The Flaw in All Magic (Magebreakers Book 1)

by Ben S. Dobson

  Tane stepped around them to block the way.

  “This way, you ugly wisp of mist.” He didn’t think the weak insult would do much to draw its attention, but saying it made him feel a little bit more confident.

  The wraith turned lightning-blue eyes toward him, and reached out a hand. Tane leapt back, but not far enough to lose its attention. And just as he’d hoped, it followed, closing the space with increasing speed now that it had chosen its prey. With Nieris gone, Tane’s was the strongest Astral signature in the room—unconscious, Lady Abena’s would be relatively dormant.

  Kadka hadn’t gone for the wheel yet. Instead, she lowered Lady Abena to the floor and took a step toward Tane. “Carver, what—”

  He waved her off, backing rapidly away from the wraith as it closed on him. “Just take the wheel! It doesn’t want you, and we have to get it away from the instruments. Trust me, Kadka. I’m doing something clever.” I hope. The door to the lower decks was just behind him now, and he stepped backward over the threshold. “Come on, fog-face. Follow me!”

  It did, blurring toward him with unnerving speed.

  Tane turned and ran.

  _____

  Kadka tied off the ropes, lashing Lady Abena’s unconscious body to the wall beside Chancellor Nieris—she’d dragged him in from the deck, in case they still needed him. He was conscious, but he didn’t resist, just stared blankly and went where he was led. There were cords and fastenings all around the bridge; whatever they were supposed to be used for, they worked well enough for this. She couldn’t look after the Lady Protector and do what she had to do at the same time. It was safer this way.

  She strode to the wheel, took it in both hands, turned it just a bit to the right. There was resistance, but it moved slightly. A moment later, the airship began to turn. Kadka grinned. She didn’t know if she’d get out of this alive, didn’t know what Carver was doing, or even if he knew what he was doing. But for a moment, she didn’t care.

  She was flying.

  The lights of the city spun slowly, far below, as she maneuvered the ship’s nose toward the Audish Channel. There it was, coming into view through the right window pane, a dark expanse against a coast speckled with light.

  They were still too high. If the ship fell from this height, it wouldn’t matter if they were over water or earth. Kadka glanced at the instrument panel; there were two large wood-handled levers, one on either side of the wheel. Each was currently set at a different angle, with space to move forward or back. She had no idea what either of them did, but if one didn’t control descent, this airship had been built very stupidly.

  Guessing at random, she grabbed the one on the right, and pushed.

  The ship lunged ahead at speed. Kadka gripped the wheel to keep from stumbling back under the sudden acceleration, and her weight pushed it further right. Suddenly the airship was turning too hard and too fast.

  “Deshka!” She pulled the lever back down, and the ship began to slow. Grabbing the wheel in both hands once more, she levelled out the turn as gently as she could.

  It had to be the other one, then. She took the left-hand lever and pushed it forward, slow and gradual. At first, it seemed as if nothing had happened, but after a moment, the coastline started to rise over the nose of the ship. With a satisfied nod, Kadka steered in the direction of the bay.

  A deafening screech from overhead, and the airship dropped again.

  Kadka's feet lifted off the floor; she gripped the wheel tight to keep from being slammed against the ceiling. Against the wall, the ropes held Lady Abena and Nieris in place. The abrupt descent only jostled them slightly.

  Once more, something arrested the fall—the lift spells, Carver had said—and Kadka slammed back to the deck, barely keeping her legs under her.

  They’d dropped further this time. And they were still high enough that if the spells on the ship couldn’t stop the next fall, everyone on board would be thoroughly crushed on impact.

  It was up to Carver now. Whatever plan he had, she hoped it worked, because she didn’t think they had long left.

  _____

  Tane sprinted down the stairs from the bridge, and then along the hall toward the rear of the ship. He didn’t know the layout, but it wasn’t hard to guess the direction he needed to go. The floor trembled and moved underfoot, but he didn’t have time for vertigo. Steel hatches flashed by on either side; he ignored them. Walls and doors wouldn’t stop the wraith. His shadow on the walls shifted as lights flickered and died behind.

