The Emperor's Mask (Magebreakers Book 2)

by Ben S. Dobson

  “We’re still in early stages,” Tane said cautiously. Senator Audlian seemed a kind woman, and her house’s ambition for Faelir Audlian was common knowledge. But that didn’t clear her name. Eliminating the competition is as likely a motive as pro-magical fervor. “Just looking into leads.”

  “The wrong leads,” Deepweld said. “That’s what I was saying.”

  “If you have any insight, senator, I’m happy to be enlightened,” said Tane.

  “You’re here looking at us because of the wards. Obvious enough. Probably at me more than most. Non-magicals get killed, look at the one fighting for magical advancement. Well, I might think the restrictions on the Protector’s office are outdated, but I want to change them the right way. None of this sneaking around murdering people. No honor in that. And besides, my grandson Dernor hasn’t got a lick of magic himself. I want this killer found as much as anyone. But there’s not a person in the Senate who would sink so low, whether I agree with them on the floor or not. You’re wasting time here.”

  Some of that was surprisingly astute. Moreso than Tane had expected, given the man’s gruff demeanor so far. “We’re not focusing on anyone in particular yet,” he lied. “But you seem to have given this some thought. Where would you be looking, if not here?” The more he could get out of Deepweld—either to prove his guilt or to rule him out—the better.

  “You want someone who sneaks around in the shadows? Look at the protestors out there.” Deepweld gestured vaguely in the direction Tane had come from, although there were no outside windows here—any gap in the brass dome would be vulnerable to magical assault. “Those Silver Dawn fanatics.”

  That caught Tane’s attention. Kadka. He fought a sudden urge to march right out of the Citadel and find her. But he had no idea where she was, and she’d proven time and again that she could take care of herself. “Why do you say that?”

  “What do we know about them?” Deepweld said, spreading his hands. “They rise up out of nowhere, nobody knows who’s in charge, and then this starts happening? They’re behind it, I promise you.”

  Daalia chuckled. “A man of the people, as always. Don’t let Rulik’s paranoia lead you too far astray, Mister Carver.”

  But Tane couldn’t ignore the possibility. The Silver Dawn had Kadka, and if they were dangerous… “How do you think they would they have done it?” he asked. “Like you said, we have a list of people who could have bypassed the wards. The families didn’t share any staff. How would a member of the Silver Dawn have gotten in?”

  “You’re assuming it was one man,” said Deepweld. “Easy enough to have agents in both manors. Maybe a few. The lower classes eat up that Silver Dawn nonsense.”

  That was a fair point. The Mask’s voice had been magically distorted, and there hadn’t been any Astral residue on the murder weapon. Nothing to prove a single person had committed both murders. Something about it didn’t feel quite right, though—the taunting hints for him and Kadka had the feel of a personal vendetta. He needed more than speculation. “Do you have any—”

  A chime from below interrupted him, and Tane looked down over the railing to see a number of senators taking their seats. The Senate was being called to session. Flanked by two Mageblades, Lady Abena strode down the central aisle toward her seat at the front of the room. As if she could feel him watching, she glanced up at the gallery, and their eyes met. She quirked an eyebrow upward before moving on. Oh good. There’s no way Indree doesn’t hear about this. She’ll love what a low profile I’m keeping.

  “Time for you two to go,” Senator Audlian said to Endo and Deepweld. “I’ll keep Mister Carver company.”

  Endo swallowed nervously. “Wish me luck.”

  “You’ll do fine, Endo,” Tane said. Endo gave him an uncertain smile as he wheeled his chair around toward the door.

  Deepweld didn’t follow right away—he was still looking at Tane. “If you need more convincing, visit me at home this evening, after dinner. I’ll leave word at the gate.” He moved to follow Endo, but paused beside Tane’s shoulder. “And you watch those Silver Dawn types. Or you’ll wind up dead too.”

  _____

  Kadka saw movement to her left as soon as she turned the corner, and she drew her knife. A red-scaled kobold was advancing on her, just over five feet tall with a pair of small, useless wings, wearing nothing but a breechcloth. Kobolds weren’t much for clothes—they preferred to rely on their scales.

