Click-tick. Click-tick-tick.
A minion came up behind the shadow and opened a lantern.
I put up my hand to shield my eyes. When I blinked the brights away, I saw him as he stepped closer.
Underlord Crowe.
He looked just the same as he always had. Ordinary. Not tall, not short; not handsome, not plain; not old, not young. Neat black suit, cloak with a fur collar. Combed and oiled dark hair. Pale gray eyes like locks, like gray locks with a keyhole in the middle showing only emptiness. He looked me over and his face stayed still and blank.
He had a hand in his cloak pocket, where he kept his clicker device.
The cold from the wall seeped through my clothes and into my bones. I shivered.
“You. Connwaer,” he said, his voice flat.
I nodded.
Without taking his gaze from me, he spoke to one of the minions in the doorway. “Has he been searched for lockpick wires?”
“Ah, no, sir,” said the minion. He shifted, and the lantern light wavered across the damp cell walls.
“See that it is done,” Crowe said. “Check his hair, the collar of his shirt, his boots, and the seams of his clothing. Do not touch the locus magicalicus when you search him.”
“Yes, sir,” the minion said.
Crowe nodded. A silent, dark moment. “Your locus magicalicus, I am told, is exceptional,” Crowe said. “And my man Pettivox says you have shown an interest in our affairs. Not very intelligent of you, was it, to draw my notice when you have tried for so long to avoid it.”
I stayed quiet. I wasn’t going to talk to him at all if I could help it.
“Your new skills make you worth even more to me.”
I didn’t answer.
“You are just as stubborn as you ever were.” He paused. Click-tick. “You will not join me; that is clear enough. So it follows that you must be dealt with.” Crowe shifted a little, and I edged away from him, along the cold, dank wall, into the corner of the tiny stone room. “We will not seek to harm you. You will simply be left here.” Click-tick-tick-tick, tick-tick. “Four days, possibly five depending on the variables. And you will cease to trouble my plans, just as your mother did.” The way he said it wasn’t a threat, he was just informing me of what would be. He was completely cold, colder than the iciest wind off the river. He looked me up and down; his keyhole eyes calculated how much I was worth, which was nothing.
He turned on his heel, his cloak flaring around. “See to it,” he said to the minions, and left.
The minion holding the lantern set it down in the doorway and crowded into the cell, with the other minion right behind him, blocking the door. “Now, keep still,” one of them said. He reached out for me, and I ducked under his hands, pulling out my locus magicalicus.
“Watch the stone!” one of the minions shouted; the other one grabbed me by the collar of my coat and slammed me hard against the wall; I lost my grip, and my locus stone flew from my hand and went clattering across the stone floor. Before I could go after it, the minion put his forearm across my throat. I gasped for breath. “Keep still,” he growled. I kept still.
While he held me against the wall, the other one searched me. He found the lockpick wires in my pocket right away. “Keep looking,” the minion holding me said. He loomed over me, breathing stinking breath down into my face while the other minion checked my shirt collar, ran his fingers through my hair, pulled my boots off and checked them, and finally found the other set of lockpick wires in the seam of my trousers.
Without speaking, they took the lantern, backed from the cell, and locked the door.
In the darkness, I groped across the floor until I found my locus magicalicus, which had stopped glowing, and put it into my pocket. Then I found my boots and put them on again.
I sat down with my back against the wall. I felt suddenly very tired. Nevery wasn’t going to come and get me out, as he’d done before, when the duchess’s guards had caught me in the Dawn Palace. Without lockpicks, I couldn’t open the door.
A creeping dread seeped into me, along with the cold from the wall and the stone floor. You will simply be left here, Crowe had said. Left here to die, he meant, though that would take a while. Four or five days. I edged into the corner and curled up with my head on my knees, my arms wrapped around me.
The stone room was completely dark and silent. Hours passed. I grew colder and colder. Nevery would not come. The Underlord had left me here while he killed Wellmet’s magic. There was nothing I could do about it. My shivering turned to shaking.
