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Engine of Lies ebook Page 4
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He glared back. My stomach tied itself in knots. The Water Office was broken, but interference from the Fire Warlock had inflamed the situation. How many of Frankland’s problems could be traced back to incompetence or negligence in the Fire Guild?
Beorn said, “Putting things off won’t help. Let’s get on with fixing one or the other.”
The Frost Maiden gave him a brilliant smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Echoing my thoughts, she said, “I am glad the new Fire Warlock is willing to set things right, since a Fire Warlock was responsible.”
Jean went livid. “I will thank you, Your Wisdom,” he ground out, “for not insulting the people you are beseeching for help.” He turned on heel and stalked to the door.
She sailed after him. “Jean… Your Wisdom… I did not mean—”
He strode through the door and yanked it closed behind him. I flinched, anticipating a loud slam, but it closed with a mere snick, leaving her staring at it with a rigid posture and splayed fingers.
“I meant Old Brimstone, not Quicksilver,” she said. “I have wanted to make amends, not offer further insults.”
Deep in my chest something burned, unappeased by her distress. Every guild has its secrets, but to have a water witch expose one of ours…
Mother Celeste sighed. “Jean was too quick to take offense, but it’s no surprise, after you sniped at him for so long.” With an arm around the Frost Maiden’s shoulders, she coaxed her back to her seat. “You must be more careful what you say to him.”
“You are right. I realised he would take offense even as I spoke, but I could not dam the flow of words.”
Enchanter Paul said, “Don’t worry. Warlock Quicksilver and I often disagree, but I acknowledge he is both rational and fair-minded. He’ll calm down, and realise what you said isn’t true.”
I must have made some reflexive movement, for my chair scraped on the hard amber floor. Five faces turned towards me. Through clenched teeth I said, “He wouldn’t be so angry if it weren’t true.”
The Frost Maiden’s eyes bulged. “He told you?”
“No, he didn’t have to. It’s in Gibson’s History of the Office of the Fire Warlock.”
“In Gibson’s? Impossible.”
“No one in their right mind would blame Jean, but it infuriates him that he can’t fix the damage his predecessors have done.”
“What damage?” Sorceress Eleanor said. “What are you talking about?”
“The fifty-seventh Fire Warlock, Old Brimstone, was the last from the noble class, and he had no conscience. He told the king he didn’t have to take the Great Oath.”
“Oh, that,” the Frost Maiden said.
“Oh, that?” I echoed.
“Yes, I should have realised what you meant. Before Old Brimstone’s intervention, no one suspected the king did not have to swear to treat all the people fairly. Or, one would hope, the king thought it a good idea. Now the kings know it is not required, and have no interest in taking it.”
“I thought the king found out himself,” Beorn said. “Gibson says it was the Fire Guild’s fault? Drown it.”
I gave him a dark look. “Yes. You should read Gibson, too. You might learn something.”
His disconcerted expression dissolved into a half-hearted grin. “Don’t have time. Besides, I’ve got you and Jean and Sven to tell me what I need to know.”
I glared at him. His grin got broader. I turned back to the Frost Maiden. “But if you didn’t mean that, what did you mean?”
She grimaced. “Old Brimstone was also responsible for the nobles’, er, dirty little secret.”
Sorceress Eleanor flinched. Beorn’s grin vanished. “Oh, my,” Mother Celeste said. “That more than justifies Jean’s fit of temper. Lorraine, dear, you must apologise again. Grovel if you have to.”
“Yes, Your Wisdom, I shall.”
I said, “What dirty little secret?”
A Model Fire Warlock
Everyone in the amber room swivelled to stare at me again. Mother Celeste said, “You don’t know?”
“If I did would I be asking?” I should have waited and asked Jean or Beorn in private. Someday I would learn.
Mother Celeste started to respond, but the Frost Maiden stopped her with a hand on the Earth Mother’s arm. “A moment,” she said, subjecting me to an intense stare. I returned the stare. For an instant, fire blazed in her eyes. I recoiled, shaken, but her gaze was now speculative, and as cool as ever. I couldn’t imagine why I had thought I saw something fevered.
