Magefall Page 20

  “Very colourful.”

  “So what do we do instead?” asked Munroe. “I swear if you say ‘be patient’ or ‘wait’ I’ll throw you through that wall and drown you in the river,” she said.

  The Butcher showed no signs of alarm other than to raise one eyebrow. He considered his answer carefully and Munroe felt herself reaching for the Source. She would throw him through the wall and into the next building and the one after that. There was only so much sitting around and doing nothing she could stomach. She needed answers. She needed an edge. Drawing power into herself she felt it fill her body, making every part of her skin tingle. Her senses were magnified until she could hear the slow and steady heartbeat of the Butcher. It also made her aware of a few other things about him that she’d previously missed.

  He smelled of the sea and because he was dressed in a black leather vest she couldn’t miss the heavy muscles across his shoulders and down his arms. His vest hid little and showed off his unique tattoos. It would make him a distinctive figure wherever he went. She’d presumed it was because he liked showing off his body, but now she began to wonder if there was another reason.

  Wherever he went, people would immediately recognise him. The woman serving drinks behind the bar had steady hands until she came to serve the Butcher. Munroe had also noticed the worried looks other patrons had been giving him since he sat down. People were petrified of him.

  It shouldn’t matter. She’d left all of the mind games and scheming behind to start a new life and yet here she was, back in Perizzi, hip deep in Family business again.

  “Follow the money,” said the Butcher.

  Munroe eased her grip on the Source, dulling her senses in the process. “What do you mean?”

  “A peculiar thing happened in the last few days. All of her orphanages here in the city recently changed patrons. Priests have rededicated them to the Maker, the Blessed Mother or the Lady of Light.”

  “Someone else is trying to get rid of her in Yerskania,” said Munroe.

  “I suspect those in Rojenne will soon disappear as well. So, if you were one of her followers, and suddenly all of her orphanages in Yerskania are gone, where do you send the money?” asked the Butcher.

  “You said she had orphanages in the north. In Zecorria,” said Munroe.

  “I have four bookkeepers,” he said. “I’d be an idiot to trust one person with all of my money.”

  “She has another money spider in the north,” said Munroe. With the Guardians swarming over Perizzi, and now someone else removing her connection to the orphanages, Akosh would have to be an idiot to return to Yerskania. She still had people in the city, but wouldn’t know if they had been bought. And with so many different parties just waiting for her it would be the same as walking into a bear trap with your eyes open.

  At the moment Zecorria was a safe harbour where she was still surrounded by people she could trust. The difficulty for Munroe, without having a network of her own, would be finding reliable information in the north. If she started asking too many questions or used her magic overtly it would draw attention.

  “I can see what you’re thinking,” said the Butcher. “Nothing has changed, Munroe. If you go to Herakion, you’ll be on your own, in her city. I have a handful of people there, but they’re just Ears. They never ask questions and you can’t use them for that. Someone might be willing to talk, if you have enough gold, but sifting through the lies will be the challenge.”

  He was right. Sometimes people would tell you exactly what you wanted to hear for a bit of money. Once people found out she was after Akosh they would come crawling out of the woodwork to feed her information. And in a city teeming with Akosh’s people it wouldn’t be long before someone tried to cut her throat in the middle of the night. In spite of knowing all of that, she couldn’t sit still any longer. She knew it was rash. Balfruss and Tammy would probably say she was letting her thirst for revenge consume her and they’d be right. It didn’t matter. Her rage was a living thing inside her. Munroe could feel it hammering against the bars of her restraint like a caged bear. It would only remain in check for so long. After that even she was afraid of what might happen.

  “It doesn’t matter. I have to go north,” insisted Munroe. “She must pay for what she’s done.”

  “There’s also the other thing,” said the Butcher. “The Regent has banned all mages, except those from Zecorria, who are willing to serve him.”

  “People in the north don’t know me, or how my magic works. I can use it quietly until I find her. I just need some answers.”

  “If you insist on doing this, then at least take someone you can trust. Someone who will watch your back.” Munroe immediately thought of Choss and her heart lurched in her chest again. “You need someone who doesn’t stand out.”

  Tok would be the ideal candidate and she knew he would be reliable. On the other hand, she wasn’t sure she could put him at risk. The thought of what it would do to his family if something went wrong was too difficult, and too familiar, to think about. An idea began to form in the back of her mind. People always underestimated her because of her size. She needed someone who could help her who would also go unnoticed.

  “I have the perfect person in mind,” said Munroe. “I need you to send a message south to Rojenne.”

  Once her new partner arrived she would travel north and begin her hunt. All she needed to do was find the bookkeeper, or, failing that, one person who was loyal to Akosh. Then she would squeeze them for every drop of information. However loyal the person, it would be meaningless in the face of what she could do to them with her magic.

