With a deep breath, Timo slowly pushed the door open. The light from his mage mist exposed a few steps—then it was gone, leaving the stairs in darkness. After a quick scan of the hallways behind him, he stepped through the doorway and onto the steps. The mage mist from the spell that kept him invisible cast an eerie glow as he started to climb the stairs.
He counted a total of twenty-two steps before he was blocked by a solid wood door. Faint mage mist traced the outline of it but the spells were old and not very strong. With a quick wave, they faded to nothing.
He pushed the door, eventually leaning his whole body against it before it shuddered open enough for him to squeeze through.
He was in yet another dusty storeroom. The dim light from mage mist revealed discarded furniture stacked almost to the ceiling. He pushed the door shut and dragged a broken table in front of it to hide the tracks in the dust. There was a second door on the opposite side of the room. He crept across to it and pressed his ear against the wood.
Muffled sounds came from the other side of the door. Timo slid down to the floor. It would be morning by now, and if he was in someone’s living quarters the household would be rising for the day. He tried to swallow but his tongue was thick in his parched mouth. He needed water now. He could not wait until the night, when the house was settled.
Timo strengthened his invisibility spell and gently opened the door. The hallway was empty, so on hands and knees he scuttled out and quietly shut the door behind him. With his back to the wall, he stood, took a step towards an open doorway, and peered in.
He pulled his head back in shock. It wasn’t a kitchen, and there were no Servers. He craned his neck to see into the room again.
“If you tell me what I want to know I’ll let your friends go,” a man said roughly. His back was to the door but Timo recognized the thatch of blond hair and the arrogant voice—Faron, one of the council members. He also recognized who he was speaking to. Mole.
Mole called out in a language Timo recognized as Seyoyan. There was a faint response from beyond another door before Faron’s fist plowed into Mole’s right cheek and the Assassin’s head snapped back.
“You can do better than that,” Mole said. He looked up at Faron, his right eye already starting to close. “Or maybe you can’t. Kara took away your magic, and you’re weak without it.”
Faron’s arm rose again.
“Stop,” a woman said, and Timo was startled when Barra walked into view. “He’s trying to make you angry.”
“Don’t tell me what he’s trying to do!” Faron turned towards Barra, furious. “I want to know how that witch did it, how she drained a room full of the most powerful Mages in Tregella of their magic.”
“Why would he know?” Barra said. “He’s not a Mage.”
“No,” Faron said quietly. “He’s not. And neither is she. So how did she do it?”
When he turned to watch Mole, Timo saw that he was being held by spells. Pink mage mist wrapped around his arms and legs, securing him to the chair he was sitting in. The chair was anchored to the floor with more pink mage mist—Barra’s colour.
Timo frowned. How had she gone so quickly from trying to secure her Journeyman position to capturing and torturing a man? And what did they mean, Kara took away magic? Could it be done? Then he noticed the line of pink mist that connected Barra to Faron. He’d asked Barra about it but she’d claimed there was no spell. Barra took a step away from Faron and the mist stretched but still tethered the two together.
Without thinking, Timo waved a hand towards the pink mist. It wavered, and Faron glanced around in surprise.
“What was that?” he asked, peering around the room.
“I didn’t hear anything,” Barra said.
Timo held his breath, not daring to even move enough to duck outside the room. Faron spun around, his right arm in the air, faint pink mist clinging to his right hand.
Faron was draining Barra’s magic from her and using it himself!
She
hadn’t secured Mole to the chair,
he
had, using magic he’d stolen from her. Barra would
never
have allowed him to do this. Taking power from another, even if they agreed, was one of the few Mage Laws that was punishable by death. Barra didn’t know Faron was stealing her power.
Timo looked past Faron and Barra to Mole. Who blinked and nodded once in his direction. Did Mole know he was here? Mole smiled and nodded again. Yes, somehow Mole knew that Timo was here.
He concentrated, and a spell dripped off his hand onto the floor. Slowly it slid across to Mole. As it circled up his right leg, the pink mage mist dissolved. Mole shifted slightly and flexed a finger as Timo’s spell released his right hand before travelling across his body to his left hand and then down his other leg to his ankle.