Something touched the top of my head. I looked up, clenching my teeth to hold the shivers in. Nothing, just silence. Then something soft and bitterly cold brushed along my cheek. I jerked away, my eyes wide, seeing nothing.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my locus magicalicus. “Lothfalas,” I whispered. The light flashed, and died down to cast a thin glowing circle around me. In the glow I saw, hovering above me, right below the stone ceiling, a writhing mass of shadows. As I watched, a long, black shadow, rippling like a silken scarf, unraveled from the mass and probed down toward me. I scrambled away, but felt its radiating cold and dread.
Misery eels. A whole nest of them.
“Lothfalas,” I said again, louder. The light from my locus stone pulsed and then contracted. The mass of eels flinched away from the light, then spread across the ceiling. A few rippling shadows snaked down the walls; others gathered in the corners.
I clenched my locus magicalicus. The light dimmed. The eels writhed beyond the dim circle of light, waiting. The light dimmed. “Lothfalas,” I said, my voice sounding wavery and scared. A faint glow seeped from the stone. The eels pressed closer, closer.
Lothfalas. Lothfalas. Lothfalas.
* * *
According to gauge, magic level extremely low. Worried. Feel something is about to happen. Tried scrying globes again, still nothing. Did boy go to Crowe? Or is he up to something else?
After dark, Keeston came in. Pale, shaking with cold. Teeth chattering.—I saw him, Magister. I think it was him. Keeston paused, trembling.—It had to be him, sir. They had a bag over his head.
—What are you talking about? I asked.
—M-magister Nevery, my master sent me to work for you so I could report to him everything that happened here. I didn’t want to do it, sir, but I had to. I’m very s-sorry.
—So you are a spy, too? I asked. Getting angry.
Keeston looked confused.—Too, sir?
—My apprentice has been reporting to the Underlord, I said.
Keeston dried tears.—Conn? No, sir, he would never spy on you.
—You are mistaken, I said.—He is with Crowe at this very moment.
Keeston shook his head.—No he isn’t, sir. Or if he is, he doesn’t want to be. That’s what I came here to tell you. Pettivox’s men captured Conn and locked him in a storeroom. The Underlord was coming; I think they’re going to k-kill him.
Drat the boy. Benet is sure, and now Keeston. Want to believe them. Only one way to be certain.
* * *
CHAPTER 34
I was being stupid.
“Lothfalas,” I said again, and got to my feet. The light from my locus magicalicus grew even fainter, a glow that lit only my hand, making it look green and pale. The rest of the cell seethed with darkness. A misery eel dropped down from the ceiling and settled on the back of my neck, a cold, bitter weight. Shuddering, I reached back and touched it with my locus stone and it dropped off, but another one oozed up from the floor and twined around my leg. Kicking it away, I lunged for the door. In the faint glow of my locus stone, I saw the lock, rusty, the dark keyhole in the center.
I placed my locus magicalicus over the lock; with my other hand I pushed a misery eel away from my face. “Sessamay!” I shouted, and followed with every single gate opening spell I knew. Open! I told the lock. These were not the right spells; the magic might not understand what I was asking for. But if the magic wanted me to save it,
it would have to help me get away from the eels, out of the cell.
Nothing happened. Not even a flicker or flare of magic. More eels dropped down from overhead, a dead, cold weight; others rippled from the floor, up my legs. An icy scarf flowed around my neck, tightened. I caught my breath, slammed the stone against the lock, and gasped out the opening spells again.
The glow from the locus stone flicked out; the misery eels tangled around me. Then the magic gathered itself. The locus stone spat out a burst of sizzling sparks, which shot into the lock and exploded. I threw myself against the door, turning the knob, and, trailing misery eels, fell out of the cell into the hallway.
Nevery was there. The door opening knocked him backward onto the floor; lockpick wires and his cane went flying. He’d been trying to pick the lock to get me out.
Keeston stood beside him, eyes wide, clutching a lantern. I landed on the floor, eels swarming over me.
“Curse it, boy,” Nevery said. “What are you doing?”
