The Castrofax (30 page)

“We will have no peace from you,” the Head
Mage replied.

“In a sort. Y’ have something I want, ac I
have something y’ want.” He paused for effect. “I will trade y’ the
Silex par the Class Ten in the Castrofax.”

“Ludicrous!” an older woman with short white
hair yelled. He raised a brow at her, and she averted her eyes
wisely.

“You propose an unfair trade,” the Head Mage
replied. “Mage Gabriel can never be free.”

Ryker raised a finger and smiled, chuckling
for a moment mirthlessly. “Won’t he now? Y’ tell me where the Silex
is, ac I will free your Class Ten.”

“You cannot open a Castrofax,” a
blond-haired, green-coated man replied from the floor.

Ryker chuckled again and made a sucking noise
with his cheek. “
I
certainly can.”

The room fell silent as he expected it would.
Revelations of such a statement undid years of legends, but he had
built a failsafe in them upon creation in case one of his Arch
Mages fell victim to the Castrofax. He never told anyone but his
chosen four, and revealing such information would set him back in
leverage.

“No one knows where the Silex is,” a man in
gray coat growled, his head pinned against the table.

“Ne even the Head Mage?” Ryker asked. “Surely
the Head Mage knows where all the relics are. Tell me, where is
Pike’s Ring of Rebirth, hum? What of Maxine’s Excellyon? I know y’
have Evony’s, so y’ must have others, including the remaining
Castrofax. So, let me ask one more time, where is the Silex?”

The Head Mage tightened his lips. “It was
hidden long ago. Why tell a Head Mage its location when it is meant
to be secret?” He frowned with a sudden realization, “And you do
not have the Class Ten.”

Ryker waggled a finger and clicked his cheek.
“But I control the strings.”

“Traitor!” a pretty Fire Mage with a thick
braid yelled. “I knew Nolen was not working alone!”

Ryker regarded the white-haired man across
from him and searched his face for a lie. He had never been good at
discerning emotions, relying on his power to browbeat the
information instead. His Arch Mage Maxine had been very talented at
reading the truth. The Head Mage seemed to be weighing
something.

“Why do you want the Silex?” he asked.

“Y’ do ne know?” Ryker smirked.

The man’s eyes narrowed. “I know. I want to
hear it from your mouth.”

“Y’ don’t really know.” Ryker chuckled. “Then
I shant tell y’.”

The older man put on a challenging face. “You
want it to raise your Arch Mages from the spirit world, to complete
what you began two Ages ago. You may as well kill me now and take
what you came here for.”

The hall fell silent as the Council looked at
their Head Mage. Ryker was surprised the Head Mage was so well
informed. It unnerved him a touch.

“I am here t’ negotiate a trade, but seeing
as y’ don’t know where mine Silex be, I have no reason t’
stay.”

Ryker’s eyes and hair became white, and the
people gasped as he slowly pulled black threads from his chest. He
almost stopped at their exclamations of surprise, astonished they
did not know, and laughed. The Mages had fallen so far they did not
even know the Void Element; a skill difficult to attain but vital
for power succession. He carried on for a while, leaving them
befuddled. “Know this, your Councilwoman Selene knew far more than
she should have about the Silex, so if y’ think I won’t find it, y’
best be preparing yourself elsewise.” Jaden’s wards prevented
anyone from shifting or sidestepping in, but anyone could leave by
the same means—a foolish flaw. He laid a shift-pattern and left
them with his echoing laughter.

Fear closed Gabriel’s throat with each
deliberate step through the dungeons. His fists clenched so tightly
the nails dug into his palms. His eyes flitted to every shifting
shadow ever wary of Nolen’s allies who could easily abduct him in
such a vulnerable place. The Prince strode ahead him with a quick
pace, his own fists bunched in anger. Their boots echoed through
the natural caves and mixed with the voices of men in cells.

A jailor led the way with a set of keys hung
around his thick neck. He was a broad man and stood inches taller
than Gabriel. Though he walked with a limp, it was obvious from the
scars on his hands that he was a face that knew battle.

The air was still and stale, thick with
moisture and the occasional whiff of urine. It grew colder as they
wound their way through the rock. Darkness pressed all around them
save only the lantern in the jailor’s fist.

