He nodded towards the Mages, most of whom were still freeing themselves from behind toppled furniture. Hestor stared at them, his eyes blazing with hatred. Timo grabbed the guard’s outstretched hand and pulled himself up.
There was debris in front of the door and more than a few Mages between them and it. Timo flexed his right hand. He still had some magic left, enough to get them out of here, he hoped, but not enough to get them off the island.
“Stop them.” It was Inigo, his voice weak but still with the power of command behind it. A couple of Journeymen stepped away from the wall, sidling towards Timo and the guard.
The door rattled and then a crack appeared as it slowly opened inward, pushing debris as the bottom of the door scraped along the floor.
Gyda, please don’t be more guards
. Timo raised his hand, readying a spell.
The two Journeymen scowled at him and moved towards the partially opened door. One was close enough to look through it. He had just enough time to frown before the door slammed into him, sending him stumbling into his companion. Both men tumbled to the floor, sliding to a stop a few feet away. A man stood in the doorway, tense and ready to fight. He was covered in a layer of grass green mage mist.
Timo dropped his hand and grinned, loosening his grip on the spell.
“Reo?” Timo said.
Reo nodded. “Hurry. We need to get out of here.”
“Yes,” Timo agreed. He took two steps towards the doorway then stopped and turned, looking back at the guard. “Are you coming?”
“I heard someone but I don’t see them,” the guard said. He looked at Inigo, who was still calling for Mages to stop them. “But it’s got to be better than this lot.”
“Yes,” Timo said. “I told you I had friends on the way. One’s here now.”
He stepped past Reo and out the partially open door. Once the guard slipped by him, Reo grabbed a broken chair leg, slammed the door shut, and wedged the chair leg into the gap between the door and the floor.
“Can we trust him?” Reo asked.
Timo turned to find the former Assassin staring at the guard, whose unfocussed eyes nervously looked in his direction.
“Yes,” Timo said. “I’d be dead if it wasn’t for him.”
“All right,” Reo said. “He comes with us. But I don’t trust him.”
“He’ll be fine,” Timo assured him.
“Yes. Otherwise he’ll be dead.” Reo turned and started to trot down the hallway.
Timo reached out for the guard’s hand. “Follow me,” Timo said. “My friend’s invisible but I can see him.”
“He wasn’t so friendly with me,” the guard said.
“He’s my sister’s husband now,” Timo said. “But he used to be an Assassin.”
“Gyda help me,” the guard muttered as he followed Timo down the hallway.
REO CHASED A
faint ball of green mage mist down the hallway, and Timo followed, dragging the guard behind him. Reo signalled for them to stop before he turned a corner. A few moments later, he looked into the hallway and waved them forward. Timo rushed around the corner and then stopped so suddenly that the guard bumped into him and almost sent him sprawling. Right on top of the two bodies that slumped against the wall.
“Gyda,” the guard hissed.
“Let’s go,” Reo said from a few paces further away. “There could be more.”
“Come on,” the guard said. This time it was he who drew Timo along in his wake. “These two was mean. Not sad they’re gone.”
Dragging his eyes from the two dead men, Timo stumbled down the hall after Reo and the grass green spell that was leading them all, he hoped, towards the Mage Primus. And his sister.
Reo crouched beside a small wooden door the mage mist had stopped in front of. Timo and the guard caught up and flattened themselves against the stone wall.
“Mole,” Timo gasped. “We have to get him.”
“He’s fine,” Reo said, not taking his eyes from the door, not even breathing hard after the sprint down the hallway and killing two men. “He should be home by now.”
Timo clutched at Reo’s sleeve. “And Barra? The others?”
Reo sighed and glanced at him. “All fine. All gone from this Gyda cursed pile of rocks.” Reo pressed an ear to the wood of the door for a moment before he turned a grim face to Timo. “Later we’ll discuss what the Mage Guild was doing to a couple of Seyoyan youths.”
“Nothing good,” Timo said and shivered.
“That’s what I thought,” Reo replied. He eased the door open. “Give me five minutes then follow me. Lock the door behind you if you can.”
This time Timo barely glanced at the body—another man—as he pulled the guard up the stairs and past it.
They spent another half hour following Reo around corners and through doors. Finally, they reached a hall lit only by a mass of mage mist that was layered against one wall. Grass green mage mist. Reo reached a hand out, feeling along the wall.
“Right here.” Timo had caught up to Reo and pointed towards the mage mist.
The Assassin nodded and his hand disappeared into the wall, followed by his head.
“Got him.”
Reo’s voice was muffled, and at first Timo thought he was talking to him. Then a head poked out from the wall—Kara—and he realized the Assassin had been talking
about
him.
“Thank Gyda,” Kara said.
She grabbed his hand and pulled him through the mage mist and into a small alcove. The guard crowded in behind him. The spell cast an eerie glow over his sister’s face but the relief on it was apparent.
“Timo, are you all right?” she asked.
“Fine,” he replied. “At least I think so.”
“If they’ve hurt you . . .” Kara’s voice trailed off.
She peered into his face with such fierceness that Timo finally understood how she could love an Assassin. She would kill to keep those she loved safe—to keep
him
safe—just as readily as Reo would.
“I’m fine,” Timo repeated. “Just drained, tired. Can we get out of here?”
“Yes,” Santos said from the corner. “I hate this island. I didn’t realize it until I left it and came back again, but it drains me.”
“Of your power?” Timo asked, curious. Could the island have become so layered with magic that it sucked it from those who had it? He studied Santos from head to toe but there was no mage mist seeping from him.
“Not my power,” Santo said with a shake of his head. “Of my calmness—of my ability to think rationally. I almost feel as though the madness is returning.”
Santos and Kara exchanged looks.
