Crimson Fury (Magic of Isskasala Book 2) Page 12

  “I don’t see any point in laying blame on us,” Feko said defensively. “The collectors couldn’t possibly have found them all. The Outpouring was too widespread, Isskasala too vast. One or two of these creatures were bound to avoid detection or flee before the collectors arrived. Two collectors did die during the collection; perhaps that was not the accident we first perceived it to be.” He looked at Tabia as if she were to blame.

  Tabia had to agree with much of what Feko said and inclined her head slowly, with reluctance. “Indeed, finding all of those who absorbed the magic would have been difficult, but did we try hard enough? Did we investigate the sorcerers’ deaths?” She paused and looked around, letting the assembly remember that it had been Benassi who had argued heavily that the deaths were surely accidental and any investigation would have been a waste of time.

  “But I don’t think we’re dealing with one or two stray people who went un-harvested. The girl said—”

  Feko snorted. “You would take the word of a harvested one? You say he can use magic, but I’ve yet to see evidence of this.”

  I what? Darai almost snapped back to his own body. He managed to cling to his immaterial form for a little longer, although the tugging became uncomfortable and more insistent. He wouldn’t be able to sustain it for long. He strained to listen, focusing on that instead.

  “He can spirit drift,” Tabia explained. “It’s possible that he can also air channel. He’s been too unwell to test.”

  “He says he can spirit drift,” Feko said. “Perhaps he was dreaming.”

  “Nevertheless, we should be careful,” Tabia insisted.

  “I agree,” Harshal said. “And Darai does too, don’t you Darai?” The sorcerer looked right at him. Darai winced and slammed back into his body.

  CHAPTER 20

  Darai winced and rubbed his head. When he’d returned to his body, he’d done it with such force he’d hit it on the wall behind him. The guild might kill him eventually, one way or another.

  “Darai?” Adina whispered, a heartbeat before the door swung open and Hashal stepped out, followed by Tabia and a glowering Feko.

  “How did you know?” Darai got to his feet and lowered his hand to his side.

  Harshal grinned. “Lucky guess. Also, I felt something enter and figured if it was dangerous, it would have attacked us.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re not going to attack us, are you?”

  Darai snorted. If he had that kind of control when he spirit drifted—he wasn’t sure what he’d do with it. He certainly wouldn’t strike out at the assembly. He might inflict some damage, but he and Adina would be dead before he could return to his body.

  “Of course not,” he mumbled, his chin to his chest.

  “Going somewhere?” Feko pointed at the bag of food Adina still clutched in her hands.

  “Darai . . . ” Tabia stepped forward between he and Feko. “You can’t leave. We need to—”

  “Find out if I can do magic?” he interrupted. “I don’t want to do magic. I want to go home.”

  “You’re not leaving until you’re harvested,” Feko snapped, all but pushing Tabia aside to grab Darai’s arm.

  He pulled away and stepped back.

  Before he could protest, Harshal spoke, “He’s been harvested. The magula sucked it away.”

  Darai stared at him. “That’s right. There’s nothing left.” He was stupid to have not realised it sooner. He glanced down at his hand. Not even a hint of crimson danced across his skin. Inwardly, he cursed. They should have left when they had the chance. Now that he was free from the magic, they had no reason to keep him alive.

  “That’s not true,” Tabia said softly, making Darai’s head jerk back up. “It can’t be, or you wouldn’t be able to spirit drift. Feko, let me work with him, and Adina. I can find out—”

  “Yes.” Sevele’s commanding tone sounded from the doorway. “Go. Whatever is going on here, those two are a part. Harshal, you help.”

  Harshal nodded and shot Feko a look, which Darai interpreted as triumph. Who needed magula? These people would kill each other given enough time.

  “Come on then,” Harshal said cheerfully. “Don’t worry, this won’t hurt a bit.”

  Darai looked over at Adina, whose eyes were wide with fear. This was his fault. He could have taken them out of here, but he’d stopped to play around with a power he didn’t even want to understand. While he saw no blame in her eyes, he felt it acutely.

