Bookworm II: The Very Ugly Duckling (7 page)

“But if you’re related to Duncan Conidian,” Elaine said, out loud, “why didn’t you defend yourself?”

Maybe he couldn’t
, her own thoughts answered her.
No wand, no school robes ... and you never saw him in the Great Library. What does that suggest?

She shivered. Not seeing him in the library proved nothing; she wasn’t sociable enough to wander the halls and reading rooms, chatting to students. That was
Vane’s
job. Added together, however, it was starting to suggest a very disturbing picture. Absently, she tried to find out why the young man was still asleep and found nothing. She couldn’t help remembering the days after she’d been turned into a Bookworm. She’d been stunned for several days too.

There was a knock at the door, which opened to reveal Dread. The Inquisitor looked as stony-faced as ever, but Elaine knew him well enough to realise that he was tired and not entirely happy with the world. Elaine cancelled her charms and looked over at him, wondering what he’d found out. And, for that matter, just what had happened outside the palace.

“His name is Johan, Johan Conidian,” Dread said. His voice was almost devoid of emotion, another sure sign that he was more tired than he wanted to let on. “And he’s a Powerless.”

Elaine shook her head. “There’s magic in there,” she said. “Very odd magic, but it is there.”

She scowled as Dread started to cast his own charms, feeling a moment of pity for the young man. The Conidian Family was powerfully magical; if Johan was genuinely powerless, his life must have been hellish. Elaine might have been a low-power magician, but she was still a magician. A Powerless wouldn’t be
any
sort of magician ... and, born to a magical family, would get absolutely no respect. No
wonder
he’d been transfigured so often. His brothers and sisters must have thought of him as a permanent target for their pranks.

The Peerless School encouraged a limited amount of pranks – Elaine thought of it as bullying – in the hopes it would provide incentive for the prank victims to study and develop their magic. But all such pranks were supposed to be carried out
in
the school ... and targeted on other student magicians. Targeting a Powerless, one who couldn’t defend himself at all, was just
evil
. But it seemed that the Conidian had allowed it to happen. Had he thought, Elaine asked himself, that repeated pranks would encourage his son to develop magic? Or had he merely hated the living evidence of weakness in his bloodline?

Dread finished casting charms and stepped backwards. “Wonderful,” he said, sardonically. “The last time I saw anything like this was when I first met you.”

Elaine remembered. “But he wasn’t in the Great Library when it happened,” she pointed out, keeping her voice calm. Magical accidents that boosted – or weakened – someone’s power were rarely good news. There were times when she still marvelled that she had been allowed to wake up, after becoming a Bookworm. “I don’t think that any such spell could have affected him.”

“I do not know if that would make a difference,” Dread countered. “And what has happened to him now?”

“Unknown,” Elaine said, tersely. All the knowledge in her head seemed useless. There were plenty of cases where trauma affected a person’s magic, but they had all required the victim to be a magician. Johan ... had
never
been a magician. He hadn’t even had the signs that Elaine had shown, back in the orphanage. “He had no magic. Now ... he has magic inside him.”

Dread lifted his staff, then tapped its iron tip on the floor. “What is he going to become?”

“I don’t think that you should kill him now,” Elaine said, quickly. “This is utterly unprecedented.”

“So is what happened to you,” Dread reminded her, “and you know who was behind it.”

Elaine shivered. The Witch-King ... did
he
have something to do with Johan’s accident? But there was no way to be
sure
, one way or the other. For all they knew, it was Johan’s grandchildren who would be the essential part of the Witch-King’s plot.

“I think that the Grand Sorceress should make that decision,” Elaine said. She knew that Dread had the authority to kill, if he believed that the Empire’s security was at risk, but she didn’t want to see Johan dead. If nothing else, what had happened to him might revolutionise the study of magic. He had been Powerless ... and if he’d developed magic, it would change the world. “What happened outside?”

