“My ancestors’ blood runs strong in me,” said Iskar, but his eyes flicked downward. “I was glad to help, Mister Carver. But perhaps we can speak of this later.”
Tane had questions, but he let it pass. The man had saved them, and he was right: there were more important things at hand. “Right. No time to waste. Where are we exactly?”
“Edge of Stooketon, by Gryphon’s Roost,” Kadka said.
“We’re close, then.” Tane jabbed two fingers at Kadka and Indree. “You two need to get to the Audlian estate right away. The Mask usually strikes after most of the manor is asleep, and Endo doesn’t know we’re free—if he thinks he can afford to bide his time, we might still have a chance to stop him.”
“Endo?” Kadka cocked her head. “He is part of this?”
“It’s him, Kadka,” Tane said. “He’s the Mask. Or, he built the Mask. It’s a golem.”
Kadka’s eyes widened, but she accepted the revelation without argument. “Explains why it doesn’t stop your trail.” She pointed to the dark ink stain down the side of Tane’s trousers. “Only does what spells say to, yes?”
“Exactly,” said Tane. “And its instructions right now are to kill Faelir Audlian. Tonight. Endo sent it out near an hour ago.”
“I just sent to Durren for backup,” Indree said, a distant look in her eye. “Even he’s not stubborn enough to ignore us if I give him my memory of Endo confessing. But if we’re at the edge of the Roost, we’re closer to the Audlian estate than the Yard is.”
“Should move fast then,” said Kadka. “Have to do something with mages upstairs—they will wake soon.”
“The Silver Dawn can deal with them,” Iskar offered. “Our agents will secure this place until the constabulary can arrive. I’ll see it done. You three get where you need to go.”
“Wait.” Indree’s cheeks went red when she looked Tane in the eye; he felt his do the same. But she didn’t let the embarrassment stop her. “Us two. You didn’t say three. You said us two.”
Tane nodded. “It’s probably going to be a fight if you catch the Mask, and I’m useless against him. And they’ll never let Kadka in alone. You’re going to need your badge to get in. It has to be you two.”
“That’s not what I’m asking,” Indree said, and now there was a hint of concern in her voice. “Where are you going?”
Tane gathered his nerve; his fingers went to the brass watch case in his pocket. “Well,” he said, “somebody needs to have a talk with Endo.”
Chapter Twenty-three
_____
“SO WHAT IS plan?” Kadka asked as she and Indree hurried down the street toward the Audlian estate. It sat atop a hill at the end of Riverview Avenue, a massive manor looking down over the surrounding city, isolated by a tall iron fence. The protective detail that had swarmed the grounds in previous days had thinned to a pair of guards on the gate and a few patrols across the property, visible in the dark by the light of their lanterns.
Endo’s machinations had done their job. With Noana Uuthar and her son in custody, the Senate houses felt safe lowering their guard.
Indree spoke between breaths, easily matching Kadka’s quick pace. “Backup is on its way,” she said. “They’re already at the Stooke house, but we’re further from the Yard here, and we can’t afford to wait. We’ll go straight in. We might be able to evacuate the Audlians to protective custody before the Mask attacks. If not… We’ll hold him—it—off as best we can.” Her hand went to the empty holster where her pistol usually hung. She’d given it to Carver when they’d parted—it wouldn’t do any good against a golem—but Kadka recognized the nervous instinct.
“Won’t get past us,” Kadka said as confidently as she could. She didn’t bring up that the Mask had beaten her once already.
“I almost believe that, coming from you,” said Indree. “You seem to have a habit of improbable rescues. I’m glad you’re here.”
“You too. Seen you fight before.” Kadka grinned a forced grin, but just doing it made her feel a little bit better. “Your magic and my muscle, can’t lose.”
Indree didn’t look entirely convinced, but she nodded. “I just hope we’re not already too late.”
They were nearly at the gates now, and the guards stepped forward to meet them, two elven men in Audlian blue and gold. “What business do you have here?” one man asked.