“Watch out for the eels!” I shouted. Reacting to the lantern light, the misery eels covering me oozed away. A shadowy mass of them gathered in the cell doorway.
Nevery saw them. He snatched up his cane and got to his feet. “The light should hold them,” he said. “Are you all right, boy?”
“Yes, fine,” I said, my voice shaking. I scrambled away from the door. An eel reached out into the corridor, testing. Keeston flinched.
“Don’t drop the light, Keeston,” Nevery growled.
We’d be dead if he did.
Nevery straightened and scowled at me. “Why didn’t you answer when I called?”
From outside the door? “I didn’t hear you,” I said. The eels must have muffled the sound.
“Hmph,” Nevery said. “Well, come along.” He whirled and went tap tap tapping down the hallway, Keeston and I following. The lantern light made a bubble of safety around us, and we left the misery eels behind.
We went up the stairs to the ground floor of Pettivox’s house, which I hadn’t seen before because I’d had a bag over my head. It was dark and echoing and empty.
Keeston went ahead of us with the lantern. Nevery dropped back to walk beside me. “Well?” He frowned down at me.
“Nevery, I’m not Crowe’s,” I said.
“I have realized that, boy.”
“Here’s the front door,” Keeston said over his shoulder.
Benet was there, standing guard over two of Pettivox’s men, both gagged and tied up with ropes. Benet nodded when he saw me. “Found him?”
“Yes,” Nevery said, pausing to button up his cloak. “Take him and Keeston back to Heartsease.” He headed for the door.
“No, Nevery,” I said.
He stopped and looked back at me. “Come along, boy,” he said impatiently. “You’ve caused enough trouble and confusion already. The magic level has fallen drastically during the past two days; I have a meeting to attend at Magisters Hall.”
I shook my head.
“What, boy?” Nevery said. Benet stepped closer to hear, and Keeston stood beside us with the lantern.
I clenched my hands. He wasn’t going to believe me. “The Underlord and Pettivox are stealing the magic tonight, Nevery. Right now. We have to stop them.”
“Boy,” Nevery began. “I do not—”
“Nevery,” I interrupted, getting desperate. “I went to Dusk House today. Last night, I mean. I saw the machine.” I shivered, remembering its pulsing and crashing and the empty hole it had left in the night when it had sucked in the magic. “The Underlord and Pettivox built a prisoning device. A capacitor. They’ve captured almost all the city’s magic. If we don’t go now and stop them, they will steal it all and Wellmet will die.”
“You claim you saw a machine?” Nevery asked. “Some kind of device?”
I nodded. “It was huge.”
“In the Underlord’s mansion? How did you get inside?”
I opened my mouth to answer.
“Never mind,” Nevery said quickly. “I don’t want to know.” He stared down at me, pulling on the end of his beard.
“I’ll go by myself if I have to, Nevery,” I said.
“You would go and do what, boy? Stop the Underlord? Destroy this magical device?”
I nodded. The magic had chosen me for this; I wasn’t going to let it die without trying to help it.
For a moment, all was still. I held my breath, waiting. Nevery could decide I was a liar and a thief, or he could trust me.
“Hmmm,” Nevery said. “A prisoning device. I suppose such a thing is possible.” He looked down at me. “All this time, boy, and you’ve never lied to me?”
I shook my head. I never had.
Slowly, Nevery nodded. “Well then. We will go together.”
CHAPTER 35
When we stepped out of Pettivox’s house, it was night again. I’d spent the whole day in the basement room.
“We need to warn the duchess and ask her to send guards to Dusk House,” I said.
Nevery paused at the bottom of the steps. “Benet can go.”
“Keeston would be better,” I said. He was all right, and we needed Benet with us.
Nevery raised his eyebrows. “Would he?” He looked over at Keeston. “Well, Keeston. Can you be trusted?”
Keeston, still gripping the lantern, gulped, then nodded. “Yes, sir. I swear it. You can trust me, I promise, and—”
“Yes, all right,” Nevery interrupted. “Run to the Dawn Palace and tell the duchess what is happening. Tell her we’ve gone ahead to the Twilight, and that she must send as many guardsmen as she can. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Keeston said. He spun and raced off, slipping a bit on the snow.
