by Tim Susman
Kip nodded quickly. “Farley summoned a demon, a big one. Malcolm dismissed it, but it got both of them. They’re downstairs.”
“And you?” Splint asked, then called, “Quetz. Quetz? Damn, what could be—Kikka!”
A raven flew in from the inner office and landed on Splint’s desk. “Go get Master Patris and bring him to the Great Hall.”
The raven croaked once and took off. “I know,” Splint said to Kip, “but Patris will have to know, and the sooner the better.”
“Maybe I should be gone before he arrives.” They hurried to the stairs, and Kip looked up. “In fact…” He thrust his tail at Splint. “Take this. I need to go find Emily.”
“But Penfold—“
“Take care of Malcolm! I’ll be there soon.” Kip hoped dearly that he was telling the truth.
21
The Answer
On the third floor landing, Kip nearly ran full tilt into Master Patris. The headmaster stopped, eyes so wide they appeared mostly white for a moment. “What are you doing here?” he growled.
“Go see Master Splint, he’ll explain!” Kip ran up the stairs as fast as he could before the jarring in his tailbone and groin nauseated him. Then he slowed for a few steps to let his stomach calm and ran up again.
“You,” Patris shouted behind him, “go follow him!”
That wasn’t aimed at Kip, or if it was, Kip paid it no mind. At the fifth floor landing he heard voices, and when he rounded the next dogleg he saw Emily and Master Albright waiting for him on the sixth floor.
“Kip!” Emily said. “Did Master Splint heal—some of you?” She craned her neck so she could see that he was still missing his tail.
“I’m fine,” he said, and took a breath. “You’ll have to have magic prepared as I’ve been expelled and don’t have any. Thank you for coming, Master Albright.”
“I’m only doing my duty,” Albright said mildly.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs below them. Emily looked past Kip and her expression darkened. “What’s he doing here?”
“Headmaster Patris enjoined me to follow Penfold,” Victor Adamson said, “most likely because Penfold is no longer permitted in the Tower. Good day, sir, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. My name is Victor Adamson and I am Headmaster Patris’s apprentice.”
“Get out of here,” Emily snapped.
Kip held up a paw. “He’ll be a valuable witness if we find what we think we find.”
“Valuable?” Emily’s voice rose. “Did you hear his account of Alice’s kidnapping?”
“I related the facts as I saw them,” Adamson said calmly, his hand still outstretched to Master Albright.
Albright watched this exchange with interest. He nodded to Adamson but did not extend his own hand. “I am Master Albright of King’s College London,” he said. “I have no material objection to Mister Adamson joining us. Another apprentice will be useful.”
“He doesn’t have any magical ability,” Kip said.
“Those are just the facts as we see them.” Emily looked daggers at Adamson.
The blond apprentice nodded. “It is true; however, I have applied myself in the area of magical study and I daresay knowledge will be as useful as magic.”
“We’re wasting time,” Kip said.
“Right.” Emily swept down the hallway and paused at the middle door. “This one, Kip?” When he nodded, she gathered magic as she tried the handle. “Locked.”
“Can you force it?”
“With magic? Maybe.”
“Allow me.” Master Albright stepped between them and put his hand to the door. He murmured a spell, and the door’s latch clicked open. “There we go.”
They walked cautiously into a dusty room that contained only two old cots thick with cobwebs. The door to the main room stood ajar, and beyond it Kip could see a chair and bookshelf. Unlike most of the bookshelves he’d seen in Prince George’s and King’s College, this one was mostly empty save for a few books on the bottom shelf and some scrolls on the top one. Coppy’s scent was thick in the air, as was Master Windsor’s. “They were here,” he said. “But they’re not now. Windsor—Master Windsor—must have taken him somewhere.”
He followed Emily into the main room, Albright and Adamson trailing him. Next to the chair was a small stand with stains on the wood, and a threadbare plain woven carpet occupied the middle of the floor. Kip examined the stains on the stand. “Blood,” he said.
