Mastery Ch. 16
Author's Note: I can tell I'm getting some mixed reactions on that last chapter. I'd say I'm sorry, but I'd by lying :P Here's a bit of resolution. Next week goes back to sexier times, I promise. Thanks for reading!
#####
The sound is deafening. There's shouting from the crowd, from the guards, even from the other Crux wizards. I wince and resist the urge to cover my ears, though I tighten my grip on Garrett's hand. His shaking has turned to a visible tremor as the blood drains from his face, making his grey skin ashen.
Arlon walks over to Allisande and puts a hand on her shoulder. Though I can't make out what she says, she sags with relief at the sight of him. Arlon turns towards the guard she had been arguing with. Terse words are exchanged, and I see a few of the guards turn a collective glare onto Garrett.
"-are not dropping this shield until this crowd disperses, captain!" Arlon shouts, his voice cutting over the din. "I don't care how long it takes. He will go willingly once it is safe to do so."
The head guard purses her lips before turning to the man at her side and muttering an order. He nods and starts issuing orders to the others, directing the city guards to gently disperse the crowd. All the while, Arlon and the captain stare each other down, neither of them speaking.
Garrett's ragged breaths start to even out as the crowd breaks apart. Finally, Arlon gives the order. "Drop the shields."
"It's alright," I say as I feel Garrett tense. It feels like he's braced to run. "It's okay."
He lets out a long breath as Arlon and the captain approach. "Hands out," the captain orders, pulling out a pair of heavy metal manacles. Garrett obeys without a word, his eyes downcast.
"This is unnecessary," Arlon says. "I have his spells. I assure you, he will go willingly."
The captain ignores him as she locks the manacles around Garrett's wrists. "Will you two also go willingly?" she asks and looks pointedly from me to Arlon. She must see the muscle in Arlon's jaw jump, because she ads, "For questioning. We need to understand what went on here before we can determine what will happen next."
"Of course," Arlon says with a small nod. "Give me a moment with my wizards." He doesn't wait for an answer before he motions me to follow him and calls the others around. Everyone huddles close, looking just as concerned and confused as I feel.
Arlon holds up a hand to stop the flood of questions that threaten to break loose. "I will explain everything once the dust has settled. Until then, I need you all to return to the Crux. Allis, get with Alix, and find Paulette. You three are in charge until I return, and you are to lock down the Crux. I want no one coming or going. Understood?"
Allisande looks pale, her eyes wide. "Yes, of course," she says. "How... long will you be gone?"
Arlon sighs, and his answer makes my stomach twist uneasily. "I don't know." He shakes his head. "This much is clear - Lucien and Jaret have escaped, and Diran used one of our own to do it. It's no coincidence that Diran targeted a full master of the Crux to do his bidding. This was meant to hurt us and our standing with Straetham." He goes to run his hand through his hair, sees the bloody mess it is and lets it fall back to his side with a grimace. "So for now, we need to regroup and lay low. I will do everything I can to mitigate this."
#
We're taken to the nearest guardhouse, which happens to be the castle keep. Neither Arlon or I are cuffed, but the guards follow us close enough that I expect to feel a spear in my back if I so much as graze my spell necklace. Doesn't help that one of them is the asshole that was guarding the gate the time Arlon sent me up to the palace.
My heart's thudding a rapid pace inside of my chest, but Arlon puts his uninjured hand on my shoulder. "It's alright," he says. "We're all on the same side." Garrett's drawn expression tells me he's doubting that sentiment pretty hard right now.
We're brought inside of the keep, and to my alarm, are led to different rooms. Arlon catches my eye and gives a short nod before he's led down the opposite hall.
The room I'm deposited in is little bigger than a closet. It's empty other than a couple of chairs. My nerves are buzzing to much to sit, so I pace. My scarf and Diran's focus are still clutched tight in my hand, and I don't dare let go of it.
Time seems to slow to a crawl. I want to peek down the hallway to see what's going on, but when I check the door, it's locked. That sure doesn't make me feel any better, but I'm too tired for my nerves and adrenaline to keep up. When they wear off, I'm left feeling drained and exhausted. I finally sit, and it's suddenly all I can do to keep my eyes open.
A minute later, the lock clicks. I jump back to my feet as the door opens. It's just my luck that it's the asshole who comes in and shuts the door behind him.
"Have a seat," he says.
