Catalyst(63)

I peered around a corner at the entrance to the last tower. I let out a breath. There were no guards at all.

I moved silently to the wooden door. On one side was a sconce with one candleholder and one unlit candle. The matching sconce on the other side hung sideways, as if it had broken and no one wanted to repair it.

This had to be it. Premier might have acquired power in Alexandria, but most of the people still wanted to avoid his dark aura. And if he really was a wizard, he wanted to avoid them even more.

With my magic by my side, I lifted my shaky hand and pushed the door open.





CHAPTER 15



I opened the door and peered through the crack. Barely any light shone through. I imagined Premier standing there, waiting for me, and shivered. I took deep breaths, trying to gather my courage. Someone did it for me. I heard heavy footsteps coming across the stone courtyard. Quickly, I slipped through the door and closed it. I leaned against it, hearing the footsteps approach, pause, then fade away.

I didn't move until I was certain he was gone, and I could no longer hear my heart pounding. Then I was able to focus on my surroundings. I was in a large, circular stone room that took up the whole base of the tower. There were no torches on the walls, but the morning’s dim light shone faintly through the arrow slits on the far side of the room. About halfway across were two staircases—one leading up, the other down. I felt faint magic tugging at me from the lower level.

As I descended the stairs, following the trail of power, I knew something was wrong. There wasn't any feeling of life in the tower. In the other parts of the castle, there were always faint noises—people snoring or making love, servants getting ready for the day’s work or running to do their master’s bidding. And always, like a faint hum underneath everything, the life mana of so many people. This tower had a dead, oppressive feel to it—like the feeling I’d gotten when I tried to probe Premier. Awareness with no life force behind it, just malevolence. The tower's eyes were on me, and they weren't friendly. I rubbed the goose bumps on my arms and kept my magic at the ready. I didn't draw on it, in case Premier could sense it.

The lower I went, the hotter it felt. The humidity and dampness crushed me, reminding me of being enveloped in Cynder’s breath. I wanted to rip off my wizard’s robe.

I reached a landing on the staircase—and the magic that had drawn me. I sucked in my breath when I saw a light gray web shimmering at the top of the next set of stairs—a simple detection web. This was the evidence I was looking for. Premier was a wizard. But what was I going to do about it? I couldn't accuse him publicly. The princess would believe me, but we couldn’t prove it to anyone else. No one else could see the web. I needed more evidence, and the only way I was going to get that was by venturing deeper.

The web was like the first one I had passed through when I met Master Stradus. This time, I was equipped with the knowledge of how to dissipate it.

I rolled up my sleeves and began to unmake the web with my fingers. Little wisps of magic danced on my fingertips. I moved the opposite way the web was formed. It was easy to follow, because all webs left little traces of how they were made. The simpler the web, the easier it was to see. The gray web lost all its color, then collapsed to the ground and faded away. I made my way down the stairs. Torchlight flickered up from the bottom, and I moved carefully, not wanting to alert anyone below. When I got there, I was in a small open space, faced by a wooden door.

I exhaled all the breath from my body. There was a web in front of this one too. It was much more complex than the first, stronger and interwoven with more strands. It shone bright crimson. I paused for a moment to figure out how to bypass it. I could see that it was set to cause excruciating pain to anyone who passed through it. Interestingly, it was specifically designed to affect only humans, with the exception of its maker. Other life forms, like animals, could pass through unharmed. And so could creatures.

As I studied the web, I realized it was slightly out of alignment, as if something had passed through it. As I watched, it settled back into its proper place, which meant that whatever had passed through had done so recently. And since it wasn’t lying on the other side of the door screaming in agony, it wasn’t human. I didn’t know what it was, but I had no choice but to press on. It was too late to turn back now.

Since the web was designed to cause pain, a counterbalance must be used. Life was that counterbalance. Normally, I could use the life force of a nearby plant, but there were none down here. There was an alternate way to get rid of the web, but it was much more dangerous to me. No mistakes must be made.