Indree produced her badge. “Constable Inspector Indree Lovial. The Audlians are in danger. You’re going to tell Daalia Audlian we’re here, and then you’re going to let us through that gate.”
Neither guardsman was stupid enough to mistake the tone in her voice—Kadka admired the authority Indree could project when she needed to. “One moment, Inspector Lovial,” the elf who had spoken first said. “I’ll notify the family.”
Less than a minute later, they were through the gates, running up the hill toward the manor.
The guards at the door had already been notified to let Kadka and Indree in without delay. They passed through the doors and into a vast foyer with a stark marble floor and a pair of symmetrical curving stairways at the far end that led up to the second floor landing. It seemed a waste to Kadka, like most of the giant manor houses she’d seen the past few days. She lived in a cramped room in Porthaven that would have fit in this space four times over, and she’d grown up in Svernan longhouses where every inch had a purpose. This was just pointless emptiness to pass through.
Daalia Audlian waited inside, just before the stairs. Or at least, Kadka assumed it was Daalia Audlian—she’d never met the woman. An older elf with a simple robe wrapped around her body, she looked as if she’d just been going to bed, or perhaps just awoken. She wore no ornament or jewelry, and her long grey hair was unbound and unbrushed, but even so she had the dignified bearing of a powerful woman. An elven man stood beside her in a silken nightrobe, his blond hair rumpled and messy. He appeared far less collected than she did, and far more annoyed. Four guards stood with them, two on either side.
“What is the meaning of this?” the man beside Daalia demanded, rubbing bleary eyes. “Do you know what time it is?”
Daalia frowned at him. “You’re being rude, Saelis. Inspector Lovial was instrumental in bringing down Talain Nieris, and if I’m not mistaken this is Kadka of the Magebreakers. I’m inclined to trust that they wouldn’t trouble us without good reason.” She faced Indree and Kadka. “Forgive my cousin. He’s always grumpy when he wakes. I’m told you believe we’re in danger?”
“I know it for a fact, Senator,” said Indree. “I was taken captive by the Mask tonight, and he told me himself that he means to kill your nephew. We need to check on Faelir right now.”
“Taken captive by the… but the Mask was arrested! How could you—” Saelis Audlian was still sputtering when his cousin cut him off.
Daalia pointed at the pair of guards on her right. “You two, join the men on the front door. And tell the others we may have an intruder on the grounds. I want everyone on alert. The rest of you, come with me.” And then the head of House Audlian hiked her robe above her knees, turned, and sprinted for the main stairway. Straight to action. Kadka respected that.
They stopped at a door on the second floor. Daalia reached it first, and she was already calling her nephew’s name as she turned the handle. “Faelir!”
Kadka tensed, half-expecting to see the huge silhouette of the Mask standing over the bed, crowned spike in hand. She’d be ready for him this time, she hoped. Her hand slipped behind her back to grasp the hilt of her knife. Beside her, she heard Indree muttering magical words under her breath.
The door swung open. Light spilled into the darkened bedroom.
There was no one inside except a young elf man, sitting up in bed and blinking at the sudden brightness from the hall. “Aunt Daalia? What’s going on?”
Indree answered first. “We have reason to believe an attempt is going to be made on your life, Senator Audlian.” It seemed every one of these elves was a senator of some sort. “We n
eed to get you into protective custody at Stooketon Yard as soon as possible. Get dressed. Quickly.” She ushered everyone out of the room and closed the door—not all the way, just enough to give Faelir some privacy—then turned to Daalia. “I assume you have a coach of some sort? I’d suggest we get your family on it with an escort of guardsmen and get you away from here as quickly as possible. There are more constables coming, but we can meet them on the way. The Mask is going to come looking for Faelir here, and your wards won’t stop him. The sooner we’re off the grounds, the better.”
“Whatever you think necessary, Inspector Lovial,” said Daalia. Her eyes went unfocused for a moment. “I’ve sent for the carriage to be brought around, and called back the guards patrolling the grounds. That should be sufficient escort.”
