Sebastian Page 7

  His legs burned by the time he climbed the last stair. His heart burned, too, but not from exertion.

  A cobblestone path cut between the stone walls that protected the houses of the wealthy who now shared the plateau with the wizards, leading to the street. Directly across the street was the Petitioners’ Hall—the only entrance common folk had to the part of the hill the wizards considered their exclusive domain.

  As he crossed the street, he glanced at the structure that dominated the right-hand side of the wizards’ estate.

  The Tower was the oldest structure in the city, and even now, centuries after it had been built, wizards still walked sentry duty, still kept watch.

  For what? What had they once feared that they had built on the highest piece of land in this landscape? What did they still fear that they continued to keep watch?

  He shook his head and banished those thoughts. Wizards claimed they feared nothing. He knew that wasn’t true—at least, not for the last fifteen years. Which was the only reason he risked entering this city.

  The Petitioners’ Hall was connected to the wall surrounding the wizards’ private domain, separated from the buildings that made up the Wizards’ Hall by the expansive courtyard and garden he’d wandered through so many years ago. It still looked open and friendly with all its trees and greenery—if you didn’t consider the fact that only one gate next to the Petitioners’ Hall provided a way back into the rest of the city.

  He opened the door of the Petitioners’ Hall and stepped into a long room. Stone floor, stone walls, and unadorned wooden benches that were, no doubt, uncomfortable if anyone had to sit on one for very long. The room was lit by oil lamps suspended from the ceiling, which had to burn all the time, since there were no windows to let in light. The place felt cold and hard as the stone it was built from.

  He left the door open, more to give himself a way to escape than to indicate discourtesy, and strode to the desk at the back of the room.

  Here there was some luxury. The big wooden desk gleamed in the lamplight. Beneath it was a pool of thick carpet that would keep the cold damp of stone from seeping into the feet of whoever was on duty.

  Tonight it was a surly young man who closed the book he’d been reading and folded his hands over it. The badge he wore on his robe declared him a second-level wizard to anyone who knew what the symbols stood for.

  “I need to see Wizard Koltak,” Sebastian said.

  “It’s late,” the young wizard snapped. “Wizard Koltak isn’t on duty this evening to see petitioners. Take a seat and I’ll see who—”

  “Nevertheless, Koltak will see me.”

  The wizard looked outraged. “And who are you?”

  “Sebastian. From the Den of Iniquity.”

  The surly look gave way to fascinated revulsion. So. This one had heard the stories that had been whispered in the student quarters—and perhaps still were. A lesson for the lusty and foolish.

  The wizard grabbed a small piece of parchment from the stack on the corner of his desk. Snatching up the quill and dipping it into the inkwell, he didn’t notice that he dribbled ink on the desk’s gleaming wood. Hurried scribbles. The ink barely had time to dry before the wizard folded the parchment and shouted, “Boy!”

  A boy dozing on a bench close to the desk scrambled to answer the summons. The folded parchment was handed off, and the boy dashed out the door in the back of the room.

  Your pen dribbles. A simple phrase that held a wealth of meanings when an incubus said it. It was tempting to see if this young wizard would find the call of an incubus more alluring than that of a succubus, but he already had enough enemies among the wizards.

  So he just gave the wizard a lazy smile that suggested traveling to reach this place wasn’t the reason he looked disheveled.

  A few minutes later, the boy dashed back into the room, breathless, and handed a folded piece of parchment to the wizard. The man looked startled as he read the command, but he said, “The boy will lead you.”

  Giving the wizard an insolent salute, Sebastian followed the boy out the back door and across the courtyard. Instead of going through the door of the main building, the boy turned to the right and led him to another door.

  The hair on the back of Sebastian’s neck rose as he noticed that the windows on either side of the door had a queer sparkle in places where the light from the courtyard lamps touched the glass. Wooden shutters were folded back on the outside of the windows.

  The boy pushed the door open and entered the dark space.

