Traitor for Hire: Mage Code Read online

  "Not that one," Galeron said.

  Iven looked to his left. "Not that one, either. Academy of the Navy."

  They passed the Academy of Historical Records and the Academy of Mathematics before Iven pointed at the building atop the hill.

  "Natural sciences," he said. "Excellent, now we just..."

  "Iven?" asked Galeron.

  "Keep walking straight, and don't look to the right," Iven mumbled. "Just go up the hill."

  Galeron's gut twisted. "What's wrong?"

  "I spotted Tondra," he said.

  The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as they walked. "Are you sure?"

  "She's tried to flatten me a couple of times," Iven said. "It makes an impression."

  Galeron squeezed between a few chatting scholars clad in white robes and walked up the stone steps to the entrance. Looking straight ahead, he asked, "Did she see us?"

  "Don't think so."

  They stopped to one side of the doorway. Galeron dropped a hand to his sword hilt. "If Tondra's here, then so are Atreus and Hektor."

  Iven pulled a bowstring from under his hat and strung his weapon. "Think they're already inside?"

  Galeron loosened his blade. "Maybe." He inhaled sharply. "Let's find out."

  The stream of people died away, and they entered the building. An atrium, still filled with books and rolls of paper, greeted them before opening out into a larger, circular lecture hall, tiers of benches carved into stone, which surrounded a podium in the middle. The text the speaker had been using lay open. Light filtered in through an opening in the middle of the roof. The hall was empty, but there was a door at the other end, partially ajar.

  Galeron drew his sword. "They left in a hurry." His left hand felt out of place. "Wish I'd brought my shield."

  Iven scanned the surroundings and nocked an arrow. "That open door might answer our question."

  They made their way across the benches to the door on the other side. Galeron gestured for Iven to take a position on one side of the entrance, and he slipped against the wall on the other. He closed his eyes and opened his ears, straining to hear anything from the other side. Eventually, faint voices filtered through.

  "...told you the truth. We know you have it." There was Atreus.

  "It's just a theory," a female voice said. Magister Russo, presumably. "I don't even know if it's translated right."

  "Magister, trust me when I say I have experience with your text's subject," Atreus said.

  "It's a Delktian text," Russo said. "Most people don't believe they can be trusted."

  Atreus laughed. "A text that, as you have said, was for their own use. Why would they lie to themselves?"

  "You surprise me," Russo said.

  "Stop playing games." Hektor. "Which book?"

  Galeron looked at Iven and held up two fingers. Iven nodded. Galeron put down a finger, knuckles white on the hilt of his sword. He lowered the last finger and kicked the door inward. Two men. Two mages. What could go wrong?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Galeron and Iven dashed into the room, which looked like the magister's personal study, lined with stuffed bookshelves and a cluttered desk at one end. Galeron made his way toward Atreus, who had the plain-looking teacher pinned against one of the shelves with his good hand. Iven released his arrow at Atreus's back, but Hektor, standing off to one side, waved his hand. A gust of wind knocked the arrow off course, letting it slam into a shelf, quivering. Another gesture pinned both of them against the opposing wall, held a few feet from the ground.

  Atreus turned around, releasing his hold on Magister Russo. "That won't work a second time." He smiled. "Galeron, your tenacity is refreshing, but you need to learn a new trick. Haven't we done this before?"

  "Where's the prince?" asked Galeron, struggling against the bonds of air.

  "Safe," said Atreus. "He's important to my vengeance. Please, stay and chat with the esteemed Magister Russo once we leave. You might even learn a thing or two." He turned back to her and cleared his throat. "Now where were we?"

  She pointed a shaky finger to a tome on her desk. "T-that's the one. It tells you everything I've translated so far."

  Atreus picked it up and thumbed through it with his burned digits. "Everything so far." He looked up. "There wouldn't be information you haven't written down yet, would there?"

  "How would I know?" asked Russo. "I haven't done it yet."

  He nodded. "Good. Understand that if this doesn't work, I will be coming back for you, but this time, you, not just your book, will come with me."