Gabriel wondered who or what Nolen stashed in
the darkness that would give him reason to surrender. Robyn was
safe, he was sure of it, and unless by some chance the Prince had
her down here, there was nothing alive that could persuade him.

The jailor stopped before a large, iron
banded wooden door set into the stone. Around the door were old tan
bricks, an unusual sight in the gray dungeon. The door unlocked and
gave with a shriek, buckling open. A faint flickering came from
within the room, along with the aroma of unwashed skin.

Nolen took the torch and stepped in without
hesitation, walking to the center of the small room. Gabriel
stepped up slowly to the threshold and kept one eye on the jailor
in case the man closed the door on him. Nolen saw Gabriel did not
follow and snapped his fingers pointing at the floor before him.
Gabriel took another step in and stopped abruptly.

What small trace of Elements still lingered
in his senses vanished like a blown out candle. He made a guttural
sound and tried to step back, but the jailor closed the door behind
him. His heart raced, and sweat prickled his brow. Every palace and
castle had an incanted room to hold Mage prisoners, which meant
only one thing….

A scraping sound came from his left, and
Gabriel surveyed the room. It had four small cells in it with
barred fronts that opened to the center. A few candles lit the
cells, and Gabriel saw a slender, ragged man with a brown beard
stand putting his wan hands on the bars.

“Got yourself a Lord this time?” the man
asked in an Aidenmarian accent. His voice was thin and parched, his
skin much the same, and he looked withered under what was once a
fine coat and breeches.

“Be silent,” Nolen snapped and looked at
Gabriel with a satisfied smile. “Every worthy establishment has a
room where Mages can be kept without risk of using their Elements.
You have never been in a room like this before I wager.”

Gabriel swallowed and pressed his fingers
against the door, trying to feel for any gap that would allow him
access to the outside. The door held.

Nolen chuckled. “If you like, you can stay a
fortnight or two in here.”

“Boy, I am Mage Malain Whitestone. You mus’
get word t’ my family I am alive.”

Gabriel looked at the Aidenmarian and saw the
pleading in his gaunt face. “Does the Queen know these men are
here, or is this your doing?”

“You learn quickly,” Nolen quipped, “But do
you remember?” He beckoned with a hand, and Gabriel slowly pried
himself off the door. The cell to his right was empty, but to his
far left another man with white hair blinked in the circle of
light. He looked cleaner and a little plump still, but his face was
pale, and his eyes held a sense of hopelessness.

“I think you might know this man,” Nolen said
and held the torch to Gabriel’s far right. “If not, then he knows
you.”

Gabriel took another step forward, passed a
stone wall that divided the cells, and warily peered around it. His
heart caught in his throat.

“Father?” he exclaimed and flew the last few
steps to him, grasping his hands through the bars. Cordis’s face
was thin, and his eyes blinked rapidly in the light of the torch,
but they welled up with tears when they saw his son. Gabriel
gripped his shoulders, feeling wasted muscle and bone.

“I knew you would come,” Cordis whispered,
and a tear slid down his face into his beard. His once-black hair
had grayed years ago speckled heavily with white. “I told them all
you would come.”

“Yes, he said a lot of things,” Nolen agreed.
“Like where you were, where you would go, what form you would take.
It was easy to find you in the end.”

“Why would you do this?” Gabriel roared at
Nolen, taking a hand off his father to face the Prince. “What did
my father do to you?”

“Oh, nothing to
me
,” Nolen
smirked.

“Then what did you do to
him
?” Gabriel
sneered. He knew his father would never reveal his secrets unless
under great duress.

“It doesn’t matter,” Cordis said and gripped
his arm. “You’re here to free us.” Gabriel slowly turned to his
father, his lips parted as his face said
no
. Cordis’s face
fell. “Then why are you here?”

Nolen grabbed the back of Gabriel’s collar
and jerked it down. “He is my prisoner.” Holding the light aloft,
he revealed the glinting band of copper. Cordis’s eyes looked at it
in confusion. His eyes shifted to Gabriel’s hand still clamped
around his shoulder and pushed the coat sleeve back to see a
matching band. His face became a thundercloud.