  It was getting closer.

  Pressure filled his ears, and then a voice. Ree. “Tane! You’re alive! I couldn’t reach you!”

  “Nieris had a mask up. But I have bigger problems now.”

  Ahead, at the far end of the hall, he saw what he’d been hoping to see: a hatch, similar to the others, but made of brass. That had to be it. He glanced over his shoulder—the wraith was no more than a few yards behind him, a silver-blue phantom with arms outstretched. Lightning-blue eyes fixed on Tane, unblinking.

  He put his head down and ran with everything he had.

  “Tane, what are you—”

  All at once, the floor leapt under his feet. The ship accelerated, turning hard to the right, and he was thrown against the wall. “Spellfire! Keep it steady, Kadka!”

  He didn’t realize he’d sent the words to Indree, but she answered. “Is she steering the ship? It’s turning back toward the coast.”

  He didn’t have time to send back. The wraith closed the distance as Tane tried to get his balance again. A ghostly hand reached for his chest. He threw himself back, and silver-blue fingers passed through the air inches short of contact. Tane grabbed the railing and launched himself forward once more into a stumbling run.

  He reached the hatch, gripped the wheel, pulled it hard. It turned, but too slowly. Again, he looked back—the wraith was nearly on him. He wasn’t going to make it.

  The wraith reached out. There was nowhere left to run.

  The ship lurched downward into sudden freefall.

  Tane held the hatch wheel as his body lifted into the air. The wraith, unanchored, rose sharply through the ceiling to the upper level.

  It lasted longer than the first time, but just as Tane was certain he was plummeting to his death, the lift spells re-engaged and caught the ship. His weight returned, pulling him back to the deck.

  The wraith was still somewhere above, but it could pass through the deck like air. It would be coming back. Tane wrenched hard at the brass wheel.

  “Tane?”

  “Indree, I don’t know if I’m going to get out of this alive.” The wheel moved easier the further it turned. He spun it until he felt the latch give way, and pulled the door open. The room beyond was fully lined with brass, insulated against outside magic. “If I don’t see you again… I’m sorry. For everything.”

  A ghostly silver-blue figure descended through the ceiling above, just a few feet behind him.

  “Tane, I don’t—”

  Tane stepped through the door, and the pressure in his ears died, blocked by brass. Indree was gone.

  But he’d made it. The engine room. Against the back wall, a glass-fronted hatch held an array of a half-dozen fist-sized diamonds. The first two were already entirely lost to milky white, cracked and lustreless, and the next two were heavily clouded over from the unchecked drain of the heating glyphs. The last pair, though, was still clear enough that Tane could see the brass of the wall behind them. All were grasped in claws of conductive copper, and all along the walls, brass tubes—no doubt lined on the inside with copper as well—ran from the sides of the power array to the left and right sides of the room. On both sides, large panels allowed access to the inner workings of the ancryst engines.

  There was no way out. If this didn’t work, he’d trapped himself with the wraith at a dead end.

  Tane ignored the engines, and lunged for the hatch at the back wall. With both hands, he yanked it open. Even without looking, he could feel the
wraith behind him, reaching. He ducked, threw himself to the right, scrambled away. Braced himself for that cold spectral touch.

  It didn’t come.

  He turned to see the wraith’s hands thrust into the power array.

  Yes! The only source of Astral energy on the ship that had a chance of distracting a wraith from living prey was the gem array that powered the spells keeping them in the air. Tane hadn’t been sure they’d have enough charge left, but it had worked.

  He leapt through the door, slammed it shut behind him, turned the wheel hard. The latch clicked into place.

  The wraith was trapped, sealed in brass.

  Trapped with the ship’s power source. Which didn’t give them much time.

  Tane sprinted back down the hall, up the stairs, through the door to the bridge. It was dark inside—the last of the magelights had given out.

