Chapter 086: Calm Run Of The Rumour Mill
"I
feel the sense of possibilities
I
feel the wrench of hard realities
The
focus is sharp in the city"
The
Camera Eye - Rush
Usually
I don't suffer very often from the after-effects of an over-enthusiastic alcohol
consumption, so I have but little experiences to serve as a comparison, but the
dull headache that had been plagueing me since I had tried to do a quick Pattern
scan might well be reffered to as a Power hangover. Ironically, a drop of drink
helped a little, but my attempts to Trump Random only served to intensify the
hurt, and when contact finally was established, the feedback instantly made him
wince and recoil.
"Hell,
Dorian!" he growled. "What in Unicorn's name are you doing?"
"Trying
to call you," I snapped in reply. "It takes some effort from where I
am now. I'll keep it short. I'm in Quendor, and things are quite amiss."
"Do
you want me to inform Bleys or Fiona?"
"Not
for the moment, no. I've already mentioned some of this to them."
"Alright.
Anything in specific I need to know about in case something happens?"
"Well,
the influence of the corrupted Nexus is very strong here. That's what's giving
us both headaches."
"That
would qualify as news, yes. Take care." I made a slightly dismissive
gesture, indicating that I would be able to look after myself, but still I was
glad when I was able to break off the contact. He'd wanted me to keep in touch,
but I wasn't quite sure I would be able to keep this up. Not if this kind of
hurt would be the regular payment required.
The
extra jolt of pain from the Trump contact quickly receded, however, as if the
burst of Power that had been involved had been too short to do any serious harm.
Taking a deep breath, I poured myself another shot of anaesthetic, then started
recalling some of the meditative exercises Fiona had taught me to deal with
various forms of mental fatigue. Between the two of them, they and the alcohol
did much to relieve my pain, and some time later I caught myself beginning to
doze off, so I went back to bed. There were no other dreams or visitors of any
significance that night, but I awoke early and kept feeling a bit drowsy
throughout the day. More or less subconsciously, therefore, I decided to take
things easy.
Instead
of enjoying a breakfast up in my room or down in the hotel's restaurant,
excellent though it would have been, I chose to head down into the city and try
and find some kind of diner. Since the use of my Pattern abilities had been
effectively restricted, I needed some other way of digging up information, and I
guessed some direct contact with the locals would suffice to gather more general
first impressions. I might at least discover the official version of the course
of events that had preceded the current situation.
Said
current situation apparently involved a great number of policemen dressed in the
red and black uniforms of the Thaumacorps patrolling the streets. They were
mainly moving about in little groups of three or four, and as I ambled along,
looking for breakfast, I witnessed one such group going into a bookshop to
reemerge but a few moments later, leading out an old man who appeared to be
quite confused. His loud protests about this being a misunderstanding and him
not having badmouthed the Thaumos in any way were pointedly ignored by the cops,
who firmly escorted him towards their waiting vehicle. None of the passers-by
paid any attention to this little scene, or rather they were studiously looking
the other way. Fear seemed to be hanging in the air like a thick and cloying
yellow cloud.
Over
breakfast I took my time to spell out a cross-section of the local newspapers.
Although the papers varried in their depth and content, there appeared to be a
general consensus that things in Quendor had never looked brighter: the economy
was booming, the crime rate was falling (mainly because of the increasing number
of recent arrests), and the Thaumos was really the Saviour of the Nation.
Naturally, there was also a general call to rally behind Quendor's new leader,
especially in the light of possible threats from outside, and any spies or
infiltrators needed to be disposed of with extreme prejudice. I noticed,
however, that the outside threats to Quendor had been left rather vague, and the
newspaper comments might be inferred to allude to either Amber, Sherwyn,
Galoria, the Courts, or any other non-native force for that matter. Reading
between the lines, I figured that the Thaumos had come to power only a month or
two earlier, and checking the dates with what I could recall I estimated that
about half a year had passed since Miss Fabre and I had broken into the
university.
