Magefall Read online

  The rogue mages received no warning. They were simply eliminated by the Bane. A mage, sanctioned by the Grey Council, to hunt down and execute magic users using their powers for profit. Garvey had been chosen and shaped into a weapon, designed to hunt and kill other mages. When the war began, Garvey had been pursuing a destructive mage and had ignored King Mathias’s call.

  Garvey was the last in a long line of people to hold the title of Bane. When they’d formed the new Grey Council it was not something they’d reinstated, despite Garvey’s insistence that it was necessary.

  “Killing all those people as the Bane left a mark on him,” said Balfruss. “He may not even have noticed he was being affected, but over time it changed him. It must have. Perhaps he acquired a taste for killing.”

  “I don’t believe it,” protested Eloise.

  “Then how do you explain what’s happened?”

  “I can’t,” she said and Balfruss felt her fingers tighten against his. “Whatever he’s become, Garvey has always been a clever man. There must be a reason, but whatever that is no longer matters. He’s out of control and must be stopped.”

  “I must go after him,” said Balfruss, tasting bile in his mouth. He’d been putting it off, giving Tammy excuses that held no water. Another reason for hoping Eloise would soon return was that he didn’t want to go after his friend alone. He was afraid, not of dying, or being defeated, but finding out that his friend killed people because he enjoyed it.

  “Will you be able to stop him?” asked Eloise.

  “I don’t know. If he’s alone, then perhaps, but he has more than a dozen students with him. I need to find a way to separate him.” A deep sorrow settled over Balfruss and he felt overwhelmed by what lay ahead. “There are only a handful of people I can truly call my friend. And now, Elwei forgive me, I must hunt down and kill one of the few that remain.”

  CHAPTER 19

  It was late, again, and Tammy was still at work in her office. There didn’t seem to be any other kind of night at the moment.

  In cutting herself off from all familial connections she realised that the benefits for them were twofold. It protected them from reprisals if criminals sought to get back at her as Khevassar, but it also meant she had no one to let down. If she’d had a family, or someone waiting for her at home, the guilt of never being there would only mount day after day. The excuses about the work being important would soon wear thin, as would their patience. Then she’d end up alone anyway but more heartbroken and distraught than before. It was simpler this way. Easier. At least that’s what she told herself as she struggled to focus on yet another report.

  Tammy was trying not to think about her family or Kovac and what they were doing.

  She pushed her chair back from her desk and took a break, resting the back of her head on the wall. The report in front of her was about another body in the morgue. Another possible murder that needed her attention. This time it was the Dockmaster who had died in what seemed like slightly suspicious circumstances. No one outside the city of Perizzi would ever have heard of him, or considered him an important figure. But as the most senior person in charge of the busiest port in the world, everyone here knew his name.

  He could destroy businesses if he wanted, holding cargo indefinitely at the docks for any number of plausible and legal reasons. It was why the person holding the position was closely vetted and all of his dealings were scrutinised, without him knowing of course, to make sure he was beyond reproach. As such his death also needed to be thoroughly checked to make sure foul play wasn’t involved.

  One of the Dockmaster’s few vices was drinking. He never drank to excess but was known to enjoy expensive brandy from around the world. All gifts he received were declared and put up for auction, but he usually ended up buying the best of them with his own money. After all, who would bid against the Dockmaster on his favourite drink? The initial report from the doctor indicated he’d died from excess over many years, but when Tammy had seen him last week, bellowing at a ship’s captain, he’d seemed in fairly good health. It was possible that he’d had a sudden and rapid decline in his health, but she needed to be sure.

  She rubbed at her eyes and made a note of a couple of names she could assign to the case.

  There was a polite knock and Guardian Fray stuck his head around the door. “I’m ready. Let me know when you have time.”

  “Now,” said Tammy, standing up. Her reports would still be there waiting for her when she got back. She collected the items they would need and picked up her master set of keys for the building. “If we don’t go right now, something else will distract me.”

  “I need somewhere quiet where we won’t be disturbed.”

  “Follow me,” said Tammy. “I have the perfect place in mind.”

  One of the many things she’d discovered since taking over the Old Man’s position was the secret history of Unity Hall. The one known only to the Khevassar. No other Guardian of the Peace had access to the same information as her. It was not recorded in any of the modern journals and, despite attempts at preservation, the oldest had long turned to dust. The story was one that had been passed on verbally from one Khevassar to the next, down through the centuries.

  Most Guardians rightly assumed their organisation had been founded with the earliest settlement in Yerskania for the express purpose of investigating crimes. But there had also been a second purpose that no one knew about. Guarding the peace against other forces. Especially those who used their powers to help themselves while hurting or killing others. Tammy would have thought that the Old Man had finally lost his mind if not for all that she’d seen in the last decade. Magic forces and beings beyond the understanding of most people.

  “Tell no one about this,” she said, stopping outside a plain wooden door. “I must ask you to swear a blood oath.”

