The Spirit Siphon (Magebreakers Book 4)

by Ben S. Dobson

  If Endo was down there, he’d be able to use his magic freely.

  Only the upper section of the passage, where spells might have been noticed by someone above, had been dug out by non-magical means. Here, further down, the walls were too smooth and uniform, clearly shaped by spellcraft. It was dark, too, the thick black kind of dark that only existed beneath the earth where no light could reach. Indree had summoned up a silver-blue ball of magelight to illuminate their way—a risk when they’d still been close to the city, but it had been that or go back for a light source, and there wasn’t time.

  They descended single-file in utter silence, Indree leading the way with her light. Kadka was just behind her, and then Lieutenant Berken. Tane had sent Tinga down next so he could take the rear guard position, in case anyone came down after them. He should probably have told her to go back to the embassy, but it wasn’t like she’d have listened, and a goblin girl wouldn’t be much safer wandering alone outside Belgrier’s non-human district anyway.

  After a long descent down the stairway, a glimmer of silver-blue magelight became visible ahead. Indree pointed, but said nothing; they were close now, and it would make things easier if they could surprise Endo. As they neared the light, Tane could make out some details, though the angle was too steep to see much yet. It looked as if the stairway opened into a cavern of some sort, or at least the floor was of rough natural stone.

  A cave again. That can’t be good luck. At least in the dragon’s den outside Thaless they’d had Bastian’s men with them. Now they were just five against whatever Endo had waiting.

  Indree paused just above the mouth of the cavern, and drew her baton. Kadka produced a pair of knives from wherever she’d had them hidden, and Berken readied her shortsword and ancryst pistol. Tane shared a glance with Tinga. Neither of them were going to be much use in a fight by comparison, especially with no weapons to ready. He had Berken’s nullifier, but that was short-ranged and short-lived. His charms had all been taken away when they’d entered Belgrier. We’re showing up to the ball under-dressed, here. He didn’t care for the feeling.

  But if Thorpe’s machine had been repurposed to animate the dead, someone had to decipher exactly how it was doing that. And whatever happened, he wasn’t going to miss seeing Endo taken down. He knew by the look on her face that Tinga felt the same. He spread his hands silently, saying it as best he could without words. We’ll do what we can. She shrugged back, gave him a slight, anxious smile. They understood each other. Useful or not, they were part of this, and they were going to see it through.

  Weapon in hand, Indree led them into the cavern.

  It wasn’t as large as the dragon’s den, but it was large enough, perhaps thirty yards across and lit by mage-lamps standing throughout. On the far right, an unlit passage disappeared into darkness.

  And at the center of the chamber sat Endo Stooke, small and unassuming in his ancryst-powered wheelchair. He didn’t look like a dangerous man bent on magical domination; he looked like the clever, earnest young gnome who had fooled Tane when they’d first met. His head was bent over the controls of a machine Tane knew all too well: one of Felisa Thorpe’s design. A large brass ball sat at its apex, held aloft by three brass columns that rose from the panel of switches and dials that held Endo’s attention. An illusory pane of dark blue hovered above the panel, lit with a number of bright silver auras representing the Astral signatures nearby.

  Chancellor Wilnam Urnt was strapped into a reclined seat beside the instrument panel, and a copper cable extended from the machine to a shackle that closed around his wrist. He lay motionless, as if unconscious.

  Or dead.

  A half-dozen others surrounded the machine: a pair of dwarven women, a goblin man, an older human woman with a sprite man on her shoulder, a gnome boy who couldn’t have been much older than Tinga. The non-magicals Thiamor had warned Tinga about, presumably. Astra, let them listen to reason. It’ll get ugly if they refuse to stand down.

  They appeared to be on guard; they saw Tane and the others immediately. The chamber wasn’t large enough to avoid it.

  “Hey! Stop!” the goblin yelled, pointing at them. “Architect, there’s someone here!”

