by Izzy Shows
“But Aidan has always been a recluse. He never reports in. And nothing’s been amiss in London…”
“Are you bloody joking?” I said, shocked. “Everything’s been going wrong! There was a Gods-damned necromancer trying to blow up the city, a trio of vampires went rogue and turned a whole bunch of newborns, and a succubus started feeding on the magical community like it was going out of style. You name it, it’s happened. And I’m the only reason none of it worked out.” I sounded a little full of myself just then, I realised, but I hoped it was the one thing that would get me out this. “Aidan died at Tyburn Tree, when the necromancer attacked. He’s buried behind his house right now. Fred can attest to it.”
Everyone was staring at me, and it was incredibly unnerving, but I did my best to stand tall.
“Fred?” The tanned man spoke again, one of his eyebrows lifted. “Who is Fred?”
“Uh…Aidan’s helper? He lived with him. I call him Fred.”
“Ah. You mean Droopy,” he said with a chuckle.
I perked up at that. That was what Aidan had allegedly called Fred before I came along and assumed control of the house. Fred had said as much when I met him, and if this person knew Aidan’s nickname for him, then maybe they had been friends. Maybe he would be on my side in all of this.
“How do we know you didn’t kill Aidan to take control of his territory?” The centre man was speaking again, breaking the charming little moment I was having and reminding me that this trial wasn’t going my way.
I sighed. “Because I don’t want to be a part of any of this? I swear, I was just trying to pay my rent when I met Aidan. I took the wrong job, which really wasn’t my fault. This ghost totally scammed me. I actually didn’t get paid.” I frowned, remembering it. She’d said that if I needed her aid, I could have it, and I had almost forgotten about that since. What good would a ghost be?
On the other hand, she had been able to trick me into thinking she was a living, breathing person. Maybe she could do more. It sure would be nice if I could call her forward right now so she could testify as to what all had happened. She knew what Deacon had been, and she could tell them that she had hired me, and that I hadn’t been involved in his death.
Although it didn’t seem like it was his death that I needed to be worried about.
“Besides”—my voice cracked as I thought about Aidan—“Aidan meant a lot to me. I would never kill him. I didn’t know him long, but… I don’t know how to explain it. I grew attached to him. I thought he was going to teach me things. I thought I was going to get to be a part of a community. And it turns out I’m just as alone in all of this as I was before, and I don’t have anyone showing me the ropes, and all I’m doing is trying to keep everyone alive. I feel like a nurse on the battlefield trying to do triage, but bombs keep going off left and right, and it’s all I can do to keep myself alive.”
That was the most honest I’d ever been, but it didn’t matter. I could see in their eyes that they all thought I was some great actress, and that I was making everything up. Well, fuck them. I wasn’t making up a word of it. I really was struggling to get by with all of this. Every day, it felt like there was a new crisis in London. Every time I thought I had something sorted out, a new something came along to ruin it.
Like this. There were more important things I should be dealing with—I just knew it. Maybe the next crisis hadn’t come knocking on my door yet because they’d got there first, but something was going to blow up, and I wouldn’t be there to handle it because these wankers were keeping me busy.
“Tell us what happened at Tyburn Tree.” The tanned one spoke again, his voice gentle. It was probably rude, but I found myself wondering what his ethnicity was. America was supposed to be some sort of melting pot, so there was probably no figuring it out, but he looked like he might be Mexican. Why the hell am I wondering about a thing like that right now? I mentally shook my head to clear my thoughts.
