Dead Magic (27 page)

Winslow rubbed his forehead and tried not to think of what Dorian might be going through. Lady Minne had been dying to get her paws on Dorian since he was a baby.

"Minne isn't stable enough to come up with an abduction plan," he said with a frown.

"What?" Valeda asked.

"No offense, my Lord," Winslow said to Rorant. "But your wife is seriously unbalanced. She can't plot a decent meal, let alone something like this."

Rorant smirked. "No offense taken, son. And you're right. I believe Lady Lorant had her hands in it as well."

"Neither of those Ladies know anything about the black market," Winslow said. "You can cross off any back alleys or abandoned districts. They'd take Elsie and Dorian where they were confident they could keep them."

"Surely people would notice a pair of bodies being dragged around," Valeda said. "They'd have to go somewhere they could pay people to stay quiet."

"Or someplace where they already had unquestioned loyalty from the staff," Rorant said.

"They couldn't go to Fortress Lorant, every House has spies somewhere," Winslow said carefully. "How many establishments are actually owned and run by Lorant House?"

"Well, there's Fridgets, the Gentlemen's club," Rorant said. "And the Ladies Tea House, but they wouldn't go there. Too many Witch-Born."

Winslow stood and started pacing. They had to find them. But where? Where would those blasted Witches take them?

He moved to the fireplace and stopped. Several sprigs of lavender hung above the mantle, wafting a pleasant scent into the room. He stared at the mantle for a moment, remembering the day he'd found Dorian at Lorant pier. The man had been in hiding for so many years, Winslow almost forgot what he looked like. They'd gone to Fridgets to catch up, him and Dorian and Barty.

Dorian had told them about living on the run. He'd said he'd gone in as a hired hand to collect herbs that grew between the Pillars. Herbs like the lavender hanging on Rorant's mantle. Lorant House financed the collection of lavender so that their noble establishments would always smell fresh. Winslow pointed at the lavender.

"Is Lorant House the only one that collects herbs between the Pillars?"

"I don't think they're the only house, but they're certainly the largest," Rorant said.

"Where do they take the herbs to be processed?" Winslow asked.

"To a storehouse just behind the fortress," Rorant said, standing up.

"It's close enough to the Fortress that two ladies wouldn't rouse suspicion walking through. They'd be comfortable and out of the way," Winslow said.

Rorant came around the desk and charged for the office door.

"Victor!" Rorant shouted into the hallway. "Get the carriage out front!"

Valeda stood as Winslow walked to her. "This next bit could be dangerous, Vee."

"There was a dead man in my bed earlier today," she said. "I imagine I can handle it."

Winslow glanced at Rorant, who was watching them with open curiosity. He gritted his teeth and focused on Valeda's face. She looked quite determined, which made him sigh.

"Stay close to me," he said, and waited for her to nod before taking her hand and hurrying out the door.

"I'm sorry Elsie," Dorian said quietly.

He hurt like crazy and the blasted Remora stone kept him powerless, but at least they were alone. Alois had left them an hour after having relocated them both into a large, central chamber. Most of the room was in shadow, but he could make out a bulky, draped contraption to the left of their position. Bundles of different herbs hung from beams that ran parallel across the room. He scowled at them, recognizing at once where they were.

"This isn't your fault, Dorian."

"I should have known they'd suspect Feverrette House of harboring us," he said. "We would have been safer on our own."

"No," Elsie murmured. He could sense in her voice that she wasn't really listening to him. "They would have found us anywhere. This was meant to be."

His gaze fell to her gloved arm. "Magic told you this would happen?"

"No."

Dorian frowned and debated arguing further. But she needed her focus right now. She needed to access Magic, if she could. It was their only chance at surviving this. Fates knew no one else could find them. He just hoped Elsie could manage the feat before his stepmother made her big move.

So, he focused on what he could do instead. The effects of the poison were slowly wearing off, but his body felt like it had been dragged through town behind a horse. He shifted in his chair, trying to dislodge the stone or loosen the ropes. Neither worked. He scanned the room for something sharp, but found nothing.

He spotted the corner of a table and thought he might be able to scrape the ropes up and over his shoulder. They were damned tight, but it was worth a try. Dorian scooted his chair to the closest table. It was hard work and far too noisy. Every time his chair clattered against the ground, he checked the door.

