Chaosmage Page 17

  The boy thought about it for a while and his shoulders slumped. “I’m Willem,” he said eventually.

  “Balfruss.”

  “What about flying? Is that possible?”

  “Sort of,” explained Balfruss. “It’s possible to bond with an animal and share in its experiences. So, if you bonded with a bird, you could fly in a way.”

  Willem stared up at the sky, probably imagining what it would be like to soar through the grey clouds overhead. The air was cool and Balfruss could see his breath in front of his face. There would be a frost in the morning.

  “Why didn’t it work?” said Willem, gesturing towards Balfruss with one hand. “My attack.”

  Balfruss sat down on a pile of rubble not far away from Willem and got comfortable before speaking. The cold of the stone started to seep into his backside. He wouldn’t be able to sit here for long without it going numb.

  “Because I’m a Sorcerer.”

  “A what?”

  Balfruss took a deep breath and tried to remember that Willem was very young. He also knew the boy had no interest in a history lesson or an explanation that took too long.

  “A long time ago, people who wielded magic were called Sorcerers. People forgot what that meant and what was possible with magic. Battlemages are living weapons, trained only to fight. Sorcerers can do so much more. Sorcerer is not just a word. It means to have a deeper understanding of the Source.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Willem, which made Balfruss smile. He’d said the same thing many times to his teachers.

  “Let’s just say Sorcerers have knowledge of Talents not seen for decades or even longer.”

  “Like skinwalking,” said Willem, trying to be helpful. “The Master teaches that to a few and if they survive they become Flesh Mages.”

  “Do you know where he sends them once they’re trained?”

  “I won’t betray the Master,” said Willem, getting to his feet and threatening to bolt. Despite being sent to die against an opponent he could never beat, he remained loyal to Kaine. Balfruss would have to move very slowly. Nevertheless the boy had not run away. He suspected it was because he represented someone with knowledge and Willem was burning with curiosity. He’d been the same at Willem’s age, desperate to learn more than the small pieces of information being doled out in class. It was one of the reasons pupils at the Red Tower competed in illegal duels. They wanted to push themselves to the limit.

  Balfruss held up his hands in surrender. “All right, can I ask how long you’ve been his student?”

  “About two years.” Looking more closely Balfruss realised he’d miscalculated the boy’s age. Willem was closer to fifteen and was just a tall and gangly adolescent.

  “Did you really think you could beat me?” asked Balfruss.

  The boy at least had the grace to shrug. “I thought I might catch you off guard.”

  “You tried and failed. So what happens now?”

  “I have to try again,” said Willem, and Balfruss raised an eyebrow. “If I go back without your head he’ll kill me.”

  Part of Balfruss’s arse had gone numb and he quickly got to his feet, startling the boy. Willem jumped back and looked in all directions in alarm. When nothing happened and no one attacked, he started to calm down. He was jumpier than a new-born colt, startled by every shadow and loud noise.

  “Go home,” said Balfruss.

  “I can’t.”

  “I meant your real home.”

  “Can’t do that either,” said Willem. “The whole village got torched during the war. I was scavenging in one of the towns when the Master found me. This is my home now.”

  Balfruss surreptitiously rubbed his arse, trying to get some feeling back into his cheeks. “Then you should travel to the Red Tower. You’re still young and they could teach you there.”

  “Why can’t you teach me?” asked Willem.

  Balfruss was just turning away when the question caught him by surprise. “Me?”

  “You said you know about lots of old stuff. Why can’t you teach me?”

  Balfruss cocked his head to one side and stared more carefully at the boy. Despite the temperature, a few beads of sweat were running down the sides of his face. His eyes settled on Balfruss and then quickly flicked away to one side and back again.

  Even as he started to ask the question Balfruss realised he already knew the answer. Willem had been nothing more than a distraction. It was just another ploy. He’d never stood a chance in a direct fight with Balfruss and Kaine knew that. Willem had been a test, to see if Balfruss would kill a weak and defenceless opponent, or if he’d talk to him. But there had to be more to it than that. If this was a game of Stones, where was the sting in the tail?