Emily had gone to the bookshelf and knelt to examine the titles of the books. “Hecataeus. Didn’t Windsor ask us about that during our exams?”
“Aye.” Kip and Adamson both replied, and exchanged a look. Kip went on. “I don’t understand why he would work in this office, with spiritual sorcerers on either side.”
Master Albright turned from examining the walls. “This office is strongly warded against spiritual magic. We are undetectable in here, and I would guess that the other inhabitants of the college have forgotten our existence while we’re in this room.”
“Fascinating,” Victor said.
Emily shot Kip a wide-eyed look, and he knew she was remembering his “disappearing” trick. To distract from the subject, he asked, “Any clues where he might have gone?”
Master Albright cleared his throat. “If I may make a suggestion. Miss Carswell, your specialty is translocation, is it not? You have sent letters to Penfold in London, I believe?”
“Yes.” She straightened.
“Translocating to the side of a person you know well is a difficult spell, but it may be our only chance. Can you bring us to your friend?”
Emily opened her mouth to respond and then looked at Kip. She nodded. “I’ll do it. I’ll try to bring all of you with me, but,” here her eyes shifted to Adamson, “I’m still learning. I apologize if anyone is left behind.”
“Bring him if you can,” Kip said softly, stepping closer to her. “I know, but…he is Patris’s representative and Patris is headmaster.”
She scowled and put her mouth to his uninjured ear, lowering her voice to the softest of whispers. “We don’t always have to obey the rules.”
“In this case,” Kip responded just as quietly.
Albright and Adamson watched as Emily stepped back, fixing both with an arch stare. “Very well,” she said.
Her right hand, wreathed in lavender, closed firmly around Kip’s wrist, and her other hand reached out to take Master Albright’s. Adamson moved two steps closer and took Kip’s free paw. “Will this work?” he asked.
Emily didn’t favor him with a response. She breathed in to start the spell, but Master Albright spoke up. “We will have a moment of surprise. I will prepare an immobility spell that will prevent Master Windsor from casting anything. Then we can make an examination and get to the truth. I agree that this does not look good, but it does not mean that he engineered the attack on the college.” His stern look swept the three apprentices, and all three nodded. “Very well. Proceed, Miss Carswell.”
Emily took a breath, then spoke the words. “He’s a long way,” she said.
“Distance is irrelevant,” Master Albright told her. “Use the connection. Do you feel it?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “I—”
“—do.” They were standing in a stuffy, warm room lit only by two oil lamps. Kip took in the most important sight right away: Coppy lying on a wooden bench, Windsor holding a wicked knife very like the one Farley had held, a small stand with a bronze goblet. Windsor turned toward them and Kip had a moment to think, wait, an immobility spell won’t work on a Master because they can speak the spells without moving their tongue.
And then Master Windsor straightened and brushed down his robe. “Penfold, Miss Carswell. I expected your third to be O’Brien.”
Kip nearly gathered magic then. “Coppy!” he called.
The otter turned toward Kip at the sound of his name, and his eyes widened. He struggled against cords that bound his arms to the bench; he opened his mouth but no sound came
out. Kip’s heart thumped against the inside of his chest and he hurried forward, but someone behind him grabbed his arm, jerking him to a halt.
“Lutris is not speaking at present,” Master Windsor said. “You have them, Charles?”
Kip turned, but not fast enough to stop Master Albright from seizing his other arm and binding his wrists together behind his back. This pulled on several of his bruises and jarred his tail wound, but he ignored the flares of pain. “You were part of this all along,” he snarled at Albright, furious at himself for not listening to his original doubts.
Beyond the sorcerer, Adamson was also struggling, arms behind his back, while Emily stood rigid, evidently the victim of the immobility spell Albright had prepared. “Of course I was,” Albright said, “and now that it’s obvious you’ve no need to speak it aloud.”
“Did you kill Gugin?” Kip demanded.