  There goes the element of surprise. “Endo!” Tane shouted, advancing with the others until there were only a few yards between them and the men and women standing guard. “Step away from the machine, and let Urnt go!” He didn’t know what they were doing, if Urnt had already been reanimated. Maybe it was just some sort of necessary upkeep, but he had a feeling it was something worse—some part of their plan to drum up a war. The next step, whatever it was.

  Endo looked over his shoulder, apparently unconcerned. “Ah, you’re here. I thought you would—”

  Before he could finish, Kadka’s arm moved, and a knife blurred through the air at his head.

  Endo raised a hand and spoke quickly in the lingua. The blade met a shield of silver-blue force and clattered harmlessly to the floor. The dome of energy remained, surrounding the machine and the people nearby. The motley guard Endo had assembled moved to stand between him and any further attack, even with the shield in the way.

  “Rude,” Endo commented mildly. “Is that any way to treat an old friend, Kadka?” If the strain of holding the shield bothered him, he didn’t show it.

  Berken stepped ahead of Indree before anyone else could speak, and held up her badge. “I am Lieutenant Thilde Berken of the Belgrian Guard. Everyone but Endo Stooke and Chancellor Wilnam Urnt is ordered to leave immediately. If you do not fight us, you will be released without punishment. I will not make this offer again.”

  Endo’s protectors glanced at one another, and Tane could feel their hesitation.

  They need convincing. He stepped up beside Berken. “Whatever Endo told you, he’s lying,” he said. “You don’t know who he is. He fled from Audland because he’s wanted for trying to hurt people like you. People without magic.”

  A few concerned looks, but the sprite fluttered into the air and shook his head. “No, he’s going to give us magic. With his machine!”

  “That’s not possible,” said Tane. “Whatever he’s going to do to you, it isn’t that. It’s something much worse.”

  “You can’t trust Endo!” Tinga said, moving to Tane’s side. “Please, you have to listen to us. Vaelon Thiamor sent me. He knows the truth. We just want to help you. I promise, we mean it when we say we’ll let you go. You have to get out of here.”

  “Vaelon? You spoke to him?” One of the dwarves tried to step closer, but the shield stopped him. He looked back at Endo, confused.

  It’s two way. Keeping them in. Spellfire, what is he going to do with them? And Tane wasn’t the only one who’d realized something was wrong; all six of Endo’s makeshift guard were looking back at the man they called the Architect.

  Endo pivoted his chair around to face them. “They’re bluffing, of course,” he said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I mean to change the world, and that is terrifying to some people. Those who are comfortable with things remaining as they are.” He looked to Tane. “I told you not to come. Whatever happens next, remember that I did warn you.”

  “We know what you’re doing, Endo,” Tane said. “We know what you’re using the machine for. You’re killing people and bringing them back under your control. Like Chancellor Urnt.” He looked to the confused men and women inside the shield. “He’ll do the same to all of you.”

  Indree grabbed his arm even as he said it. Her eyes were focused on something far away, some divination. She was frowning. “Tane, something’s wrong.”

  Endo started to laugh. “Listen to the Inspector, Tane. You should really check before you start making claims.”

  Indree’s eyes came back into focus. “Urnt… he feels different than the others. I couldn’t get a strong sense of it when we were further away, but he feels… normal.”

  “So our secret is out.” Endo’s eyes sparkled with a kind of menacing mischief. “Reanimation is cer
tainly useful for placing agents under my control, but did you really think it was the best use I could come up with for this lovely machine? I’m insulted. One cannot rely on puppets for everything. Wilnam, you may as well stop pretending.”

  Chancellor Urnt opened his eyes and sat upright in his chair. He wore an expression of deep regret.

  “Spellfire,” Tane breathed as he realized the truth. “You’re working with him. You did this willingly.” It made no sense. This man had nothing to gain from helping Endo and everything to lose. “Why?”

  Urnt shook his head sadly. “You shouldn’t have come,” he said. He sounded like an entirely different man than the haughty chancellor who had disapproved of their presence from the beginning. “I tried to discourage you, keep you away from this. I have no quarrel with you.”

  “No quarrel?” Tane said incredulously. “You almost killed me with a spellfire detonation!”

