Conrad Edison and the Infernal Design (Overworld Arcanum Book 4)

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Conrad Edison and the Infernal Design (Overworld Arcanum Book 4) Page 5

by John Corwin


  I squeezed her with what little strength the potion had restored and rested my head on her shoulder. "I'm so glad Shushiel saved you. I thought for sure the crowd would trample you."

  Max stood behind Ambria grinning ear to ear. He reached out to slap my shoulder, saw the moss compress and took his hand back. "I knew you were too tough for a bunch of stupid assassins."

  I let go of Ambria and felt oddly cold as her heat receded from me. "No, I'm not too tough. They nearly got me this time, Max."

  He looked over my shoulder. "Professor Fellini healed you."

  "You may call me Asha outside of the class room, Max." Asha walked to my side and inspected the moss compress. "Leave this on until it turns black and falls off."

  Max leaned over and whispered in my ear. "You'll never believe who that man with the goatee is."

  "Kanaan." I chuckled at his disappointed look.

  "You could have at least pretended not to know." I looked back at the magitsu master who now stood near the exit to the building a few feet away. "He said Emily Glass sent him."

  "Whoa." Max's jaw dropped open. "I thought she was dead."

  "She vanished years ago," Ambria said. "Or so I read in the history books."

  "You should go with Kanaan," Asha said. "There are probably other assassins in the Grotto who will do whatever it takes to kill you."

  "Why would my father put so much effort into killing me?" I pressed a hand to my forehead as if that would quiet all the conflicting thoughts. "It's not like I'm dangerous to him."

  Kanaan tapped his temple. "You have something dangerous up here."

  "My brain?"

  "Memories from your parents," he said. "The demon who held their souls inside told Emily that parts of your parents remained."

  "No, the soul shards are gone," I said. "I don't hear them anymore." I thought back to the vision about the room and the boxes. "Well, except for a memory that Della left me."

  "Della?" Asha said.

  I felt like a mental patient revealing their problems to an outsider even though I'd heard the voices of my parents not due to mental illness, but because parts of their souls had been left behind after their resurrection. "I called Delectra's soul shard Della, and Victus's Vic so I could tell them apart."

  Asha winced. "You had them trapped in your head?"

  "They're gone now."

  "Tell me about the memory," Kanaan said.

  I recounted the incident.

  "A clue." He nodded once. "Victus suspects you have information that could harm his plans."

  "That seems like an awfully big stretch." Max shook his head. "I mean, how would Victus know about the memory?"

  "He probably doesn't know specifics," Ambria said, "but remember, Delectra spent a lot of time with Conrad as Esma Emoora. Victus probably thinks she told him something."

  Sorrow pierced my heart, but I took a deep breath and tried not to show it.

  Asha touched my good shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Conrad. I talked with Esma—with Delectra—many times and she spoke fondly of you."

  "She did?" My heart rose. "I didn't know you spoke with her." Of course teachers talk to each other, dummy.

  "We spoke quite often." Asha sighed. "I was surprised when the dreaded Professor Emoora wanted to have tea with me the first time. The other professors said she was not very sociable."

  "Duh," Max said. "It's because she was Delectra, not Esma Emoora."

  Ambria punched him on the shoulder. "None of us knew that, Max."

  It seemed I had more reasons to talk with Asha. "I would very much like to hear about your conversations."

  "We will make time for it Conrad, I promise." Asha turned to Kanaan. "Can you get them back to Queens Gate safely?"

  "I will do my best," the magitsu master replied. He looked straight up at the ceiling. "Shushiel, will you scout the way?"

  "How did you know I was here?" said a disembodied voice.

  "Ancient Chinese secret," he said and opened the door to leave.

  Max's mouth dropped open. "Did he just make a joke?"

  "He was probably serious," Ambria said.

  I saw a blur move through the door as the camouflaged Shushiel crawled outside after Kanaan. Asha touched my arm. "Make sure you get plenty of rest. Whatever you do, don't let Percival give you any of his experimental potions. That man is a menace."

  I smiled. "I'll avoid him the best I can."

  More injured people lined the street outside, though most looked far better than those inside. Among the healers tending to them, I saw Percival, a delighted smile on his face.