Albright raised his eyebrows. “Aye. Thank you for discovering that he knew about the glass beads. That could have been disastrous for a number of reasons.”
“He didn’t know what they were. You didn’t have to kill him.”
“Ah, but he might have given you more of a clue—in fact, I have not ruled out the possibility that he already has—but to be honest, we have a history, he and I. To my mind, King’s College is better for his demise.” Albright smiled thinly.
“Penfold,” Windsor said. “Attend to what I have to tell you. You as well, Adamson and Miss Carswell.”
“Whyever for?” Kip snapped. “Are you about to tell me you have some greater purpose in killing a hundred of your colleagues?”
“Closer to two hundred,” Windsor said calmly. “Do not neglect Prince Philip’s. I took no joy in the act, but it was necessary for history. Had Hecatæus taken a few lives in the Ionian cities, thousands might have been spared a devastating war.”
“Enough history, David,” Albright said. “And Penfold, you owe him some courtesy. If not for his argument, you would not have a chance to survive this day.”
“You killed Forrest!” Kip cried.
Master Windsor raised a hand. “If I am forced to silence you, I will, but I would prefer to concentrate my efforts on the spell we are about to cast. Let me explain the choice that lies before you. Prince George’s College is about to cease to exist. You provided the clue that a spirit protected the Tower against the last attack; you will momentarily provide me the name of that spirit so I may cause my demon to remove it.”
Kip opened his mouth to protest and then fell silent. He spared a glance back at Adamson, who shifted his gaze between Kip and Windsor, and Albright, who was watching Emily.
“If you choose to do this voluntarily, you and Miss Carswell and even Lutris here will miraculously survive the destruction of the College. With myself and Charles here, we will rebuild the Colleges in the colonies. I have assured Charles that you all understand that you are party to the act we are about to commit, and that this complicity will mean your silence. I should emphasize that you will be granted the opportunity to be full sorcerers at the new college, regardless of your sex or race.” His gaze shifted between Kip and Emily. “Both of you have displayed the talent and passion required of sorcerers, and I feel confident that you would be a valuable part of the Empire’s magical force.”
“You’re bribing us?” Kip asked bitterly.
“I am outlining one path you might choose,” Windsor said. “Allow me to explain the other.”
“You kill us all, basically,” Kip said.
“After plucking the name from your mind, yes.” Windsor gestured to Master Albright. “Charles has some amount of training in the spiritual arts.”
“The otter’s memories were my doing,” Albright said with pride.
“But why are you doing this?” Kip asked, as much because he wanted to know as to buy himself time.
The answer came not from before him but from behind, in Victor Adamson’s quiet voice. “Because they are loyal to the Empire,” he said. “Because the revolutionaries were defeated by sorcery forty years ago, and now they will not move without Colonial sorcerers. There are some in the Royal Army, of course, but they are all under British command. The College, even a crippled College, could provide a rallying point for revolutionary sorcerers.”
“Full marks, Adamson.” Windsor turned back to Kip. “A protracted revolution, though sure to fail, could leave the Empire vulnerable to the Spanish in many places. By removing the lynchpin of the revolutionaries’ hope, we forestall such a war before it could even begin.”
“And in the process,” Albright went on, “keep the Colonies where they belong for another half-century.”
“You didn’t have to do that. You don’t have to do this.” Kip tried to keep his voice under control. “Patris is loyal.”
“Patris is loyal to the College,” Windsor said. “Penfold, you know even less about the politics that go on between the sorcerers of the College than you do about translocational magic. I have heard the discussions, including many that people did not know I was privy to. At least a third of the sorcerers at the College favor revolution strongly, and that may not seem like many, but the remaining ones, present company excepted, do not feel a strong loyalty to the Empire. It would take very little to sway them, and I believe you were present for the recent visit by Mr. John Quincy Adams that was the first salvo in that battle. Despite Charles’ and my entreaties, London seems content to rest on her reputation rather than send countervailing emissaries.”
