Stealing Sorcery (20 page)

But maybe I’m thinking about this the wrong way. Maybe catching the assassin isn’t the most important part of this test.

She rushed to Landen’s side, throwing off her backpack, eyes following the assassin while he rushed into the next room.

“What’re you doing, Vel? Get after him!” Landen coughed, clutching at his chest. It was a fake wound – she could see that clearly now that she was up close – but he was putting up a good performance.

“That’s not my priority right now. I already raised the alarm – he’s not getting away. Now, how do you feel?”

She examined the injuries, noting something that looked sickly greenish mixed with his blood.

“I feel like I just got sliced open a few times. Should be fairly evident, yeah?”

“Don’t smart talk me. Can you raise your right arm?”

His arm shuddered slightly, but didn’t move.

“Resh. Okay.” She opened her backpack, swiftly finding her medical kit. “How much pain would you say you’re in?”

“Quite a lot, actually. More than these little cuts should be. Listen, Vel, he got the drop on me –”

“I don’t need excuses, I need to diagnose you. Remain calm and keep your breathing stable.”

Landen frowned. “All right.”

“Are you feeling any tingling in your extremities?”

“Yeah, a little, now that you mention it. And a buzzing in my left ear.”

Velas let out a curse, grabbing a coil of rope from her bag. It was the best thing she could think of. “Bite down on this.”

He blinked, but complied when she shoved the coil in his mouth.

“This is going to hurt. A lot.”

She retrieved an empty flask from the medical kit, as well as two vials, and poured in some of each vial. “Three quarters adenis root extract, one quarter vespas leaf,” giving the ingredients out loud for the benefit of whatever judges were obviously watching the exchange. It was the specific antidote to Sythus viper venom, which was the poison his symptoms seemed to indicate he was suffering from. Normally, his eyes would also be dilated, but she expected that they didn’t go to the extreme of faking that for the test.

Once the liquid was mixed, she poured it on the chest wound. It sizzled on contact, causing Velas’ eyes to widen briefly. That was supposed to happen if it was real poison – she hadn’t expected a reaction to occur.

Whoever faked the alchemical portion of this took it very seriously. I wonder if I was supposed to test his blood for the poison somehow…but I don’t have a way to do that quickly. I suppose if it’s always the same test regardless of who is participating, they might have put some real venom on his uniform in case a knowledge sorcerer decided to test it.

“It should be working,” she said. Landen gritted his teeth against the rope, twitching on the floor and moaning slightly. His acting was pretty good, considering he probably wasn’t in any actual discomfort. Hopefully.

Next, she mixed another batch of the antidote, pouring it on his other two wounds. It reacted similarly. She had worried briefly that he might have been exposed to multiple poisons, but the attacker only had a single visible weapon, and mixing poisons on a single blade was rare.

“You feeling any better?” Velas asked. Landen weakly shook his head. “Fair enough. Probably will take you a few hours to feel any better. If you said you were, I’d think you were lying to get me to chase the assassin.” She grinned.

Landen spat out the rope. “You should go after him now, regardless.”

She shook her head. “Nope. He could loop back around to finish the job. My work isn’t finished until you’re on your feet.”

He moved a hand to try to push himself up, and she grabbed his wrist. “Don’t even think about it. You need a few hours, at a minimum. And you’re still bleeding, even if the poison is most likely neutralized. You still feeling the tingling in your hands?”

Landen shook his head. “No.”

“All right, let’s get you cleaned up.”

She tore the cut in his uniform wider, distributing a little bit more of the antivenom across the surface of his skin, and then retrieved a roll of bandages from her medical kit and began to wrap his chest. “Just relax. We’re going to get you better.”

“Sorry, Vel. I messed up,” he coughed, wincing afterward.

“Nonsense. I assume he cut you before you even saw him?”

Landen nodded weakly. He was sweating profusely, which was a little odd, given that he probably hadn’t actually been poisoned. “Yeah. Came here for my mission briefing, but no one was here – not anyone I could see, anyway. Heard something and turned around. The guy had sliced my left arm open before I could draw. Tried to talk him down, but I got weaker and weaker. Had to drop my left sword, then he found an opening.”

“Did you get a good look at him?”

Landen shook his head. “No. Did you see anything?”

Might be part of the test.
“He’s carrying a paladin issue sword, so he could be one of us.” She thought back, finishing the wrapping on his chest and beginning to bandage his arms. “His garb was unusual. Concealed his appearance, sure, but wearing a cloak like that is impractical. He looked more like a caricature than a real assassin. Not to say he wasn’t dangerous, of course. Throwing those caltrops means he was pretty well prepared. You’ve got good eyes and reflexes – if he got the drop on you, he’s probably a sight or shadow sorcerer.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” Landen gave a brief grin, but it faltered when she tightened the bandages around his left arm. “Don’t take these off. If the tingling returns, inform me immediately. Are you injured anywhere else?

