The Magelands Box Set

by Christopher Mitchell

  Shella turned, and they headed for the door.

  ‘What was all that about?’ Jodie said, once they were clear of the cathedral and walking across the deserted square. ‘It was like he was mad. I didn’t think he was going to let us go.’

  ‘Something’s rattled him,’ Shella said, ‘and it’s not just the Sanang. When Agang invaded last year, the Lord Vicar was as calm as anyone could be.’

  As they neared the barricade closing off the square to the street where they had entered, Shella gazed back at the institute. Smoke was seeping up from the building’s shattered and blackened windows, and part of its outer wall had collapsed. Dozens of One True Path were guarding it, with more inside.

  ‘Do you know what they’re doing in there, your Highness?’ Jodie said.

  ‘No, but whatever it is, it went wrong last night, and I reckon Arnault’s feeling the heat.’

  ‘Maybe they’re trying to make a weapon,’ Jodie said, ‘to defeat the Sanang.’

  ‘Then they’re going about it the wrong way.’

  ‘I was confused by some of the things you said to the Lord Vicar,’ Jodie said. ‘Do you know more about what’s happening than you’re letting on, your Highness?’

  ‘What kind of ambassador would I be if I didn’t?’

  Jodie gazed at her. ‘I thought I’d earned your trust. How do you expect me to help you if you won’t keep me informed?’

  ‘Because the truth is a lot worse than you think.’

  ‘Like what?’

  Shella paused for a moment. ‘Okay,’ she said, ‘for starters, the mages in the institute are being held chained up in cells with hoods over their heads.’

  Jodie said nothing, her mouth open.

  A warden spotted them, and a detachment broke away from the main group of One True Path and started walking towards them.

  ‘Come on,’ Shella said. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  They turned and made for the barricades, slipping between the overturned carts, where wardens let them through. On the other side the crowd had been dispersed and the street was littered with debris. There was no sign of the embassy guards or Jayki, but more wardens were positioned by the boarded-up shop-fronts. Each were dressed in thick black leathers, with helmets, shields and batons. They eyed Shella and Jodie with suspicion as they passed, but none made any move towards them.

  ‘Get off the road!’ one yelled. ‘This quarter’s under curfew.’

  ‘We’re walking home,’ Shella cried back, ‘unless you fancy giving us a lift?’

  The warden glared at her. ‘Get a move on.’

  Shella and Jodie put their heads down and picked up their pace. They passed through the deserted street and reached another barricade, which bordered the main boulevard leading to the palace. The wardens let them pass, and they emerged into the busy thoroughfare.

  ‘Your Highness!’ came a cry from among the masses of people.

  Shella turned and saw her guards from the embassy. She waved, and they pushed through the crowds towards her.

  ‘They wouldn’t let us wait for you, your Highness,’ said one.

  ‘Where’s Jayki?’

  ‘They told us he’d be dropped off at the embassy, your Highness, once a healer has attended to his wounds.’

  Shella nodded. ‘Let’s go back and wait for him there.’

  There was no Jayki when they got back to the embassy. Shella consulted Daly, and told him what she had seen while they waited. As evening fell, and there was still no sign of her guard, Shella went upstairs.

  Benel and Kalayne were in the old Kell’s room, teaching Thymo dice games. Shella got a glass of cold water and stood, watching them.

  ‘I hope neither of you are using your weird mind powers to cheat,’ she said.

  Kalayne stared at her.

  ‘Would I cheat?’ he smirked. ‘I have, however, just used my weird mind powers to look inside your head, to save you the effort of telling me about your day.’

  Benel shook his head. ‘You’re a very rude man,’ he said. ‘I don’t like you reading her mind without asking first.’

  Kalayne shrugged. ‘Why not? You’ve done it.’

  Shella frowned.

  ‘Wait!’ Benel cried. ‘No, no I wouldn’t…’ he stammered. ‘But how could you possibly know?’

  The old man grinned. ‘I didn’t until now.’

  ‘Is this true?’ Shella said.

  ‘Umm,’ Benel muttered, his eyes wide.

