Hasdrubal's Tale

Chapter Four

I knew, the moment we drew near the shrine.

It was a beautiful spring day in the woods. Birds flew through the trees. Small animals and insects scurried across the ground; bigger animals, the ones that had learnt to fear the sorcerers of the nearby school, fled through the branches or crouched in their dens. The air hummed with magic, spilling out of the nexus point and into the forest…

And yet, the moment we crossed the unseen barrier, we stepped into another world.

Silence fell, so abruptly I thought someone had cast a spell. The forest was so quiet I could almost hear my own heartbeat. The trees seemed dead and cold, frozen forever in a moment of time. I shivered, despite years of experience, as the four of us walked through the trees to the shrine. Wild magic hung in the air, a stench that pressed against our senses and threatened to overwhelm us. No one knew who had built the shrine, or what it had been used for before it had been abandoned, but everyone knew to avoid it. Everyone except us.

“We can’t sleep here,” Hamilcar said, quietly. “Our wards won’t last a night.”

I nodded in agreement. The ruined buildings were decidedly… odd, as if whoever had built them had wanted them angled against reality itself. Strange runes, dead now, were carved into the stone, forming a pattern that nagged at my mind. I couldn’t understand their meaning and yet I had the feeling that, if I stared long enough, I’d be able to comprehend them. Things flickered at the corner of my eye, glimpses of wild magic — and something deeper and darker — that vanished whenever I tried to look at them directly. And yet… another shiver ran down my spine. The urge to turn and walk — or run — was almost overwhelming.

“There’s enough power here,” Void said, with cold satisfaction. “You can feel it in the air.”

“Yeah,” Himilco agreed. “You can smell it on the breeze.”

“What breeze?” Hamilcar looked spooked. “There isn’t a breeze.”

I nodded, keeping my thoughts to myself. The air was dead and cold, as if something had sucked all the life out of it long ago. The sunlight felt… alien, as if we were standing in the shade even though we were in bright daylight. It felt almost like the Blighted Lands, yet the wild magic felt highly concentrated… I reached out with my senses and cursed under my breath. Wild magic pervaded the land, spilling through the ruins and pulsing though the ground… I saw lights flash at the corner of my eye and looked around. They were gone. It was not a safe place.

“This is pretty much our last chance to change our minds,” Hamilcar said, quietly. “Once we take what we need from Whitehall, we’ll be committed.”

“We were committed the moment our uncle made it clear we would never be accepted,” Void said, curtly. “Weren’t we?”

“Yes,” I said. We’d argued for hours, switching between working out the spellware and arguing over the wisdom of what we were doing and then back again, without missing a beat. We’d covered everything, from the risks to the potential rewards if we succeeded. And yet, none of our discussions encompassed the wonder and terror all around us. “We have to make it impossible for them to keep us on the sidelines any longer.”

“Fine.” Hamilcar dumped his pack on the ground and looked around. “Himilco, you go set up the tents. Void and Hasdrubal can help me get started.”

Himilco nodded without taking offense. He was our potions master and his skills weren’t required, not for setting up the ritual. I watched him stride back into the forest — we’d be safe enough sleeping, once we were clear of the shrine — then started to follow Hamilcar as he drew out the first set of wards. It was a difficult task, one that had to be completed with strict attention to detail before we risked charging the wards. If we failed to channel the wild magic, we couldn’t hope to do anything else. There’d be no time to make changes once we started to empower the wards. Any mistakes would force us to stop, erase our work and start again.

I won’t bore you with the details of the wards and supporting charms. We’d based the original work on a standard dissipating charm, one designed to absorb or deflect patches of uncontrolled — or wild — magic, then expanded upon them to summon, trap and ultimately consume a creature from the darkness. It felt terrifyingly fragile, even before we got started, but we’d checked and rechecked the equations until we were sure there were no mistakes, no loopholes a demon could use to escape. We had to be very sure. Demons could see the future. If our captive saw a way out, it would take it.

But the wards will consume the wild magic in the shine, I told myself, firmly. The demon will fall back into the darkness the second it breaks free.

Void grinned at me. “No reward without risk,” he said. “Isn’t that right?”

I suppose I should have said no. But the truth is, we needed it.

We worked until evening — Himilco was dispatched to Dragon’s Den to buy food and drink — and then slept in our tents, returning to the shrine in the morning. Our work had held up well, we decided, but we checked it carefully before continuing to draw out the wards. Wards had a tendency to melt like frost in sunlight, when exposed to wild magic, and we’d feared all our careful work would be undone overnight. It was a relief to discover the damage was minimal. Once the wards were empowered, they’d be fairly safe and secure.

“We have company,” Himilco said, that afternoon. “Someone is coming. They just crossed the outmost ward.”