He frowned. “Well, it’s a little embarrassing, but—”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before, I assure you.” She folded her arms. “Just treat me like a doctor.”

“Well, he hit me in the leg, but just below my—”

“Left leg or right leg?”

“Right,” he said, grimacing.

She leaned over, finding a slit in his pants that had been concealed by his position, cursing. She removed a pair of scissors from her pack, methodically snipping off the pant leg at just above the point of the cut. There was a thin line across his skin – just a graze. She mixed more of the antidote.

“This one’s not too bad, but this is still going to sting. Bite the rope.”

She offered the rope back to him, and he grudgingly bit down.

She was washing the wound when the door behind her burst open. Three armed and armored paladins – Banks in the lead – swarmed into the room.

“Jaldin, report!” Banks ordered.

Velas continued washing the wound, not pausing to salute. “A would-be assassin attacked Landen moments ago. He is carrying a paladin-issue long sword laced with Sythus viper venom. He is wearing a mask and a heavy cloak, and potentially carrying other weapons concealed within. He threw caltrops on the other side of the room to slow pursuit. Cadet Landen is poisoned and injured. He fought bravely, but the assassin had the element of surprise. Given that Landen did not immediately see anyone in the briefing room, the assassin may be a sight or shadow sorcerer, and whoever was supposed to be briefing Landen may be injured as well.”

“Good work, Cadet.” She gestured to the other two paladins with her. “Peters, Valoran, pursue the assassin. I’ll see if I can locate whoever was supposed to give the briefing.”

The two paladins swiftly moved past Landen and Velas. She watched them carefully, just in case one of them was going to make any sudden actions that would indicate betrayal.

When the two other paladins had made it to the other side of the room, one of them opened the door.

“And that concludes the test,” Banks said. “Cadet Jaldin, Cadet Landen, you may return to your quarters.”

Landen grinned and raised an arm to wipe off his forehead, his pained expression fading immediately. “Nice work there, Vel. Thanks for saving me.”

She reached down and offered him a hand to help him stand, which he accepted. “Sure. Sorry about your pants, though.”

He shrugged. “Hey, if I’m going to have my pants cut off, you’re the first person I’d want to do it.”

“Charmer.” She grinned, turning back to Second Lieutenant Banks. “How’d I do?”

The second lieutenant’s expression was neutral. “You’ll find out when everyone’s tests are completed. Dismissed.”

She’s no fun at all.

Velas saluted, and Landen quickly mirrored the gesture.

“C’mon. Let’s get you some new pants.”

Lydia stared at her pieces on the board, inching a hand toward one of the mounted knights on the right side. Across the table, Nakane sat with her hands folded in her lap, her expression neutral.

I probably should have asked Aladir for advice before letting Nakane convince me to play. I expected her go easy on a beginner. I apparently expected wrong.

Her deliberations were interrupted by the sound of one of the house guards approaching. He bowed to Nakane, who gestured for the man to speak.

“M’lady, there are visitors at the gate. They claim to be acquaintances of Miss Hastings.”

Nakane turned her head toward Lydia, quirking an eyebrow. “Expecting visitors, Lydia?”

She nodded, though she couldn’t keep her expression completely neutral.
Yes, but not so soon.
“I believe those visitors will be the Thornguard contacts I mentioned.”

“Ah, of course. Elden, please bring them in. I will be quite interested to meet Lydia’s friends.” Nakane turned back toward Lydia as the guard moved to comply. “But don’t think this gets you out of our match.”

“Of course not.” The sorceress pushed up her glasses. “I was just warming up.”

Nakane cracked a grin – a rare sight, in Lydia’s experience. Perhaps she had smiled more when her brother was alive, but Lydia did not know the young woman well enough to judge.

Lydia stood up from the table and stretched, straightening out her tunic. Nakane stood as well, running fingers through her hair, and then turning her head toward the sound of approaching footsteps.

Jonan was better dressed than usual, indicating an unusual level of awareness of social conventions on his part. His red tunic matched one of the colors of House Theas, indicating a degree of respect and solidarity. He wore grey trousers with knee-high black boots, which Lydia noted to be common among higher class citizens this year. He was cleanly shaven for what was, as far as Lydia could guess, probably the first time ever. His brown hair also looked to have been trimmed short and slicked back.

Not bad, Jonan. You could probably pass for a Thornguard – which is probably your intention.