  Her jaw dropped. "T-that's not fair. I couldn't tell you how it works in real life. I'm no mage."

  Atreus chuckled. "If your work is right, is that even relevant?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned, tucking the book under one arm. "We have what we came for. Let's go."

  Hektor nodded and hurled Galeron and Iven at Russo. Galeron missed and slammed into the bookcase behind her. They landed in a heap, sword flying from his grasp. A groaning sounded from behind him. Galeron turned just in time to be buried under a flood of books as the wooden shelving toppled over. Its weight smashed him and slammed his chin into the ground. He bit his tongue, and his mouth filled with a familiar copper taste. The shelves dug into his ribs and back, and the mass constricted his breathing.

  "Get it off," screamed Russo.

  Galeron grunted and pulled his arm out from under himself. "Iven?"

  "Annoyed, but fine," he said.

  "Can you try to move?" Galeron asked.

  "This thing's too heavy for me," Iven said. "What did they make this thing out of?"

  "We do it together," Galeron said. "Push up on three."

  "Aye."

  "One...two...three."

  Galeron pushed upward. The bookcase inched away. His arms quaked as he put more effort into it, driving himself further and further up. His pulse pounded in his head, and his arms screamed for him to stop. A line of molten lead outlined the crack in his collar bone, or maybe he was imagining that.

  "It's too heavy," said Iven.

  "Get your knees under you," Galeron said, dragging his legs from flat to bent.

  Iven coughed. "Got it."

  "Now up again."

  With the added push, they shoved the bookcase up. Galeron's calves shook from the effort, and his knees threatened to burst from the strain. The shelves dug into his back, but he pushed the pain from his mind.

  "Magister, move" said Iven.

  She crawled away and got clear. Now what?

  "I think..." Russo began.

  "You think what?" asked Galeron.

  "You, over here," she said, pointing at Iven. "You can get clear. You're closer to the edge."

  "Galeron, can you hold it?" asked Iven.

  "Is there a choice?"

  "No."

  Galeron grunted and stiffened his back. This was going to hurt. "Then go."

  Iven dove out from under the shelves, and the entire weight landed on Galeron's back. He gritted his teeth and bore up under the pressure. Couldn't let up. Atreus was getting away. They had to get free and go after them. His back creaked under the strain, or was that the bookcase?

  Iven grunted and appeared in front of him. "Come forward slowly."

  Galeron slid toward him, inch by horrible inch, and each shelf thudded into his back as he moved. One step at a time. First his right foot, then his left, and then his right again. He made it to the end.

  "Reach and press up," Iven said.

  Galeron did so, pushing, away from him. He turned slowly, shuffling his way backward and out from under it. Iven grunted as he took the bulk of the weight. Galeron slipped away, and Iven dropped the shelf, a loud thud echoing through the stone room. Galeron breathed heavily, though each breath came with a sharp stab of pain on his left side.

  "What's the matter?" asked Iven.

  Galeron winced. "Broken ribs, most likely."

  Iven sighed. "Boiling bones, man, I thought you were the tough one."

&n
bsp; Galeron looked around and retrieved his sword. "Come on. They're getting away."

  Iven picked up the shattered remains of his bow. "I'll back you up, but I don't know how much use I am."

  "Worry about it later." He rushed to the door and stopped. "Magister Russo, we'll need to talk when I come back."

  "Not again," she moaned.

  They didn't stop to explain. Galeron and Iven rushed out of the building and into the crowded Consortium streets. Galeron looked left and right. Plenty of students and teachers, but there was no sign of Atreus or Hektor.

  "Where did they go?" asked Iven.

  Galeron sagged. "We lost them."

  "But not me." A fist slammed into Galeron's back and hurled him onto the steps.

  He lay there, coughing and gasping for his lost breath. What was going on?

  "Of course it's you," he heard Iven say.