Dread’s face twisted into a grim scowl. “A bunch of magicians, mainly students, attacked the Leveller rally,” he said. “So far, we have nineteen dead, thirty-seven injured, twelve forced transfigurations and thirteen people suffering the after-effects of various compulsion charms.”

Elaine shuddered. She knew, all too well, just how vulnerable non-magicians were to magic, even if they had purchased protective amulets and spells from magicians. Even student magicians could have inflicted considerable harm on the protesters ... and they had, it seemed. By the time Light Spinner had intervened, they’d killed nineteen mundanes.

She gritted her teeth. “Who did it?”

“We’re still putting together a case,” Dread said. “The Grand Sorceress is not happy. No matter what the Levellers were doing – or saying – such attacks cannot be tolerated. However, we don’t have any real idea just
who
carried out the attack. The witnesses all agree that they used disguise charms to obscure their faces. They didn’t even bother to come up with actual
faces
; they just ensured that no one could see their features.”

Elaine rubbed her eyes, suddenly feeling very tired. She knew what would happen now; if they hadn’t been caught in the act, the perpetrators would swear blind that they were innocent ... and, as they probably had magical relatives, they would bring colossal pressure to bear on Light Spinner to let them off with a slap on the wrist. If, of course, there was enough proof to bring them to face her in the first place. Few magical families would care if their children killed – directly or indirectly – a handful of mundanes. What were
they
going to do about it?

“The last thing we need is another challenge to the Grand Sorceress’s authority,” Dread added. “We may wind up quietly ignoring the whole affair.”

“I know,” Elaine said.

She’d thought that the Grand Sorcerer was all-powerful. It hadn’t been until she’d joined the Privy Council that she’d realised that there were limits, particularly when other powerful magicians – or magical families – were involved. Even the most powerful magician in the world would have hesitated to confront several families acting in concert ... and they
would
, if they believed that their children were in danger. Light Spinner might be unable to get anything done if the families chose to challenge her openly.

And, with the Empire already weakened by Kane, the last thing they needed was the suggestion that the Grand Sorceress couldn’t keep order. It would undermine the Empire’s stability further ... she scowled as she remembered her last letter from Bee. He’d told her that his mistress, the Empress of the South, had been asking him for his impressions of the Grand Sorceress and openly questioning her ability to handle the task of running the Empire.

“I’ll concentrate on Johan,” she said, finally. “Can you interview his family? See what they make of the whole affair?”

“Once I get some free time,” Dread said. He turned and started to walk towards the door. “If we can catch the perpetrators red-handed, it might be harder for them to hide behind their families.”

Elaine nodded, then turned back to Johan as Dread left the room.

“What are you?” she asked. There was no reply, apart from the steady rise and fall of his chest. “And what are you becoming?”

Chapter Six

Johan felt ...
weird
.

It was an odd sensation, one that seemed to twist and turn through his head, making it impossible for him to even get a grip on what it actually
was
. He thought he had a headache, save that there was no pain; it was almost as if he were
dreaming
that he had a headache. But there was something very wrong in his head ...

Johan had nightmares regularly, but this was different. There was a sense of reality that was lacking in his other nightmares, a sense that he couldn’t escape no matter what he did. In a way, he was almost
aware
that he was dreaming ... and, at the same time, he was convinced that he
wasn’t
dreaming. There was a sudden stab of pain, so painful that he screamed ...

... And then he snapped awake.

His head suddenly hurt as light blazed down from high overhead. Stunned, he squeezed his eyes shut as daggers seemed to plunge through his eyeballs and into his skull. He tried to recall what had happened, but nothing came to mind. Had one of his siblings played a trick on him ... or had something else happened? His memory seemed to have failed him, although it was hard to concentrate. Pain ... and something
else
... seemed to be coiling in his mind, burning through his thoughts. He just wanted to roll over and die.

“Johan,” a voice said. It was soft, female ... and completely unfamiliar. “Can you hear me?”

Johan felt his entire body twisting in pain. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again as his stomach heaved violently. By all the gods! It was worse than when he’d caught that bug as a young man and spent two weeks in bed with cramps ... his siblings, of course, had escaped entirely, thanks to their magic. Had he been ill? Or had something else happened, something his mind refused to remember?