Seeing his companion lent a degree of context to his unusually pristine appearance. Her indigo eyes, completely lacking sclera, were just as striking as Lydia remembered from their days in Orlyn’s courts. She had rarely encountered the so-called goddess Vorain, but the woman was unmistakable in spite of her own change in garb. Gone were the flowing rune-etched robes of office, replaced by a simple Thornguard tabard over a mail hauberk. The armor covered to just below her waist and was cinched by a belt carrying a long, thin-bladed dueling sword. Her trousers and boots were a perfect match for Jonan’s.

“My lady Nakane,” Jonan offered, stopping several feet away and bowing at the waist. “It’s my utmost pleasure to meet you. I am Jonan Kestrian, scribe to the Thornguard, and this is my companion V—”

“Vorianna, m’lady,” the Rethri woman cut in, bowing as well. “Also with ‘te Thornguard. Pleasure.”

Vorianna? Really? That’s the best they could come up with?

“You are both welcome guests in my home, Thornguards. What brings you here?” Nakane looked at Vorain, openly appraising the young woman. If she had any knowledge of Vorain’s other identity, she didn’t betray it in her expression – just a degree of curiosity and interest.

Lydia took the moment to shoot Jonan a quizzical look, which he replied to with an exaggerated wink.

“Well, Jonan heard from your Lydia,” Vorain pointed helpfully at the sorceress, “That you’d be needing a couple extra sets of hands. I’ve got me some time to kill, bein’ on leave an all, and lost a bet to this bastard besides. So, here we are.”

“Here you are, indeed.” Nakane turned her gaze toward Jonan, “Lydia spoke quite kindly of you, but she did not indicate that you were a simple scribe. I was under the impression she had contacted you to see if the Thornguard could provide me with additional protection, given the absence of a response from her own organization.”

Jonan nodded. “Yes, that’s right. Lydia and I are old friends, you see. We go way back.”

Eight months and change
, Lydia noted.

“And?” Nakane prompted.

Jonan shrugged a shoulder. “And here we are. Oh, if you’re worried that we’re not a sufficient force, don’t be. Vorianna here is one of our best, and if you need to be defended against any sort of paperwork, I’m your man.”

“Intriguing. And what sort of paperwork defense do you provide?”

“Well,” Jonan lifted his right hand, opening his palm, “I find it best to be thorough.”

A sphere of orange flame flickered to life in his hand. Even from a distance, Lydia could feel the heat emanating from the orb – which meant something important.

That’s real fire. That’s…new. Either that, or he just never shared the talent with me before. Strange that he’d choose this moment to demonstrate the skill if he was deliberately hiding it in the past, however. What would that imply?

“Ah, a fire sorcerer. Very well, I suppose you have an applicable skill after all.” Nakane nodded appreciatively. “You can dismiss that now.”

Jonan closed his hand, the flame disappearing as he made the gesture. “I’ve heard you’re quite the talented sorceress yourself, Miss Theas. Perhaps we could trade some tricks while I’m here.”

“I doubt that. Your assassin’s sorcery leaves a poor taste in my mouth.” She hesitated for a moment, her eyes narrowing, and then added, “But I won’t discount the idea entirely.”

“Excellent,” Jonan said. “And if the thought appeals to you more, I can certainly share my limited experiences with the local methods.”

Nakane waved a hand dismissively, turning to Vorain. “And you, Thornguard? What can you do?”

“Quite good with a sword, miss. Quite good.” The former goddess tapped the hilt of her sword appreciatively.

“Very well.” Nakane turned to Lydia. “I suppose they’ll be sufficient for now, but I’d feel more comfortable if you or Aladir remain present as well. My mother has grown accustomed to your presence, and I suspect your departure would make her uncomfortable.”

Lydia nodded. “I’ll make sure at least one of us checks in on you periodically. You can trust these two, however. They’re being quite humble about their skills, I assure you.”

“I should hope so. Well, if you’re satisfied with the protection these two can provide, what will your next move be?”

Lydia reached down, moving her knight forward in a daring charge into enemy lines. “Confronting the assassin, of course.”

***

“What, precisely, do you mean that Ulandir Ta’thyriel is unavailable?”

Lydia stood outside the grounds of Ulandir’s manor, only one of several on House Ta’thyriel’s grounds within the city. The three guards – Rethri homes generally had three guards, she had never learned why – were all offering her apologetic looks with varying degrees of sincerity.

The guards were dressed extravagantly, with their blue tunics embroidered with the symbol of a bird - also blue, but with green highlights – on a purple shield. They wore green trousers with golden trim, all pristine in quality. Each wore a short sword on their hip, and the two in back carried iron-tipped spears.

Lydia knew House Ta’thyriel wasn’t the wealthiest house in the city, but she had a hard time believing it looking at their servants – and their perfect gardens, or the marble statues that dotted the grounds of the complex. The sorceress had never had the occasion to visit the few families that reportedly commanded even greater resources – she imagined they would have to line their paths with solid gold to look any more opulent.

