Chaosmage (18 page)

“We had a deal,” said Tammy. “One hour inside your camp for the wine.”

“That's right, and you've had your hour,” said Fenne, with a feral grin. “Now, what are you going to give me for your freedom?”

D
espite the city being saturated in bleak memories and strong emotions, Balfruss was determined to find Kaine using his magic. He'd thought about trying to make contact with the lingering dead, but quickly discounted the idea. There were simply too many of them, and even if he managed to isolate one and ask for its help, its activities wouldn't go unnoticed by the others. After that he'd be hounded by hordes of them, day and night, and would probably be driven mad or forced out of the city.

He'd thought about using his magic to try and trace Kaine's path through the streets, but that proved impossible as the whole city was
cross
-
crossed
with traces of energy, both old and new. Kaine's pupils had been in Voechenka, presumably for years, training to use their power, and remnants of it stretched across the city like a giant spider web. That meant he had to rely on more traditional methods to find Kaine and employ only his natural senses and intellect.

After wandering through the city for an hour looking for clues without success, Balfruss began to realise the scale of the challenge ahead. Something brushed the edge of his senses, making him stop suddenly.

Long before he felt the sudden
build
-
up
of energy, Balfruss was alerted to the presence of another magic user by an echo from the Source. Summoning his will and instinctively weaving a shield, Balfruss spun in a circle to find the direction of the Battlemage.

Making no attempt to conceal his location or what he was doing, a young man marched down the street towards Balfruss, drawing power from the Source as he approached. Rather than fashioning it into some kind of weapon, or manipulating the energy, he just kept drawing more and more power into his body. A few seconds later the young Battlemage reached his capacity as blood ran from both nostrils and his steps faltered. With a scream of rage he flung one arm out towards Balfruss and released all of the raw energy in one concentrated burst.

Balfruss immediately dropped his shield, held both hands out towards the Battlemage and opened himself up to the Source, but without siphoning any energy. The wave of power from the young mage made him rock slightly on his heels, but then it passed through him without causing any damage. Focusing his will Balfruss channelled the energy back down into the earth, sending it deep into the ground, where it dispersed naturally.

The young mage just stared, his mouth hanging open in shock and awe. Throwing all of his strength at Balfruss in one go must have drained him, but he stubbornly tried to pull together something else.

“Do you really think that will work?” asked Balfruss, walking slowly towards him.

“The Master has tasked me with killing you,” he said, wiping away the blood from his nose.

“You can't touch me with your magic.”

“You're here to kill the Master, kill us all.”

“You've been lied to,” said Balfruss, coming within arm's reach. Up close Balfruss could see he was just a boy, perhaps seventeen years old.

“Stay back!” cried the boy, crossing his arms in front of him as if he expected an attack. When nothing happened he opened his eyes and stared at Balfruss.

“What's your name?”

“Why? So you can bind me with it? I'll never tell you my name!”

“That doesn't work,” said Balfruss, talking very slowly. “Even if I knew your full name I couldn't make you do anything against your will. That's a myth.”

The boy remained sceptical. “Really?”

“Really. I'd rather not call you boy, but I can.”

“What about
shape
-
changing
into animals? I've always wanted to fly.”

Balfruss shook his head. “Myth. I lived with several tribes across the Dead Sea and none of them knew how. None of their ancestors ever referred to it either. They can do many things we've never imagined, but no one can do that.”

The boy thought about it for a while and his shoulders slumped. “I'm Willem,” he said eventually.

“Balfruss.”

“What about flying? Is that possible?”

“Sort of,” explained Balfruss. “It's possible to bond with an animal and share in its experiences. So, if you bonded with a bird, you could fly in a way.”

Willem stared up at the sky, probably imagining what it would be like to soar through the grey clouds overhead. The air was cool and Balfruss could see his breath in front of his face. There would be a frost in the morning.

“Why didn't it work?” said Willem, gesturing towards Balfruss with one hand. “My attack.”

Balfruss sat down on a pile of rubble not far away from Willem and got comfortable before speaking. The cold of the stone started to seep into his backside. He wouldn't be able to sit here for long without it going numb.

“Because I'm a Sorcerer.”

“A what?”

Balfruss took a deep breath and tried to remember that Willem was very young. He also knew the boy had no interest in a history lesson or an explanation that took too long.

“A long time ago, people who wielded magic were called Sorcerers. People forgot what that meant and what was possible with magic. Battlemages are living weapons, trained only to fight. Sorcerers can do so much more. Sorcerer is not just a word. It means to have a deeper understanding of the Source.”

“I don't understand,” said Willem, which made Balfruss smile. He'd said the same thing many times to his teachers.

“Let's just say Sorcerers have knowledge of Talents not seen for decades or even longer.”

“Like skinwalking,” said Willem, trying to be helpful. “The Master teaches that to a few and if they survive they become Flesh Mages.”

“Do you know where he sends them once they're trained?”

“I won't betray the Master,” said Willem, getting to his feet and threatening to bolt. Despite being sent to die against an opponent he could never beat, he remained loyal to Kaine. Balfruss would have to move very slowly. Nevertheless the boy had not run away. He suspected it was because he represented someone with knowledge and Willem was burning with curiosity. He'd been the same at Willem's age, desperate to learn more than the small pieces of information being doled out in class. It was one of the reasons pupils at the Red Tower competed in illegal duels. They wanted to push themselves to the limit.

