The mask made it nearly impossible to guess his expression, but she thought he smiled when he added: "Primarily I will save the Intelligence Service a great deal of following you about and watching what you do. And serve to frighten off others wanting more than to watch."
"Perhaps you can tell us about the recent disappearance of mages while we return to the carriages," Illidian said, which told Rennyn she was leaning too heavily on his arm.
"Are you a mage, Dezart Samarin?" There was a recent casting about him, in addition to the enchantments on the mask. Healing magic?
"In theory," he said, ushering them toward the entry hall. "I haven’t built strength with practice, or summoned a focus. I’m not chasing your techniques, if that matters to you, though we are seeing some impact of them: injuries from attempts to use Thought Magic. One death reported so far."
Rennyn bit her lip, but the guilt stabbed less than she’d expected. Ultimately, she couldn’t control the actions of others.
"I really am going to have to release some kind of guide," she said. "Although there will still be accidents, and people totally unsuited to Thought Magic making the attempt, it will at least give them some idea of the safest way to go about it."
"That will lessen the number of deaths." Samarin’s voice held just a hint of forbearance, as if she had apologised for an error. "As to the disappearances: the only firm similarity among the lost is their strength as mages. They were not taken in obvious order, and Mezuna and Keffar—considered the strongest in Kole—have not been taken, but all who have vanished are in the very upper tier in terms of unenhanced power.
"They’ve vanished at different times of day, but mostly at night. Two separate witnesses have claimed to have seen a mage literally vanish. Each assumed at the time it was a guise-shield, and only mentioned the incident when the mage was reported missing. That has led to a flood of reports of vanishing mages, who it eventuated were using guide-shields."
"Broken locks? Signs of struggle?" Illidian asked.
"None. Everything suggests voluntary departure. Multiple reports of a trace of strong magic a short distance from where the mage had been staying, but no clear sense of its intent. No reports of strangers—beyond the usual that follow any crime or event. Most mages have been taking precautions. Eslay Feralan, gone only five days, had hired guards and warded her rooms. The wards weren’t tripped, and the guards saw nothing, but she left some time during the night."
"Do you know what wards she used?"
"Six Points Exclusion and the Non-named Alert."
Strong, fundamental castings. "A magic detect may have been more useful. Have any of the missing been young mages, strong but not yet having summoned a focus? Or were taken while not wearing their focus?"
"No very young mages. Details concerning their focuses I will find out." They’d reached the entrance to find their coaches waiting, the hired drivers goggling interestedly. A girl in livery was holding an over-tall horse, saddled and laden with bags. It was the kind of animal that jigged and danced about, but Samarin didn’t seem to find this a bad thing, nodding approvingly and taking the reins. "Compiled dossiers are to be delivered in the morning. I will follow your coach."
Another servant set a long cloak around his shoulders and he mounted, apparently intending to ride despite the light rain. Rennyn obediently climbed into her coach, hoping that there would be no more interruptions to keep her from a bed that didn’t bounce and rock. Her head was starting to throb, and she very much wanted quiet, so was glad when Meniar and Faral deftly channelled all her students into the second carriage.
"Samarin seems liable to organise us with ruthless efficiency if not checked," she said, curling against Illidian. "But is probably more useful than inconvenient. Hopefully."
"Did you believe his claim not to be a mage?"
"I don’t see what he’d gain by lying. It’s obvious he has a grounding in theory, as you do. Unusual for anyone with mage talent to study the art, but not to practice it though. There’s a distinctly odd aura around him too, very subtle, and that mask is thick with enchantment. I’ll have a better idea of what it’s doing when I have a chance to study him away from so much background power. As he will study us. Would you be interested in working for the Kolan Emperor?"
"I would consider it." Illidian sounded almost surprised, and let out his breath slowly. "He has been a balanced ruler—and compassionate when compared to many of those who came before him. His long reign has given the Empire a stability it has never previously enjoyed, and what I know of his judgments I have agreed with. But Kole is not our home."
It was rare for him to allow himself to sound so tired. Rennyn curled her fingers through his, studying the blunted close-clipped tips, then held his hand to her cheek. Home to her was Illidian. Seb was nearly as important, but Illidian had become the single absolute. And she could do no more than support him as he struggled to heal, to find some measure of the equilibrium she and the Black Queen had destroyed.
Tucking herself against his shoulder, Rennyn wished she had the power to spare him nightmares.
Chapter Thirteen
"Who is the boy in the room next to yours?" Auri asked, after she had pulled Fallon into the Dream.
"An Imperial spy," Fallon said, and explained as he followed Auri through the wall to look the sleeping Rhael Samarin over. Without his mask, he did almost look a boy, though Fallon guessed he was eighteen or nineteen.
"Spy’s the wrong word when they do it openly," Auri said. "Observer."
"Trouble," Fallon said. "Here to learn as much as he can on behalf of the Empire, and—"
"And what? What other secret is Duchess Surclere keeping? Does it matter if the Empire watches?"
"There’s secrets and there’s, well, uncomfortable attention. Still, not so bad to have someone along that they trust even less than me."
He trailed in Auri’s wake, describing in more detail their unplanned detour to the Imperial palace, then regretting it when she sighed heavily and said:
"You get to do all the fun things."
"And I get to do all the dull things, too," he replied, since it was better to push back when this mood threatened Auri. "You’d have hated so many days cramped in coaches. Let’s look for the secret library, since you’ve got me up."
"What secret library?"
"Where the Surclere research and histories were kept. Duchess Surclere knows there’s a hidden room, but doesn’t know where it is."
Auri brightened. "A proper hidden room?"
"Well, Duchess Surclere thinks it might be more of a cupboard. And it can’t be a very big one, or the servants would surely have found it when they cleaned this place up."
They moved quickly, since there was a limit to how long Fallon could wander around in the Dream. He had carefully chosen a central room so that most of the building’s five floors—from cellar to attic—were within reach his body’s tether. The place was still too big for them to be able to explore completely, but they managed to reach the larger part. Auri, humming cheerfully, purposefully walked through any wall that looked a likely candidate for hiding a room or cupboard, and since they had headed down, rather than up, it was not too long before she discovered that she couldn’t walk through the heavy stones of the cellar stairs.
"Some kind of ward?" she speculated, trying to poke a finger into the cracks. "I can tell when there’s a ward, though."
"I wonder if there is a casting that would hide a ward?" Fallon said. "But it’s been years since anyone’s been here: can any ward have lasted so long?"