I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. “The necromancer was preparing a ritual, harvesting the energy of the dead to set off some kind of bomb, I guess. I don’t really know the details of it. Like I said, no one’s been telling me anything, and Aidan was a little busy trying to figure out how to stop it at the time. I wasn’t supposed to be involved in any of it. I eavesdropped on the wrong conversation and was almost killed by some Warlock thugs, but Aidan showed up.” My lips curved up in a smile as I remembered him. “He was such a show-off. He had his staff with him and was doing this Moses thing with it. Gods, I thought it was ridiculous at the time, and I didn’t believe what I was seeing, but he fought them off, and then he…”
I stopped abruptly, remembering that he had tried to use mind magic on me, and that was when he realised I had my own abilities. But I didn’t want to tell them that, because I didn’t want to tarnish his memory, and he’d said it was magic he wasn’t supposed to be using.
“When he walked towards me, I got scared and mentally pushed at him. I didn’t know what I was doing, but he recognised the magic within me.” That wasn’t an outright lie. I had mentally pushed back at him when he tried to invade my mind. And I had been scared. It just wasn’t the whole truth. “Anyway, he took me back to his place and told me what I was and roped me into helping him.”
I paused, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. The judges were all staring at me, waiting for me to continue. I knew that this was what was going to save me or kill me, this speech I was giving right now. I felt woefully unprepared for what I was doing.
“We worked together on figuring out what the ritual was. When I found the site of the ritual—Tyburn Tree—I could see how big it was, how dangerous, but I didn’t know exactly how bad it was. I warned Aidan, but he said he could handle it. When the night came for us to disrupt the ritual and take down the necromancer, he was kidnapped from the house, and he tricked me into hiding in the basement. I didn’t see who took him, because I was caged in the circle down there. A paladin came to the house, Fred let her in, and she let me out of the circle. We went together to Tyburn Tree, where we fought a lot of the undead. Emily, the paladin, broke the necromancer’s circle and killed him, but not before he killed Aidan. Once the necromancer was dead, so were his monsters.”
And that was it. That was all that I could tell them about the attack. I had successfully skirted the topic of how Emily had been able to get close enough to the circle to break it. I had left out my deal with Mal and the power I’d used to take down enough of the undead to give Emily the break she needed to get there. I could only hope it would be enough.
“How do we know she isn’t lying?” One of the judges spoke up after a long moment of silence.
My face fell as I realised what was happening. They were discrediting my story. They were going to find me guilty.
“For all we know, she was working with the necromancer to kill Aidan. She led them to his house, and then she killed the necromancer to take his power from him. We all know how these Warlocks work, and the word of a Warlock is worth nothing.”
“I am not a Warlock!” I banged my fist against the railing, pain shooting up my arm, though I ignored it. “I’m telling you the truth! How can you be so blind?”
“I urge you to find her guilty, Chancellor. She’s too dangerous.”
“I am not dangerous!”
The Chancellor was silent for a long while. It felt like he was boring holes into me with his eyes as he stared at me. I didn’t know what he was going to do.
“I agree. She’s too dangerous,” he said at last. “Blair Sheach, we find you—”
The doors behind me burst open with a loud bang. I whipped my head around to see what was happening, and there, in all her glory, was Emily.
She was wearing her full armour, her sword slung over her back, and she looked a fierce and terrific sight. A breath of relief escaped me; she had come for me. How had she got there? I couldn’t stop the tears from clouding my eyes at the sight of my one true friend.
�
�Sirs,” she said, inclining her head.
“Paladin, this is most unusual,” the Chancellor said, and when I looked back at him, I could see that he was highly uncomfortable with her presence.
“And yet warranted,” she said, smiling calmly at them as she strode into the room. “Do you intend to force one of the Seven from your chambers?” She sounded so innocent when she spoke, but the colour drained from the Chancellor’s face.
“We would never,” he said, shifting his gaze away from the spot she occupied behind me. “What is your business here?”
What the hell does ‘one of the Seven’ mean? Oh, I was going to have a talk with Emily when all this was over. How did she have so much clout that they would allow her to barge in like this?
At that moment, someone else came skittering into the room. “I’m so sorry, my lords!” I turned to look at the harried individual, who looked well and truly flustered. “I tried to tell her you were busy…”
“I simply explained to him that you couldn’t possibly be too busy to meet with me,” Emily said sweetly. “As for my business, I am here to vouch for the innocence of this mage.” She gestured at me.