  He handed a weary-looking man a vial. "I swear this will make you right as rain!"

  The man looked warily at another person retching into the gutter and shook his head. "I'll take my chances without your snake oil."

  "Snake oil?" Percival shouted. "This is a highly effective experimental potion!"

  Our group slipped around the corner before Percival saw us and followed Kanaan down a narrow street. Shushiel left red-tinted arrows made of webbing on the buildings to let us know which ways were clear as we proceeded through the town. Before long, we passed through the plaza where the riot had broken out.

  Yellow lines glowed around the crime scene, barricading it from public access. Templars and Blue Cloaks huddled around covered bodies. I counted a dozen still figures, two of which lay close to our route through the zone. The buildings on the perimeter bore scorch marks and the trees were blackened by fire. It looked like a warzone.

  Xander Tiberius stood with a group of Blue Cloaks, his face clouded with anger. He glanced our way and his eyes widened as they settled on Max. Max turned his face away and shivered. "Is he still looking?"

  His father scowled and turned back to the investigators.

  "No," I said.

  We entered an alley marked safe by Shushiel and stopped at the end while Kanaan looked for her next arrow. Instead, the ruby spider shimmered into view at the end of a thread.

  "Bad men come," she said. "Run the other way."

  "How many?" Kanaan asked.

  "Three."

  He pursed his lips. "Few enough." Kanaan motioned us against the wall. "Stay hidden."

  "Wait, I have a spell for that," Ambria said, and flourished her wand.

  Kanaan held up a hand to stop her. "The hook is baited. Do nothing." He touched a ruby on the silver bracelet on his right wrist and blurred into camouflage with the wall. Three men in black robes burst around the corner seconds later, staffs at the ready.

  The skull of a ram stared blankly at us from the top of one man's staff. He stood over six feet tall, thickly proportioned and bald. Gray streaks laced his long, wooly beard and tattoos patterned his face. The man's black eyes sent chills down my spine. He stood back while the other two men advanced on me.

  They were shorter and thinner than the man with the ram staff. One had similar tattoos on the left side of his face, but far fewer. The other one had no ink that I could see. They held their staffs out like professional battle mages.

  "We can take him alive, Garkin," said one of the men.

  Garkin held up a hand, narrowed gaze surveying the area. "No, they are not alone." He pounded his staff on the ground and a shockwave reverberated through the air. Shushiel flickered into view on the wall behind them and Kanaan appeared to our left.

  "I heard you were back, Kanaan." Garkin pursed his lips and looked up at Shushiel. "New friends, I see."

  "There is no need for bloodshed." Kanaan twirled a wand in each hand. "I am the guardian of the boy."

  "I agree," Garkin replied calmly. "There is no need for anyone to die." He nodded at me. "Not even the boy. Give him over to me and I will ensure he survives whatever Victus plans for him."

  "Not good enough." Kanaan's eyes darted back and forth among the three men.

  My stomach twisted and churned at the thought of merely surviving what my father wanted to do to me. Death would probably be better. The name Garkin sounded familiar to me, but I f
elt certain I'd never met him before. I stared at the ram's skull. A purple jewel in its forehead glittered.

  A dim cave. Dripping water. Victus stands next to a coffin, speaking with Garkin. I cannot hear what they say. Victus trusts me only so far. He has seen the cracks in his control over me. It will not be long before he recalls the demon to corrupt me once again. He will need me by his side now that the Overworld is his for the taking. Never again will he let me run away.

  Garkin looks over at me. Nods grimly. He despises all that the Overworld stands for. He sees unity among the factions as weakness. It is his wish for Arcanes to rule supreme even if Victus is the leader and not him. If only I could save my son from this torment.

  Victus meets my eyes. Anger flashes as he recognizes the weakness in my face. No, there is no escape this time.

  I gasped and jerked back into reality. Ambria gripped my arm with one hand, wand out in the other. I didn't know how long I'd been gone—seconds? Minutes? The standoff hadn't changed. Garkin still spoke with Kanaan.