I tensed, bracing myself for… something. We’d hoped we’d remain unnoticed. The shrine was off-limits to students and the townspeople knew better than to go anywhere near the magical school. The Grandmaster wasn’t known for giving a damn about what his students did when they were in the town, turning a blind eye to everything from minor pranks — a little more serious to a magicless mundane — to outright rape. I glanced at the others as we readied ourselves. We’d have no trouble handling a student, but a professor would be a far harder problem. If they saw enough of our work to realise what we were trying to do, we’d have to go on the run.

The leaves rustled. Grandmaster Boscha stepped into the clearing.

I kept my face under tight control. Boscha was not a nice man. I gave him credit for preserving the school, in the face of storms that threatened to destroy it, but little else. He fawned on well-connected students and sneered at everyone else, risking the strict tradition of neutrality by forging connections with the newborn kingdoms… hell, from what I’d heard, he kept his students and staff from rebelling against them by manipulating the different factions into fighting each other. I believed it. I’d been a student when the charms and potions students, and their tutors, had fought a mini-war in the corridors. The Grandmaster had the power to stop it, in an instant. He’d let it go on and on for weeks.

“Void,” he said. Boscha had never liked Void. The feeling was mutual. “What are you doing here?”

Our magics flickered, threatening to link us together. The Grandmaster was old and skilled and very powerful, but there were four of us and we were powerful as well and if we could take him the entire school would be a far better place… we quashed that line of thought before we threw the first hex. The Grandmaster was not a kind man, and had a disturbing fondness for punishments that made flogging look civilised, but he knew where the bodies were buried. Too many people would unite against us if we struck him down, even though they’d probably be secretly grateful. Bastards. They should have removed the Grandmaster long ago.

“Grandmaster,” Void said. His voice was artfully bland. “We’re conducing an experiment in how to drain wild magic from the tainted ground.”

Boscha raised his bushy eyebrows. “And this experiment has been officially sanctioned?”

“The White Council is very keen to find a way to drain wild magic before it spreads,” Void said. It was technically true. There was a well-known reward for anyone who found a reliable way to cleanse the land. We hadn’t bothered to ask permission, not for the cover story nor the real ritual, but who should we ask? The White Council’s authority was very limited. “We think we can pull it off.”

“I look forward to seeing the results,” Boscha said, after a moment. I knew what he was thinking. If the experiment worked, he could claim the credit by retroactively sanctioning the ritual. If it failed, he could blame it all on us. I had to give Void credit. The cover story was designed to discourage intruders from asking awkward questions. “And I trust” — he looked at me — “that you’ll attend your interview tomorrow?”

I felt a pang of guilt. Professor Bodoh had been looking for an assistant, and a possible successor, for years. I’d written to him, offering to interview. It was odd how quickly he’d written back and agreed. I had no idea why he hadn’t found someone a long time ago. There was no shortage of possible candidates. Perhaps he just wanted someone with no strong ties outside the school. My family would probably be glad to cut me off if I started to work at Whitehall. It was my brothers that might object.

“Yes, sir,” I said. I wasn’t looking forward to working under him. Perhaps that was why Professor Bodoh had so few candidates. “I’ll be up tomorrow morning.”

“Good.” Boscha bowed. “I look forward to seeing the results of your experiment.”

We glowered at his back as he turned and walked away, our thoughts nervous. It would be so easy to curse him now, to stun or kill or… even use him as a sacrifice. Or something. The world would be a better place without him. But cold logic told us otherwise. The Grandmaster had powerful protections, perhaps strong enough to give him a fighting chance or merely win him time to escape. He’d been careful not to step into our wards. I hoped that wasn’t a bad sign.

“Wanker,” Himilco commented. “He hasn’t changed a bit, has he?”

“No,” Void agreed. “But he’ll keep his mouth shut long enough for us to complete the ritual.”

He met my eyes. “We still need a wardstone, though.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I know.”

I made a face. Wardstones weren’t rare, even in those days, but they were astonishingly difficult to produce even for an experienced wardcrafter. Hamilcar was good — and he’d have our help — yet even he didn’t have the skill to craft a wardstone in time to be useful. There was no way to take one from the family too, not without permission. And our dear uncle would ask too many questions before saying no.

And if this fails, we’ll be lucky to escape with our lives, I reflected. We had a plan. We knew what we were doing. But the odds were very much against us. We could wind up in very deep shit indeed.

The following day, Void, Himilco and I made our way to the road and walked up to Whitehall. Hamilcar stayed behind to mind the shrine and check — again — our work before it was too late. It felt weird returning to school after graduating. The students looked terrifyingly young — and just plain terrifying. Some of them were elitist snobs with more power than they knew what to do with, others had only had their first taste of power when they’d entered the school and were intent on making up for lost time. A young girl pointed a finger at us and cast a charm. Void caught it effortlessly and batted it back at her. She melted into a frog and hopped off, croaking loudly. She was lucky. Void had nearly killed a young man who’d thought his family name would let him get away with pretty much anything.