I turned to look back at the half-circle of Wizards, my eyes wide as I took in their faces. Some of them were angry, but a few of them looked concerned.
“What would you know about this Warlock?”
“That she is no Warlock, of course. I fought with her, and I can attest to the fact that she had nothing to do with the deaths of either the necromancer or Aidan Wallace. Any magic I have seen her use has been for the good of the community. I am sure that she would have notified you of her presence, if only she had known the proper channels,” she said.
The tips of my ears burned at that, because she was wrong. I would never have told them that I was in London and practicing magic, even if I had known how. I had always intended to keep myself a secret from them, and I intended to find out who had turned me in.
“Very well. If what you say is true, then we of course will find her…innocent.” The Chancellor was glaring at me now. I could feel his hatred of having been trapped in this turn of events. He wanted me dead. “Now, we shall see if you possess the capacity to be trained to become a Wizard, or if you are simply a hedge witch. You will endure the Proving. A series of thirteen trials.”
My eyes flared with anger. I was no hedge witch, and my involvement at Tyburn Tree should have been all the proof they needed of that. I bowed my head so they couldn’t see the impudence writ across my face. “If that is the Order’s will, then so be it,” I said.
I would prove myself.
Twelve
Now that my life was no longer in danger and I was not considered a Warlock, Emily had no reason to stay. She left the Order’s chambers before I could say a word to her. That was fine with me; we were going to talk about what had happened whether she liked it or not.
It turned out that not being a Warlock had its perks, because the Order didn’t want me to go through the Proving without the full use of my faculties. I was escorted out of the judgement chamber and taken to another room for healing. I hadn’t even known that there was healing magic, and I dearly wished I could learn it. I was constantly getting into scrapes that left me battered for weeks on end—like this broken arm of mine. If I could get it turned around in a shorter amount of time… Well, that would be just perfect.
My escort led me to the room, then assured me that he would be back for me later, as soon as Master Reed was done with me. He left without another word. I hesitated before opening the door, but pushed through my anxiety and walked in.
“Hello, Ms. Sheach.” An elderly gentleman was standing on the far side of the room, alongside a cot, smiling warmly at me. This must be Master Reed, I thought. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He gestured for me to take a seat on the cot, and I did so.
“Is it really? I don’t seem to be getting that reaction from the others.”
“Oh, the High Council of the Order can be a little prickly towards new mages, but I’m sure they’ll warm up to you once you’ve moved past the Proving. I’ve heard quite a lot about your adventures and what you’ve done for the local community. At least allow this one member of the Order to thank you for stepping up when it was necessary,” he said.
Warmth rushed through me and filled my cheeks, and I had to look away so he wouldn’t see how my eyes were watering. I hadn’t expected gratitude from anyone I would meet here, and it meant so much coming from someone who had been in the Order, who had worked with actual Wizards. That he thought anything I was doing was even good enough…
I inhaled deeply and forced a smile to my lips. “Thank you. I really appreciate that.”
“Now, let’s have a look at that arm of yours. It seems to be the most obvious place to start.”
“Right,” I said, shifting so he could access my arm more easily. “It seemed to be on the mend last night—I had a human doctor friend of mine look at it—but I was roughed up a bit on my way here, so I really don’t think it’s in good shape. Ah!” I winced as he lifted my arm.
“Terribly sorry, but we’re going to have to take this sling off and roll up your sleeve so I can get a good look at it. I’m sorry to hear the Hand was so difficult on you. They’re quite overzealous when it comes to anyone they think is a Warlock. I can’t get them to see reason, and I can’t get the High Council to see that they need to be restrained.” He helped me get the sling off and rolled up my sleeve as gently as he could; I fought very hard to keep from wincing repeatedly. “Like I said, things will get better once the Proving is over.”
