Magebane (34 page)

“Details,” he grated out at last, and resumed walking, much more quickly, toward the Palace.

But of details, it seemed, there was a shortage. Gannick had been aware that the boy was trying to fix the airship, and had thought nothing of it, since that was the task he and the mageservants had been set, though he had made sure that a man-at-arms kept an eye on both Brenna and the boy. But then the back door had suddenly opened and that man-at-arms had been tossed, bleeding and senseless, into the hallway by a mageservant, which had then slammed the door shut.

Gannick had seized his control wand and tried to run out into the courtyard, but a mageservant, obviously under a command to let no one into the yard, attacked him so quickly he couldn't use the wand on it. As he scrambled for safety, he glimpsed Brenna and Anton in the gondola of the airship, which was straining at its ropes. He'd called out the other men-at-arms. The mageservants had been quickly dealt with . . . six destroyed, and despite everything else Falk winced at the thought of how much each of those cleverly made and fiendishly expensive magical marionettes cost . . . but they had given Anton just the amount of time he needed. The airship had shot skyward, “Quick as an arrow,” Gannick said, rising so far and fast that it was only a tiny blue dot in the sky in seconds. They had watched it start to drift to the northeast. The men-at-arms had mounted and ridden after it, but the heavy brush and snow in that direction had slowed them to a crawl, and soon they had turned back, defeated.

“Are you certain there is no magic in that device, my lord?” Brich said. “Gannick said they opened the back of a chimney and drew on the heat of the Mage Fire.”

Falk snorted. “He needed the hot air, Brich. That's all.”

Brich frowned, clearly not understanding, but said nothing.

That suited Falk, who was thinking furiously, picturing a map of the Kingdom. Northeast would take the airship to the Great Lake, this time of year an enormous sheet of windswept ice rather than an inland sea. And northeast of that, if they somehow made it clear across, lay only wilderness, home to the Minik, the native people driven from the South by the arrival of the MageLords eight centuries ago.

What those primitive savages would make of a giant airship dropping into their midst, Falk couldn't imagine.

The trouble was he had no idea how far the airship could go. It had not traveled far in miles from the town Anton had described on the other side of the Barrier before coming down in Falk's backyard, but Falk suspected a lot of that had had to do with the unusual conditions that prevailed above the Barrier. If he understood the airship's principle well enough, it would gradually descend as the air in its envelope cooled. If the burner still worked, they could use it to stay aloft longer, but its reservoir of rock gas was empty and they certainly hadn't been able to fill
that
in Falk's manor. They could throw out ballast for a time to stay aloft, but eventually . . .

If he only knew how far it had risen, how fast the winds were blowing, and the rate of descent, he could easily calculate their approximate landing point. But he knew none of those things.

During the last few moments of mutual silence, he and Brich had entered the Palace and were now descending to Falk's office. He waited until they were through the checkpoint and Brich had taken his accustomed place at his desk before giving his orders.

“Call out the army,” he said. “Start . . .” Again he pictured the map. “They're to start at Moose Leap and move northeast, questioning everyone they can find, adjusting their search as necessary based on whatever sightings of the airship are reported. When they find the airship, they're to secure it and have it transported back here.”

“Here, my lord?” said Brich, who had been taking notes using pen and paper, as though he suspected the Commonermade text-stamper was not something Falk would appreciate at that moment. He was right.

“Yes, here.” Falk rubbed his forehead. “I may have use for it. Brenna, when they find her, is also to be brought here. The boy . . .”
Kill him
, he wanted to say, but all the reasons for not killing him remained valid. “Likewise.”

“It will be done, my lord.”

“And then, Brich, magespeak the manor. Tell Gannick to tell my men-at-arms they are to gently—gently, mind you, but firmly—insist to Mother Northwind that she, too, must come to the Palace. I need her talents.”

“Yes, my lord.” Brich's pen quit moving across the paper. “Anything else?”

“Yes. Verdsmitt. Has he said anything to his interrogators?”