“Yes,” he managed, finally. The urge to retch was growing stronger and stronger. “I ... sick ...”

He open his eyes. The light had dimmed, thankfully, but he could still see two anxious faces peering down at him. One wore the white robes of a druid, complete with golden sickle on his belt; the other wore the purple robes of a Privy Councillor. Johan found himself coughing instead of laughing, even though seeing her was funny. What sort of Privy Councillor would come to investigate a mere Powerless? A moment later, he retched violently, but there was nothing in his stomach to throw up. It was no relief.

“You’ve had a bit of a nasty blow, young man,” the druid said. His voice made him sound ancient, but that was rather reassuring. Incompetent magicians didn’t last long. “How are you feeling?”

“Head hurts,” Johan managed. His chest hurt too. “Throat dry. I ...”

“Here,” the druid said, passing him a flask of clear liquid. Johan sipped it gratefully, recognising the taste of purified water. The water made his head feel better, although
something
was still pounding away inside his skull. It was funny; he almost felt as though he were outside his body, looking in. “How much do you remember ...?”

As if the question had unlocked memoires he’d pushed aside, Johan suddenly remembered
everything
. The Levellers, the rally, Jamal ... and something that had unlocked itself inside his skull. He reached up to touch his head, feeling it throbbing lightly, as a desperate hope suddenly blossomed to life inside his mind. What if ... what if he’d developed
magic
? No matter how much he’d fought before, he had never broken out of any of Jamal’s spells. Even the weakest compulsion had held him in thrall until the spell was lifted.

But it seemed too good to be true.

“Jamal,” he said, suddenly. “He was at the rally and ...”

The Privy Councillor leaned forward. “Your brother was one of those who attacked the rally?”

Johan found himself staring at her. She was young – he doubted that she was much older than Jamal – yet there were lines on her mousy face that suggested that she was older than her years. It was hard to credit the fact that she was a Privy Councillor, but who else would dare wear purple outside the house? There were
laws
against wearing robes if there was no claim to them.

“Yes,” he said, sourly. Memories of horror rose up in front of his eyes, mocking him. Jamal wouldn’t be punished, of course. He was
never
punished when he was cruel to outsiders, or even to his siblings. “He and his friends attacked the rally.”

The druid waved his wand at Johan. “And what happened to you?”

“I don’t know,” Johan admitted. He described what had happened as best as he could, ending with the sudden collapse of Jamal’s spell. “What do
you
think happened to me?”

“I wish I knew,” the druid said. He looked at the Privy Councillor. “Medically, he’s fine, although I would suggest two more days in bed for observation. I don’t know enough about his ...
other
condition to comment. This is completely unprecedented.”

The Privy Councillor didn’t seem surprised. “I’ll see to him,” she said, as the druid started to walk towards the door. “Do you have any other advice?”

“Get a witness statement from him,” the druid said.

Johan watched him leave the room, then turned his head so he could look at the Privy Councillor. “My Lady,” he said, carefully, “what happened to me?”

The Privy Councillor seemed oddly bothered by the formality. Johan felt a moment of panic – his father had drilled etiquette into him, but he hadn’t really expected his powerless son ever to have to meet a Privy Councillor – and wondered if he had gotten it wrong, before pushing the thought aside. No doubt it was about to be explained to him in great detail just
where
he had gone wrong.

“My name is Elaine,” the Privy Councillor said. Now the druid was gone, her voice seemed to relax slightly. “I don’t really need such formality.”

Johan studied her for a long moment. There was none of the style his mother affected, none of the confidence that Charity strove to project at all times ... and there was no family name. That meant ... what? No family? But any family would be proud to have a Privy Councillor in the family. They were always powerful magicians as well as the trusted friends and confidants of the Grand Sorcerer. Or at least everyone took them to be the Grand Sorcerer’s friends. He had his doubts about how close his father was to the Grand Sorceress.