The Shadowmage Trilogy (Twilight of Kerberos: The Shadowmage Books) (71 page)

With a terrible but inevitable slowness, the front of the building collapsed, masonry and burning timbers crashing down into the street on top of the crowd. Only those who had first started to run escaped; the rest were crushed by falling stone or consumed by the flames.

Cursing Adrianna’s callousness, Lucius aimed another set of magical bolts at her, this time drawing on different magical threads. One of them, the bolt that took its energy from the darkest of magics, reacted violently with her shield.

His theory, and that of Master Forebeck, was confirmed. Now Lucius had his weapon.

He pulled on the thread of unlife, pouring its energy into a new spell around Adrianna. Almost instantly, she saw what he was doing and began to fuel her own shield, but as he clenched his fist, Lucius felt the pressure of his spell begin to squeeze her shield dry of energy.

The rate at which Adrianna repaired the damage he dealt to the shield was impressive, he could not deny, but the death magic he used simply annihilated the natural energies she was using, draining them as fast as she could funnel magic into her defence. Flooding the air about her with his spell, Lucius felt the crack as her shield buckled and broke.

As his spell reached Adrianna, she screamed aloud, and he saw her skin turn grey as heat, vitality and life were drawn from her. The air currents holding her aloft failed, and she plummeted to the ground, where only a hastily improvised spell saved her from a mortal fall. Hitting the ground hard, she rose shakily to her feet almost immediately.

Her face was a mask of hate, filled with rage that Lucius dared to penetrate her magics and had actually managed to hurt her. Colour flooded back into her skin as arcane energies surged through her, and Lucius quickly reshaped his spell to form a protective wall between them.

The dark bolt of energy that she flung at him ripped through his magical wall as though it were paper and exploded against his chest, throwing him back as it sizzled with a cold fire. Clutching his chest in pain, Lucius cursed himself for not anticipating her move; after all, the shadow bolt she had just sent his way was a branch of magic that Shadowmages were all familiar with. Now he had to find a way to trump the magic of shadows as well as Adrianna’s grip on natural sorcery.

He saw Adrianna fuelling another spell, and there was no mercy in her expression. Lucius could feel the thread of shadows twist and lose focus as Adrianna pulled upon it to do her bidding and relinquished all control, knowing he could not compete with her directly. Instead, he plucked the more stable strands of four threads, more or less at random, sweating as he quickly assembled them into a multi-layered shield.

The shield was only just raised in time, and Lucius knew he would have to be quick in its manipulation if he were to survive her next strike. Each layer was painfully thin, having been hastily formed, and the effort of controlling four threads at a time was taking its toll, as his vision blurred and breathing became shallow. He could feel the strength ebbing from his limbs and his thoughts becoming disjointed.

Adrianna’s next bolt of shadow was a hammer blow that shattered the first two layers of his shield as though they were no more than air. The next, a gossamer thin construction, formed from the same natural magic that Adrianna was gifted with, held.

Immediately dissolving the rest of the threads, Lucius sank more energy into that single defence. He felt Adrianna narrow her focus as she, too, poured magic into her spell, trying to drive her bolt through the shield and into his body. Lucius’ control began to slip as his shield grew in power to match the onslaught, but still Adrianna’s spell pressed at him.

For a brief second, Lucius felt the pressure of Adrianna’s spell relax, and he wondered whether she had abandoned it. Then she threw a second bolt at him. It sped into the shield, growing in strength as Lucius’ own spell began to fuel it. He cried in alarm as he saw his defences falter and felt an icy grip of cold air begin to circle him like a snake. As if a giant had plucked him from the ground, Lucius found himself tossed through the air, flying across the street to land hard on the cobbles.

Choking, Lucius was dimly aware that the throw had stunned him, and struggled to draw breath into his tortured lungs. He knew Adrianna was not far away and would be preparing her next spell, one that would finish him off if he did not get back on his feet.

Shaking his head to clear his vision, Lucius took a deep but painful breath, and then raised himself up on his arms. Slowly, he stood, and faced Adrianna.

She had taken to the air again, and was floating above the ruined shop. Her defences were back up again, and Adrianna was already summoning magic in readiness for their next bout. She looked as healthy and alert as when they had started this fight.

“I never wanted to kill you, Lucius,” Adrianna called down to him. “But you are beginning to prove a hindrance. For the good of our future, you cannot be allowed to interfere further.”

Lucius felt the energies build up within Adrianna, and knew that he had neither the strength nor the talent to defend himself. He knew he had only a few more seconds of life left to him.

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Aidy,” he said bleakly. “We could still be allies. You just have to...”

Words failed him.

“You have no idea of what is going on, or what has truly been at stake. You have wasted every opportunity the Shadowmages have offered to you, and now that will prove your downfall. You could have been one of us, Lucius, not a common thief.”

“So maybe I am just a common thief, Aidy. You could let me walk away now. I’ve left this city before, I’ll leave it again,” he said, trying not to sound as though he were begging. Dignity aside, he guessed how Adrianna would regard any display of weakness.

Instead, she actually smiled.

“You would come back,” she said. “You always will. I don’t think you could ever stay away for long.”

In his mind, Lucius felt Adrianna start to feed energy into her spell. He stared up at her, facing annihilation.

“This would just happen later, if it did not happen now,” Adrianna said. “Best we end this now, Lucius.”