  Sebastian heard the clink of glass against metal, then the scrape of a match. Staying in the doorway, he watched the boy light the candle and replace the globe over the metal candleholder.

  When the boy turned to leave, Sebastian stepped into the room to let him pass. But when the boy reached for the handle to pull the door closed, some instinct made Sebastian grab the wood and growl, “Leave it open.”

  The boy bolted into the night.

  Not sure why he’d responded that way, Sebastian looked at the door—and felt a shiver run down his spine.

  No handle on this side. No way for a person inside this room to open the door.

  Slipping his pack from his shoulder, he set it against the door and went over to one of the windows, alert for any sound in the courtyard.

  Thick glass that extended into the stone. A mesh of wire embedded in the glass. Even if someone managed to break the glass, he still wouldn’t be able to escape through a window.

  Turning, Sebastian studied the room. A table, two chairs, and the globed candleholder. No other visible means of exiting the room, although there probably was a hidden door or other kind of opening.

  What it all meant was that once the door was closed, the only way a person could leave this room was if someone on the outside opened the door.

  His hands trembled as he went back to the door and picked up his pack. After settling it over his shoulder, he shifted so his back wasn’t completely exposed to the courtyard. At least he’d have some warning if someone tried to rush him and shove him into the room.

  A scrape of boot on stone. Sebastian scanned the courtyard. The place looked so open, but the lamplight played with the surroundings in such a way that there were patches of deep shadow that could hide anything.

  “Why are you here?” a harsh voice said behind him.

  Sebastian whipped his head around to look into the room and felt a muscle in his neck twinge in protest. He swore silently as he realized he’d been caught by a sleight of hand. There was no one in the courtyard, but that magical distraction had allowed Koltak to slip into the room without revealing the location of the hidden door.

  “Did you hear that I was finally being considered for a seat on the Wizards’ Council and decided to remind everyone of why I’ve been passed over all these years?” Koltak kept his voice low, but that didn’t diminish the venomous tone.

  I don’t give a damn about you or your ambitions. “I came here to report an incident to the Justice Makers,” Sebastian said, keeping his voice just as low. “I asked for you because I thought you would prefer it rather than have me talk to another wizard.”

  “The Justice Makers have no interest in the Den of Iniquity or what goes on there,” Koltak said.

  “Even when a human is murdered?”

  Koltak hesitated, then made a sharp, angry gesture with his hand. “Come in then. You may think nothing of making your affairs public, but things are done differently here.”

  “I’ll stay where I am.”

  Spots of color blazed on Koltak’s cheeks. “What do you think I’ll do? Lock you in this room and deny you were here?”

  “If you could get away with it, you’d do it in a heartbeat,” Sebastian snapped.

  “As if anyone would care if you disappeared.”

  “One person would.”

  The unspoken name—and the threat—hung between them.

  Belladonna.

  “We think the woman who was killed came from
a wealthy family. She always wore a wide gold bracelet.”

  “Every wife of a prosperous man wears a gold bracelet,” Koltak growled. “What did she look like?”

  “I don’t know! There wasn’t enough left of her face to describe it!”

  Koltak paled, but Sebastian couldn’t tell if it was because of what he’d said or because he’d raised his voice.

  “Listen to me, Koltak. Something came into the Den that is brutal and vicious. It killed a succubus a few days ago. Now it’s killed a human woman.”

  “Maybe it will wipe the Den clean and stop all you demons from luring decent humans into doing things that will ruin their lives.”

  “It’s not just demons who live in the Den. And I’m half-human, remember?”

  Koltak’s lips pulled back in a rabid snarl. “There’s nothing human about you!”

  Sebastian looked away. Apparently those heart-wounds hadn’t scarred over enough after all. Then he forced himself to look Koltak in the eyes. “You’re right. How could there be anything human in me with a succubus for a mother and you for a father?”

  “Get out!”