  “On a delay,” Urnt said, as if it helped. “I expected you to avoid it. I hoped to scare you off. I couldn’t risk you finding the truth.”

  “Against my advisement, I might add,” said Endo. He was still smiling. Enjoying himself far too much. “Why don’t you show them the truth now, my friend? It’s too late for negotiation. Show them what brought you to my cause.”

  “I’m sorry,” Urnt said, and he sounded like he meant it. And then he raised the hand that wasn’t shackled to the machine, and spoke some words in what sounded like Belgrian. Tane’s earpiece didn’t translate it like the rest, though. Instead it crackled and squealed in his ear as if the artifact couldn’t handle the words.

  And then a sheet of silver spellfire leapt from Urnt’s hand, passing through Endo’s shield as if it wasn’t there.

  Indree snapped out a spell in response, and a shield of her own sprung up before them, catching the fire before it touched flesh. The flame dissipated against a dome of silver.

  For a moment, they all stood staring at each other in silence, each side viewing the other through the distortion of two shimmering protective fields.

  Kadka recovered her voice first. “You are mage,” she accused.

  Tane stared at Urnt, hardly able to believe it. “The Belgrian Kaiser’s chancellor is a mage. How?” For a fevered moment, he entertained the notion that Endo had truly found a way to grant magic to the magicless.

  “The usual way,” Urnt said, deflating that improbable idea. “I was born with magic. My family had the resources to cover it up when it manifested itself, to keep the secret when I was young and had difficulty controlling it. I have been forced to hide all my life. To pretend to hate what I am more virulently than anyone else, so that no one would suspect the truth. To live a constant lie, just to avoid being thrown in a workhouse. Can you imagine what that’s like? And most do not even have that luxury. Belgrier must change. These backwards, fearful beliefs cannot stand.” The words translated properly once more, and Tane realized what had happened before—Urnt could never have learned to cast in the lingua, so he only had his own language to work with. And apparently the earpiece couldn’t decipher spells, with so much Astral energy laced into the words.

  “You are a traitor!” Berken spat back. “Good Belgrians are dead because of you!”

  Urnt gave a tired sigh and shook his head. “How can I betray a nation that betrayed me from birth? You fight for the side that keeps people as slaves, Lieutenant. Do you truly believe that is just?”

  Berken’s eyes went to Indree, and she hesitated. “I…”

  “Ah, but you’ve already realized it, haven’t you?” Urnt said. “You’ve lost that certainty that the Guard worked so hard to instill. You still spout the words, but something has changed. You’ve seen the truth now, and it is not as simple as you have been told.” His conviction seemed to grow as he spoke, and he sat up straighter in his seat. “Belgrier’s magic must be set free, or we have no future. I am sorry you were caught up in this, but I cannot stop now.” He turned to Endo, then. “Do it.”

  Endo caught Tane’s eye, and gave him a small, sinister smile. “If you insist.” And then he reached out, and pulled the machine’s master switch.

  The machine activated, letting out a high-pitched whine.

  It felt as if something had reached into Tane’s lungs and was trying to pull all the air out of them, except it was happening all over his body. An icy cold spread from his chest into his veins, down his arms and legs, into his fingers and toes. Something vital was draining away. And he’d felt it before.

  It was exactly like the touch of a wraith.

  They’re siphoning our Astral link. If this doesn’t stop soon we’ll all be riven. He swayed on his feet, barely kept them underneath him. Beside him, Tinga grasped his arm to keep herself upright. Berken staggered, and Indree grabbed her shoulder to steady her.

  The last time he’d seen the machine, it hadn’t worked this way. Thorpe had needed to open targetted Astral channels to her victims to drain them. Endo must have improved the design somehow to allow a wider net without a specific target.

  Kadka fell to her knees, braced her hands against the floor. “What is this? Feels…” Her voice trailed off, and her head slumped between her shoulders, as if she didn’t have the energy to hold it up.

  And it wasn’t only them. Inside Endo’s shield, the men and women guarding him began to go pale, to stagger against the barrier, to claw weakly at the silver force with their hands.