I huffed out a breath. “I’m not sure I even care about the Proving. I mean, I’m stubborn, so of course I have to show them that I can do it, but I don’t know if I want to be in this old boys’ club.” I rolled my eyes at the very thought of it.
He looked up at me, concern filling his eyes. “You can’t mean that. There is so much that you’d have access to as a Wizard of the Order. Knowledge, friendship, people you can depend on if you need help.”
“No offense, but the impression I’ve got is that no one here would come to my aid. I’ve got friends. I’ve got a font of knowledge if I can just figure out the right questions to ask. I don’t see what I need here.”
He sighed. “I don’t think anything I could say would convince you, but I do hope you’ll give it your best. I don’t think you’ll fail the Proving, and I do think you would be a boon to the Order over time.”
I looked away from him. He kept being so nice to me, it was unnerving. I had expected coldness and perhaps hatred from the members of the Order, but that wasn’t what I’d got from him. Sure, the High Council had been a bunch of jerks, but from what he said, they sounded like an isolated case and not very representative of the Order. But then there was the First Hand and how they’d treated me—but again, not representative, according to him. I didn’t know what to think or how to feel about any of this, so I opted to keep my mouth shut.
He ran a hand over my arm. “Inviso,” he said. I felt a tingling moving from my wrist all the way up to my shoulder. It didn’t particularly hurt, but it also wasn’t a pleasant feeling. Much better than having Shawn poke and prod at it to figure out what was going on. “Sano.”
And that was when the real pain started. I bit down on my lip to keep from crying out, tasting blood after a moment or two like that. It felt like my bones were moving—well, they probably were. Knitting back together, rushing along the already uncomfortable healing process which had now turned absolutely painful. Sweat broke out on my forehead and I cringed, squeezing my eyes shut, as if that would somehow stop the pain.
When it finally came to an end after I didn’t know how long, I gasped and opened my eyes.
Reed was watching me with thoughtful eyes. “Very impressive,” he said.
“What are you talking about?” The words came out between wheezing breaths. “That was bloody awful.”
“Yes, of course it is. Healing is not an
easy process, and a very difficult magic to learn. But good in a pinch. Yours, however, was not so difficult, and you withstood the pain very well.”
“Pain is my friend,” I said without hesitation. Pain was all I’d known during my formative years, dealing with the abuse of several foster parents. It was all part of the typical system; I wasn’t a special snowflake for having gone through it.
“Hm,” was all he said before he instructed me to move my arm to the side. He shifted my shirt up a bit so he could see my ribcage, but he was careful not to push it too far up, respecting my boundaries. He brushed his fingers along my skin and repeated the two spells. This time, I was prepared for the pain and managed it with several deep breaths. It still hurt like hell, but it was easier now that I wasn’t surprised by it.
You would think an experienced healer would give you a warning before he did something that hurt you—that was how normal doctors operated. But I guessed that nothing about this was normal.
“Anything else?” He straightened up, and I pulled my shirt back down.
I gestured towards my cheek. “I think I cracked something up there.”
He nodded, frowning. “That’s a dangerous break. Let me look at it.”
Now, that fucking hurt. If I’d thought my arm was bad, I didn’t know a damn thing, because my cheek was hellish. I’d rate it up there in my top five most painful experiences—the Colossal Undead at Tyburn Tree being at the top of that list, of course. But still, mending the bones in my cheek was more painful than I had ever expected.
Just as he was finishing up, the door opened. I turned my head to see the tanned—maybe Mexican—Wizard from the High Council walk in. I scowled at him on reflex, then remembered that he’d spoken fondly of Aidan and forced myself to relax.
He smiled, apparently not taking my scowl to heart. “I see you’re well on the mend, Ms. Sheach,” he said. His American accent sounded so strange, with something of a twang to it. From the south, then?
“Thanks to this man’s rather painful ministrations,” I said, arching an eyebrow when I glanced at the healer.
