The Cunning Man, page 30
“I ...” Lilith squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry the day was ruined.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Adam said. Lilith wouldn’t have set out to kill anyone. It occurred to him to wonder, just for a second, if Jasper had known what would happen when the boiler exploded. Would he have known? Adam wasn’t sure. It was hard to imagine someone living in such ignorance, yet he knew apprentices who’d gotten themselves hurt through ignorance. “I just wish ...”
“Don’t worry about it,” Lilith told him. “Next time, we’ll go somewhere else.”
Adam’s heart leapt, just as the university came into view. The stream of students was slowing as they passed a lone figure standing at the doors ... he frowned, inwardly, as he saw the Gorgon. That was odd. It was rare to see the Gorgon so far from her mistress. She was normally so close rumour insisted they shared a room.
Which is probably untrue, Adam thought. The Gorgon either has a room of her own or sleeps with the other female magicians.
He put the thought out of his mind as they reached the door. “You are to go straight to the dorms,” the Gorgon said, in a tone that suggested she’d repeated the same thing time and time again. “Do not leave until breakfast, tomorrow morning. Anyone caught outside will regret it.”
Adam nodded, trying to hide his shock. There was no curfew at Heart’s Eye. They could come and go as they liked ... not any longer, apparently. Lilith pulled him indoors before he could say a word, leading him towards the stairs. The air felt surprisingly quiet. It felt ... eerie. He was tempted to wonder if they’d walked into the wrong building. If they had ...
“It’s just like school,” Lilith said. She squeezed his hand, then let go. “And you don’t want to be caught out after dark.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Adam said, taking the hint. “And I’m sorry about ... about everything.”
Lilith said nothing for a moment, then frowned. “Wash your clothes carefully,” she said, as she turned away. “Blood can be very dangerous. You should know that by now.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Adam wasn’t sure what he’d expected, as he returned to the dorm, showered to wash the blood away and headed to bed, but the sense of simmering anger surprised even him. No one doubted it had been sabotage, no one doubted that Jasper - or one of his cronies - had cast a spell to burst the boiler at the worst possible time; no one doubted, worst of all, that he’d get away with it. Adam hoped that wasn’t true, but he feared the worst. He’d heard horror stories about steam accidents, about engineers and craftsmen who’d been killed or mutilated, yet ... they’d known the job was dangerous when they’d taken it. But the people who’d gathered to watch the locomotive make its way down the track hadn’t gathered to die.
He shuddered as the talk grew darker, promising bloody revenge if the university staff failed to bring a hammer down on Jasper’s head. The bastard deserved to die. Arnold ran off a hundred ideas for rune-powered magical mayhem, each one more impractical than the last. Adam forced himself to think, to come up with something new. Lilith might not have shared the secret of the filtering spell, but someone else might have had the same idea. It wasn’t as if magicians were stupid. Once they realised what they were facing, they’d start looking for countermeasures.
We need to teach them a lesson, he thought, as he drifted off to sleep. And this time the lesson has to stick.
He felt no better, the following morning, as they made their way into the common room, where they met the girls to walk down to breakfast. The university felt ... wrong, the corridors no longer bustling with life. Half the student and staff body hadn’t been anywhere near the town and yet ... he shivered as he heard the rumours being whispered from person to person, the death toll growing with every repetition. He hoped, despite everything, that the story would eventually become impossible to believe. The entire town had not been slaughtered in the blink of an eye.
“He’s there,” Arnold growled, as they entered the dining room. “Do nothing. Wait.”
Adam gritted his teeth as he saw Jasper on the far side of the room, tucking into a large plate of sausages and eggs as if he didn’t have a care in the world. The magician had killed thirty people - it dawned on him the death toll might be higher now - and yet he was chomping his food as if ... it struck Adam, suddenly, that Jasper’s table manners definitely suggested a lower-class upbringing. Lilith ate slowly and daintily and kept her mouth shut between bites. Adam had to smile, despite remembered horror. If he’d eaten with his mouth open, his mother would rapidly have taught him the error of his ways. Jasper was probably from a farm in a distant country. He should have been a Leveller, not one of their enemies.