On
the back page of all these Quendorian papers I was surprised to find a rather
conspicuous advertisement, or rather a wanted poster. Quite substantial rewards
were being offered for any information that would lead to the discovery and
capture of five individuals whose pictures were printed below. One of these was
Miss Fabre's.
At
seeing her picture I couldn't help but glance around guiltily, almost expecting
the Thaumacops to storm in and arrest me too, but of course no one was paying me
any attention. Returning my gaze to the ad, I noticed that the rewards varied
quite a bit, although they were all pretty high; the highest, for instance,
would easily have paid for a nice villa in one of the better
The
question was: why? Why were these people so important that the Thaumos wanted
them out of the way? It occurred to me that perhaps it was because of their
possible connections with outsiders, since the papers seemed to warning the
populace against that sort of thing, and Miss Fabre had had dealings with both
me and Brand. Then again, this sort of information might not be common
knowledge. Lothair would know, though, and I still had a strong feeling that
either he or his associates had had a hand in all the recent changes. The only
other thing I could think of that would make Miss Fabre stand out of a crowd
were her magic abilities, but surely there would be more than five magicians
left in Quendor?
Still,
this magic angle was something to go on at least. After I finished my breakfast,
I took a stroll towards the old magic district with its peculiar eclectic mix of
modern high-rise offices and rather ancient architecture. This was also the area
where Miss Fabre's office and apartment were located, but I decided not to go
there immediately, knowing that someone would probably be waiting for me there.
Instead I just walked around, really looking out for any impressions of life out of the
ordinary. Last time I had only noticed the posters, but that had only been a
short visit. This time it struck me how quiet the streets in this district were,
especially compared to what they had been like before. A great number of shops
and offices had been closed, and there were some traces of violence, like
windows having been thrown in. There were also far less people out on the
street, except for the number of Thaumacorps patrols, which seemed to be
significantly higher than elsewhere in the city. The few ordinary passers-by
wouldn't meet my gaze and hurried on quickly as if any contact with strangers
might be suspicious. They seemed quite oblivious to the friendly warmth of the
early summer sun, which could do but little to dispell the oppressive mood.
A
few stores were still open for business, and on a whim I entered one, a
greengrocer's. As the shopkeeper, a middle-aged lady gathered the apples I had
ordered, I took a good look around in the store. I could have sworn this shop
had mainly been selling magical herbs last time I had come this way, but there
was not a trace of any such arcane merchandise to be seen. Some of the shelves
looked rather empty, though. Pretending to be a travelling business man from
another province, I tried to engage the shopkeeper in a conversation, but she
was quite unwilling to venture anywhere beyond ordinary small talk. I did learn,
however, that the Thaumos had decreed magic to be detrimental to the greater
good of Quendor, which seemed a bit strange since I would expect the Thaumacorps
to live up to their name and mainly consist of
magic users. The woman also mentioned that this was why such large
rewards had been offered for any information leading to the arrest of the five
remaining members of the Magic Council. At hearing this, I couldn't help but
feel a bit slighted by Miss Fabre for her never having let on she moved in the
highest circles of the local magical hierarchy, but it didn't come as a complete
surprise. After all, she had been Brand's pupil. And as for her never having
mentioned it, I hadn't bothered to ask either.
My
chat with the shopkeeper didn't seem to be yielding any other useful
information, since we were both too wary to venture beyond the usual meaningless
pleasantries. As I was just about to leave, however, she noticed me stifling a
yawn. I tried to smile and shrug apologetically, saying that I had had a bad
night, but she regarded me quite keenly and then quickly produced a small, quite
fragrantly smelling pouch. This would help me sleep soundly, she said, but she
was quick to add that it wasn't magical in any way, just herbs. She wouldn't
dream of ever doing anything illegal! I thanked her kindly and slid the pouch
into a pocket. Who knows, it might even do the trick.