  Fray swallowed hard, suddenly understanding the seriousness of what she was sharing with him. To his credit he didn’t run and quickly swore to keep the secret. Tammy unlocked the door, gestured for him to enter the cramped archive and locked it again behind her. The room was identical to many others, stacked floor to ceiling with shelves containing hundreds of journals. Two small writing tables sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by half a dozen unlit lanterns. Scribes were permanently employed to copy fading, damaged or old journals from previous Khevassars, so that one continuous history of the city was maintained for all time.

  At this time of night the scribes were in their beds and the archive was deserted. Tammy lit one of the lanterns and then moved to the back of the room. Taking a small, thick key from her pocket she removed a few journals from the top shelf and slid the wooden panel behind them to one side. The keyhole was small and not easy to see but when she turned the key in the lock there was an audible click.

  “Help me with this,” she said. Together she and Fray pushed the bookcase into the wall and then to one side, revealing a tall but narrow corridor. Tammy was forced to walk sideways until it opened out onto a set of tight spiral stairs that wound down into the darkness.

  They descended into the earth and Tammy lost track of time. She lost count at five hundred steps and they still had a little way to go. This went far below the black cells to another part of Unity Hall that had not been used for centuries.

  Finally, the stairs ended at a short corridor that housed seven cells. Six were plain identical rooms but she led Fray to the larger seventh cell at the end of the hall. The Old Man had brought her down here once and that had been more than enough. She’d only peered into the other cells but he’d insisted she set foot in this one.

  From his expression she could see Fray was desperate to ask a question but he kept his mouth shut. She walked into the final room without any difficulty but he paused on the threshold and raised one hand.

  “There’s something here,” he said, sounding puzzled. “It’s like the air is made of honey. It’s thick and heavy.”

  Tammy said nothing and watched as Fray tentatively
stepped into the room. Nothing happened but she could see he was struggling to cope with whatever he could sense. She left him to adjust as she moved around the eight-sided cell, lighting the torches until the whole space was full of warm yellow light.

  “What is this place?” he finally asked.

  “A long time ago it was used to house difficult prisoners. Those with abilities,” she said as Fray gently touched two fingers to the wall. He yanked his hand back as if burned but there wasn’t a mark on his fingertips. “Take another look,” she said, gesturing at the walls.

  More cautiously this time, Fray moved closer to one of the walls until his face was almost touching it. Normally he hunched his shoulders slightly, but now they were almost touching his ears as if braced against a strong wind. She watched as his green eyes changed colour, first to a pale lemon and then turning darker, becoming a rich amber. Fray let out a startled bark and stumbled back until she caught him, keeping him upright.

  “By the Maker,” he hissed through clenched teeth. Tammy could feel his whole body was rigid with tension.

  “Tell me what you see.”

  “The walls. Even the ceiling and the floor. They’re all covered with symbols. I think they’re letters, but I don’t recognise the language.” Fray’s voice was a mix of awe and surprise. “There are so many, overlapping each other. There are layers and layers.”

  The Old Man’s theory was right. This cell was designed to contain any number of powerful creatures, including those with magic. She’d seen first-hand how dangerous magic could be in the wrong hands. A long time ago, at the beginning of the Guardians, several mages had worked in concert to create this cell to house the worst of the worst.

  Tammy could have simply taken Fray to a quiet storage room and locked the door while they worked to raise the spirit of Guardian Brook. She had the authority to ensure they weren’t disturbed. Bringing him down here was a lot further out of the way, but she’d needed to know if the ancient magic was still active. It could prove to be incredibly useful in the days ahead with rogue mages on the loose.

  “Will it stop you from working?” she asked, shaking Fray gently by the shoulders.

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Let’s find out,” she said, opening the bag of personal belongings she’d had someone gather from Guardian Brook’s home. One by one she passed the items to Fray who held each one carefully as if it were fragile. When he touched an old patchwork blanket he stopped and tapped the wool with his fingers.

  “This one. There’s a strong connection.”

  She set the other items aside and sat down beside him at the centre of the room. Fray bowed his head slightly and let out a long, slow breath. His lips were moving but he didn’t speak and he made a small beckoning gesture with both hands.

  After a few minutes in silence he sat back and shook his head. “I can’t feel anything. It’s like there’s a huge wall that’s blocking me.”

  Tammy was pleased but did her best not to show it. The magic was still intact.

  “Let’s try one of the other cells,” she suggested, leading him to one of the plainer rooms. She lit the torches and Fray tried again, bowing his head over the blanket.

  After only a few seconds the air in front of him flickered and a spectral figure began to appear. At first the person’s features were fuzzy, as if hidden behind a thick fog, but they quickly sharpened until Tammy recognised Guardian Brook.

  Fray opened his amber eyes and stared at the shade. His expression turned incredulous when he noticed she was staring at Brook. “You can see her?”

  “Of course. Why?” asked Tammy.

