Fists of Justice (Schooled in Magic #12)

And one of them didn’t escape, Emily thought. Marian was taken by the Fists.

She gritted her teeth in helpless frustration. Caleb’s description of the raid on Sorcerers Row had been confused, but the attack had clearly come without warning. Marian should have jumped into the escape shaft as soon as all hell broke loose, as her mother had told her to do. Instead, when they’d reached the meeting point, they’d discovered her missing. There had been no way to go back for her before it was too late.

And God alone knows what they’re doing to her, Emily thought. The Fists could use a blood rite themselves, she supposed, but they’d still have problems localizing Sienna and the rest of her family. They might just have decided to sacrifice her.

Sienna swung around to face her. “You said you had something important to tell us.” Her eyes burned into Emily’s. “What?”

“I need to discuss it with everyone,” Emily said, firmly. She didn’t want to tell Sienna everything either, but…she sighed, inwardly. It looked as though the secret of the Mimics was on the verge of getting out too. “Were my chat parchments destroyed?”

“Caleb didn’t have time to grab anything,” Sienna said. “They were probably lost in the flames.”

Emily cursed under her breath. The chat parchments could be replaced, the next time she met up with her friends, but when would that be? Alassa and Imaiqah were in Zangaria, Frieda and the Gorgon were at Whitehall…she had no idea where Aloha was. Maybe she’d have to organize a reunion in Dragon’s Den. She’d meant to show off her house at some point. A sleepover would be fun, perhaps…

She rubbed her eyes as Sienna turned away, pacing the room like a caged tiger. Emily felt sorry for her. Sienna wanted to go rescue her daughter, but the older woman’s training told her it was better to wait and make preparations instead of rushing into what was probably a trap. The Fists of Justice presumably knew who they’d caught. They had to know Marian would make excellent bait.

“It doesn’t matter,” Emily said. “There are some other chat parchments in the bank.”

“Getting word out may help,” Sienna said. “But probably not in time to be useful.”

Emily nodded, slowly. Someone on the outside – perhaps with only a vague idea of what was going on – would be slow to send help. King Randor would be more worried about the theocracy spreading to Zangaria than anything else, while the White Council would need to seek political consensus before dispatching an army of sorcerers and soldiers. And neither of them would know precisely what they were facing. Justice would rip them to shreds.

I might need to get out of the city, Emily thought. Someone has to tell the outside world what’s going on.

She knew that wouldn’t be easy. Hell, she wasn’t sure if escape was possible any longer. The bridges were guarded, she’d been told, and the Gap was sealed. Teleporting wasn’t a possibility as long as Justice’s presence dominated the city. Sienna had warded the dosshouse thoroughly and yet Emily could still feel the presence at the back of her mind. The resistance was already struggling to maintain its numbers with Justice slowly wearing them down. Given time, the Fists would become invincible.

“I’m sorry,” she said, quietly.

“Don’t be,” Sienna said. “This wasn’t your fault.”

The door opened. General Pollack entered, followed by Caleb. They both looked grim.

“It wasn’t him,” he said, shortly.

Emily blinked. “What?”

“Harman didn’t betray us,” General Pollack said. “I poured various potions down his throat and Caleb cast a number of spells. He couldn’t resist us. The questions we asked…”

He sat down, heavily. “He confessed to a number of accounting irregularities,” he added, as he reached for a bottle of wine. “Some voting fraud, some embezzlement…enough to get him a few years in slavery, if he’d been caught a week or so ago. But he wasn’t the one who betrayed us. He was doing what he’d been told to do before I nabbed him.”

“Oh,” Emily said. She’d had been so sure. And yet, in hindsight, she’d known that trouble was coming even without seeing Vesperian’s books. “What…what happens to him now?”

“Right now, he’s throwing up the potions we gave him,” General Pollack said. “He’ll feel like he’s been on a three-day bender for several days to come. And after that…he’ll probably want a little revenge.”

“Blame it on me,” Emily said. Had Janus intended her to draw the wrong conclusion? Or had he merely had a stroke of luck? “I made a mistake.”

“It wasn’t a bad guess.” Caleb looked down at the floor. “You just happened to be wrong.”

“I’ll speak for you, if he does make a fuss,” General Pollack said.

“We have other things to worry about right now.” Sienna sat down at the table, resting her elbows on the hard wooden surface as Markus and Frieda entered the kitchen. They both looked as tired as Emily felt. “Emily, I believe you wish to share some explanations with us…?”

Emily sat down at the table, taking a moment to gather herself. Caleb already knew some of it – although she hadn’t told him everything – but the others didn’t, not yet. She wondered if she dared ask for an oath, yet…she shook her head. They had a right to know what was going on, without her trying to impose rules. Hopefully, they’d understand the need for secrecy.

“It’s a trick,” she said, flatly. “That entity is no god.”

“So it’s a trick,” Sienna repeated. “What is it?”

“It’s…something akin to a Mimic,” Emily said.

She launched into a long explanation, trying to get the idea across without giving too much away. It was probably pointless – her audience was composed of magicians – but she had to try. She told them about the Mimic in Whitehall, about how she’d worked out that it was actually an advanced spell…and how Justice had been designed along the same lines, although with a number of differences. They had to understand what the fanatics had done.

Christopher Nuttall's books