“Let’s go,” I said, and Nevery, Benet, and I headed toward the Night Bridge, to cross into the Twilight.
The streets were deserted and dark; the werelights had gone out. The night felt desolate, empty. I put my hand in my pocket to check on my locus magicalicus, and it felt empty, too, and dead. The magic was gone.
We rushed down the hill like three black shadows, our feet crunching on the icy street, until we reached the Night Bridge. Ahead, the road led into the narrow way between the buildings on the bridge.
“Hold up,” Benet said suddenly, and grabbed Nevery and me by the arms to stop us. We stood, our breath steaming on the frigid air. Ahead, the bridge was completely dark, like a cave.
“What’s the matter?” Nevery asked.
Benet shook his head. “Too quiet. Underlord might’ve posted guards.”
“Benet, we can’t wait,” I whispered.
Benet pulled a truncheon out of his belt. “Follow.”
He led the way onto the dark bridge. Our footsteps sounded very loud in the silence.
Then, from out of the shadows, five dark shapes emerged. Minions. They didn’t stop to warn us off, they just leaped at us, wielding clubs.
Benet stepped up to meet them, truncheon swinging. “Go!” he shouted over his shoulder. He ducked a punch.
Nevery and I backed up, our way across the bridge blocked. Three of the minions followed, until Benet threw his truncheon. It whirled through the air and clipped a minion on the back of the head; he fell over like a chopped tree. Benet leaped on the others. “I’ll deal with these,” he shouted. “Just go!”
We turned and hurried away. I turned and looked over my shoulder and saw one of the minions wrench himself from Benet’s grip and start after us. We went faster.
We didn’t speak; the minion following us didn’t shout. I heard my own panting breaths, and Nevery’s, and the tap of Nevery’s cane, and the crunch crunch crunch of our feet and the pursuing feet on the icy road.
We put on a burst of speed and rounded a corner, Nevery’s cloak flaring as he spun around. He pulled out his locus magicalicus. “Remirrimer,” he said, and started muttering a spell.
Not enough magic. The minion was getting closer. I pulled on his sleeve. “Come on!”
Nevery cursed, and
we started off again. “This way,” I said, and pointed down a street that led toward the river.
In the Sunrise, the riverbanks were walls built of stone, with stone stairways leading down to wooden docks. We paused on the riverbank, catching our breaths.
The air was absolutely still and brittle cold; if somebody hit it, it would shatter into a thousand sharp-edged pieces. There was no sound of rushing water.
I pointed at the river. “It’s frozen. I think we can cross on the ice.”
“Yes,” Nevery said, straightening, and then the minion was on us. He was big and brawny; he shoved me out of the way and swung a fist at Nevery.
Nevery grappled with him and they went rolling down the nearest set of stone stairs, down to a dock. I raced down after them, leaped from the bottom step onto the minion’s back, and bit him on the ear. It tasted worse than the rat’s tail. The minion shook me off; then Nevery swung the gold knob of his cane into the minion’s face. “Hah!” he shouted.
The minion staggered back, blood streaming from his nose.
I scrambled to my feet. “You all right?” I asked.
“Yes, boy,” Nevery gasped. Behind us, the minion put his hands to his face and shook his head. Drops of blood spattered around him.
I turned to survey the river. It was laid out before us, still, frozen, the ice clean and smoothly black. To the left loomed the Night Bridge; no lights shone from the opposite shore.
Carefully, I stepped out onto the ice. Without speaking, Nevery followed.
We set off, sliding our feet along, skff skff, Nevery using his cane to balance himself. The riverbank receded behind us. Overhead, the sky was black and stars shone down as bright as daggers.
Halfway across, we paused. My breath puffed out in white clouds before my face. I looked back across the ice. The minion was coming.
“Keep going,” Nevery said.
Under my feet, the ice trembled. “Wait,” I whispered. I bent down and put my hand flat on the surface. The cold burned. And I felt the river rushing by, just below my fingers.
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