I
had only walked a little further down the street, munching one of my apples,
when another of those ubiquitous Thaumacorps patrols emerged from around a
corner somewhere ahead of me. This one was different, however, for leading the
four man patrol was a man wearing a black trenchcoat and matching black hat. He
appeared to be talking into a radio, and he was too far away from me to make out
whether he was the same one who had been following me before or his colleague
who had been waiting at Miss Fabre's apartment or someone else altogether. As he
caught sight of me ambling innocently in his direction, however, he stopped and
started talking into his hand-held radio with a greater degree of urgency.
Within the blink of an eye I decided to try and bluff my way out of this. At
this point, running would only have made me look more suspicious, and even if
they tried to arrest me I was confident enough that I would be able to get away.
And it presented an opportunity to gather some more information.
The
four Thaumacops had halted just behind the man in the black coat, but after a
few more moments he finished his conversation over the radio, put the thing away
in his belt, and ordered one of the men on to confront me and ask for my papers
while he and the others watched from a distance. I played the role of a polite
and eager to please non-local businessman, who reacts quite surprised when he's
told his papers aren't in order. That last part wasn't too difficult, though. It
seemed that a month ago all citizens had had to apply for a new pass, one that
included a statement of not being nor ever having been able to use any kind of
magical abilities. I played dumb and managed to convince the guard that I had
been travelling around so long that I hadn't had any chance yet of getting a new
i.d., and he informed me a bit gruffly that although I would ordinarily have to
go back to my native town to remedy the situation, the people at the city hall
would see to the matter for only a small fee. I was even pointed in the right
direction, and after kindly thanking the man I started off in the direction he
had indicated, a good model citizen doing just what the authorities had ordered.
Once I was out of sight from the patrol, however, I very carefully started
concentrating on the Pattern in order to shift my papers up to date.
Fortunately, I found that the level of pain involved in such a minor shift was
bearable and that the subsequent headache didn't linger for very long
afterwards. I wouldn't have wanted to go through all the trouble of really
getting my i.d. updated, since it might have drawn much more unwanted attention.
It
was now fairly clear that the Thaumos did indeed not look kindly upon the
practitioners of the arcane arts. Which was strange, for although the man in the
hat and coat had not been that close, I had sensed a spark of power from him,
making him stand out from the common crowd. The feeling had not been so strong
as to indicate an initiate of a Major Power, though, which led me to conclude
that he must be a local magician. So, suppressing all magic on the one hand,
whilst keeping the remaining wizards in your own employ on the other; it all
spelled out a fairly effective way of running a dictatorship. No wonder Miss
Fabre had gone underground. At least, I assumed she had. One thing was certain:
I wouldn't be likely to find her here in the magic district.
Slowly,
I wandered out of these dreary streets of fear to more friendlier climes, ending
up in a section of town with lots of little cafés and restaurants, which
appeared to be regularly frequented by all kinds of artists and entertainers.
Some of the latter were even out on the streets already, despite the early hour,
and their songs helped to bring about a pleasant and altogether more cheerful
mood. However, I got the impression that their fair trade was at least partly
due to the people craving for any and all forms of distraction. Anything to get
their minds off politics and similar awkward topics.
A
sudden glint of sunshine reflecting off of some tall structure made me turn and
stare. I couldn't get a good look at it right away, but it seemed some sort of
tower had been constructed just outside of town while I had been away. Curious
as I was, I worked my way up through the streets till I found a spot that would
give me a better view. It indeed appeared to be a tower, or rather a very tall
spire made of some peculiar pink crystalline substance. Looking at it gave me a
rather eerie feeling, and I realised that the location where this spire had been
erected might well lie on the grounds of the Lablanche estate.
Nearby,
a young man was trying to earn a living by singing local folk songs and
accompanying himself on something that looked and sounded very much like a
guitar. There was something about his voice that I found quite pleasing, and
after he had finished his song I approached him with the thought of possibly
obtaining some information from him. As soon as I mentioned the crystal spire he
became quite wary, however. He quickly looked around to see whether anyone else
had heard, and when this did not seem to be the case, he muttered to me that it
wasn't wise to discuss such things in public. I didn't have to press him too
much to learn that the Thaumos himself was presumed to know more about the
structure than anyone else in Quendor. It was strictly off limits, and several
people who had gone to investigate had disappeared without a trace.