  Galeron scrambled to his feet and charged back up the hill, ribs protesting with every step. Iven danced away from Tondra's swinging fists, but she had gotten faster since last time. Every blow came close to striking home. Galeron rushed for Tondra's back, raising his blade for a deep thrust. She pivoted and grabbed the blade by the point and wrenched it from his grasp. A blow to his chest sent him sprawled on the ground again. Breathing in ragged gasps, he pulled himself up in time to watch Iven fly by and land a few feet away from him. No sword, no bow, and a very angry mage. They were in it deep this time. Wonderful.

  "Now who's too slow?" Tondra asked, fists on her hips.

  Petty, but he'd never accused her of great wit. Galeron looked around, but his sword was nowhere in sight. His breath caught in his chest. Take her on with his bare hands? He'd sooner ram one of Iven's arrows through his eye. It would be faster and less painful. They could run, but then the only link to Atreus would be loose in the city.

  "What now?" asked Iven, staggering to his feet. He had a hand on one knee and leaned against it, holding his head up and squinting at Tondra.

  "We need her," Galeron said. "She knows where Atreus and Prince Lattimer are."

  Iven grunted. "And she's just going to give us that information?"

  Galeron's mind raced through possibilities. Let her go and follow? Not likely. She'd make sure they were in no condition to track her. Capture? Maybe, but they had nothing to do it with, and her strength made binding her impossible. She was as strong as the earth itself. He raised his eyebrows. Great strength needed concentration, energy, to use. Maybe that was the key.

  "Go back to Rand," Galeron said. "See if he has chains and bring them back here."

  "The chains or the people?"

  "Both if you have to."

  Iven looked at him, mouth open. "What are you going to do in the meantime?"

  Galeron swallowed. "Something incredibly stupid." He pointed down the hill. "Hurry up."

  Iven took off down the slope, and Galeron turned to face Tondra.

  "Seems your archer only cares for his own skin," Tondra said. "I'll find him later."

  He took deep breaths, in and out, with a controlled and even tempo. Mistakes were lethal here. Calmness would win the day. She rushed him, and he swerved away. Tondra turned and threw another punch, but Galeron ducked and drove an uppercut into her belly. His fist glanced off, but the blow elicited a roar from Tondra. She reached for his neck, but he dove out of the way again, leading her up the steps of the Natural Science Academy.

  Her fist sought his face. Galeron sidestepped, and the blow tore a chunk from the stone column. Galeron retreated to the other side and circled around, keeping the pillar between them. She moved one way, but he matched and never let her get close. Tondra screamed and punched her way through the column. Shards of stone blew away, cutting his face, and a cloud of white dust enveloped them. Coughing, Galeron backed away and dove behind another column.

  "Stand and face me," Tondra said. "Are you not the great Deathstalker of legend?"

  Galeron snarled and suppressed the urge to kick a bard. "Blame the poets. It wasn't supposed to be me."

  Tondra pummeled her way through the second column and grabbed him by the tunic before he could get away. She held him up with one hand. "A legend, whether you asked for it or not, and as good as dead."

  Galeron raised his arms and slid out of his tunic. A good thing Iven bought a size too big. "You aren't the first to say that."

  He bolted toward the other end of the overhang and the two remaining supports. Tondra didn't waste time trying to catch him. She rushed and plowed through the remaining pillars and dove for Galeron. He darted out of the way and glanced up at the ceiling. Cracks spiderwebbed through the stone, but it wasn't ready to fall just yet. He pressed himself against the academy's front wall and leaped away as Tondra swung her fist. His foot twisted on rubble, and he hit the ground, bouncing and rolling to a stop and the base of a ruined column.

  Tondra pulled her fist from the wall and strode over to him. "Mortal against mage. Who did you think would win?"

  Galeron heaved for breath and looked beyond her head. Any moment now. "What can I say? I'm overconfident."

  She sneered. "That will cost you."

  Galeron bit back a smile. "You have no idea."

  With a thunderous crack, the stone overhang gave way and came crashing down. Galeron pushed off and rolled down the steps, stone edges slamming into him until he hit the landing and came to a stop. He sat up and pressed his hands to his temples. The whole world spun from his tumble, and he clenched his jaws shut to avoid heaving on the ground.

