The Artful Apprentice

by Christopher Nuttall

  The duke drew his sword with terrifying speed and sliced through the queen’s neck. Her body dropped to the ground and landed in a heap. Her head flew through the air and fell into the crevice. The duke let out an odd little sound — half-gasp, half-laugh — as the head vanished into the darkness. He almost sounded as if he’d expected something to happen. Emily stared in shock. She hadn’t expected him to kill the queen so casually.

  “You...” Willis was trying to speak. “You...”

  “It takes royal blood,” the duke said, more to himself than anyone else. “Of course...”

  Emily gathered herself. The guards didn’t matter. Their armor was good, but it wouldn’t protect them. She could stop them without breaking the armor itself. But the duke... as long as he had the sword, he was a real problem. She assessed her options... if nothing else, she could shove the duke into the crevice herself. She didn’t think a blademaster could levitate, let alone fly. The weight of his armor would send him plunging.

  “You killed her,” Elena said. “You...”

  “Quiet, princess,” the duke said. “Your destiny awaits.”

  Emily sensed a surge of magic, right next to her. For a terrible moment, she thought the duke’s pet sorcerer had sneaked up on her. He had to be good if he’d managed to slip through a king’s wards and kill him, but... the duke stepped back, his eyes widening. Elena was glowing with light and power...

  She’s coming into her magic, Emily thought. The guards were stumbling back. They knew they needed cover. And I’ll never have a better chance.

  Elena’s power exploded. A wave of magic washed across the chamber. Emily felt dizzy as she felt the princess’s power react with the wild magic. The duke jumped back, his protections flaring to life. Willis hit the ground as a shockwave flashed over his head. Emily braced herself, then tore her hands free. The duke would know she’d tricked the potion somehow. She hadn’t been blasted across the chamber by Elena’s power...

  “You...”

  “Me,” Emily said. Her power bubbled around her. She levitated the neared rock and held it in the air. “Let’s see how badly the demon screwed you, shall we?”

  And she launched the rock at him as hard as she could.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  THE DUKE LIFTED HIS SWORD. HIS protections grew stronger. The rock slammed into his blade, shattering into tiny pieces. Emily scooped up another rock and threw it at him, then cast a series of spells at the guards. They tumbled to the ground, helpless and still. She scooped up a sword from one of them and held it up, silently challenging the duke. He’d think — she hoped — she was challenging him to a contest she could only lose. If she was lucky, it would keep him from thinking about what else she might be doing.

  “Get Elena out of here,” Emily shouted at Willis. She didn’t dare risk unleashing her full power as long as there were innocents within the chamber. “Hurry!”

  Willis stared at her. “Lady Emily...”

  “Go,” Emily shouted. “Now!”

  The duke’s sword crashed against hers. There was nothing elegant in the blow, nothing to make the crowd go wild in admiration. It was pure brute force, a blade propelled by nothing more than muscle and raw anger. She saw the duke’s eyes bulging with hate as she blocked his blow, barely. The force of the impact almost tore the blade from her fingers. It had been too long since she’d crossed swords in anger.

  She drew on her magic, strengthening the blade. She couldn’t make herself a blademaster, she certainly couldn’t give herself his instinctive understanding of how to use his weak magic to best advantage, but she could do something. Magic flashed as the duke’s blade crashed against hers, his feet pounding on the chamber floor as he pushed against her defenses. She smiled, then summoned a pair of fireballs and hurled them at him. They splashed uselessly against his defenses, as she’d expected, but they made him wince. His eyes flashed murder as she feinted, then tried to stab through his armor. He blocked her with effortless ease.

  Watch for the knife in his sleeve, Emily reminded herself. Sergeant Harkin had taught her that trick, pointing out that ‘honor’ was meaningless when life or death was at stake. It was hard to be sure, but it looked like the duke was trying to maneuver her into a position that would allow him to stab her with a hidden blade. Don’t let him get too close.