“She’ll get in real trouble if she tries that on someone important,” Void predicted. We walked on, leaving the frog behind. The spell would wear off soon. She’d be safe enough until then. “The Grandmaster won’t protect her if she really crosses the line.”

I nodded, feeling a twinge of discomfort. The Grandmaster let his students get away with a hell of a lot. I knew places where magic was banned and magicians were officially unwelcome — they didn’t have the power to enforce it, although they tried — and part of the reason was that magicians regularly abused their powers. I wondered if the girl was from a magical family, like my cousins, or a commoner doomed to an unhappy life before coming into her magic. It didn’t matter. I heard someone cancel the spell behind us, followed by a sharp lecture. A tutor, probably. I wondered if the silly girl would go straight to the Grandmaster to complain.

And then he’ll give her something real to complain about, I reflected. Boscha didn’t discriminate. He was a petty little sadist to everyone. Even his favourites couldn’t relax around him. She’d be wiser to say nothing and soak up the lesson.

We stood close together, holding hands as we reached the edge of the wards. Our unique nature had always confused them, back when we’d been students. The wards weren’t smart enough to tell us apart, allowing one of us to sneak into the library at midnight while the rest stayed in our beds and pretended the fourth was with us. I don’t think the Grandmaster ever realised just how much sneaking around we’d done, during six years of education. He’d certainly never raised the issue with our guardian.

“Go subtle,” Void muttered, to Himilco. “And don’t get too far from Hasdrubal.”

“Go tell uncle to do some bloody exercise,” Himilco muttered back. “Or something else equally useless.”

I hid my smile as they wrapped themselves in magic and shadowed me, so close I could practically feel their breath on the back of my neck. Invisibility charms were all very well and good, but they weren’t perfect. Once someone got a hint of their presence, particularly a magical someone, their charms would rapidly lose their effectiveness. Obscurification charms worked so much better, particularly if I remained visible. Anyone who spotted a hint of their presence would attribute it to me, instead of two others hidden behind charms. The wards wouldn’t notice anything else. We’d done it often enough, as students, to be sure we’d remain undetected until it was far too late.

A young student met me as we stepped into the main hall. I looked him up and down as he bowed, then pasted a smile on my face. The badge on his robes marked him as a prefect… I hoped he wasn’t one of the prefects who regularly abused his powers. I still had scars from the beating one of those bastards had given me, years ago, and there were times when I wondered if he still had the scars from what we’d done to him. He looked nice and polite, his robes neatly tailored rather than elaborate to the point of ridiculousness, but that was meaningless. I was an older magician. He’d be polite to me on pain of transfiguration.

“Sir,” the student said. He seemed unaware of Void and Himilco. “I am Robin. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to Professor Bodoh.”

I nodded. “Please,” I said. It would be nice to see Professor Bodoh again, even though the interview would be nothing more than a formality. Really, not even that. “Lead on.”

Robin nodded, then lead the way through a maze of corridors. I knew the school like the back of my hand and I had absolutely no trouble telling he was taking us the long way around. I wondered, absently, if he was wasting time on purpose or if he was just playing with us. Prefects disliked serving as guides. They felt such jobs were better given to the younger students. Or so I’d been told. We’d never been prefects ourselves.

“Thank you,” I said, when we reached Professor Bodoh’s office. “You’ll wait outside for me?”

“Yes, sir.” Robin wasn’t practiced enough to hide his displeasure, not from me. I guessed he wanted to get away before Professor Bodoh called him back to guide me out of the school. “I’ll be here.”

“Good man,” I said. I dipped a hand into my robe and pulled out a coin, the charms we’d carefully woven into the gold a dull ache against my fingers. I put on the most condescending tone I could as I held it out to him. “Buy yourself something sweet in the town.”

Robin’s eyes flickered, irritation masked too late. I showed no reaction. His annoyance would make it harder for him to spot the charms. He took the coin and held it as I opened the door and stepped into the office. The other two would wait outside, ready to act as the charms oozed their way into the poor student’s mind. He’d taken the coin willingly. He might as well have dropped all his wards and dared us to curse him into next week.

And now we’ve crossed the line, I thought. Void deflecting a silly girl’s spell back at her was harmless. It would teach her a lesson and nothing more. No one would have blamed him for altering the spell to make it last longer, or simply giving her a public thrashing. Enchanting a student to use him as a cat’s paw was quite another matter. It was a crime. There’s no going back now.