Bookworm

by Christopher Nuttall

  A young woman, her features blunt and plain, looked up at them as they entered. She wore a white set of robes, which surprised Elaine until she realised that the Inquisitors probably intended for her to serve as a druid as well as a secretary. Only druids wore white robes, unlike the black favoured by the Inquisition – and almost every other sorcerer of great power.

  “Welcome home,” she said, to Dread. She barely even glanced in Elaine’s direction. “The Circle received your message yesterday and they are waiting to speak with you.”

  Elaine blinked in surprise. When had Dread sent a message? But it was a silly question. Dread was a powerful sorcerer with access to spells used only by the Inquisitors. He could have sent them a message without allowing Elaine to see it at all.

  “Wait here,” Dread said. “You’ll be called in to face the Circle once I have finished briefing them. I shouldn’t be anything more than ten minutes.”

  Elaine watched him passing through another pair of stone doors and then settled down to wait. The secretary ignored her, at least on the surface, although the feeling of being watched by unknown eyes seemed to grow stronger by the minute. She could almost feel the spells crawling throughout the building, watching for intruders; there were so many spells that it was hard to see why they weren’t interfering with one another. But the Inquisitors would be able to recruit the best talent from the Peerless School; they’d probably selected the students with the greatest aptitude for charms and programming wards and offered them advanced training in exchange for servitude. No one really knew how a person became an Inquisitor, but with their connections to the Peerless School they could probably identify promising talent early.

  It was more like forty minutes until the door opened of its own accord and Elaine felt a compulsion pushing at her, urging her to walk through the door. The sensation was thoroughly unpleasant as she found herself moving almost against her will. Shivers ran down her spine as she walked into the heart of the Inquisition, the legendary Star Chamber itself. It was illuminated by a glowing silver star hanging over the table, casting an eerie flickering light over the room. The five people in the room – the Circle, Elaine assumed – wore black robes, but nothing else. None of them were familiar, apart from a middle-aged woman Elaine was sure she’d seen somewhere before. They didn’t seem to wear the skull rings that marked them out as Inquisitors.

  And there was no sign of Dread...

  “Please be seated,” one of the men said. He was approaching old age, with wrinkled skin and a horrifically scarred face that bore mute testament to a magical duel against a dark sorcerer in his youth. Elaine was surprised that she didn’t know him, even by reputation. Someone who had been so badly scarred should be instantly recognisable. Maybe it was just an illusion shadowing his real face. There would be little hope of a normal life if his friends knew him to be an Inquisitor. “Thank you for coming.”

  Elaine nodded, slowly. Dread hadn’t given her the impression that she had had much of a choice. “We understand that this must be an unpleasant experience for you,” the man continued. One of the other men, a dark-skinned man with bright red eyes, snorted. His eyes had to be an illusion, Elaine told herself. Someone like that should have been even more recognisable than the scarred man. “Please would you tell us, in your own words, exactly what happened to you since you opened Duke Gama’s legacy?”

  She felt the compulsion pushing at her the moment he phased the question and started to babble. The Inquisitors merely listened, without bothering to comment on her description of her dinner with Bee or her discovery that Daria was a full-blooded werewolf. They’d told her to tell them everything, after all. No one interrupted as she explained how she’d decided to go to Ida, how she’d encountered Dread and finally been kidnapped, only to be saved by the Inquisitor and the Princess of Ida. Princess Sacharissa had been left with one of Dread’s friends, for the moment. She had had no idea what – if anything – he intended to do with her.

  Once she’d finished explaining her story, they started to ask questions. Each of them was asked pleasantly enough, but there was enough compulsion floating through the air to make a mockery of free will. She found herself answering the same question, asked in several different ways, over and over again. How could they expect her to lie to them when the entire chamber was crawling with charms to make her talkative, and truthful. It took her some time to realise that they were trying to extract all the detail they could, not trying to catch her out in a lie. A handful of questions even related to the contents of the Black Vault, considering what knowledge might be stored inside the Great Library – and now Elaine’s head. She felt her blood run cold as she realised the implications. Countless spells in her head were useless to her, but a more powerful magician would be able to use them as he pleased. It wasn’t just Prince Hilarion who would want to get his hands on her.

  “One final question,” the old man said. “Why did you not bring yourself to us when you discovered what had happened?”

  At least they seemed to accept that she hadn’t lied to Dread when they’d first met. “I was scared,” Elaine admitted. “I thought that you would kill me.”

  “We should,” one of the other Inquisitors said. His face was so bland that Elaine wouldn’t have given it a second thought if they’d met on the streets. It was a definite advantage for an Inquisitor to remain unnoticed. “We cannot remove spells from your mind, nor can we prevent you from remaining silent in the face of mental probes and torture.”

  “Trying would break your mind,” the fourth male Inquisitor said. Unlike his companion, he was handsome, too handsome to be real. Either he was using a glamour to hide his real appearance or he’d had his features redesigned into something that was obviously unnatural. In its own way, it could be as much a disguise as the bland man. “It would be kinder to kill you outright.”

