The First Confessor (59 page)

She wasn’t far. She considered trying to run at him in order to touch him, but Lothain was acting unusually cautious, which was making her suspicious. He had forced her to agree to the marriage. He was well aware that she was not happy about it. She guessed that he might fear that she would try to assassinate him with a knife. But she had no knife on her. There was no place for it in the dress the seamstresses had made for her overnight. Other than her power, she was unarmed.

Lothain wouldn’t know that, though. If she ran toward him, he was likely to fear an attack and use his gift to drop her halfway there. He was so close, but he was far enough away to kill her if he wanted and she would never get her chance.

Magda didn’t know what to do. If she couldn’t touch him, she couldn’t use her power. If she couldn’t use her power, her entire plan was dead.

She had the growing sense that something was very wrong.

Lothain’s smirk seemed to confirm her suspicion.

Magda did her best to curb her anxiety and tried not to let herself be distracted by worry that her entire plan was unraveling. She reasoned that as the wedding ceremony began, perhaps after Lothain was installed as First Wizard, the council would have to bring the two of them together to be married. That had always been the procedure. She reasoned that it only made sense that he was to be installed as First Wizard before he took his wife. She would just have to be patient.

Still, she had the sense that something wasn’t right.

“Why are you in a white dress?” Lothain asked in a low voice from where he stood watching her from a dozen feet way. It was clear that he was not pleased but he didn’t want the crowd to hear him. “I told you to pick any color but white.”

“This is the day of my rebirth. White is perfect for the occasion.”

When he glanced deliberately from her face to her chest and then back up again, he did not look pleased. She knew that he had ordered the neckline to show ample cleavage.

“It looks awfully plain,” he grumbled. “And . . . modest for such a grand event.”

“Are you more interested in the dress than what is in it, then?”

Lothain’s gaze drifted down the length of her again, at the way the dress was cut to fit her every curve. The sight brought his own private, unreadable thoughts behind his black eyes.

The dress, made of the satiny white material she had selected, was unadorned. The women who had made it had followed Magda’s instructions perfectly in every detail. It hugged her curves in a way that gave it a feminine elegance no amount of lace and needlework embellishment could have matched.

The neckline was cut square. It complemented the cut of the dress perfectly and added to the grace of the design. It was a dress unlike any Magda had ever seen. For that matter, it was unlike anything anyone in the room had seen, and that was just what Magda had wanted to accomplish. Rather than draw attention to itself in an attempt to define beauty, it instead revealed the underlying beauty of the woman wearing it.

But it was meant to be more than simply an unexpected look for a dress. It was meant to be a lasting symbol.

It was a Confessor’s dress.

Lothain flashed her a sly smile before turning his attention to the crowd.

“This was to be a joyous occasion,” he said in a voice loud enough to carry across the sprawling room. The crowd quieted, looking unsure at what he meant. “I’m afraid that while I am to be installed as First Wizard, and that will go forward, there will be no wedding.”

Their unspoken question answered, the crowd erupted in chatter. Much of it unhappy at the news. Magda stood as stunned as everyone else. Lothain held his hands up, calling for silence.

“I’m sorry to have to inform you of this at this late moment, but I have only just learned the truth a short time ago, learned that Magda Searus had ulterior motives for agreeing to marry me. In truth, she harbored a monstrous reason.

“Her deadly plan was devious in its simplicity. It turns out that she only wanted to marry me so that she could bed me as her husband.”

Lothain let the scattering of chuckles spread, only to die out when he didn’t join in. Magda could sense, more than she saw, soldiers closing in behind her. There was nowhere to run.

“She wanted to bed me as her husband,” he said in a clear voice that everyone could hear, an accusatory tone honed as head prosecutor, “because she planned to stab me to death in the night. She only wanted to marry me to be able to get past those brave men who protect me, get close enough so that she could assassinate me as I slept beside her.”