I'm too tired to consider refusing, so I sit. I lean back, crossing my arms over my chest. The guard sits across from me before taking off his helmet and setting it next to him. Without it on, he's actually rather handsome, even if he looks about as tired as I feel. White skinned, short black hair and that distinctive dimpled chin that had allowed me to pick him out from the others.
"What's your name?" he asks.
"Dominai."
"Just Dominai?"
I know he's trying to out me as a bastard or the peasant I am so I just tilt my head and grin. "Master Dominai, if you'd like."
A bit of color rises to his pale cheeks, and I blink. Fucking hell - never thought I'd be the one to make others blush, but maybe I do have that effect on people. My grin widens, and it only seems to fluster him more. He looks away.
"I need to hear what happened in your own words," he says. "Start from the beginning."
I tell him everything. In spite of the locked door, we're supposedly on the same side, so there's no reason to try and lie. I'm not great at lying anyway. But as I talk, it's obvious by the look on his face that he doesn't believe me.
"As soon as I cast the spell, he snapped out of it," I say. I worry the scarf between my fingers. I don't want to, but I peel the layers aside to show him Diran's focus. "This is part of what was controlling him. A spell made by Diran Barclay."
He leans forward to get a better look. "And how did he get in possession of this?" the guard asks. And I must be tired, because then he reaches out and grabs the damn thing before I can close my fist to stop him.
The effect is instantaneous. The guard jerks back, clutching the focus to his chest. When he looks up, his eyes flash with hatred. He lunges for me, his free hand going for my throat.
My own flies to my spells - can't be said I don't learn from my mistakes. A focus flashes out as I command, "Drop it!"
The guard's fingers open, and yellow focus tumbles out of his grip. It bounces against the stone floor and rolls away from us. He blinks and looks down, eyes wide with surprise when he finds his hand around my neck and his knee pressed between my legs. I follow his gaze and give a wry grin. "Usually I at least know the name of the person grabbing my throat."
He staggers back into his own chair, face flushed hot red, though some well-warranted fear colors his embarrassment this time. "T-the fuck was that?" He's looking at the focus like it might bite him. I doubt it will, but better safe than sorry.
"Enchantment and divination," I say. "And strong enough that even the grandmaster didn't want to touch it." I toss him my scarf. "Maybe use that to pick it up next time. I wasn't carrying it wrapped up to keep it warm."
The guard catches my scarf as he eyes me warily. I bet it's a bit jarring to be on the receiving end of a command spell. I'll have to cast that one with Ambra again. It's proven pretty damn useful.
"Thanks," he says before he clears his throat. He crosses his arms over his chest, but under all those ruffled feathers, I see that he's finally starting to believe what I've been saying. "How did he get it?"
"He didn't get it. It was forced on him," I say. "He's a corpimancer. Was in the Reach helping with the aftermath of an earthquake. He was ambushed on the road home."
"Or so he says."
"Look, I just learned that Garrett's the king's own fucking physician," I say, my patience wearing thin. Today has worn me the hell out, and this guy's keeping me from a warm bed back at the Crux. "You think anyone that's allowed at the bedside of royalty could just snap and level a city square?"
The guard opens his mouth, thinks twice about it, and thankfully shuts it. He eyes the focus before he takes my scarf and carefully folds it over. He uses it to scoop the glowing focus up and says, "I need to show this to the captain."
"Be my guest." I jab a finger at the focus. "But I'm not letting that thing out of my sight." I'm still new to this whole dealing-with-the-authorities business, but I have a feeling Arlon would frown at me letting someone take a spell like that without supervision.
The guard looks me over before he hands me the whole bundle. It seems like he's glad to be rid of it. I can't blame him, Seeing what it can do is bad enough, yet I don't want to imagine what Diran must have done to create it. "Come on, then. You can show her."
Even if he's an ass, at least he's not stupid. I fold the parcel up again before I follow him out the door. "I never did get your name."
His eyes flash briefly to mine. "Nikolai."
#
We find the captain in the main room of the keep. Fortunately, Arlon's with her, and I relax a little. He finds my eyes, and I see that same relief reflected on his face. The captain turns, and it's only then that I realize they're not alone.
King Thermilious looks up as we approach, a frown on his face. He's dressed plainly today. There's no crown or circlet on his head, and without it, I was almost able to overlook him. He's wearing a comfortable but finely made shirt and breeches under a well tailored coat to keep out the cold. "You have the spell?" he asks.