The tread of boots on stone pulled Timo’s attention away from Mole. He ducked into the hallway and shrank down beside the door, trying to make himself as small as possible. A cloaked figure strode towards him, and he held his breath. Cloth brushed against him as the newcomer swept past him into the room. Another figure, following the first, paused in the doorway, forcing Timo to remain hunched where he was.
“Master Faron,” a voice said. “I understand that you have captured one of Kara Fonti’s accomplices.”
“Ah, Inigo,” Faron said. A chair scraped across the stone floor. “How nice of you to stop by.” Faron’s voice was closer now, but he didn’t seem pleased at the interruption. “And who’s out in the hall?” Timo shrank for a moment, panicked that somehow he’d been seen, but it was the Mage who stood in the doorway who answered.
“Hestor Galina, Master Mage.” The Mage beside him stepped through the doorway, and Timo took advantage of the rustle of his robes to stand up. He craned his neck to see past Hestor and into the room.
“Of course,” Faron sneered. “A full Mage and yet I see you’re still Inigo’s lapdog.”
“Just as you’ve found your own,” Inigo gestured to Barra, who stood beside Mole, her eyes fixed on the floor. “Ungrateful wretch,” he muttered, and Barra’s shoulders slumped and she collapsed into herself.
“She has her uses,” Faron said. “And now I insist that you leave.”
“No,” Inigo said. “The man you’ve captured is council business, he comes with me.” He glared at Faron. “We will be grateful. You are, of course, welcome to attend his interrogation in the council room.”
Faron flicked a hand, and pink mage mist flew from his fingers and wrapped round Inigo’s throat. “He stays,” Faron said.
Inigo’s hands flew up to his neck, and his fingers scrabbled at his throat. Another flick of Faron’s hand and the mage mist faded into nothing. Inigo sucked in a gasping breath and took a step towards Faron.
“I wouldn’t,” Faron warned, his hand in the air. “It seems I’m the only one with any magic after the debacle at Founders Day.”
Inigo stopped struggling, and then Timo heard Barra gasp.
“I think we both know that’s not true,” Mole said. He stood with Barra clasped to his chest, one hand around her throat. “How long will your magic last once your source is dead?”
“Long enough to kill you,” Faron said, facing Mole.
Timo made a small gesture and the rope of mage mist that linked Barra to Faron snapped. Barra’s eyes flew open in surprise, and Faron grunted. Mole’s smile widened, and he dropped his hand from Barra’s throat.
“Even with her magic I doubt you’d have time to kill me,” Mole said. “But now that it’s gone . . .” His eyes flicked around the room, pausing on each Mage for just a moment. “I don’t expect any of you to be much trouble.”
“What do you mean?” Barra asked quietly. “What just happened?”
“Your Master didn’t mention it,” Mole said. “But he’s been stealing your magic. He must have started before Founders Day.” He smiled. “Once Kara took their magic he hasn’t been able to create a single spell using his own power.”
“Kara Fonti took his magic?”
“Another thing your Master forgot to mention,” Mole said. “No Mage who was in the room that night has any magic left.” He paused and looked directly at Inigo. “Kara thinks it could be permanent for some.”
“Ridiculous,” Inigo said. “My power is returning already.”
“It’s not,” Mole said.
Timo had to wonder at Mole’s confidence. Was it a guess? Timo stared at each Mage in the room, but as hard as he looked he could find no trace of magic except for Barra’s. Even now the stolen power was thinning around Faron.
“I’m sure he’d like everyone to think it was,” Mole said. “But only this girl has any magic.” He called out a few words in Seyoyan. “I will be releasing the others in a moment,” he said quietly. “Then we will leave.”
“You won’t get far,” Inigo said. “We’ll find you and kill you.”
Mole stepped toward Inigo, pulling a frightened Barra with him. “I would kill you now,” he said softly. “But I promised Kara Fonti that I would not do anything to jeopardize my mission.” Mole relaxed slightly and retreated. “But don’t think I don’t know what you did.” He stared at Inigo. “Arabella Fonti is dead because of you,” Mole said.
Cold spread along Timo’s limbs. His mother was dead?