She turned and glanced, first, at Mother Celeste, and then at Enchanter Paul and Beorn. Each, in turn, nodded. “No, Madam Locksmith,” she said, “It is better you not know this secret.”
Was this her idea of a joke? She didn’t smile; her eyes didn’t sparkle. Mother Celeste turned away, shaking her head. Enchanter Paul said, “I must agree with Her Wisdom.” That traitor, Beorn, wouldn’t meet my eyes.
The burning in my chest grew. “You can’t be serious. I have a right to know secrets involving the Fire Guild.”
“Of course you do, dear.” Mother Celeste attempted to sooth, but recognising magic in her voice fanned the flames. “But in this case—”
“In this case even the junior water witch knows something about a Fire Warlock I don’t. That’s not fair.”
“I know,” Eleanor said, “to my sorrow. Be grateful you don’t.”
“But I’m a warlock! I want to know—”
“I am sorry,” the Frost Maiden said, “but we have decided. Paul, shall we continue this meeting or adjourn until another time?”
“If you can’t trust me to keep a secret,” I spat, riding over the Enchanter’s reply, “why do you think you can trust me with unlocking the Water Office?”
She shook her head. “Trust? My dear Locksmith, it is not a matter of trust. You are the very model of a fire warlock: insubordinate, headstrong, nosy, and you take appalling risks—”
The burning in my chest became a bonfire. “I’ve had enough of your insults,” I said, and followed Jean out the door, closing it behind me with a savage little click.
Jean was calling down the lightning from the rim of the volcano. Thunder rumbled across the balcony outside the Fire Warlock’s study, where I danced on coals, sending jets of fire cascading down the mountain wall. If René had seen this display, he would have agreed I could produce a killing attack, when the occasion called for it.
I would learn to call down the lightning on my own, too, to give adequate expression to my rage. Acknowledging I had demonstrated I was, as she said, insubordinate, headstrong, and childish to boot, only added fuel to the fire.
But first I would insist Jean teach me to walk through the fire on my own. What a pitiful excuse for a warlock I was, unable to follow him to the aerie to tell him what had happened.
Members of the Fire Guild, particularly warlocks, have a well-deserved reputation for nursing anger as if they are not whole without it. Jean and I are not typical in that respect—neither of us holds grudges for long, and our rages burn out soon. God help me if I ever did carry a grudge—I had only to study Warlock Flint as an object lesson in what I didn’t want to become. When Jean joined me on the balcony an hour later, we had both regained enough control to talk without spitting sparks.
I said, “She claimed she didn’t want to insult you, and she wasn’t lying. She seemed pretty upset.”
Jean’s eyes flashed. “Giving her the benefit of the doubt is difficult. I came down from the rim because the meeting is over, and Beorn will return soon. Why are you here, my love?”
“She insulted me, too.” My face burned as I related the contretemps over the noble’s secret. His eyes widened. When I finished, he stared into space, frowning.
“Jean, what’s the secret? And why was she rude to me? She owes me something for what I’ve already done… Jean?
… Jean, are you listening to me?”
“I beg your pardon, my dear. Yes, I heard you.” His stare carried an expression of speculation so similar to the Frost Maiden’s that I took a step backwards. For a moment, his eyes were cold and calculating, not those of a hot-blooded fire wizard. Then the moment passed and his eyes were as warm and vital as ever. I must have imagined they had been otherwise.
He said, “Consider other interpretations. The spell that entrapped her may still affect her habits of speech. If we assume she meant no insult…”
“What other interpretation is there? What she said hurt.”
“You are a paragon of a fire warlock—determined, inquisitive, brave, and respectful of justified authority, but intolerant of tyranny and incompetence. Is that not true?”
“Yes, but—”
“How different is that description from the one she gave?”
“The traits you listed are good ones. But you have a point.”
His lips twitched. “Consider our own guild members; Warlock Flint would describe you in less flattering terms.”
“You haven’t told me the secret.”
