The Magic, Broken: Book Two of The Magic Warper Trilogy

by Rick Field

  “Of course it isn't magic,” Liane said, looking up from the weapon to the prisoner. “From the look of it, it is a miniature cannon, triggered by pulling back this lever. Crude, loud, but nonetheless effective. It is still a weapon, and you still discharged it. You claim your arrival was by accident. How shall we go about proving this?”

  “Listen lady,” he grunted, frustration coloring his voice again, “My plane crashed. I haven't had a decent meal or a chance to shower in the last four days, and you're the first one I've come across who speaks English. I haven't had a chance to prove anything.”

  “Regretfully, I do not speak English,” Liane said. “I merely allowed you to speak Kirian, which is why the two men behind me have been understanding you for the last five minutes. Unfortunately, I cannot release you without knowing that you pose no threat to Kiria, and are not part of a large invasion force. The Great Barrier is supposed to keep those without the key from crossing our borders. That it has failed to do so in your case in very troubling.”

  She didn't appreciate the look he was giving her, and took a step back. Her last willingness to help him vanished. Lifting her hand, she spoke her spell.

  She ignored the startled gasp from the man when a circle of fire appeared above her hand. “Pillar?” the Overseer asked. “I believed you to be underway to the Capital at a gentle pace.”

  Liane nodded once. “I was, Overseer. When I entered the village to settle the bill for the rented horse, I was called on urgent business by local...” she glanced at Little Jim and the man who had brought her here, “... dignitaries. Apparently, a member of a foreign military service breached the Great Barrier, when his transportation device, which he calls an 'airplane' and I assume to be some form of floater, malfunctioned. He was caught by locals, and attempted to use a foreign weapon, some form of miniature cannon, to drive them away. The local constable, I quote 'clonked him good from behind', end quote. He has been in the local jail since he was imprisoned. The locals have been trying to figure out what to do with him since they caught him, and were about to write to the Capital when I arrived.”

  “A foreign invader? That is exceedingly rare,” the Overseer whispered. “And it sets a disturbing precedent. Perhaps the Barrier was more affected than we thought. Find out all you can from this invader, Pillar. I will trust your judgment and back your decision. If he poses no threat, bring him to the Capital and we can determine whether to keep him or deport him. If he poses a danger, liquidate him.”

  The man gasped again, and Liane nodded. “It will be done, Overseer.” She glanced at the man, who suddenly looked a lot more apprehensive than before. Good, perhaps he would be in a more congenial mood now. “I will call back with an update within an hour, and inform you of my decision.”

  “I will instigate an investigation regarding the Barrier in the meantime, Pillar. Pillar Service, out.” The circle vanished, and Liane turned to face the prisoner once more.

  “Hey now! I'm here by accident! I mean no harm!” the man protested, throwing his hands up. Liane flinched, the first note of a combat spell already on her lips, before she realized that the man had obviously meant it as some form of disarmament.

  Liane straightened up. “Do not throw your hands up to an experienced Mage, it usually indicates the beginning of magic being cast in combat,” she told him with a cold voice. “And I will be the determining factor whether you are harmful or not.” She reached into one of the pockets of her Pillar's robes, hoping that the conservation and protection shields had kept the contents intact.

  Apparently, they had, the permanently enchanted robes must have been able to draw enough magic from her damaged core, even while it was unbound, to keep everything fresh and protected. “This vial contains Truth Serum,” the Pillar explained. “You will drink it; I will interrogate you. After this interview, I will determine if you are harmful or not.”

  “Just you?” the man asked, his eyes wide when the vial floated over to him. “Don't you have any sort of trial over here? Where am I, anyway?”

  Liane's lips tugged. “This is your trial, and you should know the country you attempt to invade before actually doing so. You are within the boundaries of the sovereign island nation of Kiria.”

  The man kept staring at the floating vial, now hanging right in front of his face. “This is a trial? You handing me a drink and asking me questions? Where's my lawyer?”

  “A lawyer?” Liane asked, puzzling over the unfamiliar term. “What is a lawyer?”

  “Great, I'm in the Dark Ages,” The prisoner muttered sarcastically. “A lawyer is someone who defends people at trial! Someone to speak up for them, who knows the law, makes sure that everything is done above board!”

  Liane nodded in comprehension. “And why would you need such a person?” she asked, feeling rather curious about the differences in the legal system between Kiria and those beyond the Great Barrier.

  The prisoner looked as if she had suddenly grown an extra head, and she didn't care for it one bit. “Lady, how else am I going to get a fair trial?”

  The Pillar pointed to the vial. “You drink that, and you will either protect yourself or condemn yourself,” she said. “Magic is extremely useful.”

  “So I can just lie to you until I turn green in the face, and you'll let me go? My word is all you need to let me go?” He asked, incredulously, and suddenly realizing he had pretty much implied he would be lying to her.

  The Noble was intensely amused, a grin tugging at her lips. “By all means, drink it, and lie if you can.”

