A Clash of Magics by Guy Antibes (read this if txt) 📕

“Collet,” Trevor said. “I have been charged by the head seer to coordinate the offense against the Maskumite magicians.” He laughed. “The head seer calls me—”

“Dryden’s messenger,” Coosin said. “And he is telling you the truth.”

“Is it this way all along the border?” Trevor asked.

“It is. Unfortunately, we need more soldiers, but Queen Marta has been adamant about reducing the army’s presence on the border,” the major said. “That might change with what is happening in Wistfall.”

“We have been in Jarkan,” Coosin said. “What might change?”

“The queen had a breakdown, and there is talk of a regent. The prime minister has been keeping everyone calm,” the major said.

“Watch the Maskumites,” Trevor said. “They may want to take advantage of any regime change.”

“Don’t worry about that. If anything, our vigilance has increased.”

Lissa woke. Coosin must have put her to sleep with a spell.

“How do you feel?” the seer asked.

“I hurt, but not as much as when that lightning struck me.” Lissa frowned and sniffed. “My charms failed.”

Trevor took her hand. “The white lightning is something new and more powerful than the silver kind.”

The major grunted. “I can’t understand why you weren’t killed.”

“I have exceptional defenses,” Trevor said before turning to Lissa. “Do you feel like helping me talk to the magician?”

“I’ll do it. Don’t let the magician use that spell again.”

Trevor had soldiers bind the magician so he couldn’t move a finger. The major threw a bucket of water in the magician’s face.

“That felt remarkably good,” Boarson said.

Trevor patted the magician’s cheek. “Wakey, wakey,” he said.

The magician’s eyes blinked a bit. “Untie me, or you’ll regret it.”

“You will regret it for a very short time if we do,” Trevor said.

The magician narrowed his eyes. “You should be dead. Where did you get a protection charm for white lightning? No one should have one.”

“I’m asking the questions,” Trevor said, but he clenched his fist. “I put an end to your foolishness using this.” He put his fist inches away from the magician’s face. “How many magicians on the border can throw the white lightning?” Trevor said, starting the interrogation.

It went on for half an hour, but they didn’t learn much more than they had already surmised. Lissa found that the magician lied as often as he told the truth. They found out that the magician attacking Major Boarson was one of a few magicians capable of projecting white lightning on the east side of Maskum. They found that out by letting the man lie during questioning for Lissa to discover the truth. The Maskumites were in a taunting mode, even with a few magicians with the same capabilities.

“Which cabal are you a member of?” Trevor finally asked.

“Cabal?” the magician said, suddenly much warier.

Trevor nodded. “I know about the cabal system at the enclave,” he said.

“I won’t tell you which one,” the Maskumite said.

“Then I will assume a spy cabal rather than a fighting one,” Trevor snorted. “Spies are generally killed out of hand. We let your fellow Maskumite soldiers go, but since it appears you are in a spy cabal…” Trevor looked at the Major.

“What do you do with spies?”

“We boil them in oil and then hang them to make sure they are dead.”

“Boiled in oil?” the magician asked.

“Of course. We want to make sure eyes, tongues, and ears no longer can be used against Sirland.”

“I’m not in a spy cabal.”

“What kind of cabal, then?”

“A fighting cabal, of course,” the magician said.

Trevor nodded. That was an honest answer because Lissa nodded. “How many fighting cabals are there?”

“Seven.”

Trevor put his hand on the magician’s shoulder, making the man flinch. “How many spy cabals?”

“Three main ones, but each one has multiple legs.”

“And a leg is?” Trevor asked.

“A faction within a cabal.” The magician said.

Trevor knew he had broken the man at that point. “Why are the spy cabals working together to subvert the world’s governments?”

“A common goal, of course.”

“And when the goal is met?”

The magician looked at Boarson, Coosin, and Trevor. “Will it matter after Maskum has taken over the world without a major battle?”

Trevor pursed his lips. “What will happen if Jarkan and Sirland begin an invasion of Maskum?”

The magician sneered. “Our magicians will fight for the first time, and we will show you our real teeth. Either way, you and your ways will die.”

“Our ways?” Coosin asked.

“Dryden and Selara worship will be dead. I won’t tell you anything else.” The magician turned away.

“Let him go, but cut off his hands,” Major Boarson said. “You’ve killed enough of my men, and I won’t let you kill anymore.”

The magician struggled in his bonds. “You can’t do that! I will be a cripple.”

“A live cripple,” the major said.

Chapter Twenty

~

T revor and Lissa transported to Henkari’s garrison, where they told the general what they learned about Maskumite magic and what enclaves were all about. They returned to the Sirland garrison before morning and got some sleep before heading to Wistfall with Coosin Escarik.

“I can’t say I approved of Major Boarson’s solution to the magician problem, but I can see his point. Not only does it keep a Maskumite magician out of the conflict, but it might discourage others,” the seer said.

“It might be kinder to execute him,” Lissa said. “He lied more than he told the truth.”

“You have a unique talent. I was interested to see it in action,” Coosin said. “It isn’t a happy talent. If you are successful, you catch people doing their worst.”

“I’ve never thought of it that way, but you are right. It leads me to the truth,” Lissa said.

“And that is an important contribution to the messenger’s activities, I suppose?” Coosin said. “I’m surprised you came back with me.