  She spun to one side, wrapped an arm around his neck, shoved her knife against his back. “Why do you sneak—”

  Before she finished, the kobold craned his head around and exhaled a lick of golden flame right into her face. Not much, but the surprise and the heat were enough to make her release him and stumble back.

  She’d heard that some kobolds could do that. A gift from their draconic ancestors, it was said. She grinned as she closed with him once more. “Should thank you. Dragon fire is something I always want to see.” If it came from dragon blood, even a small flame was impressive to Kadka’s mind.

  Suddenly, someone gripped her wrist from behind and twisted, digging strong fingers between the tendons at the base of her hand. Her grip failed, and her knife fell to the ground. Keen as her ears were, she hadn’t even heard the second attacker coming. She tried to wrench her hand free, and couldn’t. Whoever it was, they were stronger than her.

  Instead, she twirled into her attacker’s grip, wrapping her trapped arm around her body. She made a blade of her free hand, jabbed it stiff-fingered at the attacker’s throat. He leaned aside, grabbed that hand as well. And now she was looking right into his face, tangled up in his arms.

  An orc.

  Yellow-gold eyes glinted under a head of black fur-like hair, shaved on both sides to leave a shaggy crescent that curved from his forehead to the back of his neck. His nose was flat and broad, his lower jaw thick and jutting. The sharp tusks Kadka lacked protruded from his lower lip, and the fur on the backs of his arms was far thicker and fuller than hers. Not half-blooded like her, then, but a full orc, several inches taller and considerably more muscular than she was.

  “Peash, shishter,” he said. He had no trace of a Svernan accent, but Audish words weren’t designed for orcish mouths—his tusks gave him a kind of sloppy lisp that sounded out of place alongside his rough voice. “You’re in no danger from ush.”

  “Deshkanek,” she spat into his face. She tried to kick at his groin, but he’d anticipated that—he stood with his hips turned so she couldn’t get the angle. Most men, she could have pushed them off balance like that, but he was too heavy. He didn’t budge when she threw her weight against him. “Let me go!”

  He smiled, revealing a mouthful of sharp teeth. “That sheemsh ill-advished.”

  “You don’t have to fight us,” Gurtle said—she’d stayed out of the fight, but now she approached again. “This is just for security. We can’t bring you in armed.”

  “Should have asked, then,” Kadka growled. “This? Poskan trick.”

  “Can’t take any chances,” Gurtle said with a shrug. “Seskis, check her for weapons.”

  The red-scaled kobold nodded and moved in close. “Sorry about the fire,” he said, hissing his ‘s’ sounds slightly. “Or you’re welcome, I suppose. I respect your work, I really wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

  Kadka struggled as he patted her down, but she couldn’t free herself from the orc’s grasp. Her knives were removed, one by one—the one in her boot, the one strapped to her calf, the small blades up her sleeves. The longer one from her back that she’d dropped was retrieved as well, and Seskis tucked it with the rest into a small sack.

  “You’ll get them back after,” Gurtle said. “Vladak, bring her.”

  The orc didn’t hesitate, just started moving, dragging Kadka with him. She didn’t resist further—better to bide her time, wait for an opportunity.

  A few yards away, they stopped by a round brass plate set into the alley floor. Seskis and Gurtle lifted it from its mooring an
d slid it aside. Below, a hole opened into the space beneath the street, with a ladder just below the edge. Access to the sewers, Kadka assumed—she and Carver had used them on a previous case, to access the tunnel Tonke Dookle had been forced to dig below the Bank of Audland.

  Carver. He was going to be so smug when he heard about this. It was almost enough to make her consider staying with her kidnappers.

  Gurtle and Seskis went down the ladder first, and then Vladak lowered Kadka into the hole, supporting her while she found the rungs. “Don’t try to eshcape,” he said. “They’re waiting for you below, and I’m coming down right after.”

  Kadka said nothing, just slid quickly down the ladder.

  This was her chance. Vladak was stronger than her, but she could get by the others.