  “Kadka!” She was at the wheel, a silhouette against the starlit sky. He closed the distance to her side. “How long before we can land? We don’t have much time.” Against the left wall, he noticed Lady Abena and Nieris lashed tight beside one another. Good—he didn’t much care about the chancellor, but the sudden drop before might well have dashed the Lady Protector against the roof.

  Kadka glanced at him as he drew alongside her. “Don’t know. Hard to tell, like this.” She gestured at the windows. The lightless expanse of the bay was beneath them now, just like Indree had said, but it was difficult to judge their height in the dark. “What did you do? Where is wraith?”

  “Locked in the engine room, siphoning the ship’s gems. Which should drain the flow to the heating glyphs before the envelope bursts. Whatever air is left, it will help to slow our fall when the lift spells end. But it’s not going to keep us aloft. If we’re too high when the power runs out…”

  He met her eyes, and saw that he didn’t have to finish. She nodded her understanding, and smiled slightly, without showing her teeth.

  “Is good we meet each other, Tane Carver. Has been… exciting.” She offered him her hand.

  Tane took it. He didn’t know what else to say—or maybe there was nothing left to say. Hand in hand and side by side, they waited silently as the ship descended over dark waters.

  It wasn't long before the lift spells failed.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  _____

  THERE WAS NOTHING else for Tane to grab, so he grabbed Kadka, throwing his arms around her. She gripped him tight with one hand, holding the wheel with the other as they rose into the air together.

  Nothing stopped them, this time. The power was spent. For what felt like forever, they plummeted toward a black sea.

  And then, with a great splash, the airship hit water.

  Through the window, the dark of the bay surged outward in a massive wave, just visible in the reflected moonlight. He and Kadka hit the floor with jarring force, still clinging to one another. Kadka landed atop him, crushing the breath from his lungs.

  But they weren’t dead.

  Thank the Astra! Whether they’d been nearer to the water than he’d thought or sufficiently slowed by what was left of the envelope, he didn’t know, and it didn’t matter now. All that mattered was that he was still alive.

  Alive enough to feel the full weight of Kadka’s knee digging into his ribs.

  “Get off,” he wheezed. “Can’t breathe.”

  She rolled off of him on to her back, laughing. “That was… not so bad.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Tane groaned, clutching his side.

  Across the room, Lady Abena stirred against the ropes holding her. “What… what happened? Nieris!” She glanced to her side, saw the chancellor lashed beside her, and tried to recoil. Nieris only stared at her, his mouth gaping open. A string of drool fell from his lower lip.

  “He’s harmless, Your Ladyship,” Tane said. “Kadka, let her free.” Painfully, he started to rise as Kadka bounded up and drew her knife. She’d freed Lady Abena before Tane had gotten himself to his feet.

  Lady Abena let Kadka help her up and leaned against her, blinking in confusion. “You… how did you do this, Mister Carver? Last I remember, you were in no position to stop Talain.”

  He glanced at Kadka, and smiled. “I didn’t do it alone. But it’s a long story.” A light drew his attention. More than one, actually, visible through the bridge windows. Boats, moving over the water. “And it looks like help is coming. We wouldn’t be very good hosts if we didn’t greet them at the door.”

  The three of them made their way down to the side hatch Tane had entered by, and he threw it open. The boats were only a few yards out now. There were two of them, cutters powered by ancryst engines, both dwarfed by the airship. In the silver-blue of their magelights he could see the constabulary’s golden shield on their prows, marking them as coastal patrol vessels.

  “Tane?” Indree’s voice.

  “I’m here,” he said. “We’re alive.”

  The first boat raised a ramp to the hatch, and three human Mageblades were the first ones off the deck. One took Lady Abena from Kadka while the others fell in protectively on either side. Tane moved to follow as they took her back down the ramp, but one of them raised a hand to stop him.

  “The next boat is yours. The Lady Protector’s security can’t be compromised.”

  Tane didn’t argue, although it was tempting. Where was that security a half-hour ago?

  From the deck, Lady Abena turned back one last time. “Thank you, Mister Carver, Miss Kadka. I will not forget this.” And then her Mageblades led her into the cabin, and out of sight.

