The Golden Tower (Magisterium #5)(49)
All around, the mages rose up into the air. Call could feel himself being lifted up, could feel the wind whooshing beneath him, but with Alastair so close, even though his magic was bound, he couldn’t be afraid. He remembered how much he had wished for weightlessness, had wanted to fly so that he could avoid all the difficulties of having a leg that hurt a lot.
But that had been a kid’s wish. His problems now couldn’t be solved by a little magic.
Maybe they can be solved by a lot of magic, Aaron said in his head.
They flew over fields and gray highways snaking by underfoot, the forest and the Magisterium retreating behind them. Call glanced over to see Havoc being whirled through the air, his paws flailing, and Tamara nearby, her dark hair flying like a banner. She looked over at him and gave an encouraging smile.
In the distance, the golden tower rose, ever closer. For being built so quickly and for no real purpose but to stall Alex, the shimmering tower was both beautiful and formidable. Call wondered what purpose it might serve after today.
Assuming, of course, that purpose wasn’t as his tomb.
They landed on a stretch of grass in front of the single door to the tower. As soon as their feet touched the ground, a dark cloud passed over the sky, signaling Alex’s arrival with a bolt of lightning that struck a bare stretch of foliage, blackening it and making everyone jump.
“That ridiculous child,” Graves ground out.
From the sky, Alex and his retinue heaved into view.
Alex was still on the back of his dragon-shaped chaos elemental but now his outfit had gotten even more elaborate. He wore black — of course — and huge black boots with massive silver buckles in the shape of lightning bolts. Around his shoulders was a cape.
Is that an actual cape? Aaron demanded.
Yep, Call thought. It definitely was — it was even fluttering in the breeze. Alex’s hair was spiked up with gel. Flying beside him were two more chaos elementals, both in horselike shapes that looked far less fixed. They sometimes seemed to have wings; other times instead of legs, they seemed to have the long, searching tentacles of octopi. Call guessed one was for Anastasia. The other, he feared, was for Kimiya.
As Alex landed, his cape whipped through the air and Call spotted the dull metal crown on his head, its spikes like teeth. For a moment, even though Call knew it was all calculated, that Alex only cared about the illusion, the illusion worked. Call actually felt a thin tendril of fear and shuddered.
“Assemblypeople of the mage world and other luminaries, I am glad that you’ve decided to cave to my demands and acknowledge my superiority,” said Alex. “This tower you’ve built me is pretty nice. I plan to reign from it quietly and not disturb you too much. I don’t want to do any gross Enemy of Death stuff, like reanimating people or animals. That’s not my thing. My thing is letting everyone know how awesome and scary I am.”
“You mean everyone in the mage world?” asked Graves. Even though this was for show, he looked furious. “You still intend to keep the great secrets of magic, don’t you?”
Alex chortled, and the crowd of creatures around him hooted and cackled. It was much more frightening than anything he’d said. He might be a ridiculous child, as Graves had said, but he had access to enormous power and creatures that could wield it.
“The what?” he sneered.
“The silence of the mage world!” Graves thundered. “We do not tell those without magic of the existence of magic. It endangers them and endangers us. It was difficult enough to build this stupid tower without alerting them to the magic that was happening — ”
“My tower isn’t stupid,” said Alex, and made a casual gesture in Graves’s direction. Black fire shot from his fingers and swallowed up the Assemblyman. In seconds, nothing was left but a charred circle in the grass.
Kimiya screamed, then bit the noise back with an obvious effort as Alex frowned at her. The mages were crying out as well, voices echoing around the clearing. Jasper was looking over at Gwenda, his face creased with concern. Tamara just shook her head, looking grim.
Master Rufus stepped forward, into the blackened circle. “Alex Strike,” he said.
Alex laughed. “Master Rufus,” he said. “Joseph used to talk about you all the time. The great mage who’d taught Constantine Madden. But being your assistant didn’t reveal any greatness. Constantine was something in spite of you, not because of you.” He flicked his eyes in Call’s direction, his mouth stretching into a grin. “After all, look how badly you’ve done with Callum.”
“You may do to me as you did to Graves,” said Rufus, and Call tensed. He didn’t think he could stand it if Alex wiped his teacher off the face of the world. He’d have to break free of his manacles and that would ruin everything. “But then you will get nothing you want. It will be war with the mage community — and as you’ve said, you don’t want that. You want to be left alone.”
“True,” said Alex, examining his nails.
“It would be easier for you as well if the ordinary world didn’t know about mages,” said Rufus. “Think of what you could do. You could use your magic to trick them and make millions.”
Alex laughed. “Maybe you are brilliant, Rufus. All right. I’ll keep the magic to myself.” He turned his glimmering, star-filled eyes on Kimiya. “Come along, darling. Don’t you still love me?”