  With a scream of rage Willem drew a dagger from under his shirt and lunged at Balfruss. The edge of the blade was discoloured from some kind of poison and Balfruss smelled something sickly sweet in the air. Using the side of his right hand Balfruss blocked the blow then riposted with a fist to the centre of Willem’s chest, right in the solar plexus. The boy stumbled back, gasping for air and unable to stand up straight.

  There was a faint prickle of energy in the air to his left and Balfruss turned towards a hollowed-out building. Realising that they had been discovered, three young students ran out of the front door, each carrying what was probably a poisoned weapon. From his right two more students with a weak connection to the Source ran at him with raised weapons. Willem would catch his breath in a few minutes and soon Balfruss would have six poisoned weapons to deal with. All of those around him were no threat to him with magic, but their blades were an entirely different matter. They wanted to kill him and yet they were nothing more than children.

  Raising his arms Balfruss spread his fingers wide and lifted his palms to the sky. A hook of energy snagged one leg of each student and they were yanked into the air. Willem went with them, snared by an invisible tether forged of Balfruss’s willpower, until all six were hanging upside down. A couple of weapons clattered to the ground, but one or two stubbornly held on to their blades. One of the students even managed to throw a dagger towards Balfruss. The aim was poor but if he did nothing it might catch him on the shoulder. Balfruss suspected even a scratch from these weapons would prove deadly.

  While keeping the six pupils aloft Balfruss focused another portion of his will on the blade, sending it off in a different direction before it reached him. It went sailing through the air, away from any of the figures hanging upside down. A second later he heard someone cry out and spinning around he saw a seventh figure stumbling towards him with a loaded crossbow. She was no more than nineteen years old with pale skin that quickly began to flush red. The crossbow slid from fingers that were starting to swell up as she dropped to her knees.

  The red skin of her hands and face became riddled with purple and blue lines until he could see every vein and artery under the skin. The girl’s scream was so shrill it sounded like a trapped animal.

  The other students had stopped trying to attack him or escape and were now staring at their friend. They’d probably had no idea what the poison would do, only that it would kill him. The girl was someone they knew and, by the horror on their faces, obviously cared about.

  There was nothing any of them could do except watch as the girl’s terror reached new heights while her veins started to turn black. It started at her fingertips and she frantically tried to stop it moving up her arms, scratching and then clawing at the skin. As it crept up her forearms she was whimpering and digging her nails into her flesh until sludgy black blood dribbled out. It hardened like clay as it made contact with the air, and her screams increased to fever pitch. Her head was whipping from side to side as the veins in her neck changed colour. She clawed at her face, digging channels in her flesh until she wore a mask of black blood. After a few seconds it hardened, freezing her expression of agony in place.

  Balfruss thought it was over, but he could still hear a faint wheezing coming from her th
roat. She was still alive. The sound of her breathing continued for a few more seconds, echoing loudly in the street, until with one final rattle she died. Her eyes remained open, staring at her friends, who were still dangling upside down by one leg. Two were crying and praying at the same time, while the others were utterly silent, their expressions of horror a near match to that of the dead girl’s.

  The simplest way to deal with the six students in front of him would be to cut off their heads. Or crush them with his will until they were nothing more than red smears on the ground. He thought about it briefly, but knew he couldn’t slaughter them because it would be just that. Slaughter. It didn’t matter that they had been sent to kill him. They were children with very little power and almost no training.

  At the Red Tower they would have been given a choice. Here, the Master had sent six of them to kill him or die trying, knowing full well that they had no hope of success. Six lives thrown away as nothing more than a distraction for the girl with the crossbow.

  “You all tried and failed. If I ever see any of you again, I will kill you,” said Balfruss, adding a little power behind his words until his voice rattled loose stones. “Do you understand?” he bellowed.

  Any trace of bravado was gone. All of the students had been reduced to frightened children in the face of an implacable enemy.