“There’s mage mist almost everywhere,” she said. “Do you think all that magic is affecting you? Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
“Because there’s nothing to be done about it,” Santos replied. “We’ll leave as soon as we can, and I’ll either be better or I won’t.”
“Is it because you were cursed?” Timo asked. “Or could it affect everyone who lives here?” The few days he’d spent on Arts Guild Island he
had
felt lighter but he’d assumed that was because he’d felt safe. Safer than he’d ever felt in the house he grew up in, anyway.
“I suppose it could,” Santos said, a thoughtful look on his face. “That might explain how progressively corrupt Mage Guild and the council have become over the past few decades.”
“Excellent,” Reo said. “Not only do the Mages want us dead, they all might be half-mad. We need to go, now. There’s no telling what they’re capable of.”
“Santos,” Kara said. “Can you spell us invisible?”
“I can do that,” Timo said. “Let Santos conserve his power.”
“You’re sure?” Kara asked.
Timo nodded, and she smiled.
“Good. Who’s your friend?”
“Oh,” Timo said. He’d forgotten about the guard. He turned to him. “Sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“It’s Elman,” the guard said. “Guildsman Elman.”
“Do you have any magic, Guildsman Elman?” Santos asked. He’d left the corner and now stood beside Kara, brushing dust from his robe.
“No,” Elman replied. “Who’s asking?” He glared at Santos.
“I promised him he could come with me . . . us.” Timo said. He met Santos’ steady gaze. If the Primus was feeling mentally unsteady he wasn’t showing it.
“That’s fine,” Santos said. “But we still need to know what skills he has. Reo?”
“He can move quietly,” Reo said. “And he knows some of the guards.” Reo glanced at Elman, a smile hovering on his lips. “He didn’t like them much so I think we can trust him at least enough to help us get away. And he’s wearing the right uniform in case we need it. Can you use a sword?”
The guard looked from Santos over to Timo and then to Reo.
“Again, who’s asking?”
“I told you,” Timo said. “They’re friends of mine. My sister Kara Fonti, her husband Reo and that,” he pointed to Santos, “is Mage Primus Santos Nimali.”
“Santos Nimali,” Elman repeated. “The Primus who supposedly died years ago and returned on Founders Day?”
“Yes,” Santos said.
Elman looked over at Timo. “No wonder the council hates you.” He paused and his glance settled on Kara. “The deaths of Primus Rorik and Secundus Fonti were bad business, and Gyda knows I can’t trust Inigo, so yes, I can use a sword. And yes, I’m on your side. I’ll be happy to get off this island, if you’ll take me with you.”
“Good,” Reo said. “Then we need you to tell us everything you know about where we are, what guards and Mages might be around, and anything else that might help us get away safely.”
ONCE REO WAS
satisfied with Elman’s answers to his questions, the guard led them to a small room that was tucked behind a hallway that led to what he called the work areas. From the guard’s descriptions, Timo knew it was where he and Mole had been separated, near where the minor Mages were being drained of magic to power the island.
The room they were in barely needed Santos’ concealment spell, and Timo believed Elman when he said that only a few guards knew of it. It was dusty and choked with cast-off furniture but it seemed a safe enough place to rest.
Timo sat with his back against the wall and let his exhaustion sweep over him. It had been hours since he’d slept or ate or drank, and the small spell he’d used to make them all invisible had sapped his energy more than he’d counted on.
“Here.”
He opened his eyes to find Kara kneeling beside him, holding out a water skin. He drank deeply before handing it back to her.
“I am so very sorry about our mother,” Kara said. She sighed and slid to the floor beside him.
“Mole said you deflected Inigo’s spell,” Timo said. “And that Inigo hid behind her.”
“Yes,” Kara agreed.
“I don’t blame you for Inigo’s actions.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Or our mother’s. Was she really willing to have Inigo be her Secundus?”
“So she told Santos,” Kara replied. “Although . . . after, when Santos spelled him to tell us the truth, Inigo admitted that he planned on killing Arabella anyway.”
“Probably another curse,” Timo said. “That’s what he did to Rorik.” He looked down at his hands. He knew so much more about his unmagic now he could probably save Rorik from that curse, instead of hastening his death.
“We need to know what happened,” Kara said. “With the council.” She placed a hand over his, as if to take hold of it, but instead she let her hand hover a few inches above his. Slowly, wisps of different coloured mage mist were pulled from his hand towards hers. “And how good you are at drawing out magic.”
“Good?” Timo laughed. “I didn’t know it could be done until Mole told me that you had done it on Founders Day. Today I was desperate enough to try it myself.” He rubbed a hand across his eyes, blocking out the light. But he could still see the destruction—feel the power course through him. “I couldn’t control it though. Almost ruined the room. And I think I killed people.”
Her hand gripped his and squeezed.
He looked up into her eyes. “I know they wanted to kill me, so it should make it better, but it doesn’t.” Were they innocent, the people who’d died in that room? They’d been following orders given to them by their superiors. Gyda, most of them were simply trying to get through each day without losing their place—which in Mage Guild meant your life. Could he blame them?
“No, it doesn’t make it any better,” Kara said gently. “And it doesn’t get easier.” She glanced over at Reo, who was talking with Elman and Santos. “I have that from an expert.”
“He had to kill in order to get us here safely,” Timo said. “I never would have thought an Assassin would be troubled by that.” He met her eyes. “But he is, isn’t he?”
Kara sighed. “It’s not the life he chose for himself—that’s the one he has with me—but he makes an effort to keep his skills sharp. He knows that not everything can be settled with words.”
“No,” Timo agreed. “For years my mother tried to convince the council that I wasn’t a threat.” He looked down at his hands, which were now clenched in his lap. “And now
I am
a threat, partly because they left me no other role.”