  ***

  Tabia led the way to her work room, the two harvested ones behind her, Harshal following at the rear. She’d seen the fear on Adina’s face but could only guess at the reason. Did the young woman think they’d be punished for eavesdropping? Under normal circumstances they might have been, but these were far from normal days and these two harvested ones were extraordinary on top of that.

  Oh, they might get a dressing-down for Darai using abilities he wasn’t trained for, and listening in was clearly rude, but neither were anything to be scared about.

  She glanced back over her shoulder as they reached the door. Darai’s expression was guarded. He was a hard person to read. He reminded her a little of Tanatu, a boy she’s known as a child. Both had been naïve, but suspicious of the world. It was easy to be wary when you began to understand how little of life you really knew. She could appreciate that, although she’d seen more of the world than many others. A long time ago, life had seemed terrible and simple.

  She turned back and pushed the door open.

  Her workroom was small, with a window looking out to the mountains, only a small view of the city visible if you stood up close. One wall consisted entirely of shelves, covered with books and several items she’d accumulated on her travels.

  In the centre of the room was a table surrounded by six plain, wooden stools. She gestured for everyone to sit, while she grabbed a small book off the shelf and placed it in the centre of the table. She pulled out a stool for herself and sat.

  “Are you aware that only magic users can see magic?” She fell into the lecturing tone she used when working with students. She caught Harshal’s grin at the change and gave him a side eye-roll.

  “But we can see magic,” Adina blurted out.

  Darai groaned.

  “But we can. I saw it on him when he arrived. And I see others when—”

  Darai hissed and she fell silent.

  Tabia took a breath and let it out slowly, trying to keep the frustration from showing on her face. Had she been so petulant? She recalled being rude to Tarang, but the man had deserved that and more. Just thinking about him brought a bad taste to her mouth. Thank Zuleso the man was long dead, killed at the hand of Tabia’s magic, to prevent a war.

  “If you won’t talk to us, then we can’t help you,” she said evenly. “If you can use magic, you need to be taught before you hurt yourselves, or worse.”

  Adina looked questioningly at Darai.

  He shrugged and slumped lower on the stool. His lower lip stuck out like a petulant child, but apparently he was done trying to keep Adina quiet.

  “We both saw magic,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t see it on him now, not since the magula attacked him. It was like—it sucked it away.” She shuddered.

  “Why hasn’t that happened to her?” Darai asked suddenly.

  Tabia turned to stare at him.

  “In the meeting, you said the magula were people who hadn’t been drained of magic. It drove them crazy. Adina isn’t crazy.” His eyes looked accusing, for some reason Tabia couldn’t fathom.

  It was Harshal who replied. “The collectors bind the magic to you before they bring you here. Eventually it’d become unbound and eat you alive, but for a while it’s safe.” He made the idea sound almost reasonable.

  “So the magula did me a favour.” Darai’s words silenced them all for a few moments.

  Adina broke it by saying, “How long?” in a fearful tone.

  “Long enough,” Tabia replied. “You’re per
fectly safe.”

  Darai snorted.

  Tabia ignored him. “Now, we need to discern how you can channel magic.” She took in his blank look. What did people teach their children these days?

  “Every magic user has a conduit to the magic, which usually comes from the earth itself,” she explained. “Harshal is an earth channeller. He uses his staff to draw magic up from the earth. As long as his staff touches the ground, he can use magic. If not his staff, anything made of wood would do.”

  “Even a tree?” Adina asked.

  “Yes,” Harshal said, “but they’re not very portable.” He gave the young woman a wink.

  “You don’t have a staff,” Darai pointed to Tabia.

  “No, I can channel right through air, as long as I’m not surrounded by copper.” Another dark memory surfaced. “Copper blocks magic from any magic user.”

  Harshal added, “Some people channel via water. They have to be touching liquid, even if it’s only a small amount, in order to use it.”

  “They’d do no good in the desert,” Darai said dryly.

  “They’re very rare,” Tabia replied. “Harshal has some ability in it, but it’s mostly to stay afloat and keep sea monsters away.” Zuleso, how many more difficult memories was this going to dredge up?