“I was at Founders Day. You attacked Kara, and she sent your spell back to you. But you used the Mage Guild Secundus as a shield and she was killed by your spell. The one you meant for Kara,” Mole finished.
Timo’s legs felt weak and he slumped against the doorway. He looked over at Barra, who seemed afraid, but not surprised at this news. Had she known all along? Yes, he could see it in her eyes. She’d spoken to him and hadn’t said a word about his mother being dead, she’d even gone so far as to let him believe she was alive and well.
“I really don’t care,” Faron said. “The truth is I do have more magic in this room than anyone else. Right, Barra?”
Timo’s anger at the girl evaporated when he saw the terror in her eyes. She actually shrank against Mole, who still held her captive.
“That’s actually not true,” Timo said. He stepped into the room and dropped his invisibility spell. “I have more magic than Barra.” He met Faron’s gaze. “Besides, she won’t use her power on your behalf.”
“Timo,” Hestor said. “Thank Gyda. Stop that man. He’s threatening to kill us.”
Timo strode over to Mole’s side. “That’s funny coming from you, Hestor. How many times did you try to kill me over the years—five, ten? And let’s not forget that you tried to hire an Assassin.”
“No, let’s not forget that.” Mole nodded. “Although we know you were asking on behalf of someone else,” Mole said. He looked at Inigo and grinned. “I wanted to take the commission just to part you from your Guilders. I’m still sad that I was outvoted.”
“Assassin contracts are governed by Guild Law,” Hestor said. “You’d be forced out of the Guild if you didn’t fulfill it.”
Timo snorted and met Mole’s eyes. “Mole isn’t Guild,” Timo said. He looked at Hestor. “But you’ve all but confessed to trying to arrange my death.” His gaze shifted to Inigo. “And I believe Mole was speaking the truth about the death of my mother.” His lips tightened. He and Arabella Fonti hadn’t had an easy relationship, but she was still his mother. He turned to Mole. “I’ll get the Seyoyans.”
Mole nodded, and Timo stepped past him. He glanced at Barra as he went by, and she dropped her gaze, but not before he saw the panic and defeat in her eyes. He sighed as he made his way to a door at the far end of the room.
Would he have done anything differently in her position? It hadn’t felt like it at the time, but his mother and Rorik
had
protected him—Barra never had that. And the one thing she’d hoped would save her, to be assigned as Journeyman to a woman, he, Timo had spoiled. Or so Barra believed. And she wasn’t wrong, not really. If Arabella Fonti hadn’t had her son to protect, she might have taken on an Apprentice or Journeyman. And she might have wanted to teach a woman.
The door led to a short hallway lined with four more small doors. Pink mage mist swirled around three of them.
“Yash,” Timo called. “Wuls, where are you?”
“Timo,” came the reply. “Back here.”
Timo followed the voice to the third door. He waved the spell away and grasped the latch. The door swung open, and he saw Wuls lying flat on stone the floor. Pink mage mist covered him from the neck down.
“When I move it gets tighter,” Wuls whispered. The mist seemed to sink into him, and he gasped.
Timo knelt down and studied the spell. Using Barra’s power, Faron had created a strong and very vicious spell. He glanced around the room and frowned. It looked as though Faron made a habit of keeping captives. Thick chains were attached to bolts in the wall, wisps of pale blue mist still clinging to them. A small chair was propped up against the wall beside the open door. Did he come and watch his captives? Torture them? Timo shook his head in disgust. No wonder Barra had preferred Mole to Faron.
“Hold still,” he said to Wuls. “I need to know what I’m dealing with.” He wasn’t about to repeat the same mistake he’d made with Rorik. He didn’t want to trigger an even worse spell while trying to remove this one. He poked a finger at the spell, and Wuls sucked in his breath. Timo met his eyes and Wuls blinked once, telling him to keep going.
Timo closed his eyes and tried to
feel
the spell. He nodded. There was power in this spell but it weakened right . . . here. He poked a finger into the pink mist and willed the spell towards him. Slowly it started to unravel. He copied what he’d seen Kara do so long ago and trailed his finger along the floor, drawing the mage mist with it. Wuls’ breathing became harsher and then he gulped in a raspy breath.