If he’d kidnapped an aristocratic girl, I was entirely sure he’d taken girls from the neighborhood first. It wasn’t as if the local gentry would’ve cared as long as he left their children alone. No one would pick a fight with a sorcerer over a commoner.
I shoved the thought out of my mind as I worked my way through the network, disabling his spells one by one. There was no alarm. I built my spells up carefully, then opened the window and scrambled inside. The air was heavy with magic, pressing down on my senses and making it hard for me to feel anything beyond a few meters, but there was no alarm. Starlight followed me into the room, one hand on her sword. She’d have been better off with the gun. She didn’t seem to be a blademaster, and it was rare for a magician to be killed by a swordsman.
“Be careful where you put your hands,” I said. “Don’t touch anything unless I check it first.”
Starlight nodded, keeping her hands to herself.
Lord Dragon appeared to have scattered traps everywhere, even within his own home. There was no shortage of cautionary tales of magicians who’d accidentally killed themselves after booby-trapping their own house, but our unwitting host didn’t appear to have heard any of the stories. I wondered, idly, who’d taught him. There were more efficient ways to defend his territory than scattering hexes seemingly at random.
I sent a handful of recon spells moving through the door and into the corridor beyond and waited to see the results. The corridor appeared to be empty, although the spells couldn’t reach very far beyond the door. I opened it carefully and peered into the corridor.
Portraits lined it, the eyes charmed to follow us as we walked out of the room. They didn’t seem to be linked to any defensive spells, but it was hard to tell. There was so much magic in the air that it was growing increasingly hard to pick out Lord Dragon’s charms. He had to be damaging his own spells.
I shivered, my earlier thoughts mocking me. Perhaps he was a necromancer after all. If he’d found a way to make necromancy practical…
Something moved ahead of me. A door opened, and a serving girl—naked, save for the collar around her neck—stepped into the corridor. I stared, distracted for a few vital seconds.
I was torn between astonishment at her perfect body, her nakedness drawing my eye, and horror at the spells woven into the collar. Looking at them was like looking at something fundamentally wrong, something so horrific, it shouldn’t exist. I’d seen the aftermath of mercenary raids, or the twisted remnants of people who wandered into wild magic regions and came out changed, but this…
The girl raised her eyes, saw me, and screamed. And charged.
I swore and cast a freeze spell. The slave collar was designed for a single purpose. The wearer would follow instructions given to her by her master, including standing orders to attack intruders on sight.
Her eyes were wide with horror even as she stopped in her tracks. I could sense the slave collar struggling against my spell, pushing her to keep fighting even though she was hopelessly frozen. She had no magic of her own, no way to free herself.
I leaned forward, trying to find a way to remove the collar. I’d never made a slave collar myself, but I knew enough to be wary. The slaver might well have keyed the collar to kill the wearer if someone tried to free the slave without the owner’s consent.
Starlight hit me.
I jerked forward, twisting automatically, since she’d hit my shoulder.
I turned and saw her staggering toward me, her fist swinging at my jaw. She wasn’t moving like herself. She moved as if she were drunk—or as if she were being puppeted by an outside force.
I swallowed hard as I realized she was no longer in control of her own body. Her face was a rictus of pain and regret, and something else, as if the force controlling her was not wholly used to manipulating her body.
She took another swing at me, telegraphing her move so openly, I had no trouble dodging it.
My magic sparked, casting a spell to stop her. The magic flickered and died before it even touched her bare skin. I gritted my teeth and punched her in the nose. Blood stained my hand, but she kept coming. I guessed whoever was in control of her had made sure he wouldn’t feel her pain.
Starlight drew her sword and hacked at me. I turned and ran, moving down the corridor as fast as I could. I was completely confused. I hadn’t sensed any spell capable of taking her over so completely, so quickly, yet she was clearly not in control of herself.
I could hear her chasing me, the magic in the air making it difficult to cast a spell to slow her down. A dozen options ran through my head, all certain to work, but at the cost of hurting or even killing her outright. I wasn’t sure what to do. If she wasn’t in control of herself…
I glanced back and saw her face, twisted unnaturally. What the hell happened to her?
I shaped a spell—the most powerful cancellation spell I knew. It would disrupt, if not destroy, every spell within reach—including the one controlling her. There’d be no hope of hiding our presence if a sizeable chunk of Lord Dragon’s spells vanished in a single catastrophic moment, but I suspected our presence was no longer secret, anyway. The serving girl had screamed, and something had overwhelmed Starlight.
I grabbed all the power I could muster, channeled it into the spell, and—
Something wrapped around my ankles and yanked hard. I fell to the ground, the magic dissipating as I landed badly. I could feel something slithering over my body and realized, to my horror, that wooden vines were growing out of the floorboards. They grabbed my hands, pulling them behind my back and wrapping around my wrists to keep me immobile.
I heard a grunt and looked up. A middle-aged man was looking back at me. I knew without a shadow of doubt that it was Lord Dragon.
“I wouldn’t try to cancel any spells,” he said in an oily tone that made me want to hit him. He spoke like a man so assured of his own superiority that he could play with his captives all day. “I’ve got your friend’s heart.”
I stared at him. Lord Dragon was surprisingly fat—unusual in a magician—with greasy black hair, a fleshy face, and beady dark eyes. He wore a purple toga long enough to cover everything below the neckline. A single jewel hung around this neck, glowing with magical power. His fingers rested on the gem as he stared down at me, magic glittering around his fingertips. Up close, I could see threads of magic linking the gem to Starlight.
I glanced at her and shuddered. She was standing there helplessly, slumped over like a man-sized puppet whose strings had been cut. I swallowed hard as it dawned on me what had happened to her. Lord Dragon had warped his power into her heart, taking her so completely that he could do anything to her. I didn’t know if I’d ever met the real Starlight. The person I’d met might be—
No. That couldn’t be true. Starlight had presented herself as an experienced adventurer, and I didn’t think that could be faked. She’d been real, and yet… she’d also been under his control. How much of the story she’d given me had been true? She hadn’t come across as a liar, yet most unsuccessful liars tended to be killed very quickly. I wondered, suddenly, if she’d been sent to bring a new victim to her master or… or what?
Lord Dragon kept speaking, prattling on like a man impressed by the sound of his own voice. I knew the type. It wasn’t enough to be rich or powerful, handsome or strong; they wanted to gloat, to make sure you knew you were screwed, and how badly you were screwed. I’d met mercenary captains who were happy to boast about the number of towns they’d sacked, or women they’d taken.
Perversely, it was almost a good sign. A man who wanted to gloat was almost always insecure, wanting to hide his lack of confidence under a show of strength. I reminded myself not to take it for granted. Lord Dragon had enough power to be extremely dangerous.