  Fear was all they knew from the Master, and now Balfruss was using the same tool against them. He loathed himself for doing it but the offer of sanctuary or compassion would be pointless. This city had sickened them, and unlike him they wouldn’t even realise what had happened. After only a few days of exposure he could feel darker emotions trying to bubble up to the surface. Such desires and feelings had become second nature to them. A blunt response was all they would understand.

  With a snarl Balfruss cut his magic and they all crashed to the ground.

  “If you’re not out of my sight by the time I count to five, I will gut you all,” he said. He didn’t even make it to four before he was alone on the street.

  Kaine couldn’t keep hiding forever. Eventually he would run out of pawns to throw at Balfruss and then he’d either come out of hiding or, if this was a game of Stones, put a different piece onto the board.

  Balfruss had to find Kaine before any more people were made to sacrifice themselves out of loyalty or fear. And when he did there would be a reckoning beyond what he’d done to the Warlock.

  CHAPTER 22

  In the deepest cavern under the winery Alyssa knelt on the soft damp earth and tried to pray. It was warmer down here than she’d been expecting, something to do with hot air coming up through the cracks, but more importantly it was quiet. Normally when alone she had no difficulty meditating, but today stray thoughts prevented her from finding any peace.

  Everywhere Alyssa went in the winery people asked her opinion and wanted her to make decisions on their behalf. It had started with the new arrivals but once others learned of the blood oath they also wanted to swear loyalty. Alyssa had refused to let anyone else kneel, but it didn’t stop people treating her as if she were royalty. All day they pursued her with an endless series of questions. Even on the wall, with Zannah’s glare to contend with, they wanted her to make choices for them.

  Alyssa had hoped it would be peaceful down here, away from their constant demands, but a disturbing and erratic noise kept intruding. Row upon row of bright pink stalks rose above her head and every now and then one of them would creak as it stretched upwards trying to find the light. Candles dotted around the cave provided enough ambient light to find her way between the rows, but heavy shadows still pooled around the edges of the cave. In the gloomy corners, and in a small cavern off to one side, mushrooms were growing in the earth.

  To her left another rhubarb stalk groaned and Alyssa flinched at the sound. It was a peculiar noise and being alone in the cave surrounded by the creaking rows of vegetables wasn’t nearly as serene as she’d hoped. Turning her back on the eerie place Alyssa retraced her steps and went back up through the levels, aiming for the courtyard. Perhaps she’d find some peace on the wall with only the taciturn Zannah for company.

  On the way she wanted to ignore every request, but she couldn’t just walk past people when they approached her. No matter how it had been done, they needed her. Alyssa slowed down but never completely stopped walking, gave what brief advice she could, often amounting to nothing more than common sense. She suspected all of them already knew the answers, but they still seemed grateful.

  Eventually she made it to the courtyard where an icy wind was blowing the dust around. The late afternoon sky was lead grey and she thought it might snow. As she paused to pull on a pair of woollen gloves, the sound of raised voices drifted down from above. Zannah was stood on the wall in her usual spot with Balfruss leaning on the wall beside her, staring out at the city. As snatches of their conversation drifted down Alyssa slowed her ascent, not wanting to interrupt but also curious about their disagreement.

  “You’re pushing yourself too hard. Taking too many risks,” Balfruss was saying. “How much did that last stunt cost you?”

  “A few years.”

  “A few?” scoffed Balfruss. “I heard your bones pop when you landed. How many did you break?” When Zannah didn’t answer he shook his head in dismay and ran a tired hand over his face. He looked more drawn than when he’d set off that morning. “If you keep this up, you’ll die, and there’s nothing anyone can do. Not even me. I can’t repeat it. Do you understand?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Balfruss’s laughter was mocking. “You were days away from death when we arrived. How will you help these people if you’re dead?”

  Alyssa hurried to the top of the stairs and the sound of her footsteps halted the conversation.