The hall filled rapidly. Adam hastily collected a tray of food, then sat with the others to eat. Staff patrolled up and down the tables, their eyes promising harsh punishment to anyone who dared so much as cast a single offensive spell. Or throw an orb. Arnold had told him that the Levellers were already brewing their own durian gas, mating it with orbs so they could take down any magicians who threatened them. He’d urged Adam to come up with something new, something to use to take their enemies by surprise. So far, Adam hadn't found anything ...
The smell is a dead giveaway, he thought. There’s no mistaking the stench. The moment they smell the gas, they’ll cast filtering spells ...
His mind raced. Gas took effect quicker than a potion, although the gap seemed to be measured in minutes rather than hours. It also seemed to wear off quicker. And that meant ... what? Lilith might have caught a sniff of the gas and barely had enough time to cast the spell before the gas took effect, giving her a chance to recover from what little she’d smelled. His blood ran cold. The gas could have easily kept her powerless long enough to ... a thought struck him. It might just work.
A chime rang through the air. Silence fell. Adam looked up. Mistress Irene stood at the front of the hall, flanked by Yvonne and Praxis. Nearly everyone in the university was crammed into the dining hall. He spotted Lilith, looking uncomfortable as she sat alone, isolated from both magicians and mundanes. He wanted to go to her, to show her she wasn’t alone, but he knew both sides would see it as treason. His heart twisted in pain. What could he do?
Mistress Irene cleared her throat, loudly. “Yesterday, a serious incident occurred in Heart’s Ease,” she said, as if the audience didn’t already know what had happened. “The incident was followed rapidly by a riot, the combination of which led to the deaths of forty-seven people and over two hundred serious injuries. It is no exaggeration to claim that many of the people wounded in the incident would have survived, if the riot hadn’t made it impossible to treat them. I am not amused.”
She let the words hang in the air, then looked at Praxis. “Your report?”
Praxis clasped his hands behind his back as he spoke. “We have examined the remains of the steam engine. We found no traces of sabotage. There were no hints that any kind of magic was involved. Precisely what caused the explosion is yet to be determined, but it is possible - perhaps even probable - that there was a mistake in casting and the boiler couldn’t stand up to the strain. There is no evidence, in short, to suggest the whole affair was anything more than an unfortunate accident, although investigations are still ongoing. And I am prepared to swear an oath to that effect.”
Mistress Irene nodded to him, then cleared her throat again. “I do not want to see such chaos again, full stop. We have chosen to tolerate a limited degree of friction amongst the different groups here. That tolerance does not extend to a bloody riot that cause injuries and deaths. If something like that happens again, in Heart’s Ease, the people responsible will be summarily expelled, after which they will be formally charged with whatever crimes they committed and punished accordingly. There will be no further warnings. Is that clear?”
Her eyes swept the room. “Do not try me on this,” she warned. “This is the one and only warning you’re going to get.”
She turned and left the room, followed by the staff. Arnold stood and motioned for the others to follow him, before anything could happen. Adam rose, aware - somehow - of Lilith staring at his back as they walked through the door. He wanted ... he wasn’t sure what he wanted. She didn’t fit in with either group ... neither did he. And ... he didn’t want to leave the others. It felt good to be accepted, even if ...
“She was wrong,” Arnold said, flatly. “Did you see who she picked to assure us it was an accident?”
“Praxis isn’t a bad guy,” Taffy said. “Yvonne wouldn’t be in a relationship with him if he was a bad guy.”
“He didn’t have time to do a proper check,” Arnold pointed out. “I saw them putting the steam engine together. They checked and rechecked everything. There were no mistakes.”
“Accidents happen,” Greg said. He was a short dark man, wearing a simple robe. “It could have been simple bad luck.”
Arnold shook his head. “They don’t ever bring the boiler up to full power in front of a crowd,” he said. “Too great a chance of something going wrong. They lit the fire in the box and heated the boiler days ago, just to make sure everything worked. If there was a mistake, it would have exploded then ... not in the open, in front of a gawking rabble. Jasper cast a spell, exploded the boiler and got away with it. It cannot stand.”