  That man helped Victus imprison my mother. Anger swelled like a black churning mass in my gut. "What did Victus do to my mother? What is that room with all the coffins?"

  Garkin raised an eyebrow and turned to me. His attention settled on my shoulders like lead weights. "Did Delectra tell you about that, or is it a memory from the soul shard?"

  I realized I'd just confirmed Victus's suspicions about me. Then again, he'd already tried to kill me with no solid evidence, so it probably didn't matter. "Victus failed the last time he tried to rule the Overworld, and he'll fail again."

  "The last time, he had Ivy Slade to contend with." Garkin held his heavy gaze on me. "All of his principle enemies are no more, boy. In a short time, even your knowledge will be no threat to him."

  "He doesn't know anything!" Ambria shouted. "Leave him alone, you evil bastards."

  "He doesn't know what he doesn't know," one of the other men with Garkin said. "He could remember at any time."

  And therein lay the problem. So long as I had the potential to recall more about this coffin cave, Victus would do his best to take me out. From what Garkin said, it sounded like I had very little time to stop him from doing whatever he planned. What was the short time he needed? Days? Weeks? A month?

  "Last chance, Kanaan." The purple jewel on the ram's skull began to glow. "Things did not go so well for you the last time we fought."

  "My duty is clear." Kanaan brandished his wands.

  "You're not serious, are you?" Max said. "No one can beat Kanaan!"

  My grip tightened around my wand. "My father underestimated me in our last fight." I gritted my teeth and tried to look fierce, but my lanky teenage frame was nothing compared to this bear of a man facing me. "I'm not a helpless boy anymore."

  "You're a helpless teenager," the mage to Garkin's left said. "Enough talk, Garkin. Let's do our job and have an ale."

  "Really, Boris?" Garkin gave the other man a sideways glare. "You think it so easy to defeat Kanaan?"

  "The man is all legend, no substance." The mage spat on the ground. "I fought in the war with him. He didn't impress me."

  "Let's kill them all and be done with it," the other mage said.

  Garkin sighed. "It appears we must fight." He slammed his staff on the cobblestones. Brilliant light flashed.

  Kanaan slashed a wand through the air and a dark wave countered the light. Purple energy poured from Garkin's staff, a scorching ray of magic that tore through stone. Kanaan rolled beneath the death ray. His second wand shot a beam of webbed light at Boris, but the mage leapt over the spell.

  The unnamed mage parried Kanaan's first wand with his staff. Kanaan gripped the staff and catapulted himself up into the air. The tips of his wands glowed orange and he drove them into the man's ears. The mage's head lit up inside like a jack-o-lantern. A brief scream ripped through his throat before brain matter exploded from his nostrils and his eyes popped from their sockets.

  Kanaan wasted no time, spinning to block a beam of magic from Garkin. Wands and staff whirled into blurs as each man parried the other.

  Boris ignored the fight and came for us, a sphere of red energy pulsating atop his staff.

  Ambria flicked her wand and a shield spell flickered in front of me. Max took out a black glass marble and blew on it three times then threw it toward the feet of the mage. A bolt of red intercepted the marble. Black liquid spattered the ground and spread.

  Boris's lip curled into a sneer. "What was that, a smoke bomb, little boy?" His smile vanished the instant his feet touched the dark liquid and lost all traction. Arms windmilling, the mage went down hard and slid helplessly across the slick.

  "That's what you get for being a smart ass!" Max shouted.

  Esma had taught us a simple spell for shocking each other during magical sparring matches. She'd also taught me its more powerful sibling. I flicked the wand through the pattern. I no longer needed words to help focus my spells, but I was too angry to remain silent. "Amparus!" Electricity buzzed from my wand and hit the helpless mage in the face.

  Skin sizzled, hair burned, and a horrific odor filled the air along with Boris's scream of pain. His head cracked into the stone wall and his body went limp. Shushiel bounded from the wall and wrapped the mage in silken threads.

  Kanaan flipped backward and fired shots from both wands. Garkin spun his staff and the shots ricocheted, knocking the wand from Kanaan's right hand. The mage advanced, casting small shield spells to intercept every shot his opponent fired. Kanaan ducked beneath Garkin's slashing staff and jammed a wand into the other man's knee.