He lifted an arm toward her as he gazed out over the crowd. “You see, Magda Searus is a traitor. But she is no ordinary traitor. She is the architect of all the strange murders that have been taking place here at the Keep.”

He held up a hand, forestalling the questions. “I’ve thoroughly investigated her nefarious activities. Multiple witnesses have come forth. They testified to having seen her sneaking around in the night, hiding her face, meeting with mysterious people in the shadows.”

Magda stared toward the man. Two of Lothain’s private guards seized her arms from behind, preventing her from getting closer to Lothain.

“You accuse me of treason because I was seen outside at night? Where is your proof of such a charge!” Magda called across the dais.

“Proof? You would like the proof?” He cast a glance across the stunned crowd watching rapt attention. “Yes, I think proof is in order.”

He gestured off over the heads of people standing behind the council desk, and men dragged someone forward out of the shadows. It was Tilly. The woman was covered in filth and blood. Her bloodied face hung nearly lifeless, as did her broken arm.

“This woman,” Lothain said, “is a worker here in the Keep. Perhaps many of you have seen her, thinking nothing of her comings and goings. It turns out that she was a clever criminal, but we were finally able to get her to admit to her part in the crimes Lady Searus has committed against the Midlands. She long helped Baraccus with his schemes and then later Lady Searus in her plans. She guided Lady Searus through the lower reaches of the Keep, where together they murdered our spiritist.”

The crowd gasped. People had heard the terrifying stories of Isidore’s murder. Whispers broke out, swelling to fill the council chambers.

Magda said nothing. She knew it was useless. No one was going to listen to her, and besides, Lothain would simply use his gift to silence her. She could release her power on the men holding her, but that would waste it. Merritt had warned her that using the Confessor’s power would sap her strength and she likely would need to rest for hours, possibly days, before being able to summon it again.

She didn’t want to waste her one chance with her only weapon on the soldiers holding her. That would accomplish nothing. She looked to the shadows, wondering if Merritt would do something. With all the gifted and armed men in the room, it would be foolish to try just then, but knowing Merritt that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t.

Lothain held up a hand again, calling for quiet. “This woman confessed the entire plot.” He turned to Tilly and lifted her chin. “Isn’t that right?”

Tilly’s fearful eyes turned from him to Magda. Tears started coursing tracks down through the dirt on her face.

“Say what he wants you to say,” Magda told the woman in a quiet, confidential voice. “It is useless for you to speak the truth right now. Tell him what he wants to hear.”

Tilly looked shamefaced. “But . . .”

“I know what they’ve done to you,” Magda whispered, “and I don’t blame you. Don’t throw your life away for nothing of value. Tell them what they want to hear.”

“The truth has value,” Tilly whispered.

“It will,” Magda assured her, “but not from you, not right now. Do as I ask. Say what he wishes you to say.”

Tilly looked out at the crowd, tears streaming down her face. “What Prosecutor Lothain says be the . . .” She couldn’t say the word. “It is as he says. We both be traitors.”

“Traitors,” Lothain added in a loud voice, “that she admitted have killed a number of our most valuable people. There is no just verdict for such crimes except execution!”

Some in the crowd lifted fists, shouting their anger that this was the source of the mysterious murders, the war going so poorly, and all their other troubles, echoing the sentiment that both Tilly and Magda should be executed immediately.

Others in the crowd, though, looked disheartened, distraught, and confused by what was happening. This was to have been the day of a joyous wedding, of the Keep coming together in unity, a reason for hope in the midst of troubled times.

A few people broke out in tears. Others turned their faces away. They had believed in Magda as well as Baraccus, and now that confidence was shaken or even shattered. Magda could see in the tormented expressions that some people felt that their faith had been betrayed.

“Why would Lady Searus do all this?” Elder Cadell asked from behind the desk, his voice carrying out over the crowd.