  CHAPTER 23

  Akosh took a deep breath and tried to calm down. To distract herself she studied Bollgar’s office, making a note of the small changes. He’d hung a few sprigs of dried lavender from the ceiling, giving the room a pleasant floral scent that wasn’t overpowering. The stained robe he normally wore was gone and in its place black trousers and a stark white shirt that strained across his vast middle. A navy waistcoat and matching blue hat gave him the look of a retired sea captain, but all of it was a vast improvement from her last visit. He even smelled much better and she could see the skin on his face had been freshly scrubbed. She knew he was sweating, as dark stains were appearing under his arms, but at least the brim of his cap kept his face dry.

  “Say that again. Slowly,” said Akosh when she felt in control again.

  “The two orphanages in Rojenne and all of the others in Yerskania have been rededicated to other gods.”

  “All of them.”

  “Yes, Mother. Priests from the Maker and others recently visited.”

  “When, exactly, did this happen?” she asked.

  “In the last seven days.”

  Someone had been planning this for a while. To have all of them change, almost overnight, was unprecedented. It was possible human agents had been involved in persuading the orphanages, but she knew the person behind them all was one of her brethren. It was probably one of the eldest like Vargus or Nethun. No one else would be so bold. Only they understood what such a move would mean to her in the future.

  Without the orphanages she had only one way of identifying those loyal to her in Yerskania; tracking the donations made to Bertran her bookkeeper.

  She had far too many followers in Yerskania for her to remember them all. While some of her children might raise their offspring in the same faith, their loyalty was not as absolute. She could ask anything of her followers because she had saved them from a life of misery or an early death. Their children would be less reliable.

  In fifty years’ time, when all of her children were dead, she might cease to exist. Without followers, without their prayers and focus, her power would dwindle to nothing. She might disappear into the Void and never re-emerge.

  In human terms fifty years was a lifetime and so much could change. For her kind it was nothing. A blink of an eye. She needed to find out who was doing this to her and how much they knew about he
r plans.

  To lose everything she had built in Yerskania could not be tolerated. She still had many children in the country who were dormant. They were just going about their lives as normal. Their only direct contact with her might have been at an early age if she’d visited the orphanage. Since then their only connection was a monthly donation to help others. If she could find them, then perhaps now was the right time to test their loyalty and put them to good use. Most of her children in Yerskania were not in positions of power, but as shown with the Seekers that wasn’t always necessary.

  Whoever was behind this probably expected her to rush back to Yerskania to solve this personally. She had not gone unnoticed for this long by being rash.

  “What about Bertran?”

  “He’s not been seen in Perizzi for days,” said Bollgar. “I received a report that mentions the Guardians dragging him out of his shop. I believe he’s being questioned by them.”

  Bollgar swallowed hard and went to mop his brow then remembered his new cap. He was right to be nervous. Bertran had been a loyal servant and an excellent bookkeeper, channelling all of the money into solid investments. The profits went back into funding the orphanages across Yerskania. Unlike Bollgar he had been a soldier as a young man, making him able to resist their questioning for longer. Even so, he wouldn’t be able to hold out indefinitely. It was possible they already had a list of his clients and were hunting down her people.

  Akosh gritted her teeth in frustration. It was beginning to look as if all of her people in Yerskania were completely lost. At least her followers would continue to sustain her for the short term. Surviving the next few months was the most critical issue. She could look at rebuilding when this crisis had passed.

  Bollgar was very aware that if he was captured by the Guardians, or anyone else, he wouldn’t last a day in their less than tender care. Perhaps from now on that might persuade him to behave in a more friendly fashion towards his two apprentices.

  Akosh was getting annoyed at the Guardians and their constant interference. They were always sticking their noses into other people’s affairs. If it was limited to Yerskania, that would be bearable, but sometimes they were invited abroad to solve difficult cases. For all she knew they could be petitioning the Regent right now to continue their investigation here in Zecorria.

  “Has the money been redirected here?”

  “Yes, Mother. A number of anonymous individuals have sent me their donations. I might be able to identify them, given enough time.”

  “Make sure half of the new donations are sent to Nazren.”

  “Yes, Mother.” He managed to keep the sneer from his face, but not out of his voice. She had none of Bollgar’s problems and was equally brilliant with numbers and investments. It was far safer to split the money in case Bollgar’s heart finally gave out.

  “What do you want to do about Bertran?” he asked.

  It was a good question. As had been promised, Habreel had died in Unity Hall and it had been made to look like suicide. So far her ally was as good as his word. It would be very easy to reach out and ask him for another favour. Akosh was confident arrangements could be made so that Bertran suffered a similar fate to Habreel. But she needed to avoid relying on her ally.

  As for Bertran it was already too late. She had no way of knowing how much he’d already told the Guardians. The damage had been done and her network in Yerskania had been compromised. Only a few months ago she would have wasted resources on trying to retrieve him and would have felt guilty if the attempt had failed.

  “Nothing. Let him rot in a cell. He failed me,” said Akosh.

  “Yes, Mother,” whispered Bollgar, avoiding her gaze.

  “What’s happening with the new orphanages here?”

  “They’re in hand,” said Bollgar, pulling down a ledger from the shelf. “We’re recruiting staff and should be able to open in a few weeks. Do you want the details?”

  Akosh waved them away. If Yerskania was lost then at least she still had a strong foundation here in the north. From it she could rebuild in the west and even look to the east.