Taffy nodded in agreement. “So ... what do we do?”
Adam felt his thoughts churning. He didn’t have any real feelings about Praxis, but he liked and respected Yvonne. It was hard to believe a mature woman, with wealth and power in her own right, would put up with an asshole. Hell, Praxis was an enchanter. He’d have no trouble finding a partner, someone willing to bear his children. It was astonishing how great wealth and power could make up for a complete lack of looks and charm and Praxis, to be honest, wasn’t exactly ugly. He wouldn’t have been with Yvonne if he hadn’t had real feelings for her.
He stared down at his hands. Arnold had a point. Very few people would put a steam engine through its paces in public, not before they’d tested everything in private. And yet ... his thoughts ran in circles. If Praxis had lied ... would he lie? Mistress Irene might have ordered him to lie ... she certainly hadn’t forced him to swear an oath. Would she lie, to keep the university from turning into a battleground? Adam wasn’t sure what he would have done, if he’d been in that place. Tell a lie or ...
Jasper isn’t stupid, Adam thought. He might have found a way to do it that didn’t involve magic ... enough magic to be noticed. Subtle magic?
It was impossible to be sure. The idea sounded insane. Jasper’s blood was as magical as Lilith’s ... he couldn’t use his blood for power. But that wouldn’t stop him. He could buy or simply take blood from someone in town, if he wished. And yet ...
Did he intend to injure or kill people? Adam didn’t know. Some magicians went out of their way to avoid learning anything about mundane technology. Didn’t he realise what would happen?
Arnold tapped his shoulder. “Are you listening to me?”
“I was wondering how he did it,” Adam said. “If Praxis wasn’t lying ...”
“He was either wrong or was under orders to lie,” Arnold said, flatly.
Gwen, a girl Adam barely knew, leaned forward. “Maybe the staff thinks they can deal with Jasper without causing more problems.”
“Too late,” Arnold said. “We need to teach them a lesson. How do we do it?”
“More gas,” Greg suggested. “Render them powerless, then beat the shit out of them.”
Adam shook his head. “That trick won’t work twice,” he said. “The ones who breathe the gas first will scream a warning, directing the rest to protect themselves ...”
The thought he’d had earlier crystallised into a workable concept. “I’ve had an idea,” he said, slowly. “It won’t kill them, or even do more than inconvenience them, but it will give them a sharp lesson in humility.”
Arnold nodded. “It would probably be better not to kill them. Or even injure them badly enough to keep them from their lectures. What do you have in mind?”
“Something clever,” Adam said. He stood. “Let me go see if I can find the supplies I’ll need.”
“Wait,” Arnold said. “What do you want to do?”
“I have an idea,” Adam said. He explained, quickly. “It should work.”
“It isn’t that good an idea,” Arnold said. “It won’t impress them.”
“It should.” Adam took a breath. “First, it will knock them down a peg or two without actually hurting them, which will make it harder for them to retaliate. Second, we won’t be introducing anything new, which will keep them from arguing we’re cheating in some way. And third, it will follow the grand tradition of pranks in magic schools.”
Arnold smiled. “I knew it was a good idea befriending you.”
Adam smiled back, feeling welcome for the first time in far too long.
He had second thoughts almost as soon as he stepped out of the dorm. Master Landis would not be pleased if he figured out the truth ... the thought of crossing Mistress Irene was terrifying. It was hard to believe, after everything that had happened only a day ago, that anything would be dismissed as a harmless prank. And yet ... Adam was sure Jasper had played a role in the explosion. Hell, he’d certainly been responsible for the painful transfiguration. Teaching him a lesson was important, whatever the risk. Who knew? Mistress Irene might be impressed with his ingenuity.
