Talkas grunted. “None of us have your faith in that broken Vakari to handle anything. No, another is already in position to take care of it.”
Maltus forced himself to breathe normally as his fists clenched. He looked straight at the Magistrix. “You don’t have to kill her. Bring her in—detain her as you see fit. But please, don’t kill her.”
Her eyes softened slightly, but her expression remained firm. “I’m afraid the decision has already been made. And you, my friend, are requested to stay in your home for the time being. I know it will be difficult for you, but it is for the best.”
“What about Chaval?” Maltus asked. “You’re willing to kill the daughter of the Prophetess but you’ll leave him alone?”
“Chaval will not be a threat much longer,” Wilhelm said flatly.
“Simon Chaval will not rule this country, and he will not bring about the end of our order,” Veldara added. “There is nothing else you need to know. Your part in this is over, Magus Maltus. We thank you for your service and ask that you wait peaceably for your next assignment.”
Maltus swept his gaze across the Council, but many refused to meet his eyes. He had served with these men and women for decades, and he had even been friends with most of them. But now…
They had made their decision. They were going to kill Eve, and then they were probably going to start the very war they feared.
Maltus dismissed the Dreamscape. A few moments later he blinked back into consciousness, and he was once again sitting in the chair in his office.
Except this time, he wasn’t alone.
“They sent you before the summons, I assume,” he said into the stillness.
“Yes,” a male voice replied from the darkness of the adjacent room. Shortly after, a young man stepped from the shadows into the doorway. His face was hard, and he had the rigid, muscular body of a soldier. He wore functional, dark clothing and gloves that made him nearly impossible to see in the flickering candlelight.
Maltus would recognize a member of the Crimson Eclipse anywhere. He just couldn’t believe the Council had sent one into his home.
“So they really don’t trust me.”
The Eclipsean shrugged. “They believe your personal feelings might override your better judgment, and I’m here to make sure you behave for the next few days.”
“Not the most entertaining job, supervising an old man.”
“It’s not just you. They know all about your lady friend, and she will be confined in here with you.”
A knot wrenched in Maltus’s stomach. Jean had been out in town alone for hours, more than enough time for the Enclave’s thugs to get ahold of her. And he was the one who had dragged her into all of this…
“You needn’t worry about her,” the Eclipsean went on, the faintest trace of amusement in his voice. “We have no desire to harm anyone, let alone a priestess. As long as both of you cooperate, we won’t have a problem.”
Maltus locked eyes with the younger man. “I’m sure they told you everything about me before sending you on this mission. I wonder if they warned you that I don’t respond well to threats.”
The man smiled. It was a cold, humorless thing, and Maltus couldn’t help but shiver.
“I know more about you than your own mother, Magister,” he said. “I know your tendencies, your skills…and your weaknesses.”
“I guess I should feel honored,” Maltus murmured. “Being worthy of such a professional like yourself, I mean.”
“I also know that you’re clever and not to be underestimated,” the man replied coolly. “You won’t goad me into letting my guard down.”
Maltus grunted. “A pity.”
“Normally you’re the methodical type. You would be patient enough to wait for the slightest gap in my attention before making your move. But right now you’re desperate—you feel you don’t have the time to wait, and that means you’ll test me right away.”
“Clever boy,” Maltus said, and meant it. “I just wonder if they also told you why I’m a senior member of the Council.”
“You won’t intimidate me, either. I’ve been trained against the best and brightest since I was a small child. But of course, you know that, and I’m certain the Enclave hoped it would make you see reason.”
Maltus smiled grimly and shook his head. “My boy, the closest thing I have to a daughter is about to be murdered by your masters. How rational do you think I am right now?”
“Not very,” the Eclipsean replied coolly. “And that’s why I don’t intend to give you a chance.”
He was fast, a tribute to the best martial training in the world. He was young and conditioned, fully capable of dealing with a wide variety of threats, both mundane and magical. With a flick of his wrist he unleashed a barrage of spells, all designed to incapacitate or immobilize his target before Maltus could even move. The air flashed with angry surges of light as the Fane sparked to life, and scintillating strands of energy lunged out towards the older man like a thousand hungry tentacles trying to crush their prey.
And then Maltus raised a hand, and it all disappeared. The young man’s eyes popped open wide as Maltus stood from his chair.
“I am a Magister, a senior member of the Enclave and privy to secrets even you don’t know about,” Maltus said stiffly. “I make my own chances.”
He reached out to the Fane and wove another spell. A low, guttural rumble shook across the room as he used the Fane to tug at the very fabric of time itself. The Eclipsean tried to react, but it was like he was trying to move underwater. The man released another barrage of energy, but Maltus, unburned by the temporal dilation, easily stepped aside before the grasping tentacles ever came near him.
The magister called to the Fane again, this time pulling at the invisible and omnipresent hand of gravity. Even as the Eclipsean’s eyes slowly tracked towards his target, he suddenly fell—straight up to the ceiling.