  The man shrugged, took the vial, uncorked it, and drank it down. He opened his mouth to show he'd done so without being asked. Liane found the gesture odd, why would someone show they'd drank the potion? It was impossible to fake, after all. Her smile widened when a sense of wonder spread over the prisoner's face, and his eyes glazed over.

  “To make sure you are under the influence of Truth Serum, I will ask you two questions. Question one, what is your name?” Liane asked, her voice calm and level.

  “Steven David McDonald,” the man replied.

  “As a control question, what is your biggest secret?” Liane then asked. His lips quivered, and it was obvious he was trying to fight. She knew he was under at that moment. Nobody could fight Truth Serum and win.

  “I once wore my sister's underwear as a dare in high school,” the man muttered. Liane didn't know what a high school was, but guessed it must be some equivalent form of the Academy. She couldn't imagine why a man would wear his sister's underwear. No doubt the prisoner was some form of deviant.

  “As you can see, Truth Serum cannot be fought,” the Pillar said, ignoring the man's deviance. As far as perversions went, wearing another gender's underwear was pretty mild and hurt no-one except his self-esteem when found out. “What is your business within Kiria, and what is your ultimate goal?”

  “My airplane broke down, I was forced to eject. I just want to get home, to my family.” His voice took on a plaintive edge. Liane would have felt sorry for the man, had he not threatened Commoners or yelled at her when she tried to help him.

  “Are you a danger to anyone in Kiria, or to the Kirian state itself?” the Pillar asked.

  “Only in self-defense,” he answered.

  “Good,” Liane said, stepping back from the bars. “You will be back to normal in fifteen minutes or so. We will discuss your ability to lie under Truth Serum then. Unless you'd like to continue our discussion while you can't lie?”

  “I can't lie, and it scares me witless. I'm desperately hoping you won't find out any other secrets about me, and that you won't tell anyone about my embarrassing secret,” he replied, truthfully, looking as if he were desperately trying to stop his mouth from talking.

  “And in that lies the power and danger of Truth Serum. There is a reason why only the Adjudicators are allowed to force anyone to drink it, and why Pillars can only administer it on a voluntary basis,” Liane explained. “We will remain silent for the next fifteen minute
s, to allow for the potion to clear your system.”

  “Thank you,” he said, gratefully. He meant it, of course. Truth Serum would have seen to it.

  She dutifully waited the appropriate amount of time to allow for his altered state to wear off before contacting the Overseer again. “Overseer, I have questioned the inv... our guest under Truth Serum. He does not appear to be dangerous at this time, and he believes his arrival to be an accident. At this point, I am willing to escort him back to the Capital myself.”

  The Overseer nodded. “Very well, Pillar. I will log you as being on duty, escorting a foreigner to the Capital. Please do not hesitate to use force should the situation change.”

  “I will, Overseer. Thank you. Do you require my return to be expedited? I am the finest magical theoretician in Kiria, my knowledge may be required to investigate the breakdown in the Great Barrier,” the Pillar offered.

  “That won't be necessary, Pillar. Should the situation change, I will notify you,” the austere woman replied, calmly.

  “Of course, Overseer,” Liane said, feeling the gentle rebuke in her superior's words.

  “Have a good trip, Pillar. Pillar Service, out.” The connection terminated, and Liane looked at the man behind bars, who was now looking quite antsy to be released.

  “I will hold you to good behavior,” Liane warned him. “First, we must locate your method of transport, and make sure that it is not in a location where it may cause harm to anyone. Afterward, we will make our way to the Capital.”

  “Sure, not a problem,” the man answered easily, about ready to agree to anything. Liane waved at the lock, allowing her magic to open the unprotected door. He stepped out eagerly. “Thanks. Is there a place I could get a shower? Maybe a change of clothes?”

  “I will conjure you some clothing,” Liane answered. “Only Noble mansions have showers, so you will have to make do with a stream or river if you wish to bathe.” She wove her left hand, still holding his weapon, and pointed at the door with it. “I think you might need a good meal as well, so maybe the inn would be a good first stop?”

  “Ehm... sure. But do you think you could put that down?” the pilot asked, pointing to the device she was holding. “That really is dangerous.”

  Liane glanced at it, and whispered. Her magic tore into it, reducing it to a molten mass that hung in the air until it cooled enough for her to hold it. “Curious, most of the metal wasn't metal, but some artificial substance,” she stated, half to herself and half to her audience.

  “You guys really do use magic,” the foreigner whispered.

  “Of course,” Liane answered. The mass that was the leftover weapon vanished. “Food and drink? Or would you prefer a river and fresh clothes first?”

  His stomach made a noise that clearly indicated its preference, and Liane resisted the urge to smile whilst she merely indicated the door. The two Commoners remained silent and watched her go. Little Jim cracked his knuckles and gave the visitor a stern glare – as if making a promise about what would happen should the man not behave himself. Liane knew she could take care of herself. The Commoners knew it as well, on some level, but they still wanted to make sure the message was reinforced. She felt oddly reassured by the protectiveness displayed by the two men.