The building still felt different, almost unfriendly, as he made his way to the lab. There was no sign of Master Landis or Lilith or even the students who carried messages from place to place. He spotted Master Dagon in conversation with an older man Adam didn’t recognise, speaking in hushed voices as they walked down the corridor. They looked as if they were planning something ... Adam shivered, wondering if they were about to suggest moving the mundanes out of the building. It would be one step closer to keeping them out completely.
Lady Emily would never agree, he told himself. She’d tell the Old Boys to go into the desert and get hopelessly lost.
He opened the door into the lab and stepped inside. The air was cold and still. He’d wondered if Lilith would be inside, but the chamber was empty. He hurried to the storage cupboards and snatched up a handful of vials, making a mental note to replace them as soon as possible. Master Landis might not notice they were gone - he’d charged Adam and Lilith with keeping the stocks as high as possible - but there was no point in taking chances. Lilith probably wouldn’t rat him out ...
Or would she, if she knew what we were doing?
Adam tried not to think about it as he picked his way back to the dorms. Arnold and Taffy were waiting for him in the common room, the others remaining in the dorms themselves even though it was a Sunday. The two apprentices frowned in confusion as Adam put the vials on the table and started to mix them together, ending with a hint of durian essence. Taffy recoiled, looking sick. Adam didn’t blame her. It was such a stomach-churning stench he was surprised that Arnold didn’t show any reaction. Maybe he was used to terrible smells.
“All right,” Arnold said. “What is that?”
“I did it perfectly,” Adam said, as he added water to the powders. The stench grew worse. “There’s just one slight problem. I don’t have a spark of magic to trigger the spell.”
“So, use charged blood,” Arnold said. “You have some, don’t you?”
“It wouldn’t work,” Adam said. “The potion hasn’t been modified to allow me to make it myself, but ... all it needs is a spark of magic. The smell shouldn’t change the potion in any way, yet ...”
Arnold smirked. “It’ll make them panic.”
“Yep!” Adam allowed himself a smile as he poured the liquid into two containers and put the lids firmly in place. “They’ll panic and cast a spell to shield themselves from the durian and trigger the potion.”
He passed one of the containers to Arnold, then frowned. “We’ll need three people,” he said. “Call Greg and ...”
Taffy snorted. “What am I? A frog?”
“You might be if they get their hands on you,” Adam said. “You might be lucky if that was all they did to you.”
“I know the risks,” Taffy snapped, resting her hands on her hips. “I didn’t come here because I wanted to be safe!”
Arnold put a hand on her shoulder. “Adam and I will carry the potion,” he said. “You can carry the runes to open their common room.”
Adam sighed inwardly, pushing a handful of runic tiles into his pocket. The issue had been decided ... he just hoped Taffy would have the sense to run, if the plan failed spectacularly. Jasper could make her clothes fall off or ... no, he wouldn’t do anything so merciful. He’d do something a great deal worse. Adam tried to think of an argument that would convince Taffy to stay behind, but nothing came to mind. She wouldn’t back out any more than he would ...
You could just have kept your mouth shut, he told himself. No one would have known.
He frowned as they headed for the door. “What do we say if we’re caught?”
“We’re going for a threesome in a privacy room,” Arnold said. “It’s so dumb everyone will believe it.”
Adam wasn’t so sure - he couldn’t imagine anything involving both a privacy room and a jar of foul-smelling liquid, but he kept his thoughts to himself. The magicians’ dorm was firmly closed, the door covered with nasty-looking warning signs. Arnold passed the jar to Taffy, then leaned against the door. Adam half-expected him to be zapped the moment his ear touched the wood. The magicians had to be inside ...
“There’s at least five in there, judging by the voices,” Arnold said. “Get in, throw the liquid, get out.”
He took back his jar, then nodded to Taffy. She threw the modified rune at the door. There was a flash of light, the door falling inwards and crashing to the floor. Adam ran forward, spotting seven magicians gathered around the table. Jasper stared at them in shock. Adam threw the contents of the jar at them - Arnold threw his a second later - then darted backwards as they started to cast spells. There was another flash of light, followed by a series of fart sounds. Adam laughed as they turned and ran. It wouldn’t take long for the magicians to realise they hadn’t lost their powers at all ...