"Yes, your Majesty." I step forward and pull the scarf back for him to see the glowing little yellow eye.
The king reaches out like he wants to touch it. I pull it away even as Arlon and Nikolai take a step towards him.
"Please, don't touch it, Sire," Nikolai says, voice strained.
"He's saying that because he already did, Sire," I say and meet Nikolai's glare with an apologetic grin.
Thermilious pegs the guard with a hard look. "And what did it do?"
Nikolai shifts under the scrutiny. He can't quite look at me when he says, "It... made me feel like I wanted to kill him. I may have if Master Dominai hadn't made me drop it."
Thermilious frowns down at the focus. "When I heard it was Garrett that had attacked the square, I didn't believe it," he mutters.
"Because it wasn't him, Sire," Arlon insists. "This is the wizard that crafted a spell to heal you of the fever that took your father. The same one who works himself to the bone to heal, not destroy! You know as well as I do that he's not capable of this."
"Your Majesty, I think it would be wise to keep Master Garrett here," the captain says. "He helped two dangerous wizards escape in front of half the city."
"He was with us when we brought in Lucien and Jaret," Arlon snaps, his patience also wearing thin. "Why would he do that just to free them now?"
"Whether he was influenced or not is irrelevant," the captain says, voice hard. "Master Garrett's actions have sent this city into turmoil. People will trust magic only until they have reason to fear it, and he gave half the city a reason this afternoon. He is a danger. The fact that he's supposedly one of the best the Crux has to offer only shows that they can't handle what they create," she says as she turns her hard gaze to Arlon.
The grandmaster looks like he's been struck but like someone who is used to taking hits, he doesn't flinch. His lips press into a thin, bloodless line. The captain holds his gaze, her expression stony. I don't know what history they have, but now that I know where Arlon came from, I can't help but wonder how far back that history stretches.
Thermilious raises a hand to stop any further argument. "I want to speak to him," he says at last.
The captain's shoulders go stiff before she bows. "As you wish, Sire."
#
The king insists on speaking to Garrett in private. Arlon and I are left with nothing to do but wait. We're put in an only slightly larger room, but at least the door on this one stays unlocked. Arlon paces the length of it, fear etched into the lines of his face. The afternoon looks like it's aged him years.
"Arlon, you should sit," I say. Using his name gets the attention I hoped it would. He stops pacing to look at me. "You look ready to drop." Not to mention his walk is so stiff that it hurts to look at.
He rubs his eyes tiredly. Someone's at least bandaged his hand. Though the execution was supposed to happen at noon, it's far past dinner now. The window in the small room shows that it's dark out. Between the waiting, the questioning and more waiting, we've been here for hours.
Arlon finally relents and comes to join me on the wooden bench. I stand to help him sit. He scowls but accepts my arm, wincing as he lowers himself down, his hand flying to his side.
"I'm getting too old for brawls like that." He leans back with a groan, and I take a seat next to him. It's something like habit that leads me to lean against him. His arm immediately slides around my shoulders, fingers finding my hair. I think we both need the reassurance of touch. I didn't realize how tight I was holding myself until I stop.
"I'm glad you were there," he says.
I shake my head. "I froze. I-I didn't know what to do."
Arlon tilts his head as he looks down at me. "What do you mean?" he asks. "You commanded him to stop."
"I'd forgotten all about my spells," I admit, though my hand finds them now. "I was wanting for my bow. Just wanted it to stop. When I said it, the spell just... went off."
Arlon's hand pauses in my hair. "Curious," he says. "Having a spell in hand is usually a requirement. This fight would have ended very differently if it didn't."
"Glad it didn't wait for me to remember what the hell I'm supposed to do in a firefight," I mutter. "Otherwise-" I can't finish the thought. Don't even want to think it.
But Arlon finishes it for me. "Otherwise I'd be dead." I swallow, but Arlon stops me before I can open my mouth. "You saved my life, Dominai. With that, you saved Garrett's, too." I go to turn my head away, but he knows me well enough to anticipate the deflection and grabs my chin to stop me. "There's a reason he chooses to heal rather than fight. Can't stand the guilt that comes with hurting someone, let alone taking a life. Diran targeting him of all people was just one more cruelty. Have no doubt, you saved two people today."