  She saw Willis, kneeling by Elena. The prince was looking down at his sister, a tender expression on his face. It would have been heart-warming if it hadn’t been so dangerous. The duke wanted them for something, but what? She wanted them to run... she cursed inwardly as the duke slammed his sword into hers again. They couldn’t run, not with the mountain swarming with the duke’s men. They’d just be recaptured the moment they headed down the steps.

  And the duke wanted them for something, Emily thought. A shiver ran down her spine. There was no disputing Willis’s claim to the throne. The duke couldn’t leave him alive, not any longer. Elena could be neutralized. She could be married off or locked up or simply ignored, on the grounds a woman couldn’t take the throne. Willis was a different story. He won’t last a day if the duke keeps power.

  She forced herself to concentrate as she blocked another blow, splitting her attention between defending herself and trying to crack the duke’s defenses. They were strange, as if the duke hadn’t been quite sure what he was doing when he’d put them together. Blademasters were just like magicians who became addicted to wands or staffs, if she recalled correctly. They traded flexibility for ease. And it worked in their favor, she thought, because they rarely had enough magic to be worth training. The duke didn’t need to be subtle. He just needed to put his sword through her chest.

  His defenses spun in her mind’s eye. She probed the edges of his power, feeling the odd twinges of magic from his dragonskin armor. That would be a problem, even if she managed to crack his defenses herself. The duke clearly wasn’t one for taking chances... she wondered, sourly, if he’d had doubts about the prophecy well before they’d met for the first time. Or... there were fates worse than death. He might not be defeated if someone turned him into a slug permanently, but it would certainly put him out of action. Her lips twitched at the thought.

  The duke lunged, again. Emily darted back, grateful Void had taught her how to do several things at once. She bumped into a statue and took advantage of the movement to use magic to tear it out of the ground and throw it at the duke. He staggered back, almost tottering over the edge and falling to his death before he caught himself. She cursed — she hadn’t been able to apply enough force to do real damage — then ran forward. The duke raised his sword to block her. His face twisted with hate.

  A shaft of moonlight shone down from high above. Emily glanced up, realizing — for the first time — that the chamber was open to the air. The wild magic seemed to grow stronger, as if it were being focused and channeled... she thought she sensed the duke’s magic flicker in response, almost as if it didn’t belong in the chamber. Her hair tried to stand on end as the magic pulsed through the stone. She would have loved to study it, but she didn’t have time. The duke was pushing her back again.

  “You can stop this,” she said, although she doubted it was true. “You could just walk away.”

  The duke growled, looking past her. “Boy, stay where you are,” he ordered. “Or I’ll cripple you.”

  Emily had had enough. She pushed forward, slamming her blade into his. How dare he? He’d killed his brother, he’d killed the arbiter, he’d killed his sister-in-law... God alone knew what he intended to do with the rest of the children. Prince Robert was four! If his uncle won the day, the little prince wouldn’t live to see his next birthday. She shaped a spell carefully, trying to tune it to crack the duke’s defenses. If nothing else, it would give him a fright. It might just distract him long enough for her to put a sword through his heart.

  “I told you to stay there,” the duke snapped. “I mean it!”

  Emily darted back. Willis knelt beside his sister, watching the fight
with wide eyes. He was strong enough to carry Elena, but where could they go? Elena might not recover for hours, perhaps even days. Emily hadn’t gone through an awakening herself, but she knew how they worked. The surge of raw magic would have drained the princess to the bone.

  “Tell me,” she said, hoping to keep the duke focused on her for a moment longer. “How do you plan to get away with this?”

  “I am the king,” the duke insisted.

  “By killing your brother, and your sister-in-law,” Emily said. “How do you plan to get away with this?”

  “I didn’t kill my brother,” the duke insisted. “And I...”

  His voice hardened. “I’ll have the beast behind me, Lady Emily. I’ll put fear into the hearts of everyone who stands in my way. I’ll burn them to ash before I surrender one inch of my family’s power. I shall see them all burn!”

