The Unmaking (The Last Days of Tian Di, #2)(33)

“And the Mancers?” asked Nell, who fancied herself a bit of an expert on the mystical. After all, she was the only ordinary human in the Modern Age who had been to Tian Xia, even if she couldn’t remember it. She had given up her memories in exchange for passage back and had regretted it ever since. It was terrible not to remember anything at all about the greatest adventure of her entire life.

“There’s no word, aye,” said Ander. He knew a thing or two about Tian Xia attacks and he was troubled.

“But we’re quite safe here,” said Onni. “Lah, nothing ever happens here. Will you stay for supper, Ander?”

“Oh, no. Mother’s expecting me.”

“Lah, you know she’s welcome also, Ander!”

“No, no, she’s poorly, I should get back, aye.”

This was their ritual. Ander heaved himself up out of the guest chair and reached out a hand, which Gladd shook, mumbling something indiscernible.

“Same to you, Gladd, same to you,” Ander said affably. Nell wondered if he actually knew what her father had said. “Good to have you back, Nell,” said Ander as he made his way to the door in a slow shuffle, nodding to each of them in turn. “Boys, good evening. Thank you as always, Onni.”

“Goodnight, Mister Brady,” said Nell. He edged out the door and then broke into a stride that reminded Nell he had been strong and athletic once.

Supper was a raucous affair. Onni wanted to hear about Nell but Nell was tired after her journey and didn’t have the energy to try to drown out her brothers. Alban and Marti came by after dinner and they all had some wine and became very jolly. Nobody remembered or cared that Nell was still a bit young for wine and so she got drunk for the first time in her life.

When her father had gone to sleep on the sofa, snoring so the floors trembled, and Alban and Marti had laid sleeping bags out on the floor in the hall, and the others had all gone to their beds, Nell sat by her bedroom window and breathed in the salty night air for awhile. She had never been drunk before and didn’t want to sleep through the novel experience. So far, she just felt foggy-minded and a little sad, which wasn’t terribly exciting. However, having witnessed adults behaving very stupidly when drunk, she was waiting to see if she herself would be suddenly compelled to do something idiotic. The town was silent. If she listened very carefully she could hear the pull of the sea. Then all of a sudden something fell out of the sky and crashed into the yard. She leaped to her feet and leaned further out the window, straining to see by the moonlight. The thing had wings and it was the size of a small car. It changed shape and became a boy staggering towards the house.

“Charlie!” she called. Charlie looked up at her and broke into a smile. Then his legs gave out beneath him and he collapsed on the lawn.





Chapter


8

Kyreth’s hands had, over the course of nearly five centuries, done many things. His hands were credited with keeping the worlds apart. They were hands that could See, hands that could Open, hands that could Destroy. They were conduits for Great Magic and had built the greatest Barriers in the worlds. They were feared by many and respected by all.

Now, his hands were plunged into his marble desk past the wrist so he could not move them. Nia’s white tiger watched him with inscrutable, iridescent eyes through the hole she had smashed in the wall. His mind was clouded by the Confusion. He could not bring his darting, fragmented thoughts together to summon the Magic he needed. He was still, however, the Supreme Mancer. Where other beings and perhaps other Mancers would be utterly lost in such a spell, unable to formulate a single coherent thought, Kyreth struggled mightily to clear his mind. Nia was a fool to leave him alone. If she believed that immobilizing his hands and baffling his mind were enough, she was mistaken. The Confusion sat like a mist over his brain. He needed to burn it off with clarity of thought and then he would be able to free his hands. Remembering who he was and what was happening was easy; maintaining a single train of thought was more difficult. His mind was like a wild horse he had to keep on track as it galloped to and fro. Had the Emmisariae escaped before Nia came? If so, and if they found Eliza first, all might still be well. Those five, with time to prepare and assistance from Tian Xia, would be a match for Nia. He wondered too what Nia was doing, where she was, how the Mancers were faring. He forced all these tangled dissonant thoughts away with a great blaze of energy. For a moment his mind was clear but it was not long enough to release his hands before the cloud converged again and scattered his thoughts in too many directions at once.

To become Supreme Mancer was not an easy thing. It required unusual ability and focus. It required perseverance. Kyreth had these. He did not let the spell take him. He did not become discouraged and allow the Confusion to sweep away his very self like a tidal wave. It had all the inexorable power of the tide coming in but Kyreth could hold off the tide and turn it back. Such was his power. Again, he swept aside the spell. He knew there would be no time to find words to free his hands and so he poured his Magic into force, giving his hands all the strength he could. The desk cracked down the middle, but held his hands fast. The tiger, still and watchful, did not move. Every now and then, the tip of his tail twitched.

Hours passed in struggle. Sweat poured down Kyreth’s face and back. Piece by piece he destroyed the desk.

When Nia returned, he was slumped on the floor in an ungainly fashion, holding his head up with great effort. The desk was in pieces, yet his hands remained encased in blocks of marble still. His eyes were like dying embers, red with hatred. She stepped delicately into the study through the hole in the wall. She had not bothered to conjure any doors, simply tore her way through the Citadel’s walls, and Kyreth longed to warn her that the Citadel had Magic of its own and would not tolerate such treatment without retaliating somehow. But he did not want to risk speaking. He could not be sure what would come out and would not give her the satisfaction of hearing him speak nonsense.