  She pushed the thought aside. “Now, were you touching anything when you spirit drifted?” She watched Darai think before shaking his head.

  “Not really. I was lying on a bed the first time and leaning against a wall the second. Does that matter?”

  Tabia shook her head. “It shouldn’t. Magic usually doesn’t care what position you’re in.”

  “You make it sound like it’s alive.” Adina sounded nervous. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms.

  “It is, in a way,” Tabia agreed. “It’s a part of the earth, like a vine.”

  “Or a parasite,” Darai said bitterly.

  “Sometimes, yes. Now see the book on the table in front of you.” Tabia gestured toward it. It was a slim tome, bound in leather which looked reasonably new. She wouldn’t use an expensive book for this exercise. “Can you lift it?” She held up a hand when Darai went to reach for it with his. “With magic.”

  He drew back his arm. “How?”

  “Focus on the book. Try to sense the magic in the earth, see if it’ll come to you.”

  Darai sighed loudly, then screwed up his face in concentration. A fraction of a second later, a tendril of magic shot up from between the stones at his feet and danced through him. It lunged toward the book and snatched it up, bringing it to Darai’s hand so swiftly he almost missed catching it.

  “Well, that answers that then,” Harshal said. “You’re an air channeller. A powerful one too, by the looks.”

  Darai sat staring at the book, looking both shocked and horrified. “I never wanted this,” he said vaguely.

  Tabia smiled her understanding. “Magic chooses who it chooses. Adina?” She slid the book from Darai’s fingers and placed it back on the table. “We should drain a little magic—”

  “No!” Darai leaped up from the stool and stood in front of Adina, arms outstretched, magic glowing from his fingertips. “You’re not touching her.”

  Tabia exchanged confused looks with Harshal. “It’s perfectly safe. I just don’t want to overload her. It might harm her.”

  “You’ll kill her, like the rest of them,” he insisted.

  “Kill?” Harshal echoed. “What are you talking about?”

  Darai spun toward him. “Draining the magic. Leaving husks behind, or worse.”

  Tabia shook her head, finally understanding the cause of the young man’s fear.

  “We don’t kill people. We drain the magic safely and send them home,” she explained. She could tell from his expression that he didn’t believe her. “We can show you.”

  He moved closer to Adina. “You’re not touching her.”

  “All right.” Tabia raised her hands. “We’ll show you one of the others. Let go of the magic you’re holding, and we’ll go down to the pens. Several harvested are due to be drained anyway.”

  Darai looked ready to refuse, but then the magic disappeared from his body, sliding back down between the floor stones, returning to the earth. He sagged and nodded.

  “Fine, but if you hurt them, her, or try to hurt me, remember I know how to draw magic now.”

  Tabia returned his nod and resisted a shudder. He was powerful enough and untrained enough to destroy them all before even he knew what he was doing. She’d have to tread carefully.

  CHAPTER 21

  “Are you sure about this?” Harshal whispered. They stood on the opposite side of the room from Adina and Darai, but not what would be a safe distance if Darai lashed out. “A cell would—”

  “No,” Tabia interrupted. “That’s what he’d expect of us.” The cells were lined in copper, which would cut him off from the magic, but break the tentative trust she’d been trying so hard to build with him. She wasn’t certain why it was so important to her. Perhaps he reminded her too much of herself at that age, naïve and scared. He wasn’t a slave, but he was still a captive of sorts. Until he could control the magic, he couldn’t be allowed to leave.

  “We have to respect them both,” she added softly, smiling over at Adina. Her fear was all too apparent, but she was more receptive than Darai. The magic danced around her, flaring around her face like a halo. Tabia would ask to remove it as soon as Adina knew it was truly safe. She doubted the girl would be as powerful as Darai, but finding a new sorcerer was always cause for celebration.

  “Here we go.” She nodded to the doorway as Feko brought in a young child. He held the little boy—he couldn’t have been more than seven—by the hand. The boy looked up at the sorcerer in awe. Some found the removal daunting, but he looked positively excited. Tabia smiled at his response until she caught Darai frowning at her from across the chamber.