He shook his head. “Not now. Beorn is here.”
Beorn emerged from the tunnel rubbing his head. He held up a hand to forestall questions, and ushered us into the Fire Warlock’s study. “You have got to see this.” He flicked a hand at logs sitting ready in the fireplace; the fire roared. Another flick of the hand, and in the flames my image stormed out of the Earth Mother’s amber room.
The knot in my stomach reformed, tighter than before. I turned away. “I don’t want—”
Beorn grabbed my shoulders and yanked me around to face the fire. “Yeah, you do. Shut up and listen.”
The three witches and two wizards were all on their feet. The Frost Maiden hurried to the door. “Madam Locksmith, I did not mean—” The door closed in her face.
Beorn snarled, “Then what did you mean, you frostbitten—”
Mother Celeste turned on him. “Sit down and shut up. Rubbing her fur the wrong way won’t help calm things down.” Beorn backed away, muttering to himself and blowing out through his moustache.
The Frost Maiden shook off Sorceress Eleanor’s hand. “I did not intend to insult her. Truly, I did not.”
Enchanter Paul said, “The Locksmith’s reaction was out of proportion to the slight, certainly, but—”
“Out of proportion, my arse,” Beorn said. “For a fire witch she’s been doing a first-rate job of keeping her temper. She’s been simmering ever since the Frost Maiden called her an incompetent coward the other day.”
The Frost Maiden’s head snapped up. “I what? I never—”
“You did, and don’t deny it. I wasn’t happy about it either.”
Mother Celeste said, “I wondered what was the matter. All three of you from the Fire Guild were on edge from the moment you walked in today—”
“Were they?” Enchanter Paul said. “I didn’t notice.”
Mother Celeste’s eyes rolled. “Yes, Paul, they were. I’m not surprised Jean and Lucinda reacted the way they did.”
“They seemed no more upset than any member of the Fire Guild ever is in my presence,” the Frost Maiden said, “but that is evidently their reaction to me. Still.” She glided across the room and came to a stop before Beorn. “Please explain your ridiculous assertion I offended the Locksmith. You were referring to my visit to the Fortress?”
Beorn glowered and started to respond, but Mother Celeste shouldered her way between them. “Stop,” she said. “Lorraine, are you trying to make the score three for three?”
The Frost Maiden bridled. “I am not.”
Mother Celeste yanked on her arm and spun her around. “Then don’t talk to him. No,” she said, holding up a hand to the snarling Warlock, “I don’t mean we won’t find out what this is all about. But even under the influence of that spell she didn’t often snipe at Jean when he wasn’t around—”
“I say nothing at all about or to the Fire Warlock if I can avoid it.”
“Then it will be safer if she talks to me rather than to you, and if she takes the time to think before she speaks. Sit down and stop trying to intimidate her; it just annoys her.”
“Humph.” Beorn backed into the corner and sat with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring. Sorceress Eleanor wrung her hands and rocked on her heels. Enchanter Paul looked equally unsettled.
“Now tell me,” Mother Celeste ordered the Frost Maiden, “what you think happened.”
“Yes, Your Wisdom. And thank you. After talking to Warlock Quicksilver for two hours, I requested a moment alone with the Locksmith, and after her concurrence, I inquired about the lock on the Fire Office. She reacted like a schoolgirl caught unprepared for a lesson. I was too drained from my audience with Jean to pursue the matter further then, as I had no desire to embarrass the Water Guild by collapsing in the Fire Guild’s stronghold.”
“She almost did,” Sorceress Eleanor said. “She arrived back in the Crystal Palace and fell into Sorcerer Charles’s arms. We put her to bed and she stayed there for the rest of the day.”
The Frost Maiden rewarded her with a cold stare. “Thank you for that revelation.” She turned back to the Earth Mother. “If I had anticipated the Locksmith’s reaction I would have waited for another occasion. I did endeavour to reassure her I thought no less of her for not having made the attempt.”