  Ten minutes later, they were seated at the same table Liane had tried to have a drink at. She was holding a new mug of Iron Belly tea, while the pilot had a pewter plate filled with stew in front of him. For a few minutes, she sipped while he ate, neither speaking. Finally, his initial hunger was stilled, and he looked up at her.

  “So, tell me again... where exactly am I?”

  Liane sipped her tea, expecting the question. The foreigner had been too busy and too shocked to absorb much of what she had said, and now that he had calmed down, would want to know more about his situation. “You are on the sovereign island nation of Kiria,” she said, calmly.

  “I've never heard of it,” he admitted candidly. “Can you tell me exactly where it is?”

  “That is not surprising,” the Pillar told him, hiding her faint smile behind her mug of tea. “We are protected by the Great Barrier, we do not want outside interference or invasion. So, it would be very unlikely that you would have heard of us. We have consulates in some larger foreign nations, but those are aimed toward assisting our Nobility on vacation beyond the Barrier, not exactly toward diplomacy with those foreign nations.”

  Steve, the pilot, just looked at her blankly. It was obvious to her that he didn't understand what she was saying. “The last I know, I was over the Atlantic, the next I know, all hell breaks loose and my plane falls from the sky. What you're saying makes no sense.”

  She nodded sagely. “You ignored the warnings of the Great Barrier, and it destroyed your craft. You were lucky to have survived.”

  “Warning!? Lady, I can tell you, I received no warnings!” he shouted, drawing the attention of the patrons in the bar. So far, they had been pretending not to care about the Noble talking to the foreigner in the corner, maintaining the illusion of general conversation while trying not to miss anything. Steve's shouts drew silence over the bar, the patrons holding their breath to watch the Noble swat the foreigner like a fly.

  Liane stiffened, her eyes drilling deep into his. “I am a Pillar of Kiria, one of its foremost practitioners of magic. I can disintegrate you at will. Please maintain a civil tongue in my presence, or I will be forced to do so.”

  The air suddenly seemed chilly, and a small vibration went through the floor and into his seat. Steve swallowed deeply. His back stiffened. “Yes, Ma'am. Sorry, Ma'am.”

  The Pillar's eyes narrowed, attempting to figure out whether he was mocking her or not. The bead of sweat that rolled down his temple convinced her he was thoroughly cowed. She nodded. “Very well, make sure it does not happen again.”

  “Yes, Ma'am,” he replied, relaxing slightly and stiffly returning to his meal.

  “As to the question you posed so rudely, the Great Barrier did indeed give you warning. At the outermost layers, it generates magnetic and atmospheric interference. Your craft's barometer should have indicated tornado warnings, and your compass should have lost all sense of direction.”

  Steve sighed. “We don't really use barometers anymore, and our compasses are electronic rather than magnetic.”

  “The next level should have given you plenty of storm clouds to go with the tornado warnings. Just looking out the window should have given you pause. If you came even closer, then the Barrier would have swatted you like a fly when you crossed the protective line,” Liane replied, sounding totally unconcerned.

  “I was flying over them,” Steve replied.

  Liane blinked. “Over the clouds?” she asked, shocked. “Just what kind of floater were you using?”

  The pilot looked thoughtfully at her, and then said, “I think we are talking about two different things. I am talking about an airplane, a flying machine that flies very high in the sky, very fast.”

  The Kirian noble looked skeptical. “That sounds very dangerous,” she finally commented. Lifting her hand, she whispered a spell. In smoke and air, a floating cart appeared, floating above simulated smoky ground like a real one above the street. “This is a floater. If it fails, it will drop to the ground without damaging the person inside. Unless you're carrying eggs, your cargo would be unscathed as well.”

  Steve stopped eating, and curiously wove his hand through the smoke-image. It wafted apart like the smoke it was, before recombining. “That is cool,” he breathed, staring at the image.

  “Really?” Liane asked. “The smoke should be room temperature. Are you ill, that you feel it as chilled?”

  He burst out laughing, and Liane's ire rose. He immediately noticed her growing glare, and composed himself in quick order. “Sorry, sorry, that was just funny! 'Cool' in English means that something is impressive, or interesting. That you took it as a temperature was just funny.”

  “I see,” the Pillar said, her ire momentarily abat
ed. “We will see how 'funny' it is when you are the one being laughed at.”

  “Anyway, I still don't understand something,” Steve said, trying to change the subject. “I still don't know where this island is – I was supposed to be flying over open ocean; there weren't supposed to be any islands on the route.”

  Liane shrugged. “We are where we are,” she answered philosophically, inwardly very amused at watching his face twitch with annoyance. That would teach him to laugh at her. “We aren't on your maps because your cartographers don't know about us. How can they include us on your maps if they don't know we even exist?” she finally said, answering his question as best she could.

  He grabbed for something in one of the many pockets of the outfit he was wearing. He came back with a small book. Flipping it open, he pointed to an incredibly detailed map, more detailed than any cartographer would ever be able to draw. “I think we're still talking about different things,” he said, diplomatically. “You see, we use satellites.” When he saw she didn't understand, he explained, “think of a satellite as a machine that takes pictures, very, very high up in the sky. So, the satellite should have photographed the island and put it on the map.”