  Green light splashed across Garkin's robes. The mage flipped backward, his foot catching Kanaan in the chin and throwing him against the wall.

  "Get him!" I said to the others.

  Max threw another slick ball. I fired electricity, and Ambria launched a volley of blinding spheres. Garkin caught the sphere of potion with a web of light and threw it against a building. He dispersed Ambria's flash spell with a gout of dark light, and shielded himself from my attacks.

  Shushiel dropped a web from above. The mage rolled away before it could land on him. Kanaan recovered his wands, and climbed to his feet. Blood trickled from a cut on his chin and burn marks marred his form-fitting robes.

  Garkin looked down at his fallen companions and shook his head, turned his gaze up to Kanaan. "We'll have to reschedule, apprentice." He backed down the alley and vanished around the corner.

  Chapter 7

  Kanaan dropped to a knee, wands clattering to the ground. "That was close."

  "Are you okay?" Ambria rushed to his side and checked his wounds.

  "The student has not surpassed the teacher." Kanaan took a vial from a pouch and drank the green contents. He corked it and put it back.

  "Wait a minute," Max said, "Garkin was your teacher?"

  Whatever the magitsu master drank seemed to give him strength and healing. The cut on his chin zipped shut right before our eyes. He patted Ambria's hand. "I am fine, thank you." Kanaan rose to his feet and flicked his wands into their holsters.

  Max balled up his trembling hands. "Is that a yes?"

  Kanaan knelt next to the unnamed mage and examined him. "The first masters devised three paths of mastery, the rock, the tree, the monkey. Those aligned with the rock stand firm and unyielding. They align with strength." He stood and walked over to Boris and felt for a pulse. "Those who follow the way of the tree bend in the face of adversity. They dodge and weave, observing their enemy for weakness, but will only strike if necessary. They align with intelligence."

  Max frowned. "So they avoid fights?"

  "The monkey slips beneath his opponent's defenses, punishing him with speed and trickery."

  "Agility?" Ambria said.

  Kanaan nodded. "Precisely."

  Max groaned. "Is this the really long way to answer my original question?"

  "Garkin taught me the path of the rock," Kanaan replied. "I had already mastered agility, but
in my youthful hubris, thought I could master all three paths."

  "Is it impossible?" Max asked.

  "No." Kanaan rolled Boris onto his back, careful not to touch the sticky threads binding him, and peeled back the man's eyelids. The dilated pupil shrank in response to the light. He took out another vial of green liquid and dripped it into the stricken man's mouth. "Each path is a different way of thought. One must hone their reflexes and physique to suit the chosen way."

  I nodded. "In other words, switching from a rock to a monkey is difficult."

  Kanaan continued administering the potion to Boris. "A mind does not easily switch modes of thought. If I gave you a broom where left was right and up was down, could you adjust?"

  "Sure, it's easy," Max said.

  I gave it some thought and imagined how my reflexes might betray me if I tried to fly a broom like that through an obstacle course. "It would take time, but I could do it."

  "Yes. I learned the path of the rock, but I cannot switch between it and the monkey without preparation." Kanaan felt Boris's neck again and nodded. "He will survive."

  "Why save him?" Max said. "He'll only come after us again."

  "He's a murderer." Ambria's hand curled into a fist.

  Kanaan brushed off the knees of his pants. "I agree with the way of the tree in some regards. Life is precious. If it must be taken, then take it. If it can be spared, spare it." He looked at the downed man. "He is a battle mage, not a follower of magitsu. I will end his life if he makes it necessary, but for now, he lives."

  I felt mixed emotions about letting Boris live. The man had shown us no mercy and I doubted sparing his life would change his feelings, provided he had any. I had killed in defense, but to set out with the intention of murdering someone twisted my insides with horror. If he were my father, I would show no mercy, if only to spare the world a madman. Boris was just a minion. We'd injured him so badly, he might not be back on his feet for a while, anyway.

  I looked at his more unfortunate companion whose brains still dribbled from his nostrils, and shuddered. Kanaan had executed him in an instant. How much stronger, then, was his teacher, Garkin?

 

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