Beorn surged to his feet, barking, “But she said Lucinda—” Mother Celeste poked him in the ribs with her wand, and he subsided, sputtering. “Well, I don’t know what she said exactly…I didn’t hear it… Something sarcastic, anyway, about it couldn’t be because she was afraid. Lucinda, that is. Like hell. Course she’s afraid—the one she already unlocked almost killed her. She’d be nuts not to be scared.”
The remaining colour drained from the Frost Maiden’s face. Sorceress Eleanor steered her to a chair, and she sank into it, clutching at the arms. “I did not intend any sarcasm. I stated a simple fact; I do not doubt either her courage or her ability.”
Beorn gaped. “But you said she didn’t have—”
She snapped, “No, fool, I—Oh, dear.”
Beorn sported a lop-sided grin. “If you’re trying to offend me, too, you’ll have to work harder than that. Go on.”
An answering smile flitted across her features. “Thank you.”
Mother Celeste let out a deep sigh. “Thank God. There’s hope yet. Now, go on.”
The Frost Maiden said, “I cannot fault the Locksmith for nerves. She is too intelligent to not be afraid. Courage is the ability to act when one is afraid, not the lack of fear, but a warlock would not understand that fine distinction.” Beorn snorted. She frowned and massaged her temple. “Oh, dear.”
Enchanter Paul said, “When every other sentence you utter sounds sarcastic, Your Wisdom, you shouldn’t be surprised when someone takes everything that way. And your description of a model warlock was not, shall we say, complimentary.”
“Some of us,” Beorn said, “Are proud of being all those things she called us.”
Mother Celeste glared at him. “Then why did you lose your temper when she said it? Oh, be quiet. They are true, but only half the story.”
“The words I said,” the Frost Maiden said, “were not the ones I intended. I meant to reassure her. Frankland would not have survived without warlocks like her to protect us.”
Beorn muttered, “God help the poor sod who asks you to cheer up his old, sick mum.” Mother Celeste jabbed him again with her wand.
The Enchanter frowned. “How can insubordination and risk taking be construed as vital to Frankland’s interests? I suppose she’ll behave herself, however, under Warlock Quicksilver’s thumb.”
“Oh, him.” Celeste, Jean’s bosom friend, sniffed. “He’s more likely to encourage those traits than otherwise.”
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Beorn said, “And he’s got more sense than to order another warlock around.”
“This does not bode well,” the Enchanter said, “for the success of this venture. Perhaps it’s just as well she isn’t here, because I want an answer to a question the Locksmith raised. You said it wasn’t a matter of trust, Your Wisdom, but how we can rebuild the Water Office if we can’t trust each other? Do you trust the Locksmith? And if you can’t take an honest answer,” he said to the growling Fire Warlock, “you may leave.”
“Not now I won’t.”
“For Heaven’s sake, Paul,” Mother Celeste snapped. “Couldn’t you have waited until the Fire Warlock left?”
“No, Celeste,” the Frost Maiden said. “It is better that he hears my answer.” She sat motionless for a few seconds, staring at the wall behind Enchanter Paul’s head, while Beorn glowered. “Do I trust her? What exactly do you mean by trust? Do I trust that she can unlock the Water Office? It is my impression she is as capable as the original locksmith, but her abilities in that branch of magic are so far beyond my own ken I am not a competent critic. Warlock Quicksilver is a better judge than I.”
“Yes, I respect his judgement on that score,” the Enchanter said, “but that wasn’t what I meant.”
“Did you mean then, do I trust her to meekly follow orders and do what I tell her to do, no more, no less? Heavens, no. She is a warlock!” She held up a hand to forestall the Enchanter’s interruption. “Or do I trust her to set aside her own comfort and do what is needed for her country, risking pain and possible death? Yes, Paul, I do. She has already demonstrated intelligence and commitment. These are what we need, Paul, not blind obedience. If she were biddable, I would not be here today discussing the subject with her, or with any warlock.
“You were not there when she released that foul lock on my Office. If it had not woken me, she would have died. She performed a heroic feat, alone, for someone she hated, out of the conviction it was the right thing to do. How could I not trust her?”