  ‘Come with me,’ she snarled, and strode off to her bedroom, the Holdings man following.

  She closed the door behind them.

  ‘How many times?’ she spat.

  He shrugged, looking at the carpet. ‘I don’t know. A few.’

  ‘Fucksake Benel. And I was just starting to trust you.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘That’s not going to cut it. Why did you do it? What were you looking for?’

  He stared at his shoes. ‘I just wanted to see if you liked me.’

  Shella tutted.

  ‘Sometimes I can’t help myself,’ he said. ‘It’s like an addiction. Having the power to see what others think. The temptation gets too much for me. Especially when we’re in bed.’

  She slapped him.

  ‘I’d kick you out if it didn’t mean they’d haul you back to the institute,’ she said. ‘I feel used.’

  ‘I never looked too deeply,’ he said. ‘I promise. I love you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I said…’

  ‘I heard what you said,’ she cried. ‘I’m just having a little difficulty believing it. We hardly know each other, Benel. It’s been fun, but you have to admit, you are quite annoying.’

  He looked hurt. ‘I fell in love with you the first time I looked into your mind. I know it was wrong, but I saw the real you, the one behind all the cynicism and bitterness, the one…’

  ‘Enough,’ she said. ‘You’re back on the couch. I can’t handle this right now. Get out.’

  Benel stood for a moment, his eyes down, then turned and left her bedroom.

  She sat on the bed, anger and disappointment warring within her. She lay back and stared at the ceiling.

  There was a knock at the door and Thymo peered into the room.

  ‘Auntie,’ he said. ‘Mister Daly wants to see you.’

  She rose and went through to the living room. Benel and Kalayne had both disappeared, while Thymo ran at her side. She opened the door.

  ‘Hi, Daly.’

  ‘Your Highness,’ he bowed. ‘Jayki has been returned to us.’

  She smiled. ‘Great. About time. I’ll be right…’

  She tailed off as Daly’s expression grew grim.

  ‘Is he okay?’

  ‘I’m afraid not, your Highness. The wardens who delivered him claim that he was struck by a severe blow to the skull, and though he lives, he may never wake up.’

  Shella let out a cry, and began running down the stairs.

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘We’ve put him in his room,’ said Daly, following.

  She stopped on the second-floor landing and raced for Jayki’s room. She burst through the door to see Jodie and a couple of embassy staff gathered by the bedside. Jayki was lying on his back, his head bandaged, and his eyes closed.

  Shella rushed up to him and put a hand on his brow. She glanced at his chest, and stared at it until she saw the slight rise and fall of his breathing.

  Tears came to her eyes and streamed down her face.

  ‘Take him upstairs,’ she said, fighting back the sobs. ‘I want to look after him myself.’

  Daly glanced at Jodie, who shrugged and nodded.

  ‘At once, your Highness,’ he said.

  Shella watched as embassy guards lifted Jayki off the bed and put him onto a stretcher. They carried him up the flights of stairs and into her quarters. Thymo got up from a chair and ran to her side.

  ‘Put him in my bed,’ she said.

  ‘Are you all right, y
our Highness?’ Jodie said, as Jayki was transferred onto Shella’s bed.

  She shook her head. ‘I need a moment.’

  Jodie nodded, and the staff left. Shella followed them to the door, closing and bolting it behind them.

  She turned, and sprinted to Kalayne’s room.

  ‘Come out, you old bastard,’ she cried. ‘I need you.’

  He poked his head through the door. ‘You called, my lady?’

  She ran to her own room. ‘Get in here.’

  Kalayne chuckled. ‘Demanding that I come into your bedroom? Is this going to be my lucky day, at long last?’

  ‘I will melt your brain if you don’t fucking get in here right now.’

  Kalayne entered her room and halted, his gaze on the bed.

  ‘Check his head,’ Shella said. ‘Now.’

  The old Kell approached, and stood over the prone body of Jayki. Benel appeared at the door to watch, but didn’t come in.

  ‘They said it was a blow to the skull,’ Shella said, ‘but I saw it, it wasn’t that bad. Have they been in his head?’

  Kalayne’s eyes bulged, and he looked up, his mouth a tight line.

