Beltran was given several vials and instructions for when to drink them, after his head wound was cleaned up and stitched. He stood up too quickly, wavered, then steadied himself, gingerly walked to a mirror in the infirmary, and rearranged his hair to cover the obvious damage. Kordas sat in one of infirmary’s chairs, elbows on his knees, palms over his eyes.
There’s a lot to think through, but we had another purpose in going to the Annex, and now it feels more urgent than ever.
The Healers left them in the little room they had been taken to when they first arrived, returning to whatever they had been doing when Star brought them here. Nothing, probably. He very much doubted that they saw much work here in the Palace other than patching up dueling wounds.
Maybe they thought we’d been doing some odd variant on dueling that involved blunt instruments.
Come to think of it, that wouldn’t surprise him.
“We’re going back. Now,” he said curtly, and walked to the nearby Gate, only glancing to see if Beltran and Star followed. He had to give credit to Beltran—even after that ordeal, the Herald was game for whatever Valdemar needed from him.
Kordas asked his companions, as the Portal activated beside him, “You steady?”
Beltran nodded, and straightened his tabard. Star answered, “Broken but not beaten, my Lord,” and they stepped through.
Half a candlemark later, with a brief pause to pull those giant splinters out of Star and discard them, all three stood outside a double-sized, heavy door painted in repeating red stripes. It didn’t have handles or locks, but rather, levers connected to heavy bars that crossed the door-width to socket into brass shackles. Unbidden, Star explained, “Former magical laboratory. Industrial production enhancements, which made what was done within especially valuable, since it impacted Imperial power. Thus, protected from explosions within and intrusions without.”
“Huh.” Kordas examined the precautions. “It must have been a time when spies and saboteurs were considered a fact of life. Looks like over time, as incidents grew fewer, the Empire’s leaders decided that defending against espionage so vigorously was an unneeded expense.” He shook his head. The more he saw of the Capital, the more he realized that the people, the organization, were all just like the City itself. Strong and powerful on the surface, but beneath the surface, cracked and shaking apart. “The City came to be considered impervious since the only spies who had ever attempted espionage against the Empire were all caught! There’s a twist of logic for you—‘since we’ve caught fewer and fewer spies, our enemies must have given up on trying,’” Kordas mused out loud. “And nobody could know whether it’s true or not. Still don’t. How do you find a truth out, when it’s about secrets?” He took a firm grip on one of the levers and nodded to the other side, where his companions stood ready. The trio withdrew the bars and dropped them levers-up into their receivers, and stood before the doorway of the Trap.
Star warned, “You may experience a kind of madness in here. Compulsion. It is unlikely to cause you bodily harm.”
“Bring it on,” proclaimed Beltran.
Kordas gave Beltran a sidelong look, wondering if this was bravado, the concussion, or the pain-drugs talking.
Or just maybe it’s Beltran. Kordas often forgot how young the man was.
Or maybe I’m just old.
Star pulled the doors open and stood aside for them.
They stepped onto an upper deck of a vast cube, filled with huge grids of iron chainlink forming an enclosed central area that hung down to its floor. Immediately, they felt a deadening in the air, as if sound was incapable of traveling far. Kordas looked around with an expression of confusion. As if from horselengths away, he heard Star say, “We are now inside an area impervious to scrying, and transmission of sound is subdued within its effective area, which encompasses the entirety of this chamber.”
Hoists and cranes were fixed to the walls up here, along with a wide array of mage-lights, all tuned to a cool white daylight like a winter day. The walls, despite the cracks and chips missing, were painted in a dull, uniform gray. Over the railings, Kordas saw partitions, cubicles, and the shells of outdated magical apparatuses. He ensured he had a firm grip on the railing and said, “I’m going to examine this area with mage-sight, and it might be a very stupid thing to do. So Star, be ready to catch me if I start to waver. I don’t feel like falling again today.” He squinted his eyes shut hard, which honestly did nothing useful, but it made him feel like he was a real mage with big, big powers. He hoped he looked good doing it.
Slowly, he opened his eyes. The corners of the space definitely had several varieties of shielding, from scrying to sound and—explosion? That made sense. His vision slid around, careful not to let himself get blinded. Some of the lift equipment. Ho, hey, nice, a scaffold elevator. A—what is that? It’s very interesting, the way it feels like it’s drawing me toward it, because it’s so engaging. There’s a curious way it curls inside itself, that I have got to get a closer look at—
“Whoa!” Kordas cried out, throwing himself back. “Whoa! Ho . . . found it. Curiosity trap.”
He blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to shake off a physical effect of the Trap. It left dazzling patterns in the eyes for a while. What else had he seen before the Trap hit him? Some small items, some books . . . people. There are people in there. And they’re all near the Trap. And all—around—us—are—He looked around within his memories—an advantage of his memory-enhancement—and played back in his mind what hadn’t yet registered consciously from what he’d seen by mage-sight. He’d seen—
Vrondi. Little twinkly pairs of eyes of blue, with matching auras. So many kinds of blue, from a light sky blue to twilight. Some had stripes, some had pulsing patterns. He’d had no idea there were so many kinds of them. He’d never have guessed. And gathered around this place, tens of thousands of vrondi curiously “smiled” at the three of them as they entered the room, apparently surprised to sense new people. Until they—there it was. The vrondi had all been looking directly at the Trap when the trio had entered.
After a couple of minutes, he felt ready to move on, and led the others onto the elevator. “When we get further down, I’ll shut off the Curiosity Trap. I think I know how.”
“This one knows how,” Star said. “This one will disable it, using the way we shut it down for the prisoners’ feeding and hygiene intervals. It is the wisest solution, because you both can be drawn in by it, but my kind are immune to it.”
Kordas swallowed. “This must be very difficult for you.”
Star was very quiet. “It is, indeed, difficult. We resent that we are made part of the capture of our own kind, by maintaining the prisoners.”
“I really don’t understand everything that is happening right now, but I’m going to be brave and face it, because I have faith in my Duke, my almost-a-friend. I like you very much, my Lord. I like being at your side while doing good things,” Beltran interjected, and grinned.