Finally, flush against the table's edge, Dorian began rubbing his arm, and subsequently the topmost rope, over the hard surface. Wood scraped into his skin and he couldn't lean forward enough to make the rope move very far.

The door opened and his heart fell. They were out of time. Lady Minne Orzebet led Lady Loreena Lorant and Alois into the room. If she noticed what he'd been trying to do, she didn't comment. In fact, his stepmother looked more than pleased. Her wide cheeks dimpled and her eyes creased into sharp blue slits as she smiled at them.

"Lord and Lady Delgora, how nice to see you," Minne said.

"Hello, stepmother," Dorian said. "You're looking less morose today."

He kept his tone flat and forced himself not to look at Elsie. They needed time, so he'd find a way to get it. He'd avoided Minne most of his life, so he wasn't certain how well he could goad her, but it was worth a try. She was known for her dramatics throughout Magnellum and he thought that was a good place to start.

"Charming, Saldorian," Minne said. "But you won't upset me today."

"Oh, I don't know. We just got started. I might have a chance yet."

Minne laughed and twirled across the room, skirts flaring out from her stocky, rotund frame. For a larger woman, Minne Orzebet still managed to look elegant. Dorian thought that might be a blessing of the Talent.

He saw Alois lock the door and lean against it. The move was smugly casual and Dorian had the awful sensation that he was already beaten.
But this is my half-brother,
he thought. He knew this man, right down to the way he preferred his toast. Alois was a bitter, angry, unforgiving man, and that made him dangerous. But he was also arrogant and assuming. Alois probably thought the fight was already over.

Dorian took a deep breath. This was the last mistake his brother would ever make.

"I wonder, Lord Delgora, that you can be so flippant in your current situation," Lady Loreena said.

Dorian focused on the prim, chestnut-haired woman in the corner.
She's as cold as winter,
he thought,
and just as dead
. There was no life in her face, not even a spark of hate in her blue eyes. Dorian felt an intense pity for her. She'd had her husband executed for treason against Magnellum and one of her daughters killed by a Dellidus creature. And both those circumstances could be traced back to Elsie Varene Delgora.

"Yes, well, if I'm to meet my death, I should prefer to go with style," Dorian said.

Minne laughed again. "Don't be so silly," she said. "We don't mean to kill you."

"You don't?"

Minne walked to the contraption and fingered the cloth concealing it. She smiled up at it with something akin to admiration and Dorian felt fear lock in his chest. What else could they mean to do if not kill them?

"We're not stupid," Loreena said. "Killing you would result in the death of the entire Delgora state. The Pillars would collapse and thousands of Untalented would die."

"I find it hard to believe that you care about the Untalented," he said.

"We don't," Alois said. "But the Council does. Some within that antiquated group still believe our charge is to protect the people. They would hardly look on us kindly if we caused the deaths of so many."

"They will hardly look on you kindly for stealing Remora stones and holding two Witch-Born against their will," Dorian said.

"I doubt they will care once Magic has been set free," Minne said.

"Set free?" Dorian asked with a frown. "Set free from what?"

Minne tugged on the fabric, pulling it down in a wide, sweeping motion. Underneath was a disturbing rendition of a guillotine. It was smaller, with an added length of wood set at a ninety-degree angle from the chopping block. The angled blade was already raised, tied off at the side in a hard knot.

Dorian gazed at it in horror and finally looked at Elsie. They meant to take off her arm. Elsie didn't seem to notice the threat. Her eyes stayed focused on something he couldn't see and he knew her mind was far off.

"You can't!" he said. "You'll kill her!"

Minne grasped the contraption and wheeled it over to Elsie, humming some cheerful tune.

"Don't worry," Alois said with a sneer. "We'll free you in time to heal her."

Dorian struggled against the ropes, twisting and turning. He spotted Minne removing Elsie's glove, saw the tattoos glinting in the light. He thought maybe one or two were glowing, but he couldn't be sure. Straining against the ropes, he managed to tilt his chair and the whole thing teetered to the left. Dorian crashed onto the ground on his left and squirmed some more, hoping at least to dislodge the cursed stone from his chest. He heard Loreena call for Alois to do something and then pain exploded in his ribcage.