  “That’s never happened before,” he said, briefly glancing around the plain room. There was nothing unusual about this cell, but perhaps it was caused by their proximity to the special octagonal cell.

  “Ask a question. See if she can hear you,” suggested Fray.

  Tammy faced the spirit. “Guardian Brook, can you hear me?”

  “I hear you,” said Brook. Her voice echoed slightly, as if she were speaking to them from another room. “Why am I here?”

  “To help me. I need to understand more about Akosh. Is she your patron?”

  Brook’s natural expression was wary but at the mention of her patron it softened. “She’s much more than that. She found me when I was small child living on the streets, abandoned and starving. I was given a home, schooling and a safe place to grow up. Many of those I knew from that time were not as fortunate. Many of them died and others became criminals.”

  She spoke with such reverence that Tammy knew it would be pointless to try and change her mind about Akosh. Brook had killed herself rather than be questioned about her Mother and risk betraying her. Brook believed she owed everything in her life, and all that she had accomplished, to Akosh. Apparently none of it was due to her ambition or drive. Anything good in her life came from on high. She’d come across other people with similar faith in the past, but none of them claimed to have met their god. Brook’s faith would be like a block of granite.

  “Did the people at the orphanage teach you about her?” asked Tammy, holding up a copy of the text she’d found at Brook’s home. The symbol on the front of the small book was that of a woman caring for a small child. The spirit recognised the stylised image and smiled.

  “Not at first, but most of what they taught us was common sense. To care for others and help those less fortunate, just like us. It was only later they told us everything came from the book.”

  “Is that why you became a Guardian? To help people?”

  “Of course,” said Brook. “Who are you?”

  “Someone seeking answers and a new path,” said Tammy, trying to appeal to her religious zeal.

  “You seem familiar,” said Brook, her face scrunching up in concentration. Fray had told her that the spirits he summoned were incomplete pieces of the person they’d been in life. This was merely a shadow. “I think I know you.”

  “Can I join your faith?” asked Tammy and the spirit’s smile returned. “Learn more about it?”

  “All are welcome, but few come to us as adults.”

  “So it’s usually orphans,” clarified Tammy. “You’re saved at an early age.”

  “Many on the streets were not as fortunate as me,” said Brook, repeating herself. It seemed as if they found the limit to what the spirit could remember from her old life. She’d seen Brook once or twice in Unity Hall but they’d never worked together. Even so, if her mind had been intact Tammy was confident Brook would remember her as she tended to stand out in a crowd.

  “The war created so many children without parents, and orphanages are expensive to run,” mused Tammy, talking fast to keep her off balance.

  “Faith provides,” she said and Tammy felt a nerve twitch in her jaw. It was the same horseshit they’d tried to feed her as a child. Her sister Mary had bought into it, but such blind obedience had never made sense to her.

  “But it doesn’t. You provide. You and the other orphans donate money.”

  “As I said, faith,” insisted Brook. “Giving some money back is the least we could do for all that we received. Why are you asking about this? Where am I?” Despite being a semi-transparent version of herself, the former Guardian was still quite alert. She started looking around the room and then down at herself with a puzzled expression.

  “Hurry up,” muttered Fray. “She’s slipping.”

  “How often do you go back to the orphanage?” asked Tammy.

  Brook was growing irate and the image of her flickered and then resettled like a candle in a breeze. “I don’t visit the orphanage, but what does it matter?”

  “Then how do they receive your donations?”

  “I’m not going to answer any more questions until you tell me who you are,” declared Brook.

  “We’re done here,” said Tammy, talking to Fray. Brook started to say something else, but the words were lost as she faded from view. His eyes flickered and then quickly changed back
to their natural colour.

  She should have thought of this sooner but had been so busy with a hundred other jobs. Some of her people were watching all the orphanages in Perizzi in case Akosh made an appearance. Perhaps they’d been looking for the wrong person. There was a report on her desk that listed all visitors coming to each of the orphanages. All she had to do was look for any names that appeared on all the lists. If there wasn’t a match then she’d have all members of staff followed when they left the buildings to find the common element. Either way one of them would lead her to the money spider sitting at the heart of the web, parcelling out donations from former orphans. Once she found the money spider she could get access to the list of donors. Then she’d have a clearer picture of who she could trust in the city and if any more of her Guardians were followers of Akosh. It seemed unlikely that Brook was the only one.

  “Tell no one about what you’ve seen or this place,” said Tammy. “It’s part of a highly sensitive investigation.”

  “On one condition,” asked Fray, doing his best to meet her gaze.

  She stared down at him coolly for a long moment before slowly raising an eyebrow. “Which is?”

  “I want to come back here and study that room.”

  “Fine,” said Tammy, turning away to hide her smile. She’d hoped he would be intrigued by the cell and make this request of her. It was another reason she’d brought him down here. The more she learned about it the better.

  “What are you going to do now?” asked Fray as they started back up the winding stairs.

  “Follow the money,” said Tammy.