  He took one step back, which left him standing on the threshold. “There’s something out there, Koltak. The Den may not be its only hunting ground. I did what I was supposed to do. I reported this to the Justice Makers. If you do nothing because I was the one who came here, then the blood of the next person who dies will be on your hands, not mine.”

  He stepped out of the room, unwilling to turn his back on the man whose seed had helped create him—the man who hated him for existing.

  When the door swung shut, hiding him from Koltak’s view, he pivoted and moved across the courtyard as fast as he could without running. He had to get off this hill, get out of this city. Wizards ruled here, commanded the guards. He could be detained, locked away.

  It felt like forever before he reached the wrought-iron gate next to the Petitioners’ Hall. When the gate resisted his efforts to open it, his chest tightened until he struggled to breathe.

  Trapped. Was Koltak watching, exerting his will and wizard’s magic to keep the gate closed until…? Until guards showed up and decided a man who couldn’t get out of the courtyard must be dangerous and should be detained for questioning. Or, worse, Koltak would appear and tell the guards to take him back to that room for questioning. Latch the shutters and close the door—and no one but Koltak would know he was trapped in that room. Oh, the guards would know, but they wouldn’t care what happened to an incubus who had dared enter the city.

  Detain him. Contain him. Kill him.

  He had to get out of here!

  Travel lightly, travel lightly, travel lightly.

  Sebastian took a step back from the gate and closed his eyes.

  A simple gate designed to open only from inside of the courtyard. A simple latch that might be a bit rusty. That was all. A simple gate that would open easily at his touch. Then he would leave this courtyard, leave this city…and go home.

  Sebastian opened his eyes and reached for the gate. A gentle tug. A click as the lock slid back.

  The gate swung open.

  His heart pounded, but he walked through the gate and headed for the Thousand Stairs, keeping his pace easy, as if he were strolling the main street of the Den.

  As he reached the stone path that led to the stairs, he glanced back—and saw guards hurrying toward the Petitioners’ Hall.

  They have no interest in me, nor I in them, beyond simple curiosity, Sebastian thought. His stride lengthened, despite his efforts to appear unconcerned that the guards might notice him. My business in the city is done. I’m going home to enjoy a meal and a pleasant evening with friends. I’m going home. To the Den.

  No hue and cry sounded behind him, and by the time he reached the stairs, he was trembling with relief. He paused at the edge of the stairs to give himself time to regain his composure—or as much as he could while he was still within the city walls. No point getting away from the Wizards’ Hall if he took a spill down the stairs and ended up with broken bones that would leave him helpless.

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he put his foot on the first stair for the descent that would begin his journey home.

  Koltak watched the guards mill around the courtyard gate. No point slipping a suggestion beneath their surface thoughts a second time. There was no longer anything tangible for them to deal with to confirm the “instinct” or “intuition” that had compelled them to check on the gate beside the Petitioners’ Hall. Even if he gave them another nudge, Sebastian had too much of a lead now and could elude any guards long enough to get out of the city.

  Stepping back into the room, he closed the door, then snuffed out the candle. He walked to the back wall and, with the experience of the years he’d lived within the Wizards’ Hall, touched the concealed latch for the hidden door.

  As soon as the door swung open, Koltak slipped out of the room, then paused long enough to make sure the door was securely locked before hurrying along the corridors that were used mostly by the servants.

  He gave silent thanks to whatever Guide was watching over him that he made it back to his suite of rooms without running into anyone who might wonder why he’d been coming back from the direction of the Petitioners’ Hall—and the detention rooms.

  Not that the other wizards would wonder for long. By morning, they’d all know who had asked to see him. It would have been different if he could have contained the problem, but…

  Koltak stared out his sitting room window. It didn’t face the right direction, but he stared anyway, as if that alone would somehow locate Sebastian before he got out of the city. Again.