  At the bottom, she faked left and then spun right, slipping by Seskis along the side of the tunnel. He grabbed her arm, but she pulled free, and then she was running. There was no water—or worse—underfoot, she noticed. Not the sewers, but made of the same brick with metal support beams. She could hear, distantly, a deep, hollow whoosh of moving air. Something large moving at high speed. The discs, then. Subterranean platforms of ancryst propelled by magic that carried passengers quickly between city districts. They had to be near, which meant these were the maintenance tunnels that went wherever the discs did.

  Footfalls sounded from behind, some of them growing closer too quickly. That had to be Vladak. She was nearly around the next bend when a hand grabbed her shirt from behind and held tight. She jerked to a sudden halt, choking at the sudden constriction around her neck. In a moment, Vladak had her firmly by the arms again. She cursed his speed and strength under her breath—it brought back memories of her training in Sverna, overpowered and outmatched by full-blooded orcs.

  “I told you not to run,” he said, not unkindly. “You could get losht down here.”

  Gurtle caught up, panting. “The blindfold. Can’t let her try that again.”

  The kobold called Seskis produced a thick black length of cloth, stepped past the lanky goblin woman, and wrapped the blindfold around Kadka’s head. Her world went black.

  “What is this?” Kadka demanded. “Where do you take me? What can’t I see?”

  “Can’t risk you leading anyone back to where we’re going.” Gurtle’s voice, high and nasal. “Come on.”

  Vladak forced her into motion, and she couldn’t break his grip. They traveled for perhaps a quarter hour, twisting and turning beneath the streets of Thaless, but Kadka had a strong sense of direction—even blind, she thought she’d tracked the turns well enough, bearing west toward Rosepetal Park and the Gryphon’s Roost. When she escaped, she’d have to find her way back alone.

  At one point, they paused briefly, and she heard her captors moving something. Metal scraping on brick, like when they’d opened the hatch above. Vladak ducked her head below something and then they were moving once more. After about the same length of time again, she heard a door opening. They passed through, and came to a stop. This time, they didn’t resume their march. This was their destination, wherever it was.

  “Kadka of Clan Nadivek.” A rich, powerful voice that didn’t belong to any of her three kidnappers. “I’m very sorry that this is how we had to meet. My associates are very protective of me. Please, Vladak, let her go.”

  The heavy grip on Kadka’s arms abated. Immediately, she tore the blindfold from her eyes.

  She stood in a large, surprisingly comfortable-looking room. The walls were brick and metal—she was still in the tunnels—but this place had been made livable. Well-spaced magelight lamps lit the space in silver-blue. A cot sat in one corner, a desk in another, and a few pieces of worn but comfortable looking furniture circled a sitting area to one side. The place had been decorated with keepsakes and art pieces. Someone lived here.

  Probably the kobold standing in front of her.

  At more than six feet, he was taller than any of his kind she’d ever met, with scales of shimmering silver that she’d never seen before either. His slitted reptilian eyes were a sapphire blue so vibrant they almost seemed to give off their own light. Nothing covered his lean, muscular body but a leather breechcloth about his hips, and Kadka couldn’t help but appreciate his impressive chest and shoulders. Silver ridges ran from the top of his head to the tip of his tail, which was more than the stubby thing common to most kobolds—thick and tapered, it stretched long enough to reach the floor behind him.

  But most impressive of all were his wings.

  Kadka had seen kobolds like Seskis before, with wings as useless and vestigial as their short tails. These were something very different. Folded behind the man’s back, their central joints jutted a foot above his head and their tips reached midway down his calves. They flexed and flared as he moved, revealing shimmering silver membrane. He looked like he might take flight at any moment. Like the dragon blood his people boasted of might actually flow strong in his veins.

  “Who are you?” Kadka asked. It came out tamer than she’d meant it; she was more than a little bit distracted by his appearance. “Where is this?”

  “My name is Iskar Estiss,” the big kobold said in that deep, strong voice. “I am… a guiding hand behind the Silver Dawn. And this is a safe place. These tunnels were used during the digging of the main disc lines, but most of them have been long closed and forgotten. We have found them quite useful.”