  ‘Aye,’ he said, ‘they have.’

  Shella’s heart tensed, and she felt as if she couldn’t breathe.

  ‘Can you fix him?’

  Kalayne shook his head. ‘Nothing left to fix. They’ve scoured him clean.’

  Shella cried out, great sobs wracking her. She collapsed by the side of the bed, shuddering, her arms clutching Jayki’s motionless body. She felt a small hand on her shoulder.

  ‘He’ll never wake up,’ Kalayne went on. ‘He might as well be dead.’

  ‘Shut up,’ yelled Benel, ‘that’s her friend lying there. Show some kindness, you miserable bastard.’

  Shella looked up, her eyes red.

  ‘You must be careful,’ Kalayne said. ‘We have to assume that the church is now in possession of every memory that was in Jayki’s head, every conversation he ever had with you, and all that he has seen.’

  ‘Careful be fucked,’ Shella said. ‘I’ll kill the bastard who did this.’

  Chapter 26

  Dawn Rising

  Rahain Capital, Rahain Republic – 17th Day, First Third Winter 506

  With practised ease, Daphne bent her vision over the mountains to Slateford. She reached the town as dawn was brightening the valley, and followed the river until she saw the mansion. She entered through the bedroom window.

  Killop was getting dressed by the bed, and she hesitated for a moment, watching him.

  Morning, Killop, she said, going into his mind.

  He smiled as she created an apparition of her form before his eyes.

  ‘Good morning.’

  ‘Kara-bear up already?’

  ‘Aye,’ he nodded. ‘I’ll go get her.’

  ‘In a minute,’ she said. ‘How are things?’

  ‘The truce with the Old Free is still holding,’ he said, sitting on the bed. ‘Took Dean up to the quarry yesterday for fire practice. He’s coming along. How are you? Any change?’

  She shook her head.

  He frowned.

  ‘Something’s going to happen soon,’ she said. ‘Something’s building up. Hundreds more New Free have been out on the streets protesting. The caverns are packed with soldiers, but they’d be out-numbered ten to one if all the ex-slaves came out. It’ll only take one spark.’

  ‘I miss you.’

  ‘Me too,’ she said. ‘At least we can talk now.’

  He gazed up at her. ‘I can’t wait to do more than just talk.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ she said. ‘Tell me what you’d like to do.’

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘first I’d…’

  The door opened and Karalyn ran in, wearing a bib covered in cornmeal.

  ‘Mama!’ she cried.

  The apparition of Daphne knelt. ‘Hiya, Kara-bear.’

  Bridget came in. She glanced at Killop and Karalyn, her eyes narrowing.

  ‘Would I be right in saying that you’re talking to Daphne?’

  ‘Aye,’ Killop said.

  Bridget waved into empty space. ‘Hi Daphne. This kind of freaks me out, so I’ll leave you all to it.’

  She left the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

  ‘It would be great,’ Killop said, ‘if you could make Bridget see you as well.’

  ‘I’d have to be inside her head to make her see me, just like I’m in yours.’

  ‘But Karalyn can see you.’

  Daphne shrugged. ‘I don’t know how she does it. Maybe she’s so connected to you, she sees what you see.’

  ‘Not all the time, I hope.’

  Daphne heard a noise.

  ‘Someone’s coming,’ she said. ‘I’ll come by tomorrow. Bye Killop, bye Kara-bear, love you both.’

  She snapped her vision back to her body and opened her eyes.

  The streetlights in the cavern had been turned up for morning, one of the few public amenities that still worked in the centre of the capital. Her head ached, and she felt sick, but the long hours of practice had toughened her. She gazed down the tiled slope of the roof. The hatch was open, and a man was crawling up. He was making for the sheltered platform at the apex, where Daphne liked to sit to perform her range-visions to Slateford.

  ‘I’d thought I’d find you up here,’ Joley said, climbing onto the platform and crouching next to her. He looked out over the cavern, his gaze lingering on the huge bulk of the Senate complex in the distance.

  ‘Nice view,’ he said. ‘I might have to come up here more often.’