  Seveldrom had suffered losses in the war and they were almost as liberal and weak as Yerskania. It would be easy to set up orphanages over there dedicated to a god no one had heard of before. The only difficulty was the distance and the time required. It would also mean weeks or even a couple of months away from Zecorria.

  A surrogate could be sent in her place, but experience had taught her that absolute loyalty required a miracle that only she could provide. It was a lot easier to believe in a god, follow their teachings and pass that faith on to others, if you had witnessed their power first-hand.

  That was a problem for another day. In the meantime, she needed to know who was coming after her.

  This time while she waited for Bissel at the Golden Goose, Akosh was relaxing in the dining room with a friend. The young man didn’t have a lot to add to their conversation, but he followed every word she said with great care. So far that had consisted of her telling him stories from the early days when she’d been wild and hadn’t thought about the future. Newly born, she’d had no doubts about living for ever and had revelled in the murders and the occasional bloodbath. Sometimes literally. Around the world assassins had butchered victims in her name and her power had grown. It was always going to be that wonderful. Until it wasn’t.

  “I tried bathing in a virgin’s blood once. It didn’t seem all that different to me. It was just so sticky,” she lamented and her companion’s eyes widened in terror. “Perhaps I wasn’t doing it right. Maybe I should try again, although I think we both know that you’re not a virgin any more.” She laughed and nudged him with her shoulder in a friendly fashion. Sweat continued to pour down the sides of his face and a single tear ran from his left eye.

  There was a bold knock on the door and a moment later Bissel strode into the room. His confidence evaporated when he saw who else was in the room.

  “Ah, I believe you two know each other,” said Akosh, noting the strong resemblance. They had the same nose, but where Bissel had dark hair his son’s was blond.

  The son tried to say something, perhaps to bravely warn his father, but the gag in his mouth muffled everything. He strained against the rope around his wrists and ankles but Akosh didn’t try to stop him. She enjoyed watching him wriggle about. He was a tall, strapping young man, with balls the size of a horse’s. Only a few hours ago he’d tried to seduce her in the tavern, but events had not gone quite as he’d anticipated.

  “Join us for a drink,” she said, pushing a glass of wine across the table. Bissel remained frozen in the doorway, his eyes flicking between them. “I said sit down and have a drink.” The tone of her voice startled him into action. As if in a trance he closed the door and then sat down.

  “You’ll be all right,” Bissel promised his son.

  “Really?” she said, drawing a dagger and placing it gently against the son’s cheek. He squeaked and tried to shuffle away from her but there was nowhere to go. “Do I have your attention?” Bissel focused on her and she relaxed. As a show of good faith she even went so far as to place the dagger on the table.

  “What do you want?” asked Bissel.

  “How is the wine?” she asked, ignoring his question. He was struggling to focus on her words but eventually lifted the glass to his lips and gulped some down.

  “It’s very nice.”

  “I want you to send a message to your Master, whoever he is. I would like a face-to-face meeting, here, in Herakion.” As Bissel opened his mouth to protest Akosh held up a hand and he fell silent. “Choose your next words very carefully,” she warned him.

  “He won’t come.”

  “Then you’ll have to persuade him,” said Akosh, affectionately patting his son on the leg. “I know you were ready to die for your Master, but what about your son? What about his life, Doctor Bissel? Aren’t you supposed to save lives?”

  After the last time they’d been in this room toget
her she’d followed Bissel back to his surgery. Since then some of her people had been gathering information about him. Regarded as an adequate doctor with moderate skill, he lived a comfortable life with his only son after the tragic death of his wife. Unknown to everyone was Bissel’s devotion to a new and mysterious god called Akharga. She knew it had something to do with medicine and healing, but the name was also another mask, making it impossible for her to know their real identity.

  “I know all about you, Doctor, and what you’re wearing around your neck,” she said, gesturing at his shirt. It was a crude icon, made to resemble an open eye in the middle of a triangle. So far her people had found six doctors and several apothecarists in the city wearing the same pendant.

  “He’s not in the city,” said Bissel, trying a different approach. “I don’t even know if he’s in Zecorria.”

  “Then you’d better send him an urgent message. Until then, your son is going to keep me company.” Akosh put one arm around his shoulders as if they were good friends or lovers. This time he was far less eager to get close to her. She could feel him shaking while he whimpered like a newborn puppy.

  “Be brave, son. I’ll get you out of this, I promise,” said Bissel. She didn’t bother pointing out he couldn’t keep that promise, but she let it go if it meant less whimpering from the son. With a glare and a shake of his head Bissel hurried out of the room leaving the two of them alone again.

  He knew she was serious which meant he would do everything to get his Master to visit. Even without knowing the identity of her ally, she could start making preparations for his arrival. She had eyes and ears all over the city.

  Soon she would find out who was behind the curtain. Then it would be time to adjust their alliance in her favour. Or end it abruptly if he tried something untoward.

  “We’re going to have so much fun,” she murmured, slapping her companion on the leg. Beside her the young man began to scream around his gag.