  “Not so safe for me,” Kadka said. She glanced over her shoulder. Vladak, Seskis, and Gurtle had taken position behind her, blocking the door.

  “This may be hard to believe, but you are in no danger,” said Iskar. “I hope you will stay and hear me out, but if you wish, you may go.” He gestured with a clawed hand at the door and the three figures guarding it. “My friends will take you out of here. Without the blindfold, this time.”

  “Iskar, no,” Gurtle protested. “If she tells anyone, she could put you in danger.”

  “I have had to move before, and I will again,” Iskar said calmly. “But we are not in the business of taking our brothers and sisters hostage. The choice is yours, Kadka. Stay and listen, or go freely and in peace.”

  And Kadka found herself saying, “I will stay.” There was something about this man—the strength in his voice, the calm surety of his words. Despite everything, she wanted to trust him.

  And he wasn’t hard on the eyes, either. Kadka had always been fascinated by dragons, after all.

  Iskar’s reptilian snout opened in something like a smile, revealing sharp dragon-fangs. “I’m glad. I have great respect for you. I would like for us to be friends.”

  “Friends don’t cover eyes and take to secret rooms,” Kadka said, and then quirked an eyebrow suggestively. “Except maybe very good friends.”

  Iskar looked at her a moment, blinking, and then let out a deep, pleasant laugh. “And yet it hardly seems to have shaken you at all. You are an impressive woman, Kadka of Clan Nadivek.”

  It was very hard not to like this man, and not only because of the way he looked. “And you are very pretty, dragon-man. But maybe we flirt after you tell me why you want me here.”

  He laughed again. “You offer a compelling case for haste. Very well, let me explain. What do you know of the Silver Dawn?”

  “Why don’t you say what I should know?”

  “We believe that a new age is dawning. A time of cooperation and equality. The changes at the University were only the beginning. So much more can be done for the less fortunate in Audish society. The non-magical, races with no voice in the Senate. I believe you could serve as a great symbol for our movement. You and your partner are seen as champions of a sort to many people like us. Helping those who cannot find help elsewhere. As I said, many see the University’s new admission policy as the spark that lit the fire, and there are whispers that you had a hand in it.”

  “That was Carver, mostly,” Kadka said. “Why bring only me? Why not him?”

  “Mister Carver seems a fine man, but I believe yo
u feel our plight more keenly. He is human, and certain privileges come with that. But you will have experienced the scorn some have for… what they call the lesser races. And it will mean more to those who have experienced the same to see you standing for them.”

  Kadka had experienced the things he was talking about—the guards at the Citadel gates were still fresh in her mind. She raised an eyebrow. “You want me to fight for you?”

  Iskar shook his head vehemently. “No. That is the last thing I want. The Silver Dawn is a peaceful organization. This nation was founded on great ideals, and I believe it is past time they were realized, but to use violence would betray those same ideals. What I would have you do is stand beside us. Speak to those who will listen.”

  “Is not even my nation.” That was what she’d always told herself, the way she’d learned to let it go when people looked down at her. It was easier to shrug it off when it wasn’t her fight. “I am no citizen. No one will hear me.”

  “Yet you live and work within the same borders as we do,” Iskar said. “Does that not make these problems yours as much as mine? I think you would be surprised what your voice could mean.”

  That all seemed like a lot of responsibility to Kadka. “Why not you? Why hide here, if speaking is so useful?”

  Iskar shook his head. “As I said, I am a guiding hand, nothing more. My name is not known the way yours is, outside. It would mean little.”

  “How long do you live down here that no one knows? Not many kobolds look like you.”

  “It has been… quite some time,” Iskar admitted. “The Silver Dawn has existed in other forms, before this one. And there are those who would like very much for it to end—hence the secrecy. But I do not believe those people can stop what is happening now. Change is coming. Will you be part of it?”

  Kadka hesitated. Part of her wanted to say yes, if it could mean an end to the insults and scornful looks she’d learned to let bounce off her hide. But she had other commitments, and she’d only just met this man, however much she liked him. “Need to think,” she said.