  He opened a pack of cigarettes and passed her one.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Nothing, just came for a chat.’

  She frowned.

  ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Were you using your powers? Did I interrupt?’

  ‘It’s fine.’

  ‘Do you want me to leave?’

  ‘No, you’re here now.’

  They sat in awkward silence for a moment.

  ‘Joley,’ she said, ‘why are you really up here?’

  The embassy secretary sighed. ‘Occasionally, I feel the need to remove myself from the company of Father Ghorley, in case I say or do something I might later regret.’

  ‘Are you wishing you’d retired when the others did?’

  ‘I’d be going mad, sitting on the old estate with nothing to do. I’m too old to learn a new trade; this is all I’ve known. But I’m used to how it was under the queen, before all this empire nonsense took hold, and before the creator-faith became something I had to pretend to take seriously.’

  ‘The empire’s not going to last,’ she said. ‘They’ve as good as lost Sanang, and Rakana only obeys because they have to. Things might go back to how they were before.’

  He snorted. ‘You don’t actually believe that, do you?’

  ‘I’d like to think there’s something worth fighting for,’ she said. ‘To be honest though, I’d rather go home.’

  ‘You mean Slateford?’

  ‘Where else?’

  He shook his head at her. ‘Slateford’s finished, no matter which side, Old Free or New, wins this war. If the Old Free keep control of the government, they’ll never let a colony of Kellach survive just eighty miles from the capital, and if the New Free rise up and take over, they’ll demand that Slateford convert to the creator-faith, or leave. Or die, depending on how fanatical they’re feeling.’

  ‘Not if we can get Laodoc back into power.’

  He laughed. ‘Have you not been listening to Ghorley? There’s no way the church will allow Laodoc back in charge if the Old Free are overthrown. Direct rule, that’s what they’re intending, with Father Ghorley as imperial governor. The church will run Rahain, and unless Killop and his people convert, they’ll be driven out.’

  Daphne stubbed out her cigarette and Joley offered her another one.

  ‘I hate both sides in this stupid war,’ she said. ‘Honestly, Joley, wh
y do we bother?’

  ‘I swore an oath,’ he said. ‘You, on the other hand…’

  He paused, as the low roar of a crowd began to reach them. Daphne turned to look over the edge of the platform, and down into the streets below. Since the coup, every road leading to the mission had been blocked with barricades guarded by Old Free army units. Each day at dawn, growing crowds of New Free gathered along the major roads, getting closer to the barricades as their boldness increased. On the first morning, a few dozen protesters had marched towards a barricade praying, singing and chanting. The soldiers had shot them down with crossbows bolts when they had strayed too close.

  The next day, hundreds of ex-slaves had turned out, staying out of bow-range, but chanting and holding up pictures of those slain the previous day, the martyrs of the New Free. Each following day, the numbers of ex-slaves had increased, and more soldiers had been drafted in to seal off the Church Mission.

  Joley nudged her with his elbow.

  ‘Look,’ he said. ‘That’s new.’

  Daphne squinted at the approaching crowds in the distance. She took a stick of keenweed from her pocket and lit it.

  Joley raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Don’t you start,’ she said.

  She took a draw and pulled on her battle-vision, her enhanced senses focussed on the streets below. There were three roads leading off from that side of the mansion, each with a barricade. She saw the backs of the Old Free soldiers, crouching with their crossbows and swords behind lines of overturned carts. A hundred yards ahead of each barricade were the usual crowds, singing and chanting.

  Daphne frowned. The front rows of protesters were holding up a wall of shields, made from tables, doors, and nailed-together floorboards. Behind, she saw the glint of weapons.

  She glanced at Joley.

  ‘This could get interesting,’ he said.

  A whistle sounded as the soldiers realised the protesters were armed. Reinforcements arrived at the rear of the barricades, and began loading their crossbows.

  The protesters on the largest of the three streets cried out in a united roar of defiance, and charged the barricade. Hearing the noise, the crowds started closing in from all directions, a surging river of Rahain. Only the first few rows were armed, Daphne noticed. Other than a handful of swords, the rest held axes, knives or hammers.