Balfruss held up his hands in surrender. “All right, can I ask how long you've been his student?”

“About two years.” Looking more closely Balfruss realised he'd miscalculated the boy's age. Willem was closer to fifteen and was just a tall and gangly adolescent.

“Did you really think you could beat me?” asked Balfruss.

The boy at least had the grace to shrug. “I thought I might catch you off guard.”

“You tried and failed. So what happens now?”

“I have to try again,” said Willem, and Balfruss raised an eyebrow. “If I go back without your head he'll kill me.”

Part of Balfruss's arse had gone numb and he quickly got to his feet, startling the boy. Willem jumped back and looked in all directions in alarm. When nothing happened and no one attacked, he started to calm down. He was jumpier than a
new
-
born
colt, startled by every shadow and loud noise.

“Go home,” said Balfruss.

“I can't.”

“I meant your real home.”

“Can't do that either,” said Willem. “The whole village got torched during the war. I was scavenging in one of the towns when the Master found me. This is my home now.”

Balfruss surreptitiously rubbed his arse, trying to get some feeling back into his cheeks. “Then you should travel to the Red Tower. You're still young and they could teach you there.”

“Why can't you teach me?” asked Willem.

Balfruss was just turning away when the question caught him by surprise. “Me?”

“You said you know about lots of old stuff. Why can't you teach me?”

Balfruss cocked his head to one side and stared more carefully at the boy. Despite the temperature, a few beads of sweat were running down the sides of his face. His eyes settled on Balfruss and then quickly flicked away to one side and back again.

Even as he started to ask the question Balfruss realised he already knew the answer. Willem had been nothing more than a distraction. It was just another ploy. He'd never stood a chance in a direct fight with Balfruss and Kaine knew that. Willem had been a test, to see if Balfruss would kill a weak and defenceless opponent, or if he'd talk to him. But there had to be more to it than that. If this was a game of Stones, where was the sting in the tail?

With a scream of rage Willem drew a dagger from under his shirt and lunged at Balfruss. The edge of the blade was discoloured from some kind of poison and Balfruss smelled something sickly sweet in the air. Using the side of his right hand Balfruss blocked the blow then riposted with a fist to the centre of Willem's chest, right in the solar plexus. The boy stumbled back, gasping for air and unable to stand up straight.

There was a faint prickle of energy in the air to his left and Balfruss turned towards a
hollowed
-
out
building. Realising that they had been discovered, three young students ran out of the front door, each carrying what was probably a poisoned weapon. From his right two more students with a weak connection to the Source ran at him with raised weapons. Willem would catch his breath in a few minutes and soon Balfruss would have six poisoned weapons to deal with. All of those around him were no threat to him with magic, but their blades were an entirely different matter. They wanted to kill him and yet they were nothing more than children.

Raising his arms Balfruss spread his fingers wide and lifted his palms to the sky. A hook of energy snagged one leg of each student and they were yanked into the air. Willem went with them, snared by an invisible tether forged of Balfruss's willpower, until all six were hanging upside down. A couple of weapons clattered to the ground, but one or two stubbornly held on to their blades. One of the students even managed to throw a dagger towards Balfruss. The aim was poor but if he did nothing it might catch him on the shoulder. Balfruss suspected even a scratch from these weapons would prove deadly.

While keeping the six pupils aloft Balfruss focused another portion of his will on the blade, sending it off in a different direction before it reached him. It went sailing through the air, away from any of the figures hanging upside down. A second later he heard someone cry out and spinning around he saw a seventh figure stumbling towards him with a loaded crossbow. She was no more than nineteen years old with pale skin that quickly began to flush red. The crossbow slid from fingers that were starting to swell up as she dropped to her knees.

The red skin of her hands and face became riddled with purple and blue lines until he could see every vein and artery under the skin. The girl's scream was so shrill it sounded like a trapped animal.

The other students had stopped trying to attack him or escape and were now staring at their friend. They'd probably had no idea what the poison would do, only that it would kill him. The girl was someone they knew and, by the horror on their faces, obviously cared about.

There was nothing any of them could do except watch as the girl's terror reached new heights while her veins started to turn black. It started at her fingertips and she frantically tried to stop it moving up her arms, scratching and then clawing at the skin. As it crept up her forearms she was whimpering and digging her nails into her flesh until sludgy black blood dribbled out. It hardened like clay as it made contact with the air, and her screams increased to fever pitch. Her head was whipping from side to side as the veins in her neck changed colour. She clawed at her face, digging channels in her flesh until she wore a mask of black blood. After a few seconds it hardened, freezing her expression of agony in place.

Balfruss thought it was over, but he could still hear a faint wheezing coming from her throat. She was still alive. The sound of her breathing continued for a few more seconds, echoing loudly in the street, until with one final rattle she died. Her eyes remained open, staring at her friends, who were still dangling upside down by one leg. Two were crying and praying at the same time, while the others were utterly silent, their expressions of horror a near match to that of the dead girl's.

The simplest way to deal with the six students in front of him would be to cut off their heads. Or crush them with his will until they were nothing more than red smears on the ground. He thought about it briefly, but knew he couldn't slaughter them because it would be just that. Slaughter. It didn't matter that they had been sent to kill him. They were children with very little power and almost no training.

At the Red Tower they would have been given a choice. Here, the Master had sent six of them to kill him or die trying, knowing full well that they had no hope of success. Six lives thrown away as nothing more than a distraction for the girl with the crossbow.