Faelir stepped into the hall, still blinking against the light. He was a young man, at least by elf standards—he looked about Carver’s age, although Kadka knew he had to be in his sixth decade, if not older. He had fair hair like his father, and sharp, solemn features. And apparently, he was the first magicless elf born to a Senate house in more than a hundred years, although that seemed to Kadka a curious thing to care so much about. “Is someone going to explain this to me?” he asked.
“The Mask is coming,” said Indree. “If you want more details, you can have them on the way. Come on.”
They marched quickly back down the stairs and through the foyer—Kadka and Indree in the lead, the Audlians behind them, and two guardsmen at the rear.
Indree paused for a moment just before the big front doors, and turned to face the others. “Once we walk through these doors, we don’t stop until we reach Stooketon Yard. If you feel like slowing down, I suggest you remember that the Mask won’t. Any questions?”
There weren’t any.
“Good,” said Indree. “Kadka, take the lead. If we run into trouble, I’ll need space to get my spells off.”
Kadka pushed open the heavy double doors with both hands.
She was just in time to watch the last of the guards fall.
A hooded giant in a black robe stood over a half-dozen prone bodies, holding a crowned spike of solid bronze in one hand. A faceless brass mask turned toward the door, and silver-blue eye-slits found Faelir Audlian’s face.
The Mask advanced in utter silence.
Kadka’s knives were in her hand at once, but instead of attacking, she backed off a step and tried to recall everything Carver had told her about automatons—any weaknesses she might exploit. All she could come up with were strengths. It would implacably follow whatever instruction it had been given, so there was no intimidating it, no scaring it off. It was strong, and tireless, and lacked any vital organs for her knives to find. It was made of brass, which would dampen the effects of spells—the metal wasn’t strictly magic-proof, as far as she understood it, but no spell could pass through, which considerably dulled the impact of any attack Indree might make. It had artifacts that let it mimic spells of its own without even needing the words. She didn’t know what victory against this thing even looked like.
And it had already beaten her once.
Indree spoke several sharp, fast syllables in the language of magic, and silver-blue energy encircled the Mask, clasping massive arms to its sides. “Get them somewhere safe!” she shouted over her shoulder to the two guardsmen left behind.
Kadka heard retreating footsteps behind her, but she didn’t look back. There was no time left for hesitation. She couldn’t let Indree do this alone. With a running leap, she launched herself at the Mask.
The golem strained against Indree’s spell, and the silver energy stretched and thinned. It wouldn’t hold long. Knives weren’t going to do much, but strength could. Kadka grabbed the Mask’s arms in a bearhug just above waist level—as high as she could reach—and gripped tight, hoping to give Indree a chance to bolster her magic. As long as they kept it bound, they were buying the Audlians time to escape.
It worked, for a moment. The combined might of Indree’s spell and Kadka’s grip held the Mask’s arms in place at its sides, kept the artifacts in its hands from finding targets.
And then, in the corner of her eye, she saw a silver-blue flash.
The Mask discharged a torrent of silver force from its left hand, directly at the ground beneath their feet. The strength of it tore Kadka’s grip free, threw her up and away to land hard on the ground in front of the doors. The Mask hardly moved at all; its size and weight and brass construction absorbed the bulk of the impact.
Eyes still blurry and unfocused from the fall, Kadka pushed herself up on one arm, watched as the Mask shattered Indree’s spell with a powerful surge of its arms. The golem barrelled forward, crossing the distance in huge strides. Kadka rolled aside to avoid being trampled, and Indree spun out of the way at the last moment.
The Audlians and their guards were on the second floor landing now, at least, with a decent head start. Or so Kadka thought.
Until the Mask jumped.
It reached the center of the foyer, bent its knees, and sprang into the air. Glyphs on the bottoms of its feet flared, and the golem soared into the air, impossibly high, arcing toward the second floor balcony. It was only then that Kadka remembered Endo mentioning the apparently groundbreaking levitation spells he’d woven into his chair.