  “Are you dying?” asked Alyssa. Zannah frowned at Balfruss as if he were to blame. “Answer me!” said Alyssa, gripping her friend by the arm.

  Zannah glanced down at the hand on her forearm but Alyssa ignored her glare. The Morrin’s stare might intimidate others but she knew Zannah would never hurt her. Zannah tried to pull her arm away but Alyssa gripped one of her hands with both of hers. It was only then that she realised how warm Zannah was. Even through the gloves she could feel heat radiating from the Morrin’s body.

  “Zannah, are you dying?” she asked again.

  “No. He . . . helped me,” said Zannah vaguely, gesturing with her chin at Balfruss, who harrumphed but said nothing.

  “Tell me what’s happening,” said Alyssa.

  She looked between them, waiting for one of them to say something, but neither spoke. Zannah never shared anything about herself without being asked the same question repeatedly, and even then what she said was brief. Alyssa thought about asking Balfruss but knew that it would put him in a difficult situation. It was Zannah’s secret to share.

  “I’ll find out,” she promised. Zannah pulled her hand free and Alyssa thought a smile briefly touched her lips.

  “Another day,” said Zannah. “Today you should worry about wizards.”

  Alyssa turned towards Balfruss, who stood with his shoulders hunched from fatigue and something else. The muscles in the side of his face jumped as he clenched his jaw.

  “Kaine sent more of his students to kill me.” The Battlemage was furious, but after taking a few deep breaths his posture relaxed. “They were just children.”

  “Are they dead?”

  Balfruss glanced at Alyssa, a look of surprise on his face that she would ask such a question. “No, not by my hand, but my fear is I’ve killed them all the same. One of them said if they went back without my head Kaine would kill them.”

  “You’re not responsible for his actions,” said Alyssa. “You didn’t make him do it.”

  “No, but I hold some responsibility for them being here in the first place.”

  “Why?”

  Balfruss waved a hand dismissively. “It’s a long story about the Red Tower, for another time.” He glanced at the
sky and frowned. “It’ll be dark soon. Where’s Tammy?”

  “She went to the last mercenary base. The one ruled by Fennetaris,” said Zannah. Alyssa realised she’d only heard other people refer to the mercenary as Fenne.

  “Do you know Fenne?”

  “He was here, occupying Shael during the war.” Zannah’s voice had become rougher and her eyes had drifted somewhere else into the past. The guilt she carried weighed her down far worse than any suit of armour. Every day she was made to remember all of the things she’d done. All Zannah needed to do was look at the face of anyone in their shelter to see the scars of her people’s work.

  “One day we received an order to sail home and most of my people went. A few stayed behind. They had become gluttons.” Zannah’s expression turned sour. They both knew she wasn’t referring to eating or drinking too much. There had been rivers of blood and stacks of bodies piled as high as buildings.

  “What happened to them?” asked Balfruss.

  “I hunted them down and killed them,” said Zannah, matter-of-factly. “Fennetaris was the last one, and the worst. He hid from me.”

  “If Fenne is as bad as you say then Tammy may need help. Can you give me directions to his camp?” asked Balfruss, turning towards the stairs.

  “By the time I’ve drawn a map and explained the route I could be halfway there,” said Alyssa. “Besides, I’m far less of a threat. By now your reputation will have spread. They might try to kill you before you have a chance to speak.”

  “You cannot go,” said Zannah. Alyssa rounded on the Morrin and was surprised to see her smiling. “People here depend on you. They swore an oath.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “When I suggest something that might save their lives, they ignore it. They would continue to ignore it as someone slit their throats and smile at me as they died. When you say the same thing they listen,” said Zannah, checking her sword and pulling on a pair of leather gloves. “Whether you want it or not, you are now their leader.”

  Alyssa hated to admit it but part of her knew that Zannah was right. She was aware that her people could cope perfectly well without her, and if she died they would find someone else to lead them, but in the interim there would be chaos. Without her they might actually succeed in murdering Zannah. Even so, stubbornness, and a chance to get away from the endless questions, made her try one last time.