  The next boat had barely raised its ramp before a figure was marching toward them, flanked by several bluecaps in full uniform.

  “Not the most elegant landing,” said Indree. Up close, he could see that her evening dress was soaking wet. The wave they’d raised when they hit water must have thrown up a powerful spray.

  “Sorry,” Kadka said, grinning. “But is not bad for my first time, I think.”

  “No,” said Indree. “Not bad at all.” She turned to Tane, then, and before he knew what was happening, she was throwing her arms around him. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

  Instinctively, Tane folded his hands around her waist. “I’m glad you’re glad,” he said. “I… thought you’d be angrier.”

  She drew back, but didn’t let go. “Oh, I’m extremely angry.” She smiled to take the bite from the words, but he could see the annoyance behind her eyes. “You nearly got yourself shot, and it wasn’t exactly easy to explain why I stopped the Mageblades from killing a man chasing after the Lady Protector with a stolen pistol. But you did it. Somehow. So this time, I’m going to skip the scolding.”

  Kadka leaned close to Tane’s ear, and far too loudly, she whispered, “Now you kiss.”

  He should have been embarrassed, but it was just too absurd, after everything. Instead, he quirked an eyebrow at Indree. “I do hate to disappoint an audience…”

  Indree hesitated, just an instant, and then shook her head and pushed him away. “In your dreams. I have work to do. Where’s Nieris?”

  Tane pointed back through the hatch. “Tied up on the bridge. He won’t give you any trouble. He’s been Astra-riven.”

  “What?” Indree frowned. “How did a wraith get on board?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” Tane said. “When you’re done working. It’s trapped in the engine room. You’ll need to have someone banish it.”

  Indree took a pair of bluecaps in with her, and directed one—a gnomish man she introduced as Constable Tobtock—to bring Tane and Kadka aboard the smaller boat. He led them down the ramp and into the ship’s cabin. There wasn’t much to it, just a small enclosed space with a bench along one side and a small cot bolted to the floor.

  “Sit where you like,” Tobtock said. “It will take some time to properly secure the airship. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Whiskey,” Kadka said quickly, before Tane could answer.

  Tobtock smiled. “I p
robably shouldn’t, but after the night you’ve had… I might be able to find something. Wait here.” He stepped out of the cabin and left them alone.

  Tane sat down on the edge of the cot. Kadka lowered herself onto the bench and leaned against the wall. For a long time, they were both quiet, and then their eyes met across the room. That sharp-toothed grin spread across Kadka’s face, and Tane couldn’t help but match it.

  And then they were both laughing, letting the tension spill out of them in the only way that seemed to make sense just then. Just like in the workshop, the day they’d met.

  It was a long time before they stopped.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  _____

  “NO ONE WORKED harder on the airship project than Allaea did. I always admired that about her, even while I was trying to get her to rest for a night or two.”

  Indree stood behind a podium atop a dais erected on the grass at the campus center, before an audience of hundreds of students and citizens. She wore her full constable’s uniform, with her cap held at her side. Her voice—magically projected to reach the furthest corners of the crowd—rang in Tane’s ears as if he was standing right beside her, though he was actually sitting beside Kadka several rows back.

  “She loved her work. She loved the University. But she was just as dedicated to her friends. Since we were children, she would drop everything to help me when I really needed her. She could be blunt, and sometimes it hurt to hear, but her advice always went straight to the heart of the problem. I wouldn’t be who I am today without her.” Indree stopped, there, and wiped a hand across her cheek. Tane couldn’t see the tears, but he knew they were there.

  “But even though she’s gone, she’ll be remembered. By the friends whose lives she touched, and by her family”—there, she gestured at Allaea’s parents, an elven couple sitting on the dais behind her—“and by everyone who looks up to see an airship passing by overhead. Soon that will be a common sight, all across Audland and the Continent. She would say that she was only responsible for a small part of it, that there were hundreds of others who worked on the project. And as usual, she would be right. But even if it’s only in part, our nation owes its mark on the sky to her.