A flash of movement from behind Adrianna drew Lucius’ gaze, and he was astonished to see Elaine. Shakily moving toward Adrianna, sword drawn, Elaine looked ravaged. She was blackened with soot from head to foot, which did not disguise the ugly wound that bled from her scalp or her limp.

Lucius opened his mouth to shout, but he suddenly realised he did not know who to shout to. Despite her injuries, Elaine slithered towards Adrianna with cat-like grace, a look of grim, deathly determination on her face.

Sensing something amiss, Adrianna spun around, and saw Elaine, just feet from her. Before she could reshape the spell, the assassin sprang forward, hacking down with the sword and burying it deep into Adrianna’s shoulder. Lucius saw blood spray from the wound, the sword’s tip visible through her back.

Adriana screeched, a piercing, inhuman wail. She raised her free arm and let the magic she had gathered flow without control. A firestorm of bright, multi-coloured light sprang from her hand, shards of magic lancing through Elaine’s body and spilling out into the shop’s crumbling walls where they exploded in a shower of burning debris.

Unable to take this last abuse, the building sagged and collapsed in on itself in a mass of flames, rubble and smoke that billowed up into the sky, carrying burning embers with it.

Lucius stared at the ruin, where Elaine and Adrianna had fought a moment before, now buried deep within the burning rubble.

Lucius fell to his knees and, covering his head with his arms, wept.

CHAPTER TWENTY

W
ITH THE RISING
sun climbing the eastern sky, Turnitia was already a boiling hive of activity. People moved through the streets with purpose, either joining the crowds in the Square of True Believers or near the northern gate, or else hawking their wares to the mob from street corners. A few, no doubt, moved with more nefarious tasks in mind.

Lucius had found one of the few quiet places in the city, on the northern tower of the Citadel, one of the highest points in Turnitia. Since the earliest hours of the morning, the Citadel had been all but deserted, with just a few officials and servants inside. None had even challenged him when he had strode confidently through the gatehouse. From this vantage point, Lucius could watch almost the entire northern half of the city, looking down upon its houses, shops, and squares.

Gazing to the west, enjoying the fresh breeze that washed in over the cliffs, Lucius tried not to look at the great blackened gashes that still marred the city, whole districts still in ruin. In the two months since the great fire, as the citizens had started to call it, the city had rallied and rebuilt a great deal of the destruction, but it would take much longer to erase the last evidence of the attacks. Maybe a lifetime, for those who lost loved ones that evening, and there were many who had lost wives, husbands, and children. Listening to conversations in taverns and inns, it seemed as though everyone at least knew someone who had died, and most had far more personal tales to tell.

Around the cliffs and harbour, many new warehouses and loading stations had sprung up within weeks of the fire, and the merchants’ quarter looked much like it always had. Not even a city-wide disaster could interfere with the merchants, it seemed, and Lucius suspected more than a few had made a great deal of money in the rebuilding, and were silently thanking the tragedy.

“You are still an easy man to find,” a voice called out behind him.

Turning around, he forced a smile as Adrianna climbed the last few stairs that led up to the tower’s roof. Though her hair had begun to grow back, her face would remain a network of burn scars. There was no doubt that it marred her beauty, but Lucius could see something of a change had come about the Shadowmage since the great fire and he suspected she no longer cared for something so trivial as beauty.

Her shoulder would eventually heal, but her left arm was still bound up in a sling, and he had noticed Adrianna still winced whenever she moved too quickly, or brushed her arm against something. There was some comfort to be had in seeing that she was still human.

They had never spoken of the evening of the great fire, nor of the death of Elaine. Neither wanted to pick at old wounds.

Lucius believed Adrianna somewhat unhinged. At first, he had hoped her madness held at its root some measure of shame for the atrocities she had committed, but it seemed there was no room in her heart for mere mortal conscience. She had become drunk on the power she now wielded with such finesse, and was a dangerous person to know.

For his part, Lucius had buried his feelings for Adrianna, both good and bad, deep down. There was simply too much at stake now, and while the sun seemed to be rising on his city, he had vowed not to rock the boat between the guilds. Either way, he had resolved to be very, very wary around her.

He suspected she knew this, and that it amused her.

“I was not trying to hide,” he said, gesturing to the battlements, indicating that she should join him.

As she walked over to view the city alongside him, Adrianna smiled, creasing the scars that ran across her cheeks.

“Just as well,” she said.

Turning to follow her gaze north, Lucius watched the crowd gathered in the Square of True Believers, spilling out into the North Way towards the city gate. A great column of red marched out of Turnitia, the full weight of the Vos military that had been stationed in Turnitia, along with its assorted officials and hangers-on. The people of the city were respectful in their farewells to the soldiers that had watched over them in recent years, but few were sad at seeing them leave. Some might even have joined the crowd just to make sure the Empire was truly departing.

The day before, the Preacher Divine had made another speech in front of the Cathedral, exalting those in the city who followed the Final Faith, and urging them to do God’s will when he left. He had tried very hard to make the retreat of Vos look positive, as though it was in the natural order of things, but nothing could hide the injury that had been done to the Empire or, for that matter, the Preacher Divine himself. The assassins had crippled his right arm, and the best Vos surgeons had been unable to save it.

For better or worse, the combined efforts of Adrianna and the thieves’ guild had made the Empire’s position in the city untenable. Within a week of the great fire, when Vos officials and commanders were still foundering from lack of leadership and the demands of a broken city, Baron de Sousse, up to then a relatively minor lord from Pontaine, had decreed that the rule of the Empire in Turnitia was over, and that he would take the city under the protection of his estates.