I swallow the lump in my throat and lean into his hand. I don't know what to say to that, and I'm too tired to try. His fingers continue stroking my hair before he adds, "But remind me to give you a proper lesson on firefighting."
I give a huff of a laugh and turn to kiss his palm. "Thank you."
The door clicks open, and I help Arlon back to his feet. He holds his side with a grimace as he stands. Sweat stands out on his forehead, and I'm starting to worry about how bad his ribs are.
The captain leads Garrett in, and I sag in relief when she unlocks the manacles from his wrists. "The king has declared this a magical matter. Master Garrett is released to the jurisdiction of the Crux."
Garrett takes a staggering step towards us, like he can't quite believe it. His eyes are wide with shock, and it looks like his knees are about to fold from relief. Arlon takes his arm before they can and levels a glare at the captain.
"So long as three conditions are met," she says. "Master Garrett is to be confined to the Crux. A representative of the Crown will assess him weekly until we are convinced that he is free of any lingering enchantment. He will carry no spells until the Crown gives express approval. Once we are convinced that he is as safe as you claim him to be, he'll be allowed to return to his duties in the clinic on probation."
Arlon looks furious but there's no arguing it. He gives a curt nod. "Understood," he says. "Are we free to go?"
The captain's eyes narrow to match his glare. "The king is convinced of his innocence, but I'm not so sure any of you are. I'll be watching, Arlon."
I bristle as Arlon's eyes narrow. He puts a hand on Garrett's shoulder and murmurs, "Let's get the hell out of here."
#
The trip back to the Crux is dark and cold and longer than I ever remember it being. Even though Arlon tries to refuse, Garrett gets an arm around his waist. He's limping bad enough to warrant the extra support, which makes me wonder if he fucked his knee during their fight too.
I lead the way and keep a few lengths ahead of them. It's not quite far enough to miss their quiet conversation. I'm not trying to eavesdrop, but it's hard not to hear.
"What did you tell Thermilious?"
"The truth," Garrett says. "As best as I could remember it. He was understanding." Arlon lets out a quiet huff before Garrett says, "He's more reasonable than you give him credit for."
"He's let you come back to the Crux, so maybe he is," Arlon says. "I'm grateful all the same."
A moment of silence passes between them. "I'm sorry, Arlon."
"Don't," Arlon says, and it's like he was waiting for this. "Don't you dare apologize. This is not your fault."
"Even so, I still fucked things with Straetham," Garrett says. "Diran got exactly what he wanted."
They're quiet for a long moment, and I feel the unanswered questions hanging between them. Finally, Arlon asks, "What do you remember?
"After he jumped me?" Garrett's voice emerges in something like a croak. It's easy to hear how raw he is. It's like the ground has has dropped out from beneath him, and he's just been given the time to realize it. "He drugged me. Beat me. Humiliated me. I-It's fragmented."
"And?"
Arlon sounds hollow, and I know what he's asking. In the second before Garrett answers, my stomach drops, dreading what he'll say. "No," Garrett says. I can't help but let out a quiet breath of relief, but it's short lived. "He didn't have to fuck me to break me. Said he'd never touch a half-breed."
I feel sick. I remember the way Diran's eyes locked with mine in the cave and shiver all over again at the memory of that cold gaze. Arlon is quiet for a long moment.
"I'm going to kill him for this," he says at last. The quiet conviction in his voice chills me.
"And what will that do for us?" Garrett asks, his own gaining an edge. "Captain Thora is about to be the arrow aimed at your back."
"Because of Diran!" Arlon snaps back. "If Thermilious had just let me question Jaret and Lucien, none of this would have happened. We could have found him!" I flinch and pull my cloak a little tighter around me. It's a rare occasion to hear Arlon yell, and I hate the sound of it. "I am sick and tired of Diran being allowed to get away with this by virtue of his godsdamned fucking surname. I am sick and tired of having my hands tied while he's allowed to hurt yet another person I care about!"
Arlon's voice cracks, and their footsteps come to a stop. I glance back to see Arlon yank Garrett into a fierce embrace. "I'm supposed to protect the Crux and everyone in it," he says. "And I'm failing."
Garrett sinks into his arms and lets out a breath. "No, you aren't. Arlon, you promised me you would protect me, and you did. The guard wouldn't have let me out of that square alive if it weren't for you."
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