Magebane (52 page)

Well, it didn't really matter what else she'd spoken of, did it? None of it had happened. Beth had developed a bad case of acne, something even Mother Northwind could not cure quickly, though she tried. Finding her face unappealing, the Mageborn chef had simply told her one morning to get out: out of the kitchen, out of the Palace. She'd been owed a month's wages. She didn't get them.

Beth's husband-to-be had been furious at her for losing her precious job in the Palace, and had dumped her. She'd moved back in with her parents, but that had been short-lived. Within six weeks her father ran off with a woman from Berriton, taking the family's small store of savings with him. Her mother wound up in a debtor's prison shortly thereafter for failure to pay the rent to their Mageborn landlord.

The only reason Mother Northwind knew about
those
things was because the next time she'd met Beth, after she'd left the Palace and set up shop as a Healer in New Cabora, was at Tallule's House of Perfumes, one of the busiest brothels in the city. Beth had been entertaining as many as ten customers a day (Mageborn as well as Commoners) in a desperate (and doomed, considering how much of her earnings went to Madame Tallule) effort to pay her mother's debts, and not surprisingly had picked up an infection.

Mother Northwind soon chased that out of her body, but knew it was just a matter of time before something worse would claim Beth, or more likely that some customer, probably a drunken married Mageborn slumming in the Commons, would do something to her that couldn't be set right . . . and she couldn't let that happen. So she had hired Beth as her assistant. When it came to the kind of bawdy flirting that kept a man off-balance and less careful about what they said, Beth was a master, and ultimately Mother Northwind had set her up as a barmaid in a tavern inside the Mageborn enclave. If she chose to sell some of the traveling marketmen more than just beer and steak in order to help her mother, Mother Northwind didn't care, as long as she got information from them as well as tips.

As Mother Northwind had begun to shape the Common Cause, trying to make it a solid foundation on which a new and more equitable order could be founded when she succeeded in destroying the MageLords, she had needed someone to serve as her second-in-command, someone she could trust explicitly, and Beth had met that need. Beth was the only person within the Cause to know that the sometimes-helpful Healer/Witch and the secretive mastermind Patron were one and the same.

Which made her doubly dangerous now . . . and what Mother Northwind needed to do doubly anguishing.

But Beth surprised her. “I know why you're here,” she said bluntly.

Mother Northwind studied her. “You do?”

Beth made an impatient gesture. “I'm not stupid, Lila. I know the kind of powers you wield—I've seen you use them often enough. Falk is going to interrogate me. He's going to
torture
me. And he is a master at it. I know, no matter how much I might try to fool myself, that I will tell him everything I know. And if I know the true identity of the Patron, if I retain any memory of our years at the Palace together, or how you got me out of Tallule's or . . . or any of that stuff, he
will
get it out of me. So . . .” She swallowed. “So it's important I don't remember. Any of it. Not even . . . not even the good times.” A tear glistened at the corner of her eye, then traced a gleaming track down the curve of her cheek.

Mother Northwind sighed. “I'm so sorry, Beth . . . but yes. I'm close, so close to my goal . . . but I'm not there yet. And I'll never get there if Falk starts to mistrust me. So . . .”

“All right,” Beth said. “All right.”

Taking a deep breath, Mother Northwind reached out her hand. But Beth pushed it away. “Don't just touch me, Lila,” she said. She began to sob, great, wrenching sobs that shook her whole body. She moved closer and wrapped her arms around Mother Northwind. “Hug me, Lila. Hug me!”

Her own heart breaking, Mother Northwind gathered Beth in her arms . . . and did what she had to do.

For several minutes they clung to each other. Then, exhaustion blackening the edges of her vision, she pulled away. Beth looked at her, puzzled. “Who are you?” she said. “Do I know you?”

“Just a Healer,” Mother Northwind said around the lump in her throat. “Just a Healer.”

“A Healer? But I'm . . .” Beth looked down at herself. “I'm not hurt. Am I? I mean . . .” She held up her hands, turned them over. “I feel all right.”

“You're fine,” Mother Northwind said. But as she got up to cross the hallway to Anton's cell, she thought,
I, on the other hand, am not.

She paused in the corridor, taking a few more deep breaths, feeling some of her strength returning, but slowly, so much more slowly than it once would have.
Age
, she spat silently.
Pah!

In her pouch she had four vials of a precious restorative she could use in an emergency. Difficult to make, dangerous to use, it would restore her strength for a time, but when it ran out, she might well collapse for a week.

She leaned against the wall.
Not yet
, she thought.
I may still have need of it, but not yet.

She straightened at last and made her way to the cell where Anton was being held: the same cell previously occupied by Verdsmitt. The neat symmetry of that, considering what she intended, was not lost on Mother Northwind.

The Outsider boy jumped up from the narrow cot as she came in. “You!” he said. “Brenna told me what you did. You stole my thoughts. You . . . Brenna calls it rape!”

“Did it feel like rape?” Mother Northwind said tartly. “It's not like you struggled. I was in and out of you as quick as you were in and out of that tavern maid in Wavehaven.”

Anton turned bright red. “Brenna told me what you want to do to me next. She overheard Falk talking to you about it. I—I'll kill you if you try it.”

Ah!
thought Mother Northwind.
So that's what precipitated all this.

“Proud words for someone in an eight-by-ten cell,” Mother Northwind said. “And I assure you, I'm harder to kill than I look. You'd do that with your bare hands, would you? Grab me and . . . ?” She paused, letting that sink in, then made a dismissive gesture, as if she were brushing away an annoying insect. “Well, don't go filling your drawers, boy. I'm not here to twist your mind.”

