Bookworm III Read online

  “I know what it’s like to be deprived,” Johan countered.

  “Do you?” Cass asked. “I fancy you never really lacked for anything you needed to keep you alive.”

  “Except respect,” Daria said, as she entered the room. She had a towel wrapped around her chest, much to Johan’s relief. “And without respect, you have nothing.”

  Johan shrugged. “I’ll go wash myself now,” he said. At least he had a couple of changes of clothes in his quarters, even if they had been planning to abandon them. “You two keep an eye on Elaine and try not to kill each other.”

  Daria made a rude gesture; Cass merely snorted. Johan laughed to himself, then walked out the door and down the long corridor, past an endless series of portraits of library staff through the ages. Elaine’s portrait sat at the end of the corridor, but if her name hadn’t been written below the painting, Johan wouldn’t have known it was her. The painting looked so prim and proper that Elaine looked a great deal older, as well as cleaner. She’d never had such an air of authority in her life.

  “They’re meant to imply that we were all the same, really,” Elaine had said, when he’d first found the paintings and asked who they were. “Look at the expressions.”

  Johan nodded to himself. The library staff had come in all shapes and colours, but their paintings showed them with the same cold expressions, the same unspoken warning that anyone who dared desecrate the books would suffer torments beyond imagination. It was a warning people would do well to heed, Johan knew, as he turned and walked the rest of the way to his quarters. There were books in the Great Library that were literally irreplaceable.

  It felt warmer now that Elaine had returned, he noted; the lights had come on, allowing him to pick his way through the building without risking using his magic to light his path. But it still felt eerie, as though the library had been permanently abandoned. It was a relief to enter his quarters, glance at the bed and then start to undress. His clothes were right where he’d left them, in compartments under the bed.

  Good thing Elaine insisted I buy more, Johan thought. He’d dreaded the thought of spending hours picking through clothing stores with her – Charity had loved spending days shopping – but Elaine had been almost brutally efficient. I ended up with more than I could take with me.

  He dug out a change of clothing, then stepped into the shower and sighed in relief as the warm water washed over his body. It was tempting to stay in the water – he knew the Great Library had an unlimited supply of spell-cleaned and warmed water – but there was no time to waste. Instead, he stopped the water, towelled himself dry and stepped back into his room, where he pulled his shirt and trousers on. Once he was dressed, he looked at his desk – a handful of letters still sat there, where he’d left them – and then reached out and picked them up. Most of them, sent before his supposed death, were useless – or worrying. The Great Houses had moved from being completely unaware of his existence to trying to court him into their ranks.

  And to think I could have been something better, if my powers had developed earlier, Johan thought, as he picked up an envelope and opened it carefully. But I had soured on my family by the time my powers emerged into the light.

  He glanced down at the contents, then shook his head in disbelief. It was yet another offer from his father, written before their final meeting; yet another attempt to lure him back into the fold. Angrily, Johan tore it into scraps of paper and dropped them on the desk, then turned and strode out of the room. Magic flickered around him – the lights dimmed for a long moment – as he walked, leaving him puzzled and alarmed. Was it his fault?

  “Cass went to watch our enemies,” Daria said, as Johan entered the reading room. “They’re trying to break the wards.”

  “Let us hope they hold out,” Johan muttered, as he knelt down next to Elaine. His mistress was still fast asleep, so deeply asleep she wasn’t even dreaming. “Has she moved?”

  “She’s just been lying there,” Daria said. “But her scent doesn’t indicate she’s in trouble.”

  Johan looked back at her, realising – once again – just how open the werewolf packs had to be with one another. There was no point in trying to hide one’s feelings, not when no one could control or even deaden their scents. Daria would know if one of her brothers had had an intimate moment with his girlfriend, or ... Johan shook his head, grimly. He knew more than he wanted to know about Jamal’s activities and he had no inhuman sense of smell. But, for the werewolves, it was natural and right.