His training allowed him to take the fall more gracefully than most under the circumstances, but he still impacted against the wooden ceiling with a resounding
thwack
. He recovered quickly and started to weave his own spell to counter the shift in gravity, but Maltus did it for him—and the Eclipsean fell once more, this time the normal direction.
“Stay down,” Maltus warned, his voice sounding odd through the temporal distortion. The Eclipsean’s movements were so slow, so staggered, even a child could avoid him at this point. Nonetheless, he produced a pistol from inside his jacket as he sluggishly rolled into a combat crouch. And even with his artificially heightened reflexes, Maltus wasn’t sure he could dodge a bullet.
He waved his hand again, this time shaping the Fane into a fine silver mist. It sprayed from his palm and blew across the weapon, dissolving it like a stiff gale crumbling a mound of sand. The Eclipsean stared down at his hand, mouth agape.
“I’ll let them know you put up a good fight,” Maltus said. “Though they might want to add a training regimen for controlling hubris.”
A surge of energy flashed from the Magister’s hands, and the Eclipsean shrieked as his entire body was riddled with convulsions. After a few seconds he crumpled to the floor in a ball, unconscious.
Maltus bit down on his lip as a spike of pain shot through his chest and numbed his limbs. He growled in annoyance. He didn’t have time to sit here and recover from the Flensing. Jean was in trouble, and he needed to get to her before—
The front door opened, and he immediately threw himself forward and pressed against the wall. He forced himself to take a deep breath and ignore the pain. If it was another Eclipsean, he needed to be prepared and take the man by surprise if at all possible.
“Glenn?”
Maltus frowned. “Jean? Are you all right?”
“More or less,” she said. A loud
thump
followed a second later, and she let out a sigh. “I brought you a present.”
He spun around the corner. She was standing there in the doorway, eyebrow cocked, the body of another young man crumpled on the floor to her right and several shopping bags piled at her left.
“What…?” he breathed.
“He came after me when I got near the house,” she explained. “Pretty young thing, bit of an attitude problem, though.”
Maltus blinked. “You…?”
Jean snorted. “What, you don’t think I was ready for your friends to turn on us? That’s what they do, Glenn.”
He shook his head as he looked down at the body. It was clearly another Eclipsean.
She smiled wryly when she saw his confusion. “You know, I may not be a big, bad Magistrix or anything, but I’m not exactly helpless. I am a priestess of Edeh, and I like to think I’m on Her good side.”
Maltus smiled back. She really hadn’t changed much in all this time…
Then he remembered what was at stake, and the smile vanished. “They’re going after Eve. I need to warn Shaedra, and we need to get out of here.”
Jean nodded. “What about these two? They’ll wake up eventually.”
“Leave them,” he told her as he moved back to the office and tapped the sending stone. As it hummed faintly, he swept his eyes across his house. In all likelihood, it was the last time he would ever see it. The Enclave would make it impossible for him to return. They would make it difficult for him to go anywhere, especially out east…
But it didn’t matter. Right now, the only thing he needed to worry about was Eve. Once she was safe, then he could worry about picking up the pieces of his shattered life.
And surviving the war they all knew was coming.
Chapter Nineteen
“You should be dead,” the cold, hollow voice said. “Again.”
Shaedra’s eyes slowly fluttered open. Alex sat on a tree stump just to her left, and he looked upon her with just as much disgust as ever.
“Disappointed?” she croaked. It had been a long time since she’d lost consciousness, and she’d forgotten how jarring it could be to both mind and body.
“A little,” he replied. “But at least it proves me right: you really are a coward.”
She snorted and tried to lift herself up, then immediately decided it was a mistake. Her shoulder still throbbed, and her left arm was entirely useless. Danev had put together a sling—a screlling
sling
—and she glared down at the bandages coddling her arm. She hadn’t slept for probably ten years, but she hadn’t been lame in centuries. And she wasn’t sure this wound would ever heal.
“Coming from you,” she said dryly, “that means almost nothing.”
“I died defending my beliefs,” he reminded her. “You murdered thousands in an attempt to defend yours. I wonder: which is more heroic in the end?”
Shaedra glanced daggers at him. “I’m really not in the mood. Don’t you have a cemetery to haunt or something?”
“It all just seems so…familiar,” Alex said wistfully. “How many times did I warn you about the magic you were trying to manipulate? And yet you always ignored me—you ignored everyone. You sat in your tower day after day as Vakar continued to burn. Then one day you emerged with a spell you thought would destroy the Lesseks. And instead, you—”
“You think that’s why I’m sympathetic towards Eve?” she growled. “You think that’s why I want to help her?”
He snorted. “No. I know you’re not the type to seek penance for your sins. You wouldn’t delude yourself into thinking that by helping this girl, you can somehow be pardoned for your crimes.”
“So what, then? What’s your brilliant conclusion?”
“It’s simple,” he said. “You enjoy playing with fire.”