Anton's eyes narrowed. “Even though Falk wants you to?”

“My interests and Lord Falk's are not always in perfect alignment,” Mother Northwind said.

“You're after something different than him,” Anton said slowly. “Brenna told me . . . the men on the dogsled were taking us to you, but Falk's men killed them. That means he didn't know you had us. And that means we were being taken to you, not him, and probably not here. So why did
you
want us?”

“Oh, you're a clever one, aren't you?” Mother Northwind cooed. “Smart and pretty. No wonder Brenna's so hot to let you under her skirt.”

Anton blushed again. “I don't . . . we haven't . . .”

“You do,” Mother Northwind said. “And given half a chance, you will. I've watched too many rounds of the boygirl dance to be fooled by claims of innocence, boy.”

“What do you want from me?” Anton exploded.

“I need you to disrupt Lord Falk's plans in favor of my own, of course,” Mother Northwind said. “And help me lay contingency plans against the possibility he succeeds at what he's trying to do.”

“Bring down the Anomaly . . . the Great Barrier?”

Impressed again, Mother Northwind nodded. “Exactly. Falk's plan, in case you haven't figure it out yet, is to seize the Kingship, which means control of the Keys, and then bring the Great Barrier down and launch his army into the outside world. His
magically armed
army. He wants to return to the long-gone days when everyone bowed to the MageLords, and through them to the King—him.”

“Can he do that?”

“Yes,” Mother Northwind said, though since she'd been in Tagaza's mind, she doubted it. But no need to tell Anton that. “He can. But he won't. Because I have a different plan. I, too, wish to destroy the Great Barrier, and the Lesser, too—but I will do it by destroying magic. Destroy magic, and you destroy the power of the MageLords . . . and the Evrenfels that will then face the Outside world will be one where the Commoners hold sway, ready to take its place in whatever community of nations has grown up outside the Barrier over the centuries.”

“More like a bear pit than a community,” Anton muttered.

“Perhaps. Nevertheless, it is time we rejoined it.” Mother Northwind studied the boy. He had a head on his shoulders, and a cynical view of the world rare in one so young . . . but from what she had gleaned of his rough upbringing, perhaps that was to be expected. It should serve him well now, in any event. “Falk's plan is to send you over the Barrier again to ‘soften the battle space.' He wants you to tell your people there's no such thing as magic, that this is a peaceable kingdom that only wants to play nice with everyone. All lies, but you won't know that.”

“But you just told me,” Anton said.

Mother Northwind sighed. “But you won't know that
if I twist your mind to absolute loyalty to Lord Falk
, which is what he's requested.”

Anton swallowed. “Ah. Of course. But you're not going to do that . . . are you?”

Mother Northwind smiled. “No.
I
like the idea of you flying home, just as Falk plans . . . but then telling the truth of what you've found here, so that your people are prepared for the moment when I, not Falk, bring down the Barrier, and the Commoners take the government. Then you can fly back and tell me about it, so I can make even better plans for the immediate aftermath of the Barrier's collapse.”

Anton studied her. “There's nothing I would like better than to fly back over the Anomaly,” he said. “But without compulsion . . . what makes you think I'll come back?”

“Brenna,” Mother Northwind said succinctly.

Anton said nothing. Then, “All right.”

“Good,” Mother Northwind said. “Then let's talk specifics.” She smiled, amused as she remembered her conversation with Verdsmitt. “Tell me,” she said, “how good an actor are you?”

The next day Anton faced Falk in his office, and hoped the answer to Mother Northwind's question was, “good enough.”

Falk studied him. “Do you remember me, boy?” he said.

Anton did his best to look puzzled. “Of course, my lord. You saved my life. How could I forget the warm welcome you provided when I turned up so unexpectedly on your doorstep?”

“And yet you fled my manor.”

Mother Northwind had told Anton that she would tell Falk she had altered his memories of that event, so that he no longer remembered Brenna's sabotage of the mageservants or her warning to him about what Falk intended for him. “Here's what you say . . .” she told him, and now, a dutiful actor repeating his lines, he said, “I must apologize, my lord. I did not secure the tie-down ropes as well as I could, and I was anxious for you to see the airship fully inflated and ready to go when you returned to the manor, so I thought I should fill the envelope to make sure it had no leaks. Brenna and I were both quite horrified when the ropes let go. And, of course, with no fuel for the propeller engine, after that we were at the mercy of the wind and weather.” He smiled. “And yet somehow you found us and rescued us from those ruffians. So I am doubly grateful to you, my lord. I hope there is something I can do to show my gratitude.”

He kept his smile, though inside he felt sick.
That sounded like a lie. It must have!

But Falk smiled. “As a matter of fact, my lad, there is. Here's what I want you to do . . .”

It was all exactly as Mother Northwind had said. Falk wanted him to make the airship fly once more, but this time to take it over the Barrier, back to the Outside.

“No doubt your return will cause a sensation,” Falk said.

It surely will
, Anton thought, remembering the crowd of people, even if most of them thought he and the Professor were suicidal lunatics, who had gathered for their launch. He hoped, given the difficulty of arranging transportation to and from the town, that the reporters who had covered their departure would still be waiting, for a while longer, at least, to see if they returned. If they were, he would definitely have a story to tell them . . . but not the one Falk was feeding him now.

Falk wanted him to tell the Outside that all he had found were scattered, peaceful villages, cut off long ago by the mysterious appearance of the Anomaly. He was to say that the Anomaly had been a great subject of study for the people of Evrenfels for centuries, and at last they had found a way to bring it down. He was to say that they posed no threat to anyone, and only wanted peace, trade, and exchange of knowledge.