“Sir,” Adamson said, “won’t the Empire be vulnerable as well by destroying all of the sorcerers in the Colonies?”
“Somewhat,” Windsor said. “But—”
Albright interrupted. “Not as much nor for as long as in the case of a revolution. Our spies report that the Spanish have not fully recovered from the Napoleon campaign and would likely not strike.”
“As they did not after last May,” Windsor said calmly, “though we were prepared for that eventuality.”
This whole scene was hard for Kip to take in. He kept staring at Coppy, who was staring back at him. But what could he do? He’d shifted twice already but he couldn’t find a position where he was certain that neither Albright nor Windsor could see his arms if he started to gather magic.
“Enough talk,” Albright said.
“Patience, Charles.” Windsor pointed to Kip with the knife. “We have asked Penfold to make a choice. He is entitled to a full explanation before making it.”
“I’m not going to be the only one to choose,” Kip said. “I can’t speak for Emily, or Coppy. Or Adamson,” he added, turning. Victor watched him impassively. Emily he couldn’t read; she was still immobilized staring straight ahead.
“This is ridiculous.”
“Not at all.” Windsor held up a hand. “We have discussed this for years, and these youngsters should have a little bit of time in order to make their decision. Can you free Miss Carswell’s arms? I believe she may indicate her preference with a raise of her left hand to join our cause, right hand to perish in the coming tragedy. Lutris, I assume, will go along with Penfold’s decision.”
“They should trust their superiors,” Albright said, but a moment later Emily lifted her right hand defiantly, making a rude gesture at Windsor.
“Can you get Malcolm out?” Kip asked. “You said you were expecting him anyway.”
Emily’s hand dipped slightly. Albright looked disgusted. “For God’s sake, David.”
“Patience.” Windsor had bent to the straps binding Coppy’s arm to the bench with his knife, but only drew the point of the knife across them, not cutting them. The knife was also very close to Coppy’s chest, and the threat as Windsor met Kip’s eyes was obvious. “Remember that we have a fire sorcerer here, and one—in your own words—considerably more sensible than Cott.”
“Cott can be made to be sensible,” Albright growled. “And Penfold is not being very sensible right now.” At Windsor’s look, he subsided. “Yes, yes, I know. Yes, we can extract O’Bri
en. He’ll know nothing of what happened here.”
“And Adamson?” Kip asked. He was stalling, knowing he couldn’t bring himself to condemn them all to death. He alone had led Coppy to the College, set him on the path that led to him being bound to the stone, and to reject Windsor’s horrific bargain would be the final betrayal.
Ironically, he’d pledged loyalty to the Empire just a month ago, and now, when to renew that oath would save the lives of his friends, he no longer felt the same loyalty. It wasn’t only that he would be making himself an accomplice to two dozen deaths. It was Mr. Gibbet, it was Abel’s missing tail, it was Farley. It was Patris and Peter’s master, who’d taken credit for his spell so that Peter no longer remembered that he had invented it. It was the town of New Cambridge, so afraid of change that they’d driven his parents out. It was the town of Peachtree, hoping for a bright new future in the wake of their own tragedy.
If they remained part of the Empire, he could bring about change, as he’d always believed, but now he saw how slowly that change might happen. What incentive would anyone have to listen to him? How many Calatians would be maimed or killed, how many would see their talents wasted, in the years it would take for his example to take root? Mr. Adams and his friends were human, yes, but they had reached out to Calatians as part of their revolution, and they were a chance to make a change now.
There had to be some other way he could save Coppy. If only he could wipe Peter’s name from his mind, or be sure neither Albright nor Windsor would see him gathering magic…if he could pull the magic into himself, then he could bring fire to his aid again.
“Everyone here is included,” Windsor said impatiently.
Kip squeezed his arms as tightly behind him as he could. Breathing, trying not to betray his action, he gathered magic, trying to go slowly. It came up easily, and from the sensation, he knew his arms were showing the first flickers of a glow.