  Perhaps that makes them the better people, he thought, dryly. They would know if their words were causing distress.

  “Good,” he said, dully.

  “Cass left a potion for you on the desk,” Daria said, indicating a small bottle. “It should give you enough energy to remain awake for a few more hours, if you need it.”

  “But then it all catches up with you,” Johan said, softly. He’d used such potions before, only to find that they worked well ... until tiredness came crashing down like a hammer. “I might not wake up in time to help, if they broke down the wards.”

  “Then take a nap over there,” Daria said, pointing to the corner. “I think we should be fine, for a while. The Great Library is protecting its mistress from all harm.”

  Johan looked over at the corner. It didn’t look very comfortable, but it probably looked better to a werewolf. He thought about going back to his own bed, then dismissed the thought. It would be better if they stayed together, he told himself, no matter what else happened. The Great Library was too large for them to risk being separated, if the wards fell.

  “I’ll read for a while,” he said, instead. He walked over to the bookshelves, selected a book at random, then sat down at one of the desks. “I don’t want to fall asleep.”

  He looked at the book, then started to flick through the pages, taking in nothing. It was so hard to concentrate on the written word when Elaine was in trouble and they were under siege, even if they were relatively safe for the moment. There were ample stocks of food in the basements, he knew; Elaine had supervised the purchases personally, just to make sure she could feed the Court Wizards who had reserved quarters in the Great Library. They could survive for years, if necessary, without having to leave the building. But the Emperor would never leave them alone.

  “If nothing else, he wouldn’t be able to leave us here without admitting he’d lost control of the Great Library,” he muttered to himself. “And the Court Wizards would take note.”

  Daria looked up. “We can’t stay here indefinitely,” she agreed. “But where can we go?”

  Johan closed the book and looked at her. “House Conidian,” he said. “It’s the last place they would look for us.”

  Cass swept into the room, looking disgustingly alert. “They’re struggling with the outer wards,” she said, shortly. Her blonde hair gleamed under the light as she sat on one of the desks and crossed her long legs. “I think we have days, at least, before they start posing a real threat.”

  “But we will have to leave eventually,” Johan pointed out. “House Conidian would be a good place to hide, at least until we can leave the city.”

  “They’ll start searching the city as soon as they discover we’re not in the Great Library,” Cass pointed out, sweetly. “Why would they leave House Conidian out of the search?”

  “Because they wouldn’t expect us to go there,” Johan said. “We’d want to hide among the poor, or perhaps back in the Blight. House Conidian would be practically hiding in plain sight.”

  “Might be worth trying,” Cass said. She shrugged, expressively. “But we have to get out of the current trap first.”

  She studied Johan through bright blue eyes. “Tell me about your powers,” she said. It wasn’t a request. “How do they actually work?”

  “I make things happen,” Johan said. “That’s the best I can say.”

  Daria snorted. “How do you make things happen?”

  “I don’t know,” Johan said.
“I can do some things, but not others.”

  “I see,” Cass said. “What can’t you do?”

  “I can’t brew potions,” Johan said. “And I can’t use magic on myself, I think.”

  “That isn’t always a bad thing,” Cass pointed out. “People who use magic on themselves tend to come to sticky ends.”

  She frowned. “To make a potion, you need to use your magic to unlock the magic within the ingredients,” she mused. “But it’s a gradual process. If things aren’t done in precisely the right order, you end up with sludge.”

  “There are magicians who have problems manipulating their own magic to make potions,” Daria said, slowly. “Johan could merely be having the same problem.”

  “No,” Johan said. “Elaine was very clear that I wasn’t manipulating the potion at all. My results were no better than a mundane trying to make a potion like one would cook a stew.”

  He paused. “I can cast a spell, if I know what the spell is meant to do,” he added, “and I can make things happen if I know what I want to do ... but I don’t know if I am really casting a spell.”

