand and cast the first spell, careful to keep one hand on Duncan Conidian at all times. He shuffled after her as she undid the first piece of the wards, then stepped through to challenge the second piece. Magic crackled around her as she pushed onwards; a single mistake, no matter how innocent, would see her revealed as an unwanted intruder. Sweat trickled down her back; she cast the next set of spells, closing her eyes to focus on the magic running all around her. The final ward rose up in front of her and she braced herself, then pushed Duncan Conidian forward. As she had hoped, the wards recognised their master’s blood and allowed them both to reach the door.

Inside, the magical energy died away to almost nothing. Elaine hadn’t been in many magical households, but she had expected more than
this
. She was almost disappointed; there should have been magic everywhere, blended into the stone, responsive only to the members of the family. But then, the Conidian Family was new to the city. It took years for a family home to become
theirs
. Carefully, she positioned Duncan Conidian somewhere where she hoped he would be safe – or at least stay out of the way – then started to advance down the corridor.

Elaine had barely gone any distance when she stumbled over the maid. She was naked, her feet clearly stuck to the floor; Elaine tapped her lips hastily when the maid stared at her, then knelt down beside her and tried to break the spell. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work. Her body had melded itself to the floor. It would require very precise magic to free her. If Johan died, Elaine realised grimly, the maid might be stuck there for the rest of her life. Most magic didn’t last that long without renewal; Johan, on the other hand, had ensured that more than magic held the maid prisoner.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she muttered. She wasn’t sure she dared try to use his blood as a guide when the wards might react – harshly – to such magic. “Do you know where he is?”

The maid pointed down the corridor towards a heavy wooden door. It was ajar, as if he were inviting her in ... or, more likely, that he simply hadn’t bothered to close it. Elaine could hear a low whimpering sound from inside, as if someone had been broken so completely they couldn’t even cry. A cold shudder ran through her body, but she forced herself to stand upright.

“Thank you,” she said.

Wand in hand, she advanced slowly towards the door.

Chapter Forty-Two

Mariah Conidian was a society beauty as well as a powerful magician. Everyone said so. She moved through the world with a smile on her face and time for everyone, apart from her children. Even Jamal, Johan knew, had had very little attention from their mother. The best that could be said of her was that she had never tormented Johan or sought to make him something he wasn’t. But then, she had spent most of her time just being beautiful.

Johan stared at her, feeling numb. His mother had used the most powerful cosmetic magic in the world to make herself almost inhumanly beautiful. There wasn’t a single mark on her face, nor was there anything to show that she had given birth to seven children. She could easily have passed for Charity’s sister rather than her mother, if Charity had spent half as much effort trying to make herself look pretty. It struck Johan, as he studied his mother, that Charity had been just as desperate to escape as Johan himself.

Of course she would
, he thought.
She knew what life awaited her if she stayed
.

“You never did anything,” he hissed, pushing the thought aside. “Why didn’t you say a word to your husband about the way he treated me?”

His mother gave him a vapid smile that sent a shiver running down his spine. “Because I didn’t care,” she said. Clearly, willing her to tell the truth had its own dangers. “I didn’t care about
any
of you. All I wanted was to be a society queen. That was the bargain I made with your father, when we were married.”

Johan stared at her. He’d never given serious thought to having children – his life before he’d discovered his powers had suggested that he would never have the chance – but surely he would have cared more for them than
that
! How could a woman who had spent nine months carrying a child to term just abandon him to the tender mercies of his siblings? And it hadn’t just been the lone Powerless either. Even Jamal had been abandoned by his mother.

“A worthless bargain,” Johan hissed.

His mother, for a moment, looked surprisingly serious. “Everyone has different ambitions in life,” she said. “Your father wishes to be a powerful sorcerer, a man who merely has to snap his fingers and everyone jumps to obey. Just because those ambitions are different doesn’t make them
wrong
.”

Johan stared at her in disbelief. “You abandoned your children because you wanted to be
popular
?”

“Power comes in many forms,” his mother said, sternly. “Don’t you, of all people, know that?”

“You’ll get your wish,” Johan said, feeling cold rage bubbling up within him. “You will be popular, all right, and even
pretty
.”

His mother’s form hardened, becoming stone. Johan examined the statue thoughtfully for a long moment, shaking his head wearily. His mother could be placed at the heart of the city, where everyone would admire her features, eternally preserved in stone. He had no idea if she was still aware, despite being stone, but if she were he knew she would appreciate what he’d done. There would be people coming from all over the world to see her.

The door opened. Johan turned in surprise; he’d thought he’d dealt with the rest of his siblings already. Charity hadn’t been too bad – he was inclined to release her, once the world had allowed him to judge the magicians – but the others would definitely be punished. And, once their punishments were over, they would have to earn back their powers. If they had picked on him as a child, they couldn’t be trusted with magic.

He stared as Elaine stepped into the room, wand clasped in her hand. For a moment, he froze in absolute disbelief; Elaine was dead, he’d seen her shatter into a million pieces. It had seemed utterly beyond even his powers to try to restore her; he’d read enough horror stories to know that he shouldn’t try to bring the dead back to life. She had to be an illusion, cast by a sorcerer who wanted to kill him. After what he’d done to his father, there would be no shortage of those.

“Johan,” Elaine said. The voice sounded right, he had to admit, but it
would
. There would be glamours built into the illusion to fool him into accepting it, despite any small discrepancies. “You have to stop this.”

***

Elaine hadn’t known what to expect when she entered the small office. Johan might be foaming at the mouth or coldly, calculatingly, plotting his takeover of the world. There was precedent for both of them, she knew; a magician whose magic was suddenly boosted was at grave risk of going mad. And she knew that Johan might well go the same way, even though he hadn’t even
been
a magician until recently.

But instead, he just looked sad. Sad, broken and determined.

“You’re not Elaine,” he snarled, glaring at her. If looks could kill – which was quite possible in his case – she would have been incinerated on the spot. “Whoever you are, you are not my friend.”