  For thirty years he’d been punished for that indiscretion, that weak hungering for the kind of sexual gratification that made human women little better than a container for a man’s seed. Plenty of wizards had indulged themselves with succubi. Plenty. But their liaisons hadn’t threatened to topple the power structure that gave wizards a place in the world, that made them the Justice Makers.

  How could there be anything human in me with a succubus for a mother and you for a father?

  Just words flung out in anger. Sebastian didn’t know the truth. Couldn’t know what his existence meant.

  Secrets tightly held within the Wizards’ Hall were flaunted daily because that whelp had been born. Oh, most of the citizens wouldn’t realize what it meant that a mating between a wizard and a succubus had borne fruit, but the wizards knew it branded them for what they were.

  Something not quite human. Beings whose ability to influence minds sprang from the same roots as the seductive power the incubi and succubi unfurled to attract their prey.

  We’ve paid for our secrets. We pay every day by keeping order, by standing for justice. We’ve paid.

  But tonight, the thing he’d personally feared the most had finally displayed itself.

  Sebastian was not only an incubus; he also had some measure of the wizards’ kind of power. He couldn’t have opened that gate otherwise, couldn’t have shrugged aside Koltak’s mental persuasion so quickly that there wasn’t time for the guards to arrive.

  If the other wizards realized Sebastian controlled the same magic as the Justice Makers, everything he, Koltak, had done for the past thirty years to make up for his lustful mistake and prove himself worthy of the kind of authority he’d always craved would have been for nothing. So there really was only one thing to do.

  Somehow, some way, Sebastian had to be eliminated once and for all.

  Sebastian was a stone’s throw beyond the city’s southern gate when he heard the bell ring twelve times. Midnight. The city gates were locked at midnight, and no one could enter or leave until the following dawn.

  A shiver of relief went through him. Turning east, he struck off across the open land. Not that it would make any difference if Koltak ordered guards to come after him on horseback or on foot, but being off the road made him feel like he had a better chance of getting aw
ay from this landscape before his father—he let out a quiet, bitter laugh—found a way to force him to remain.

  Besides, if he went back along the road, there wasn’t a closer bridge than the one he’d crossed to get to this boil on the world’s backside. Out here, there were bound to be other bridges. They might not take him back to the Den, but they would get him away from here, and that was the most important thing right now. Except…

  If he was delayed in getting back home, who else might die in the time he was away?

  He had to get back to the Den!

  He’d put a fair distance between himself and the city when a veil of clouds covered the moon. He froze, unwilling to shift his feet. The land suddenly felt soft and strange, as if it were strewn with hidden traps. Which was foolish. He’d spent the past fifteen years in a landscape that never saw the sun rise. He was used to traveling at night.

  But that was different. He knew the dangers that lived in and around the dark landscape he called home. Out here…There was something wrong out here.

  A chill went through him. His skin felt clammy, as if he’d brushed against something that had smeared some kind of illness inside him.

  Trying to shake off the sensation, he listened for any movement or sound that would confirm the wrongness. All he heard was the burble of water. He forced himself to move, and, following the sound, he found the creek. It was narrow enough that a man could scramble down the bank and jump across the water, but there were two rough planks stretched from one bank to the other. Since the planks didn’t look sturdy enough or wide enough to support the smallest cart, there was only one reason for them to be there.

  A Bridge had put those planks across the creek, using that particular magic to create a link between landscapes.

  Sebastian studied the planks. Had to be a resonating bridge. Those were the ones that tended to be in places that were found more by chance than design. Which meant he could end up anywhere the moment he stepped off the other side of the bridge.

  Just cross over, Sebastian thought as he hooked both arms through the straps of his pack and settled it comfortably on his back. You can’t end up in any place that doesn’t live in your heart. Isn’t that what every child is taught? That a person is where he deserves to be? Isn’t that what Koltak always said when he dragged you back to that thrice-cursed city? But Nadia always said life was a journey, and the landscapes reflected the journey. That even when bad things happened, the journey eventually would lead a person where his heart needed to be.