He lunged at Nolen through the bars, raking
jagged nails through the air. “You put my boy in a Castrofax! I’ll
wring your scrawny neck, you son of a whore!” The prisoners let out
a shout of dismay and disbelief, and Cordis reached for Nolen as
the Prince took a step back. There were tears in his eyes as he
looked again at the neckpiece.

“Mage,” Nolen stated. Gabriel had gotten used
to Nolen never calling him by his first name, and he responded with
a glance. “If you submit to the will of Queen Cathlyn, I will let
your father go.”

“You mean to your will,” Gabriel snapped.

Nolen continued. “You will also no longer
balk nor speak unless asked a question, and you will not meet my
eyes. You will do as I say without question.”

“Not the Arconians,” Gabriel replied.
“Everything else but not them.”

Cordis clenched his son’s arm. “Do not allow
him an inch over you. I will be safe here.”

“Not without food and water,” Nolen
snickered.

Gabriel looked around the room at the two
other men. “Free them as well, and I’ll go quietly.”

“They are not part of the bargain, and you
will go quietly regardless.”

Gabriel closed his eyes and searched for
leverage. There was one piece of knowledge he had that would trump
all else. It would give him all the advantage he needed, but
Robyn’s life was not worth these men. His only choices were submit,
or let his father die. He met Nolen’s gaze.

“You let my father stay with me, let him come
to no harm and with no threat of imprisonment.”

“You raise your hand or voice against me, and
be assured he will be threatened.”

Gabriel gritted his teeth.

“Stars above, do you want me to throw in a
croft of land and a bouquet of roses?” Nolen snapped.

“No, but I want these men to be given proper
treatment befitting their status,” Gabriel snapped back. “Baths,
new clothes, food, drink, books, and lanterns.”

“Fine!” Nolen growled. “You are in no place
to be making bargains.”

Gabriel steeled his back. He could live with
submission, but bedding the Arconians was different. He would find
a way around them.

“Then I agree.” Gabriel replied.

“No, boy,” Cordis hissed, but the deal was
made.

Nolen unlocked the grate, and Gabriel jerked
it open, pulling his father out. The man had wasted beneath his
clothes and smelled like he had not bathed in quite a while. But
the oily smell of his hair was still his father’s. Twice his age,
Cordis had been a young father and a fine joker to match. His
absence left Gabriel lonely.

“You cannot, Gabriel,” Cordis argued,
gripping his son’s arms. “No Class Ten is slave to any man.”

“Be reassured he did not come easily,” Nolen
sneered and made his way to the door.

“How?” Cordis whispered.

“He sent his Air Guard after me,” Gabriel
explained.

“And the Guard?”

Nolen turned and marked both men with a
glare. “Four thousand two hundred marched, five hundred twenty
returned.” With the Guard destroyed, Nolen was left
unprotected.

Gabriel had seen the look on the faces of men
he slaughtered when he closed his eyes. Each man was a mother’s
son, young and assured death would not come for them when they were
so strong and capable. No man knew when death would call their
name, but Gabriel knew with a single wrist-flick he could decide
quickly for most. Some soldiers in the soft of night begged the
stars for greatness and longevity, but if death was meant for them,
they asked for a swift one. Gabriel left many hundred still on the
battlefield wounded, blubbering for relief or an end. He had no
right to decide when a man stopped living. To cut off the spirit
from the body was unforgivable, irreversible, and so shocking it
left him reeling and cold.

Gabriel looked at the two men in the cells.
“I will come for you,” he muttered. As he stepped out, he nearly
walked into his father who stopped, breathing deeply with his palms
up. The Elements flowed through him. This far into the rock, there
was no living Earth energy to be felt, but Water energy dripped all
around.

Nolen started the party moving, and the Lenis
men kept pace to stay within the circle of light. Cordis began to
tire after a few paces and Gabriel put an arm under him to keep him
moving. Nolen realized they were lagging.

“I will send you an Arconian tonight,” the
Prince stated and quickened his pace, leaving them in the hall with
only the glow of his torch to guide them.

“How did this happen?” Gabriel whispered when
Nolen was well away.

Cordis breathed hard so they slowed. “I was
ambushed on the Two Forks Road just outside Sabin,” he answered
after a moment. “They brought me here.” He said nothing else on the
matter, but there had to be more. Nolen would not capture a man
without cause. “Is…is
she
safe?”