  “Interesting,” Cass mused. “Intent is important, naturally, but so is following the steps to channel one’s magic. Yet you seem to bypass the steps and jump immediately to the final outcome. There’s quite a puzzle there, Johan.”

  She frowned. “Do you get tired?”

  “No,” Johan said. “I don’t get tired at all.”

  “Even the strongest magicians get tired,” Cass said, thinking out loud. “Or have you merely not discovered your limits?”

  “I don’t know,” Johan said. “Do you have a plan for using my magic?”

  “I would prefer to know what I was dealing with before I tried to use it,” Cass said. “So far, your powers seem dangerously unpredictable. Have you ever had any problems?”

  “I smashed a table,” Johan said. “I was trying to levitate the table and it just shot upwards and slammed into the ceiling. There was no fine control at all.”

  “But you did have fine control when you were removing a person’s magic,” Cass said, darkly. “Or did you just wish for the final outcome?”

  Johan shifted, uncomfortably. “I wanted them to suffer,” he admitted. “And nothing would hurt worse than losing their powers.”

  “I imagine so,” Daria said, briskly. She stood up in one smooth motion. “Why don’t you show me where the kitchens are? We’re all going to need something to eat.”

  “Of course,” Johan said. He couldn’t help feeling relieved. Daria had probably picked up on his unease and stopped the questioning. “But I should warn you my cooking skills are not good.”

  “Werewolves can eat anything,” Daria said, as she opened the door. “So can Inquisitors.”

  “I’m not an Inquisitor any longer,” Cass reminded her, dryly. “Maybe it’s time to start developing a few expensive tastes.”

  Daria laughed, then pulled Johan out the door and down the corridor.

  “Thank you,” Johan said, once they were out of earshot. “I was starting to feel like she would never stop asking questions I couldn’t answer.”

  “It’s always annoying when someone does that,” Daria agreed. “My older cousin really hated it when I badgered him about his wife. Why did he marry her? I asked. Because she smelled right, he said. But why does she smell right? I asked. Because she does, he said. And eventually he raged to my parents about my questions.”

  “Oh,” Johan said. He hated to imagine what his father would have said if his cousin had reported him for pestering her. “And what did they do?”

  “Told me I’d understand when I was a little bit older,” Daria said. “I was just a kid.”

  Johan smiled, remembering some of his father’s comments, before he’d realised that Johan would never amount to anything. They’d always ended with a note that he would understand once he was a grown man. And, even now, Johan wasn’t sure he did understand. Perhaps he’d been spared some horrors by being born without magic.

  He stopped dead as a new sensation echoed down the link. Elaine was waking up.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Elaine’s eyes snapped open.

  For a few moments, she honestly wasn’t sure where she was. Her memories were a blur; she recalled Deferens, and Charity Conidian, and then ... and then everything was blurred until she opened her eyes, back in the Great Library. The wards touched her mind seconds later, before she could start to panic. She knew where she was ... and she knew she was safe. And that was all that mattered.

  Alarms echoed through the wards as she sat upright. There were people outside, people trying to break through the protections surrounding the library. Elaine tested the wards quickly, one by one, and discovered they were still holding firm. It would take days, perhaps weeks, for the wardcrafters to shatter the wards, or even force them to allow a handful of magicians to enter the building. And even if they did, the Great Library wouldn’t be defenceless. Corridors would lead to nowhere, entire subsections of the library would vanish, taking unwanted intruders with them ... and, at worst, the knowledge within the Black Vault could be turned against the enemy.

  “Better stay still for the moment,” a voice advised. It took Elaine a moment to recognise Cass, kneeling beside her. “You’ve had a nasty shock.”

  “I know,” Elaine said. Her mind hurt. She might have freed herself from the spell, but there was no way to know if she’d eradicated all of its traces. “What’s the situation?”

  “The Great Library is surrounded,” Cass said. “Johan and Daria have gone to make breakfast. Other than that, I think I need to ask you.”