Alois stood over him, grinning, and kicked him again. Dorian gasped and wheezed. He coughed into the cold, dirty floor and tried to find some sense of coherency. He had to do something.

"Help me here," Minne said.

Alois left him to aid his mother in untying Elsie. They pulled her right arm free and slid it into the device. A wooden slat clamped down against Elsie's shoulder, pinning her there. Elsie closed her eyes, either from defeat or for better focus, Dorian couldn't tell. But if she was communing with Magic, then Magic had better make his move soon.

Someone pounded on the door, startling them all. Loreena detached from the corner, her eyes riveted on the door.

"How did they find us?" she asked. Her voice was panicked-the first sign of emotion he'd seen from her.

"It doesn't matter. They can't get through," Alois said. "Hurry up and do it, Mother."

"Minne Orzebet! I order you to open this door!" Rorant's voice roared from the other side.

"They're Witch-Born," Loreena said. "They
can
get through. Quickly, Minne!"

"No!" Dorian shouted.

Minne pulled a dagger from her belt and started sawing through the rope. The door rattled as something hit it. Dorian glanced between the door and the guillotine rope, still struggling to get free and praying his father managed to break in before it was too late. And then, impossibly, he felt his Talent flare to life.

Confused, he glanced at the Remora stone, but it had fallen off in the middle of his struggle. He spotted its roll away from him and toward Alois's feet.

Dorian snapped the ropes off and leapt to his feet. Alois blinked at him in surprise and opened his mouth as though to shout. Dorian didn't give him the chance. Bending time and propelling himself with his magic, Dorian punched Alois three times; twice in the ribs and once in the jaw. Alois staggered away and Dorian rushed for Elsie.

The cord to the guillotine broke and the blade started to descend. Dorian focused everything he had on the rope, reaching for it as it zipped through the air. He heard Minne and Loreena screaming, heard Alois cursing just behind him, and the door splintered open. He reached the rope. Its rough strands bit into his palm as he snagged it to a stop.

The blade hovered just above Elsie's arm. Each tattoo was lit in her skin; swirling golden patterns glowing brighter with each passing second. Dorian stared-they all stared-as Elsie unraveled the ropes binding her with a touch of her finger. She unlatched the wooden clamp holding her down and sat up. The Remora stone tumbled off her chest, but Elsie caught it with her free hand.

"This isn't possible," Minne said.

Winslow shoved the door open and the room became suddenly crowded. Rorant, Victor, Winslow and Valeda hurried in, only to stop and stare at Elsie. Or Elsie's arm, at least, and the Remora stone still held in her grasp.

"This isn't possible," Minne said again.

Dorian stayed where he was, close enough to her that he could smell the power in her. Her face was wrong somehow, too calm for their circumstances. Her umber gaze was replaced with sheer, clear blue.
Magic's eyes
, he knew; so deep and pure a blue that it was like staring up into a summer sky. His Talent was quietly in awe. Dorian was so entranced by the sight that he didn't see Loreena move toward Elsie.

"Look out!" Valeda shouted.

Winslow dived forward, blocking Elsie from the Lady. Dorian released the rope and turned, letting the guillotine slam into its base. He spotted movement at the corner of his eye. Minne bent time, grabbed him by the shoulder, and thrust her dagger into his back. He felt it skim against his spine, felt the arch of it pierce his lung, and choked on a surprised gasp.

His father screamed something angry, but Dorian was too focused on the blade to hear it. Minne twisted the knife, ripping through muscle and sinew before yanking it out. She drew back to stab him again when the whole room stopped moving.

Agony pulsed through his wound. Dorian didn't know how much time he had, but he focused his Talent on healing himself anyway. In his mind he mapped out the injury, noting every torn and flayed muscle before accessing his magic to mend it. An injury this large normally required focus and rest, but Dorian had lived through enough assassination attempts that he'd almost perfected the rushed version of healing.

The trick was to take the mortality out of the equation. He could heal the wound until it was no longer a threat to his life and then leave it for later. Of course, this always meant he had to go back and fix it for real, but at least he could move and fight his way out of the situation. Only this time, when he was finished, he discovered that he still couldn't move.