“Only,” Brich said dryly, “that he was sorry they did not appreciate his play and the next time he comes to the Palace, he promises to bring a musical comedy.”

Falk smiled tightly. “Davydd Verdsmitt,” he said, “believes he is untouchable because harming him will inflame the Commons. After what I have done this evening, Brich, perhaps he will understand that inflammation of the Commons no longer concerns me.”

“Shall we make more . . . intense inquiries?” Brich said.

Again, Falk was tempted to say yes, to let loose the torturers. But though torture had its place, he did not place much faith in the information he received from it. Men in agony would say anything to ease that agony, and sometimes they even convinced themselves they were telling the truth, their own memories warped by the pain . . . in which case, even drawing out those memories would be useless.

He did not want Verdsmitt's mind warped. He wanted it crystal clear when Mother Northwind reached inside it.

“No,” Falk said. “Stop all inquiries. Let him sit in silence and contemplate his misdeeds . . . until Mother Northwind is here.”

Brich nodded. He didn't know all of what Mother Northwind was capable of, but he knew enough.

“And Tagaza?” Falk said.

“The First Mage says he will speak only to you, and points out that he serves at the pleasure of the King, not you, Lord Falk,” Brich said. “He says you have arrested him illegally and are abusing your authority. The Council has, of course, learned of his arrest and is demanding you account for it at the morning meeting.”

“And so I will,” Falk said. “After I've had a little chat with my old friend. Issue my orders, Brich.”

“Right away, my lord.”

Falk took a moment to divest himself of his winter coat and boots in his office, pulling on his indoor boots and making sure every thread was in place on his gray tunic and trousers before heading down the hall to Tagaza's cell . . . just across the hall from Verdsmitt's, he noted with grim amusement. No doubt they would have had a lot to say to each other if not for the fact the cells were magically soundproofed to prevent any such communication . . . magically, so that the soundproofing could be easily removed if Falk judged it worthwhile to have the sounds from one cell heard by other prisoners.

There was a lot of magic at work in that dungeon. It made it cold enough in the hallway that Falk could see his breath. Some of it held Tagaza's door closed. He reached out and adjusted the spell with his mind, then pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing and locking the door again with a quick magical flick.

The cell, eight feet wide by ten feet long, held a bed, Tagaza, a chamber pot, and nothing else. It had no window, the only light coming from a magelight in the ceiling. Reset once a day, it gradually faded as the day went along until it plunged the cell into pitch-blackness around midnight. Already it had dimmed far enough that the room seemed twilit. Falk gave it a quick boost, flooding the cell with harsh blue light.

“Falk!” Tagaza, tight-lipped, lumbered to his feet. “I have done nothing to deserve this. Have you gone mad? We're only weeks from—”

“Mad?” Falk said coldly. “On the contrary, I believe I am seeing much more clearly than I have for some time.”

“I've been working with you for twenty years to bring down the Barriers,” Tagaza said. “At the solstice that work will be done. How on earth can you believe I would sabotage two decades' labor this close to its culmination?”

“People change, Tagaza,” Falk said. “I have noted for a long time your distaste for the sacrifices we must make to bring down the Barriers. You have grown inordinately fond of both Brenna and our
faux
Prince. And though you have always claimed you share the
goals
of the Unbound, you have
never
shared our reasons. You've claimed to believe that magic is running out, and will fail entirely if we don't bring down the Barriers. My guess is that you have realized you were wrong about that—as I've always said—and so you've decided to sabotage the destruction of the Barriers to save the lives of Brenna and the King. But did you really think I would not put two and two together when I discovered Commoners had found a way to pass through the Lesser Barrier and kidnap the Prince? Only a master magician, steeped in the lore of the Barriers, could accomplish such a thing. Only you, My Lord First Mage.”