  Emily winced, inwardly. The duke was known for being conservative. He wouldn’t approve of the New Learning, let alone the revolutionary suggestion that the people should have a hand in their own government. She could imagine him destroying parliament, plunging his country into chaos. He’d put the clock back hundreds of years. Who’d vote and collect taxes without parliament? The entire edifice would crumble and come apart at the seams.

  “You can still stop this,” she said, as she readied the spell. “Really.”

  The duke made an incoherent sound and threw himself at her, his flashing sword raining blow after blow against her defenses. She felt her fingers start to ache as she blocked him time and time again, knowing it was just a matter of time before she let a blow through. He had heavy armor. She had nothing beyond a dress. Her protections might not stand up to his blade and... no, they wouldn’t stand up to his blade. She took the final step and cast the spell. Blue lightning flared around him. His armor glowed with deadly light.

  She didn’t hesitate. She darted forward, slashing out at his sword arm. The duke didn’t have time to block her. Instead, he jumped back. Her sword brushed against his as he moved, the lightning following him as it tried to burn through his defenses. Green light flickered and flared around his armor. She cursed and forced herself to take another swing at him as the spell started to fade. His protections were weakening...

  The duke slammed forward blindly, crashing into her. His weight hurled her to the ground, his body landing on top of her. She gasped in pain. She thought she felt a rib or two break. The duke let out a sound of triumph as he drew back his fist to pound her into the dirt. He’d only need a single solid blow to take her out, once and for all. Emily didn’t hesitate. She reached out, taking advantage of his proximity to twist his protections against him and then detonate a force punch right next to his chest. The blast picked him up and hurled him into the overhang. Emily rolled over as pieces of debris fell to the ground. The duke twisted, somehow, as he followed them down and landed on his feet. His armor was blackened and broken, but intact.

  He laughed, humorlessly. “And you thought you could beat me, because you’re a woman?”

  Emily pulled herself to her feet. Her body hurt — she suspected she really had broken a rib or two — but she could move. The duke had taken the brunt of the punch. She smiled — she’d practiced the trick time and time again until she’d gotten it to work — then frowned as he saw the duke eying Elena. He looked as if he saw her as nothing more than a piece of meat, something he could use...

  She shivered, but forced herself to keep her voice steady. “It isn’t over yet.”

  The duke stepped forward, gingerly. She guessed he was more banged up than he wanted to admit. His legs hadn’t snapped like twigs when he’d come down hard, but — no matter how tough he was — that had to hurt. She guessed his battered armor hadn’t done much for him either. His ribcage might not be in any better state than hers. She drew on her magic, healing herself as much as possible. The duke had managed to keep hold of his sword. And hers... was somewhere else.

  “It is over,” the duke said. His voice was calm. “Sit down, Lady Emily, and let me finish in peace. You can go back to your father afterwards.”

  “No.” Emily knew she couldn’t abandon the children now. She really hadn’t liked the way he’d looked at Elena. He had bad intentions. Emily’s imagination provided too many possibilities, each worse than the last. The duke could marry the princess to secure his grip on the throne... she felt sick at the thought. “I’m not going to stand aside.”

  The duke managed to look regretful. “I’m very sorry to hear that,” he said. “I’ll see to it your body is delivered safely home.”

  He lunged forward. Emily cast a light spell, aiming the flash of light directly into his face. It wasn’t strong enough to blind him, but it distracted him long enough to let her get out of the way. Her magic reached out, scooping up rocks and animating statues and sending them at the duke. His sword crashed through them, the mere touch of the blade enough to destroy her spells and cut through the stone. She wondered, suddenly, what would happen if he dropped the blade on the ground? Would it plunge into the earth and be lost forever? Or...

  She darted from side to side, casting a series of illusions as she threw more rocks at him. His protections were weakened, yet... she gritted her teeth. As long as he held onto the sword, his protections wouldn’t fail completely. He wasn’t spending power like water, trying to keep his defenses intact. He’d already established them. She pushed forward, slamming hexes into his sword as she tried to probe his protections. If she could just weaken them enough, she could kill him.

