Kirris could not allow that. She had been thinking her part in this was done, but now she knew she had more to do. She could not defeat Vond, but perhaps she could prevent the creation of more warlocks.
“You think about it,” Vond said. “You think about it, and decide – are you with me, or not? You have until I get back.” Then he dropped away from the ceiling, and like his victim of a moment before, swooped down the stairs and out of sight.
For a moment there was only stunned silence, but then the people in the corridor began to mutter to one another. Several of them cast worried glances down the stairs.
“I don’t trust him,” Kirris said, reversing her spell so that instead of going unnoticed, she would be the center of attention. “You heard how power-mad he is; do you really think he’d ever let any of us share in that? He’s never going to make any of us warlocks again. I don’t think he even can. He’ll just lead us on with promises, use us as slaves, and probably get us all killed. I mean, yes, he’s powerful, but he wants to fight the entire Wizards’ Guild! That’s insane! I say we should all get out of here while we still can.”
“She’s right,” a young man said.
“But I want my magic back!” someone protested.
“He’s not going to give it to you!” Kirris insisted, using her magic to make her words more persuasive. “If he really did make someone else into this new kind of warlock, where is he? Why not show us? It’s all lies. He’s trying to trick us; he can’t do it.”
Several voices spoke at once. “I don’t know…”
“What if he…”
“Maybe we should…”
But then they all fell silent, and every eye turned to stare at the stairs as Vond reappeared, rising up from below, his robe flapping in a nonexistent wind.
“Oh, I can do it,” he said, his gaze fixed on Kirris. “My former apprentice lived in Semma, in the Small Kingdoms; I transformed him fifteen years ago. He wasn’t Called.”
“Why should we believe you?” Kirris demanded, her heart pounding as she tried to hide her fear. “Where is this apprentice now?”
“I don’t know where he is,” Vond said. “I was Called, just like the rest of you, remember? I don’t know what happened to everyone I knew before.”
“But why haven’t we heard of him? A powerful warlock in the Small Kingdoms – wouldn’t we have heard?”
“Do you hear about every strong warlock? I don’t think so,” Vond replied.
“But in the Small Kingdoms? Warlocks are scarce there. The Wizards’ Guild doesn’t even allow warlocks in some of them!”
Vond cocked his head. “How did you know that?” he asked. “When were you Called? If it was after the ban, why are you here? Didn’t you have anywhere else to go?”
Kirris felt sweat break out on her forehead. “I…I was talking to someone…”
“No,” Vond said. “You’re lying. Your heart’s pounding, and you’re sweating.”
“I’m not lying. I’m terrified!” Kirris said. “Of you!”
“I suppose you… Wait.”
Kirris felt her skin crawl, though she did not know why. “Wait for what?”
“You aren’t a warlock,” Vond said accusingly. “You never were. You don’t have the thing in your head.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about -”
“You’re a witch!” Vond said. “What’s a witch doing here?”
“I… Some witches were Called on the Night of Madness, you know that,” she said desperately.
“You were never a warlock,” Vond said. “Did you think we can’t tell? How could we ever make apprentices if we couldn’t tell the difference? You weren’t a warlock!”
“All right, I wasn’t,” Kirris admitted, “but I heard… I didn’t have anywhere else to go, and I heard about this house, and -”
Vond shook his head, and Kirris felt her spells stripped away, wiped from her by Vond’s own magic, like a cloth wiping away dust. “You’re a witch, a strong witch, and you’ve been using a lot of magic, I can feel it. I can’t tell what you did with it, but I can see that you’ve been using energy, and that your muscles haven’t been working hard, so you’ve been working magic. You’ve been spying on us, haven’t you?”
“I wasn’t… I don’t…” Kirris was suddenly shoved back against the wall, pressed flat against the wallpaper, arms spread, palms out, head up.
“Or maybe…maybe you did more than watch,” Vond said. “Maybe you sent that dream. Maybe it wasn’t the wizards at all.”
Kirris tried to turn her head, to see what the others in the corridor were doing, but she could not move. Her eyes were fixed on Vond’s face, whether she wanted them to be or not. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
“Why did you do it?” Vond asked. “Is the Sisterhood trying to make me stop using magic? Did someone hire you?”
“I didn’t,” Kirris said.
“You wouldn’t have done it by yourself,” Vond said. “I don’t know you; you’d have no reason to do that to me. You must be here representing somebody.”
“I didn’t mean any harm,” Kirris said.
The invisible force holding her against the wall suddenly pressed harder; she felt plaster crack under her shoulder blades, and something broke in her left hand, sending shooting pain up her arm. “Any harm?” Vond bellowed. “You sent me a nightmare! You sent me the Call!”
“I didn’t want to,” Kirris said. She was beginning to have trouble breathing. “I tried to help.”
“Help who? Not me, certainly! Who were you helping? Who sent you?”
“No one!”
“You know you’re going to die if you don’t tell me the truth, don’t you?” Vond told her. “Was it the Sisterhood? I never thought they had any problem with warlocks, but you’re a witch, so perhaps I just missed it.”
“It… Not the Sisterhood,” Kirris said, struggling for breath.
“Then why a witch? Why did they send you, whoever they are?”
“I knew what the Calling felt like,” Kirris admitted. “I shared minds with a Called warlock, long ago.”
Vond’s eyes widened. “Did you? No wonder it felt so real! But who sent you? The overlord? Or…” His eyes widened further as a thought struck him. “Was it Sterren?”
“Who?”
Vond’s eyes narrowed again. “Not Sterren,” he said. “You aren’t that good a liar, not with your magic blocked. It wasn’t Sterren, then. Lord Azrad?”
“No.” Vond’s eyes seemed to be drilling into her head. Kirris knew that warlocks could not hear thoughts the way witches could, but they could see things, sense things inside the body, that let them tell truth from falsehood with considerable accuracy.
“Not the overlord. Who, then? A wizard would just use one of his own spells…”
Kirris tried not to react, not to give the warlock the slightest hint, but she knew she had failed. She saw his eyes widen again.
“A wizard?” he said. “Which one? Ithinia of the Isle?”
Kirris did not answer in words, but she did not need to. Vond could read the truth in her response to the name.
She felt her heart pounding, felt the sheen of sweat on her brow, felt the pain of her broken hand, the pressure on her back where she was shoved against and into the wall.
She felt her heart stop, and a sudden jolt of pain flash through her chest.
And then she felt nothing at all, ever again.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Zallin was leaning heavily on Hanner’s shoulder, but he was on his feet, not being dragged, as they emerged from the dim dining room into the brightly-lit entry hall. Hanner was focused on keeping his drunken companion moving, and if Zallin had not said, “Who’s that?” Hanner might not have even noticed the woman standing by the front door, waiting for them.