He needed a test subject, someone whose opinion was contrary to his own and who was unimportant enough to not be missed if Amaury destroyed their mind. The problem was, he’d been very effective in making people who disagreed with him disappear in recent weeks. Still, he thought, I might be in luck. He scribbled a note and rang the bell on his desk. Then, remembering his secretary was preparing for his speech, Amaury left his office and grabbed the first servant he could find.
“Renaud and Canet,” Amaury said. “I believe they are still in the palace dungeons. Have one of them fetched up to my office as quick as you can.”
“Of course, Lord Protector.” The servant blanched. “I’m sorry, Lord Protector. Who?”
“Renaud, the former chancellor. Canet, the former captain of the City Watch. They should still be in the cells below the palace. Take this release order. I only need one of them. I don’t care which.” He paused. “The one who stinks the least. Perhaps give them a quick rinse and some clean clothing. I don’t want them leaving a stench in my office. Be quick.”
“Yes, Lord Protector.”
The servant headed off, clutching the release order, and Amaury found himself in the odd position of hoping at least one of his two former adversaries was still alive. Back in his office, he started to prepare. Desire was the spark and focus was the fuel—dal Drezony had explained it to him a hundred times. Easily done when the worst consequence was a pop and a flash of light, but maintaining that singularity of thought when you knew an errant idea could bring the building down around you made it significantly more challenging.
Still, the only way to learn how to ride was to get up on the horse in the first place, and Amaury had been creating uninspiring lights for several years. The unintended—although ultimately welcome—consequence of his magical assault on the king was an anomaly. A mistake made did not necessarily mean it would be repeated.
Before long there was a knock on the door, and a damp, but still filthy and bedraggled, Renaud was pushed in by two palace guards.
“Renaud, you’re looking remarkably well, all things considered,” Amaury said.
“I hope you burn in each of the three hells,” Renaud said.
“Good to see you too. Please, sit.”
The guards shoved Renaud into a chair.
“You may leave us, thank you,” Amaury said. Knowing better than to question him, they did as they were told.
“Why did you bring me here, Amaury?”
“I want you to sign a document stating that you wholeheartedly support my appointment as Protector of the Realm.”
“I’d rather walk back to the dungeon and heat up the torturer’s irons myself,” Renaud said. “Even if I sign it, I’ll be back in a cage before nightfall.”
“Brave talk,” Amaury said. He wanted Renaud to be as opposed to him as he possibly could. He didn’t want the man to entertain even the slightest hope that he might be able to strike a bargain. “And you are right. You will die in that cage, Renaud, and you will most certainly be back there long before nightfall, no matter what happens next, but let me put it another way.
“You wholeheartedly support my appointment as Protector of the Realm. You want to sign a document saying as much.” Renaud’s face twitched, once, then again. Amaury concentrated on his desire to the exclusion of all else. He changed the thought slightly, refined it, focussed it.
“I … I was delighted to hear of your appointment as Protector of the Realm,” Renaud said. “I’d be honoured to make my sentiments public.”
“Ha!” Amaury said, sitting back in his chair and throwing his hands up in delight. He had it now. “Perfect, and I appreciate the gesture, Renaud, but it really isn’t necessary.” He rang the bell on his desk. The guards entered. “Take Renaud back to the cells. I won’t be needing him again.”
They took the prisoner by the arms and led him out again; there was a bewildered expression on his face. Amaury watched them go, considering what he had just done. It appeared he achieved the desired effect—but not by framing it as a conscious want. Instead, he’d had to develop the thought into a more visceral desire. That seemed to run contrary to what dal Drezony had believed. Still, what had she known? She was a little more skilled at creating magical lights than anyone else, but that was about it. There was so much more to magic than she had been able to comprehend, and it was now all at his fingertips.
He took a deep breath and drummed his fingers on his desk. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself. He had convinced one man who hated him. That was a long way from convincing thousands of people at one go. Or was it? His words and thoughts had addressed Renaud. From the balcony, his words and thoughts would address a mass of people. One target in both cases, after a fashion. The power he needed was all there. He could feel it. But to allow so much to course through him? The thought sent a shiver across his skin.
CHAPTER 40
It didn’t take Solène long to find out where the dragon was being kept. A few topics dominated Mirabay’s conversations, and the great golden dragon, being readied for public display, was one of them. Despite the anger and tension that filled the city, people talked about it excitedly—who wouldn’t want to see a living, breathing creature that up until a few months previously had been a thing of legend?
From a vantage point across the street, Solène surveyed the building—an old, open-air duelling amphitheatre that despite extensive and obvious recent work still showed signs of having been neglected for many years. Looking at the lattice, ironwork dome, she wondered how they hoped to keep the creature contained by such means. Reaching to the Fount was now as natural an act as drawing a breath; the Telastrian steel welded into the bands appeared benignly, strips of darkness outlined by the glowing blue energy of the Fount. Clever, she thought. She suspected some of her former brothers and sisters from the Order must have been responsible for that. She couldn’t imagine the labourers had come up with it by themselves.
They presented a problem—the labourers. Solène could see a number of them moving about and was confident there were even more she couldn’t. That she would have to wait until darkness was a given. Even with magical help, she wouldn’t be able to do what was needed with watchers nearby. Once the alarm was raised, all hell would break loose, and that might mean the dragon not getting away. Solène had no idea how long it would take the goldscale to adapt to enlightenment—would it happen instantly, as it had with her, or would it take longer because the dragon was coming from a baser state? She needed to make sure time was available if necessary.
Solène had decided to try to find somewhere to wait until dark when people around her began to chatter excitedly, as if sharing important news. She couldn’t quite make out what was being said, so she went in search of one of the city’s many criers. When she found one, he was repeating the same message over and over—the Lord Protector of Mirabay would be making an announcement to the people that afternoon.