  “Let them go!” Tinga demanded, and took a shaky step toward the shield.

  “No!” Tane said. “We have to get away from it.” If the machine isn’t Astrally fixed on us, it has to be working on proximity. We can get out of range. He grabbed Tinga by the wrist and pulled her back, took Kadka’s shoulder and tried to get her up. She was too heavy, and she didn’t offer any help herself. Didn’t seem able to. It was affecting her more and faster than the rest of them, somehow.

  “Get back!” Indree’s voice, and then she spoke in the lingua, and he was flying, hurled through the air away from the machine. He landed hard on his shoulder, grunted in pain.

  But it was enough. Just that small amount of distance freed him from the grip of the machine. The recovery was almost immediate. Life and warmth flowed back into him, and he was able to push himself up. Beside him, Tinga, Kadka, and Berken were doing the same.

  Indree wasn’t there.

  Tane whirled frantically, saw her still standing at the center of the cavern near the machine. She’d thrown them clear, but not herself. His heart dropped into his stomach. Astra, no.

  But Indree was still standing. And more than just standing—she was advancing, hurling spellfire against Endo’s shield in an attempt to break through. She shouldn’t have had the strength to do that, not with the machine draining her. Not while the guards inside the shield were beginning to fall still, too drained to resist as the machine siphoned off their Astral essence.

  And inside their shield, Endo and Urnt were still standing as well, watching it all happen.

  Tane’s mind raced. Of course they’d want to protect themselves, but the machine is draining everyone near it. How did they define exclusions? And why do those exclusions cover Indree?

  That was when he saw it.

  The only people left unaffected were the mages.

  That’s impossible. There’s no way to actively detect magecraft, or a lack of it. He can’t specifically target the non-magical.

  And yet… Felisa Thorpe’s machine could access the Astra directly, and do things that no one had thought possible before. It could see things no divination could, even detect Kadka through her Astral masking. And Endo had mentioned a grander purpose for it than reanimating the dead.

  Spellfire, it can’t be. But he didn’t believe himself. He knew what was happening, even if he wanted to deny it. He did it. He found a way. That’s what all this was really about.

  Endo Stooke had invented a weapon to exterminate the magicless. And he was going to use Stelihn as his testing ground.

  _____
<
br />   Indree advanced on Endo’s shield, throwing wave after wave of spellfire against it. It couldn’t hold forever. She wasn’t going to stand by and watch her friends be riven from the Astra without a fight.

  She’d seen Thorpe’s machine work before, seen people severed from the Astra as it drained their power away. But this was different, somehow. More targets at once, for one thing, and there was no visible reservoir for the elixir Thorpe had been so obsessed with distilling from the drained power. And for some reason, Indree herself was unaffected. She’d felt a brief moment of something like euphoria at the start, right after Endo flipped the switch—it had been very similar to the sensation of channelling the Astra to cast a spell. And then nothing. Nothing, as her friends went pale, stumbled, fell. Nothing, as Kadka—the strongest woman she knew—dropped to her knees, unable to speak. Nothing, as Endo’s own people struggled to escape the shield he’d trapped them inside, the light fading from their eyes.

  But whatever it was, whatever the reason she’d been spared, she wasn’t going to let this happen.

  She stood directly in front of Endo’s shield, and threw everything she had into the spellfire gouting from her hands.

  The silver wall flickered.

  Inside, Endo was watching the men and women collapsing around him with interest—not concern, but interest, like a man observing an experiment. But when the shield started to weaken, he looked up at Indree, and sighed. “Never enough time,” he said, and spoke a few words in the lingua, gesturing casually his at test subjects.

  All at once, they burst into silver flame. Their cries of anguish wove together into one sustained, terrible wail as they burned.

  “No!” Tinga screamed from somewhere behind.

  But it was already too late to save them. Spellfire worked fast. The silver flames died as they did—it had been targetted at living beings. In moments, nothing was left but charred remains.

  “Why?” Indree demanded. “They were helping you!” She kept up her assault, tearing at the shield with her own spellfire.