“You see,” Lothain explained, “her plan all along was to discredit me.” He turned from the elder to the audience. “She knew how effective I’ve been as head prosecutor. I’ve ferreted out, prosecuted, and executed a number of her fellow conspirators. I was getting too close to the heart of the plot and she feared I would uncover her deadly plans. She wanted to stop me from exposing the rest of the traitors here at the Keep so that they could continue to sabotage our efforts, so she made wild accusations about me, hoping not only to throw me off track but to damage my ability to do my duty to our people.

“When so many of you good people maintained your steadfast faith in me, that plan failed to work out as well as she had hoped. She became impatient and decided to use her feminine wiles to worm her way into my life, taking the route of my heart. I believed her sincerity at first, as did so many of you, but in the end I came to see through her schemes.”

Some in the crowd shouted angrily for Magda’s head.

Magda maintained the mask that showed nothing.

Even though the soldiers were holding her by her arms, she managed to lift her hand out enough that the crowd could see that she meant for them to see the ring she was wearing.

“The symbol on this ring is at the heart of what is happening,” she said to the people watching. “Lothain and those he is loyal to seek to breach this. If they succeed, you will all die, but that will not be the end of your suffering. If they breach this, your souls will never be able to join the good spirits. They will instead wander between worlds, forever lost.”

The wave of worried murmurs started in again. She knew that none in the crowd could see what was on the ring, but it succeeded in stirring their curiosity. Lothain couldn’t help but notice.

“What is that you have, there?” he demanded.

“Something you fear,” Magda said with a defiant smile.

When Lothain saw the smile he stormed across the dais.

“Let me see that.” He gestured to the soldiers to release her arms so that she could show him the ring. “You heard me, let me see what it is you have there.”

Magda lifted her hand to show him the ring with the Grace, but she kept it just out of his reach.

“This? Merritt gave it to me.”

He had given it to her when she had come back from beyond the veil. She had traveled the lines of the Grace and returned. She had lived what the Grace represented.

She’d told him that she knew she was safe in his hands, that she knew he would protect her. That was when he had given her the ring. He said he wanted her to have it as a symbol of his protection.

It meant more to her than anything she had ever been given.

It meant everything to her.

“Merritt? Merritt is a traitor and has been arrested as well,” Lothain said out toward the crowd before turning back to Magda. “Why would he give such an important and sacred object to you, to a nobody?”

Magda arched an eyebrow. “A nobody? He gave it to me because I am a protector of the Grace.” She pulled her hand back out of his reach when he grabbed for it again. “Because I am a champion of truth.”

“Champion of truth? You’re a nobody!”

“If I was a nobody you wouldn’t be so eager to see me dead. Just like these people here, you know that I am devoted to the truth. That’s why you want to eliminate me.”

“You are a nobody! Worse than a nobody, you’re a traitor devoted only to murdering our people and you will be executed for your crimes! Now give that to me!”

Lothain charged forward like an angry bull that was being repeatedly taunted. He reached out again, snatching for her hand.

Magda again pulled the hand back, drawing him onward in a rush. Then, in an instant, she reversed her retreat and stepped into his charge.

Magda planted her hand in the center of his barrel chest, becoming a wall against his full weight.

In that instant, he had made the last mistake of his life: he had let her touch him.

Magda knew that it was not necessary for her to invoke the power within her. It was hers, now, always there. She had but to release her restraint of it.

She felt no pressure of his advance against her hand because the world had already stopped in the instant that she made contact. Lothain might as well have been a feather coming at her.

Time was hers.

This was the man who, along with his fellow spies, directed the dream walkers toward the minds they wanted to sneak into and snatch. This was the man, along with his fellow spies, who awakened the dead and sent them out in the night to kill people. This was the man who had sent one of the walking dead to tear Isidore apart.

This was not the prosecutor who protected the people of the Midlands from those doing evil, this was the vicious enemy who plotted against them, who planned their demise, who served evil.

And now he was hers.

The inner violence of her power’s cold, coiled force slipping its bonds was breathtaking. Unleashed, that power exploded through her, surging up from the depths of the dark core deep within, obediently inundating every fiber of her being.