  The wild magic danced around them as the duke lunged forward, driving his sword through one of the illusions. It popped like a soap bubble. Emily smiled at the rage on his face, even though she knew it boded ill for the royal children. If the duke had exchanged blows with his brother, would he have any qualms about hitting his nephew or his niece?

  “Over here,” she called. She cast another illusion, then cloaked herself with an invisibility spell. The duke came at her, sword flashing in the moonlight. She sensed tendrils of power pouring downwards as he slashed through the illusion. “Or maybe over here...”

  The duke slowed, then halted. Power bubbled around him. Her eyes narrowed, wondering if she’d underestimated him. Could he be a weaponmaster, instead of a blademaster? Or... could he have been skilled enough to pretend to be a blademaster? She didn’t think it was possible, but... six years ago, she would have said magic itself was impossible. Her power flickered as she cast a handful of additional illusions. If she could get the children out, she could bring the overhang down. It would crush his armor and hopefully crush him... it would put an end to the fight. But there was so much wild magic flowing through the air that she feared what it might do. Her spells were already starting to react to the charge.

  She held back as he held his sword in the air. Willis had dragged Elena into the corner... Emily wanted to scream. He could have carried his sister into the next room while Emily kept the duke busy. She could think of a dozen ways to make him do it, but... the duke might notice and stop him. The moonlight seemed to be growing brighter. An eerie luminescence spread through the chamber. It was steadily turning night into day.

  The duke was mumbling. It didn’t sound like a spell, and she couldn’t make out the words, but prickles ran down her spine. It sounded like a very old chant, like something she’d heard back in Old Whitehall. Flickers of magic darted through the air, dancing at the corner of her eyes. She had the oddest sense of a mighty engine slowly coming to life. She tried to reach out with her senses, but couldn’t pin down the feeling. It was just... there.

  He wanted to do something here, she thought. It didn’t look like he’d planned anything she’d recognize as a coronation. There were no dignitaries, no witnesses... just the duke, his guards and his hostages. She realized, suddenly, that no one had come to investigate the noise. A chill through her body. They might have strict orders to stay well away, whatever they saw or heard. What does he want to do?

  The duke
turned suddenly, pacing towards the children. Willis shrank back, but somehow managed to put himself between the duke and his sister. The duke snorted, picked Willis up effortlessly and shoved him to one side. Emily ran forward, dropping the illusion as she knew — with a sudden sickening certainty — what the duke intended to do. He’d mentioned royal blood. He intended to sacrifice his niece to... to what?

  He spun with terrifying speed as Emily’s magic sliced into his defenses. His sword came up; Emily shaped a single spell, then aimed it at his arm. The duke howled as the magic burned through his wrist, sending the sword falling to the ground. His other hand lashed out, catching Emily by the neck. She felt his grip tighten, felt her vision starting to blur...

  ... And then the duke toppled to the ground.

  Emily staggered back, one hand rubbing her neck. A dagger was buried in the duke’s back, a dagger... Willis was staring at the dying man, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d done. Emily had to choke down a giggle. The duke had sworn no man could kill him... but his nephew was not yet a man. She suspected the demon who’d given him the prophecy was laughing now, if he hadn’t been laughing the moment he’d looked into the duke’s future. He really hadn’t been killed by a man.

  A rumble ran through the ground. The duke coughed, then laughed.

  “Royal blood,” he said. He sounded as if he was choking on his own blood. The dagger was cursed. Emily could see the dark magic working its way through the duke’s body. There was nothing she could do, even if she wanted to. “Royal blood. Who would have thought it?”

  Emily glanced up as the ground shook again. She could see a faint reddish glow, growing brighter and brighter with every passing second. It was coming from the crevice...

  She glared at the duke. “What have you done?”

  “The beast is coming,” the duke said. Something crashed in the distance, the sound echoing through the air. The wild magic was pulsing with life. She felt as if she were standing in the heart of a thunderstorm. “You started the ritual, but you can’t finish it...”