  Elaine rubbed her forehead, then forced herself to stand. Cass caught her arm and steadied her as she rose to her feet. Her limbs felt weak, as if she’d been very ill, but she was growing stronger as she moved. The wards helped, allowing her to draw on a little of their power, even though it risked draining them at the worst possible moment. Elaine placed her hands on the nearest table and rested for a long second, then stood on her own. There was a chilling moment when she thought she was going to faint, then the sensation faded away into nothingness. She was alive and well.

  “Thank you for your help,” she said. “But you’re going to have to tell me what happened in the palace. My mind’s a blur.”

  She listened to Cass’s words, allowing them to unlock the blurred parts of her memory. “He had children,” she said, suddenly. “Children from the Great Houses. But why?”

  “Hostages, perhaps,” Cass said, darkly. “Or worse.”

  “Vlad Deferens is the Emperor,” Elaine said, shaking her head in disbelief. It sounded like a bad joke; she’d known that Deferens had been a contender for the post of Grand Sorcerer, but having him become the Emperor ... the Witch-King had certainly laid his plots very well. “And he’s taking hostages. Why?”

  “The Great Houses won’t be happy about an Emperor,” Cass observed. “But I doubt they gave him anyone really important.”

  Elaine nodded, slowly. The Great Houses were utterly ruthless at times. Johan’s father had been quite willing to do whatever it took to lure him back to the family, destroying a budding romance along the way. If the Family Heads had sent hostages, she would have bet half her salary that the hostages were the youngest children, the ones who were suitable only as pawns in the endless struggle for good marriages. Deferens might discover that he’d lulled himself into a false sense of security.

  “I suppose,” she said, finally. “What do we do now?”

  “Get out of this building,” Cass said. “We may be safe, for the moment, but we can’t do anything to help Light Spinner or stop the Emperor.”

  She paused. “You were going to find the Witch-King,” she said. “Did it occur to you that he might be buried below the Golden City?”

  Elaine shook her head. “I thought about it,” she answered, “but there are thousands of magicians in the city. Having his body hidden here would be an unacceptable risk.”

&nb
sp; “But the Golden City was the capital of the Empire even back then,” Cass pointed out. “He might not have had a choice.”

  Elaine closed her eyes, remembering the stories that had been decanted into her head. The Witch-King had been the hero of the First Necromantic War, then the villain of the Second. He had killed most of the Imperial Bloodline personally, perhaps in a desperate attempt to take power, then created great and terrifying armies to sweep across the land. And then he had been defeated, but his body had never been found. Could it have been slipped back to the Golden City? She doubted it; back then, there had been far more sorcerers with experience in dealing with the darkest of forbidden magics. They would have found the lich and destroyed it before the Witch-King could recover his strength.

  And even if he had somehow evaded their watchful gaze, Elaine was sure, he would have had to hide from successive Grand Sorcerers and the Inquisitors too. She knew how thoroughly the Golden City was monitored for unexpected and unexplained bursts of magic, particularly after the Blight had been created. The Witch-King would have been taking a ghastly risk if he had kept his body in the city, assuming – of course – that he’d been able to leave. A lich wasn’t always mobile. It would depend, the knowledge in her head told her, on just what condition the body had been in, at the moment it had been frozen in mortal stasis. And there was no way she could answer that question until they found the body.

  “It would be an insane risk,” she said, slowly. “And he would have had to make his way back to the city in any case.”

  “Yeah,” Cass said. “So where did he fall?”

  “Beyond the Garston Mountains,” Elaine said, flatly. “We were planning to go there when Deferens took the Golden Throne.”

  She looked up as Johan and Daria entered the room, Johan carrying a large plate of bacon sandwiches and Daria carrying a tray with several mugs of hot tannin. Johan put his plate down on the nearest table, then leant forward and gave Elaine a hug. She hugged him back, then gently let go of the younger man. Johan reached for the plate and held it under her nose. Elaine took one of the sandwiches, then motioned for him to share them out. After so long without food, it tasted heavenly.