So now they were fighting an unstoppable golem who could all but fly.
The Mask landed lightly on the balcony, with almost no sound. The guards moved to block its advance, short swords drawn. It simply stowed its spike at its waist, grabbed one man in each hand, and lifted them off the ground as their blades rang harmlessly off brass. Neither of them went limp, though. The dazing artifacts that the golem had used to kidnap Carver and Indree apparently weren’t in play. That was something. Tane had said that the power drain on those was substantial—perhaps too much to sustain for a longer fight.
With almost casual ease, the Mask threw both men over its shoulders and off the edge of the landing. They struck marble with a sickening crunch.
From the first floor, Indree was chanting another spell, and as she finished a shield of translucent silver spanned the mouth of the hall at the top of the stairs, separating the golem from the Audlians. “Move, Kadka! It won’t hold long!”
Kadka pushed herself up and ran for the stairs, climbing them three at a time. The Mask pounded huge fists against the magical barrier again and again. She leapt onto its back and wrapped her arms around its neck just as the barrier shattered. Her weight made next to no difference. The golem drew its bronze spike once more and strode down the hall after the fleeing family, carrying Kadka like she was nothing.
She might as well have been, for all she was doing to slow this thing down. They weren’t going to be able to beat the Mask this way. Not with muscle, or force.
Which meant she needed to find another way. If there was a flaw in all magic, like Carver always said, she had to find it.
The blow missed by a sliver as Faelir jerked his head aside. The Mask didn’t strike again, instead reached back to ball its fist in Kadka’s shirt and tear her free. She grabbed at it, trying to find purchase, and gripped its black hood.
It wasn’t enough. The Mask hurled her against the wall, and she struck hard, knocking the breath from her lungs. But the hood tore away too, still clutched in her fist. Suddenly the golem’s head was exposed, a smooth brass oval with a single seam outlining a square hatch at the back.
A hatch like Endo’s crawlers, where the scrolls that governed their actions were held. The one she’d seen had gone inactive when those scrolls were removed. If she could just get the Mask to stay still long enough to jam one of her knives in that seam, she was sure she could pry it open.
From halfway down the hall, Indree uttered a spell and grabbed the Mask’s raised arm in a lariat of Astral force just before it stabbed down at Faelir Audlian’s head once more. Saelis grabbed his son by the arm, shoved Daalia ahead, and the three of them were running once more, heading for the far e
nd of the hall where another stairway led back down to the first floor. The Mask yanked against Indree’s restraint, breaking free to aim one last thrust at the back of Faelir’s head as he passed out of reach. It came close enough to stir the young elf’s hair, but didn’t quite find purchase.
Always the head. That was something else Carver had called out before. If it was a symbol for their lack of magic, the victims should have been stabbed through the heart, he’d said.
But what if it wasn’t a symbol? Maybe an automated assassin couldn’t judge for itself whether someone was dead or just unconscious. Maybe its instructions needed to be specific enough to make certain. The heart was unreliable, easily missed, but a spike through the brain…
The Mask pursued its fleeing victim down the hall. Indree caught up with Kadka, pulled her to her feet. “Are you hurt?”
Kadka ignored the question. “You see how Mask always goes for head? Sees spike there, maybe it knows victim is dead. Job is done.”
“You have an idea? I’d be glad for one of those right now.” Indree started after the Mask once more.
Kadka ran alongside her, pointed with her knife toward the back of the Mask’s head as they chased it down the hall. “See seam there? Need to get that open to stop it. Just need distraction.”
Understanding came to Indree’s eyes, and she nodded emphatically. “I can make that happen. Be ready.” She spoke the words of a spell, and a silver-blue cord wrapped around the golem’s waist, slowing it down. The Audlians made the stairs at the end of the hall, moved quickly out of sight as they descended. Indree shouted after them. “Find some place to hide!”
The Emperor's Mask (Magebreakers Book 2) Page 19