Tagaza's jaw and fists had clenched, as though he wanted to physically attack Falk.
I'd like to see him try
, Falk thought contemptuously as he glared at the First Mage's broad face. “That's . . . ludicrous,” Tagaza said at last, voice tight with anger. “You have no evidence any of that is true. And I do not doubt my belief, Falk. The magic lode beneath this Palace cannot sustain both the Barriers and still meet the needs of the Mageborn forever. In a few more years, if the Barriers stand—”

“No evidence?” Falk snarled. “How many times have you told me the Lesser Barrier is impenetrable? And yet it
has
been penetrated.” Falk stepped closer to the First Mage, who squared his shoulders and glared back. “And there is more. You have long argued for giving the Commoners more say in governing this kingdom. I have heard from more than one source that you have even expressed a wish that there were some way Commoners could use magic, too. And now, it seems, Commoners can. Somehow they have gained access to enchanted weapons, and a key to the Lesser Barrier. Some mysterious, powerful mage has been providing the Common Cause with magical help. That is clearly sedition. It is clearly a threat to Public Safety. And therefore, clearly, the Minister of Public Safety has the authority and duty to arrest that mage.
You
.”

“Falk, listen to yourself,” Tagaza said. “Why would I help the Common Cause assassinate the Prince? You just said I had grown too fond of him!”

“But they
didn't
assassinate him, did they? They spectacularly
failed
to assassinate him. You claimed it was incompetence on the part of the mage who crafted the weapons. But no one could be
that
incompetent. I believe rather than a sign of incompetence, it is a sign of
great
competence, by a master mage who knew exactly what he was doing, whose goal was not to kill the Prince but to disrupt plans
involving
the Prince . . . my plans. My
Plan
.

“And then the ‘kidnapping.' The Prince left his room on his own, took a boat, rowed it across the lake, and exited the Lesser Barrier in the company of unknown Commoners. Almost as if it weren't a kidnapping at all. Almost as if the Prince had been told to flee . . . by someone who knew what was about to happen.” Falk took another step closer, staring down at Tagaza with cold fury. “Confess, Tagaza. Confess willingly, or when Mother Northwind gets here, you will confess
unwillingly
.”

Tagaza held himself very still, eyes searching Falk's face. And then, to Falk's surprise . . . and fury . . . he had the gall to smile. “Bring her,” he said softly. “Bring your pet mindreader, Falk. I welcome her to look inside my mind. In fact,” his voice grew stronger, “I
demand
it.
I have nothing to hide!
”

“Nothing?” Falk said. “You will have
no
control over what she gleans from your mind, Tagaza. Do not think that, because you are First Mage, you can stand against her. I have seen her work. You may be a master of hard magic, but she is the master of soft. You will not be able to keep
anything
hidden from her, Tagaza.
Anything
. Even if you are innocent of my specific accusations, is there
nothing
you are guilty of? Is there
nothing
hidden away in your head that you do not want known by me?”

And still the First Mage didn't quail. He met Falk's gaze and said, firmly and clearly, “Nothing.”

Falk's eyes narrowed. He hadn't expected that; hadn't expected Tagaza to remain so constant in denial when faced with the threat of Mother Northwind rummaging through his memories. For the first time he doubted his suspicion.
Well
, he thought,
if this is more than simple bravado, there's an easy way for him to prove it
.

“If that is true,” he said, “and if you still support the Plan . . . there is a way for you to demonstrate that.”

Tagaza turned his head a little to one side and his eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Find Brenna.”

Tagaza's eyes shot wide. “Find her? But—”

“She has fled the manor. Use the spell that finds the Heir. Tell me where she is.”

Tagaza looked thoughtful. “Even if I do . . . you still won't have Karl.”

“I can manage without him if I must,” Falk said. “This close to the end, he's almost superfluous. Of course I must continue my aggressive search for him—to remind the Commoners of their proper place, if nothing else—but I am willing to consider the possibility you are telling the truth about not being involved in his disappearance—
if
you find Brenna for me.”

“I'll be sentencing her to death,” Tagaza said.