  “But we are sworn to protect the innocent,” the woman said. “You did not choose to become a bookworm. We should not kill you for something that wasn’t your fault.”

  “And yet you did try to summon a ghost back to the mortal world,” the bland man said. “It is clear that the knowledge in your head has had an effect on your personality. We cannot afford to trust you in public society.”

  “Even if we did,” the handsome man added, “you would become a prize for each and every sorcerer who wishes to boost his power. You are not bound by the oaths sworn by the Grand Sorcerer on the day he takes on the duties of his post.”

  “It has been suggested that we destroy the Black Vault and its knowledge,” the woman said. Elaine was starting to suspect that they were communicating between one another without her hearing them. “And yet the knowledge might be needed one day.”

  “By whom?” The bland man demanded. “Would you trust yourself with that power?”

  Elaine hesitated, and then spoke up. “You already have all the power you could possibly need.”

  The elderly man chuckled, not unkindly. “There is no such thing as too much power for a sorcerer,” he said. At his age, he had to be as powerful as anyone else in the Golden City. “The problems arise when one of them seeks to become far more powerful unnaturally, trying to boost his power because he is in a hurry. Even we are not immune to temptation.”

  “That’s why we should kill you,” the bland man said. “You are simply too dangerous to be left running around, even if all the compulsions in your head have been removed.”

  “And there’s no way we can be sure,” the woman said. “Anyone who peeks inside your head will be able to drain the knowledge crammed into your skull.”

  Elaine stared at her, desperately. Had she come home merely to die at the hands of the Inquisition?

  “But there is another problem,” the elderly man said. “You and our friend Dread have raised a very serious concern. Prince Hilarion may have long-term plans that threaten the Empire.”

  “More than threaten, if they gained access to the Black Vault’s knowledge,” the woman pointed out. “They
could bring us down.”

  “We cannot act openly,” the elderly man admitted. “You and Dread – and your allies – may act without our blessing. We will decide your fate later.”

  Elaine nodded. At least they’d be able to do something about Prince Hilarion before she faced them again. And if they failed...

  She shook her head. If they failed, chances were that she wouldn’t be alive to worry about it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Dread met her outside the Star Chamber.

  “They wanted to kill me,” Elaine said. Part of her didn’t want to believe it. “I...they wanted to kill me!”

  “They are charged with defending the establishment,” Dread mused, as he drew her into a private room. It might have been his office. “And you are a threat to the establishment.”

  “I didn’t ask to be a threat to the establishment,” Elaine snapped. All the stress of the past week was finally breaking through. She started to shake, feeling hot tears prickling at the corner of her mind. “I didn’t ask to become a bookworm!”

  “A plague doesn’t ask to kill and cripple thousands of innocent humans,” Dread said, softly, but with great force. “A tidal wave doesn’t act out of malice. Tornadoes don’t throw houses through magical dimensions because they think it would be a huge joke. Wild magic doesn’t warp the very structure of reality for fun and games.”

  He placed one hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry about what happened to you,” he said, gently. “It represents a failing on our part, one of imagination. No one ever expected someone to manage to slip all of the books in the Great Library out past the wards, but that is precisely what happened and we have to deal with it. You should never have been caught up in this, yet no magic known to us can go back in time and change it. It isn’t fair; you did nothing to deserve it. But that doesn’t change the fact that we have to deal with the situation as we find it.”

  Elaine sagged against his arm. “But...what now? Even if we stop Prince Hilarion and his plan, whatever it is, what happens to me afterwards? I didn’t ask to become a source of all the forbidden knowledge in the universe...”

  “Repository, I think you mean,” Dread said. Elaine thought he was laughing at her until she realised that he was deadly serious. “Or are you actually going to start inventing new spells based on what you know?”

  “I...I don’t know,” Elaine admitted. Now that the truth was out...she could drain the Blight, or tap its magic for her own use. But that would probably start a panic once the Inquisition realised the truth. Knowledge was useless without power; the Blight had enough power to reshape the entire world, if it were used properly. “Why me?”

  “The world isn’t fair,” Dread said. “You were in the wrong place at the wrong time and were caught up in the middle of a power struggle that has raged since the Second Necromantic War. Now, I suggest” – it was unmistakably an order – “that you dry your eyes and start thinking about what we’re going to do next.”

  “I have to go talk to Daria,” Elaine said. If nothing else, she owed her friend a hug...and a confession. And if Daria turned into a wolf and tried to eat her? Maybe it was exactly what she deserved. “Prince Hilarion can wait for a day.”

  She paused as a thought struck her. “Is he even still in the city?”

  “He’s still here,” Dread confirmed. “I’m surprised he hasn’t fled, but he has to know that time isn’t exactly on his side. It’s possible that he thinks he can still become Grand Sorcerer and simply order us to forget the matter.”

  “Or he has something really nasty up his sleeve for when we push the issue,” Elaine said, darkly. “What did they plan to do about Ida?”