  Her eyes met his and held them until he looked away. He might be powerful, but he wasn’t even an official apprentice yet. He’d learn the importance of rank and respect—well, rank at least. Respect came harder to many sorcerers, who often seemed to think themselves above normal people.

  Her mind returned to Tarang and then to Efea and her sisters. Sometimes privilege and power came without magic and that was just as easy to wield and abuse. Which came first, she wondered, the power or the desire to abuse it? Either way, she was conscious not to overstep with anyone, regardless of their station in life, but she wouldn’t be intimidated.

  Her attention was drawn back to Feko when he sat the child down in a circle of stones which had been set in the floor. The boy tucked his bare feet beneath himself.

  Strictly speaking, they weren’t essential to the removal, but they helped give the guild its mystique. In actual fact, it was the gaps between the stones which were important. As she watched, she could see the magic tugging downward, trying to escape toward the earth. Between the boy’s body and the binding the collectors had put in place, it could only wriggle in anticipation.

  Feko rose and stepped back, his hand on his staff, eyes intent on the boy.

  Tabia’s eyes flicked back to Darai. Adina had a hand on his arm as if to restrain him. His hands were curled into fists. He made a step toward Feko as magic snaked out from his staff toward the boy.

  “No!” Darai surged toward Feko. Adina tried to hold him back.

  Feko’s magic snapped the bonds around the little boy’s magic and sucked it like a hand pulling on a fine net. It resisted at first, but soon surrendered, tugging away bit by bit. The boy giggled as if tickled by the magic, and then it was gone, sucked down between the stones and disappearing back into the earth.

  Feko released his magic and stood back.

  “He’s still alive.” Darai looked down at the boy, who grinned at him.

  “Of course he’s alive, fool,” Feko snapped. “He’ll be on his way home in the morning.”

  The boy looked disappointed, but he got to his
feet and skipped out of the room at a gesture from Feko.

  “Young lady, you’re next. Take off your shoes.” Tabia started as Feko addressed Adina. That hadn’t been a part of the plan. It was typical of Feko to take the matter into his own hands. Tabia couldn’t disagree that it needed to be done. Maybe not like this, and right now, but if Adina was willing . . .

  “You don’t have to do this.” Darai grabbed her arm and turned her to face him. “They can’t make you do it.”

  Adina saw the worry in his eyes, and understood the reason for it. He’d had a simple life before the Outpouring. Now nothing was simple. Their whole lives had been flipped upside down like pan bread, and Darai had experienced the worst of it. When she found him in the courtyard after the attack, she was sure she’d lost him. Rather than make her fearful, it made her want to embrace life and live it as best she could. She couldn’t be scared anymore. It was her time to step forward and be strong.

  She shook her head. “I want to do it. You saw how it was for that boy, it was nothing.” Her voice sounded surprisingly even, given the flutter of nerves she was suppressing.

  “What if it’s a trick?” He tried to make his expression stony, but there was something unsettling in the way his mouth drew into a line. She knew he wanted no part of magic or sorcerers. She also knew that he had no choice but to stay and learn to be one, at least for a while. If he didn’t, he’d die, or accidentally kill someone. Perhaps that realisation hadn’t sunk in yet, but it would, and he’d be bitter until he accepted it. No doubt he’d resist that for as long as he could. The young man was more stubborn than a mountain made of stone.

  He was scared, she knew that, and all she could do was to try to allay his fears. Subjecting herself to the removal could go a long way toward that. Once he saw she was safe, he might understand that no one was trying to kill either of them.

  She gave him a reassuring smile, and hoped he couldn’t tell how nervous she actually was. It had also crossed her mind that it might have been some sort of trick, but she’d have to trust the gods that it wasn’t. Besides, she liked and trusted Tabia. The woman seemed to be genuinely concerned with their welfare, whether they were magic-users or not. Feko was merely concerned with doing his job. That was well and good, he needed to be focused so he’d do it right, although he’d probably done enough removals to do it in his sleep.