  Screaming reached his ears, but it was growing fainter by the moment. Their commotion must have driven away the students and teachers. Galeron rubbed his forehead and stood, looking back toward the academy. The front face of the building was a giant slope of shattered stone. His stomach flipped. Hopefully Magister Russo had gotten out in time, or the back half of the structure was still intact.

  He trudged up the steps, left ankle twinging with every pace. No stone stirred from the rubble, nor did anyone scream beneath it. Should he start digging and search for Tondra? At the moment, she seemed subdued. Freeing her could restart the fight. However, if she were severely wounded, she might die before he could get any information from her. Tondra was the last link to Atreus. A link that would do him no good dead or beating his face into a fine paste.

  Galeron leaned against one of the stubs protruding from the wreckage. Best to wait for Iven and the chains. His pulse, once roaring in his ears, slowed to a loud drumbeat instead. Sweat dug channels in the dust covering his face, and a lightheaded sensation gripped him as metal-shod footsteps approached. Galeron turned to see the newcomers.

  A detachment of the city watch, noticeably missing most of their plate armor, jogged up the hill and surrounded Galeron. Some of the men had managed to don their breastplates, others their shoulder protecting pauldrons, but all of them carried the long-barreled firelocks needed for mage combat. Those barrels now stood level at Galeron's torso.

  "We have you surrounded, mage," one of them said. "Breathe, and we shoot."

  Galeron scowled. It wasn't their fault they turned up after the fight, but still. "Where's your sergeant?"

  "You're speaking to him, daemon."

  Galeron turned his gaze on the soldier who'd spoken. A balding man with no facial hair and a pudgy face, the firelock shook in his grasp. The man had probably never even seen a mage. "Sergeant, did your commander receive a missive over a month ago?"

  "He receives plenty of them," the sergeant said. "What's it to you?"

  "This one came from King Soren and talked about a mercenary hunting the mage who killed his son," Galeron said. "Do you know that one?"

  "Aye, the Deathstalker has returned to his old ways." The sergeant tightened his grip on the weapon. "Did you kill him? Did you drop that building on the Deathstalker?"

  Galeron sighed and looked at the ground. Better choose my next words carefully. He glanced at the man's hand. One finger hovered over the firelock's trigger. The last thing he needed w
as to spook him, but actually claiming the title? Galeron's blood boiled at the thought, but it was either that, and buying himself some extra time, or the overeager soldier would probably shoot first and ask questions later.

  "Sergeant, I am the Deathstalker," Galeron grumbled.

  The sergeant snorted, and several of his soldiers laughed outright. "The Deathstalker is seven feet tall with a gaze like steel. Thunder rumbles in his wake. You look like a Drake who's been beaten bloody several times."

  "Besides," another soldier said. "Everyone knows his blade is stained black with a necromancer's blood. Where's your sword?"

  "Wish I knew," Galeron said. Where was Iven? What was taking him so long?

  "Sergeant, let's just shoot him," said the soldier. "Mages can hide in plain sight. We're called to a mage attack, and we find this one standing in its wake."

  Galeron took a deep breath. He had to keep them calm, reason with them. Surely they would see sense. "If I were a mage, why would I wait for the city watch to show up?"

  "How would I know?" said the sergeant. "Mages don't think like mortals."

  "Galeron."

  He turned and saw Iven and, strangely enough, Lonni jogging up the hill. Chains rattled over Iven's back, and he hoisted Galeron's black sword aloft.

  "Sergeant, let him go," said Lonni as they drew close.

  "Afraid not, miss. This man is a mage," the sergeant said, his eyes never leaving Galeron.

  Lonni exhaled sharply. "He's many things, few of them good, but he's no mage."

  "Claims he's the Deathstalker, but he doesn't even have the sword." The sergeant pushed the firelock's muzzle closer to Galeron's face.

  Iven extended Galeron's blade hilt first. "Does this convince you?"

  The sergeant glanced at the blade and did a double take. He shouldered his weapon and looked at the ground. "My apologies, sir." To his men, he said, "At ease."

  The barrels descended, and Galeron took his sword back, sliding it into his sheathe.