Aladir wasn’t with her, which was probably for the best. His relationship with his father had been strained for years, and even if the two had been on good terms, he couldn’t have been expected to be objective in an investigation.

That didn’t stop her from using Aladir’s name to improve her odds of getting quick access to Ulandir, of course, but she had been stopped by something far more mundane.

“Forgive me, Dame Hastings. He is not currently in the city.” The guard bowed slightly at the waist, putting his hand over his heart and closing his eyes in a demonstration of sincerity.

The title caught her slightly off-guard – “Sir” and “Dame” were generally considered antiquated titles. Either the man was trained to be extremely formal, or he was simply trying to let her down as lightly as possible.

The reason was irrelevant, of course – she needed results, not platitudes.

“Where is he, then?” She crossed her arms, then uncrossed them quickly, reminding herself not to look as impatient as she was feeling. She didn’t realize that she had unconsciously been tapping her foot as well.

“I’m afraid that’s not something we’re aware of,” the same guard said. She watched the other guards to see if they had any reactions to his statement, but their expressions were completely taciturn.

Gods, I wish I had about ten guards this disciplined to keep an eye on Nakane.
Her request for additional help had been met with the usual reluctance, followed by an assurance that she would be given additional manpower just “as soon as possible”. Which meant never, in all likelihood.

For the last three days, Lydia and Aladir had taken shifts protecting both Nakane and her mother, Nedelya. House Theas had their own guards, but they had proven insufficient once already, and Lydia was convinced that there was still the threat of another attack.

I just don’t have enough information. I need to try to discern the motive, at least.

It had occurred to Lydia that Nakane was a suspect – she was a sorceress, and as the younger child, she had just potentially won an inheritance with the death of her brother. Her behavior was strangely detached, at least by comparison to the obvious grief of her mother.

The main reason she doubted Nakane was responsible was that she was almost certain that Edrick would be able to determine Nakane’s innocence or guilt when he returned to the city – the man’s resourcefulness was legendary, and he was almost certain to expend all his efforts in attempting to find his son’s killer.

Which could be why Nakane is so desperate to find someone else to pin this on,
Lydia reminded herself.
It’s plausible she could feel the brunt of the investigation – or just the blame – if no one else is available to be Edrick’s target.

“Very well,” she said, mirroring the formal tone of the guard. “In that case, I will need access to his home.”

The lead guard quirked an eyebrow. “I am certain we could arrange a tour. May I inquire as to the nature of your business?”

“Aladir and I are in the midst of a criminal investigation, and we had hoped to utilize Ulandir as a resource.”
Partially true. The elder Ta’thyriel’s sorcerous expertise would be quite useful if he is not the culprit.
“In the absence of Aladir’s father, I might be able to find something useful in his library. He’s known for having an impressive collection, and some of the books may be relevant to our needs.”

“I see.”

The lead guard hesitated for a few moments, took a breath, and then turned and waved a hand at one of the other uniformed men. “Aloras, please escort the paladin to the library. She is to be given access to any of the books, provided of course that she reads them within the library.” He turned back to Lydia. “My apologies, but as much as I would like to, I cannot allow you to remove any of the books without the lord’s permission. Unless, of course, you have a writ—”

She waved a hand dismissively. “I’m not putting Ulandir under arrest. This should be quite satisfactory. If I need to withdraw anything, I’m sure I can send Aladir to retrieve it.”

“Ah, yes, of course.” The elder guard gave a strained smile. “If you require nothing else of me...”

Hrm, guess I wore him out.
“You’ve been very helpful. I’ll be off to the library now.”

***

Ulandir’s library was as extensive as Lydia had suspected, and searching through it in detail would have taken a considerable amount of time. She contented herself to looking for anything overtly suspicious. The sorceress did not expect to find anything as conspicuous as a book on murder – although she did find a rather fanciful novel supposedly written by the Blackstone Assassin. Instead, she hoped to find anything related to the Dominion of Poison.

House Ta’thyriel was famous for their study of healing – both mundane and sorcerous – and just finding a book on poison would not have been suspicious in itself. She found several scrolls and a few books detailing mundane poisons, their symptoms, and their treatments. They certainly could have justified having a book on the Dominion of Poison, but she didn’t find any. With some hesitation, she eventually asked the librarian if they had any, and received a negative in response.

Lydia did find multiple books on the Dominion of Travel – one of the necessary prerequisites for the summoning ritual she had discovered. That was, unfortunately, also nothing that could be used as evidence by itself. Travel sorcery was notoriously difficult, but relatively well-studied due to the utility that it provided. She had even spent a bit of time studying it herself, but only the theory behind it. She had never actually cast any spells of the kind.