  Dread frowned. “They’re going to take it to the Regency Council and try to convince them to order troops moved towards Ida,” he said. “It really needs a Grand Sorcerer’s imprint before we move, but we should be able to get some spies into the mountains and prepare for an invasion without his permission. But doing that will be risky – and costly, if it does come down to a fight. Ida has never fallen to an outside force.”

  “But surely you can assemble more magicians,” Elaine protested. “You could call upon every graduate from the Peerless School if necessary.”

  “Not all of them are combat magicians,” Dread said. “And someone on the other side has been teaching magic to the Prince. How many others do you think he might have turned out over the years?”

  “But surely he couldn’t outnumber the Peerless School...”

  “The trick would be concentrating our forces in one area,” Dread admitted. “Even with the authority of the Grand Sorcerer, it would take weeks – perhaps months – to gather every combat magician we have...and they probably wouldn’t give us the time. Prince Hilarion might already have plans to ally with other kingdoms against us; we could find ourselves having to put down several separate rebellions at the same time, with our resources desperately overstretched.”

  He snorted. “We will make what preparations we can, but Prince Hilarion has timed his little plan perfectly,” he added. “No doubt he already has contingency plans...”

  Elaine blinked in surprise as an idea occurred to her. “Why don’t we assassinate his father?”

  “You’ve definitely become bloodthirsty,” Dread observed. “I have considered the possibility, but right now the King of Ida is safe and sound inside a castle that it would be impossible to break into quietly...”

  “But we managed to escape through the secret passages...”

  “All of which will be blocked up by now, or heavily guarded,” Dread said, overriding her. “And I’d bet a thousand Crowns that the Princess’s signature has been removed from all of the access points.”

  “I won’t take that bet,” Elaine said. She shook her head. “So...do we try to burgle Prince Hilarion’s current residence or not?”

  “It’s the only plan we have,” Dread said, reluctantly. “I need to start making some preparations. You have been assigned quarters here...”

  “I have to go to Daria,” Elaine said, flatly. Two weeks ago, she would never even have dreamed of arguing with an Inquisitor. The prospect of impending death really did concentrate the mind. “You can send someone along to look after me, if you like, but I am going to see her. And I am going to have another date with Bee.”

  Dread studied her for a long moment. “I can see that your father must have been stubborn,” he said. She’d told him what the ghost had said when she’d summoned Trebuchet back to the land of the living. Dread had been rather more worried by the force that had driven Trebuchet back to the next world. It implied that someone had access to a great deal of magic – or direct assistance from the next world. “But you do realise that they have to be watching for you? Going on a date – or even back to your apartment – might be just what they want you to do.”

  “I know,” Elaine admitted, “but I am not going to cower inside until the new Grand Sorcerer is selected. And if the Star Chamber decides that I am too dangerous to let live, I can at least enjoy life a little before I die.” She looked up at him, and then down at her feet. “I have never really lived at all. First there was the orphanage and a staff who refused to let me do anything, then there was the Peerless School and Millicent...and then there was a boring life in the Library. I want to live!”

  “You’ve definitely changed,” Dread observed. He smiled, as if the issue wasn’t really worth fighting over. “You can go, on the condition that you have at least two of us with you. They won’t look like Inquisitors, but they will look after you.”

  Elaine looked into his grey eyes, saw that he wouldn’t budge any further, and nodded. “I will,” she said, softly. Was this was it was like to have a father? Someone who cared and worked to protect his daughter? Or was she merely dreaming it was, because her own father had always been a mystery to her. If her mother had been a whore, what had her father been? Her client, her pimp...or something else altogether? “Thank you.”

  Dread looked mildl
y surprised. “For what?”

  “For caring,” Elaine said. She felt tears stinging her eyes again and wiped them away with a flash of irritation. “No real father could have done better.”

  Dread smiled, a smile that touched his eyes and made him look almost human. “Would you like to know,” he enquired dryly, “just how many fathers have used magic on the boys who came courting their daughters? I have seen fathers turn boyfriends into toads, or use compulsion spells to drive them away, or insist that they swear formal oaths before even inviting the girls out to dinner. And I have seen parents who use magic to substitute for raising their kids. Instead of teaching boys and girls to be careful, they use magic to enforce proper behaviour from their children. Every time, it explodes in their faces – badly. But no one ever seems to learn.”

  He shook his head. “Magic isn’t a substitute for everything and it certainly doesn’t solve all problems,” he added. “If everyone realised that, instead of looking for quick fixes, the world would be a much happier place.”

  ***

  Every Inquisitor that Elaine had heard of – she’d only met one formally – wore black robes and carried skull rings. But it seemed that a great deal of what she’d known about the Inquisition either wasn’t true, or was incomplete. Inquisitor Cass was a blonde and bubbly girl wearing a long green dress that set off her hair nicely; Inquisitor Karan was short, dumpy and had unkempt red hair that Daria would have enjoyed fixing over an hour or two. But there was no mistaking the skill they showed in working magic, or the sheer power flaring around them when they entered the room. Millicent would not have dared to pick on either of them.