The
young street musician wasn't at all taken with the Thaumos, I sensed, and he was
far more talkative than might have been good for him if I had not been the one
he had been talking to. He was rather well informed, too. He told me, for
instance, that Lucius, the Thaumos, had been a former member of the magic
council as well, and that he had somehow got rid of all the other members to
become this new dictator. Apparently, two of the prospective council members
were still working for him today, and when I gave him a quick description of the
man in the trenchcoat who had been following me and the one who had opened the
door at Miss Fabre's apartment, my suspicions were indeed confirmed. Their names
were Glen Terr and Theira LaRue.
Meanwhile,
the musician, whose name was Simon La Fleur, had at my suggestion taken us to a
café, where we continued our conversation while we had a light lunch. This
place must have been some kind of safe house, for Simon was a lot less reluctant
to talk about the things no one else dared mention, and he didn't seem at all
worried about other customers overhearing him. I got the slight feeling that I
might subconsciously have been affecting Shadow probability, since I really
needed some source of information and here was Simon, full of all the info I
required and strangely willing to confide in me.
According
to Simon the appearance of the crystal spire near to or even inside the
Lablanche estate had been the beginning of all the recent changes. As soon as it
had appeared, the magic council had claimed it as something that ought to be
studied by the experts, meaning them, and very soon after a group of members and
prospective members had gone to investigate the strange new structure. Next
thing people knew the city council had been disbanded, some of its members
having disappeared under mysterious circumstances. The whole police force had
been more or less disbanded too, and the Thaumacorps had been formed to replace
it. There was a general impression that some powerful magic must have been used
to accomplish all this. Simon assured me that there had been some resistance to
the new order, but it had swiftly been dealt with.
The
next thing that happened was the new Thaumos suppressing every form of magic but
his own. Three of the original five members of the magic council had gone
underground, as had the two other prospective members, but a lot of ordinary
magicians had disappeared or had been killed outright, and the fifth council
member, Jean Talion, was rumoured to have been murdered by Lucius himself. His
brand of magic was mainly aimed to affect people's minds, but he seemed a lot
stronger than before. It was said that all the magicians who had gone to
investigate the spire had undergone some kind of transformation, and that this
was perhaps why the Thaumos wouldn't allow anyone else near the thing. Simon was
not an expert himself, but if even half the stories about Lucius were true, they
reminded him an awful lot of feats that were claimed only to have been possible
in Marie Lablanche's days.
As
for any more terchnologically based resistance, it all seemed to be rather
futile. Through his magic Lucius controlled people's minds, both when they were
awake and when they were sleeping. Apparently, he had the power to send a person
specific dreams, driving some people completely crazy with fear. When I heard
this, I told Simon about the dream I'd had, which he recognized as a recurring
feature with quite a lot of people. The way he had heard it, the man in the
dream could order people what to do without them having any way of resisting
him. The renegade magicians were doing everything they could to offer protection
to the common people, and there were even some protective herbal pouches being
passed around that were said to keep the dark man away. I showed him the pouch
the lady at the grocery store had given me, and he smiled and nodded. Just the
thing he had been talking about.
As
I told him about the way my dream visit had ended, Simon frowned, though, and
said he had never heard of this happening before. Perhaps, he ventured, there
might be some people with a latent gift of magic who might be able to repel the
dream man in such a way, but such people were best not mentioned out loud, even
in this establishment. Simon himself was quite afraid of the dream man, but
fortunately he was not a magician, nor was he very important, and it seemed as
if only important people got the kind of dream I had described. Important people
and simple businessmen from out of town, I added, and he smiled. I could tell he
wasn't fooled in the least bit by my cover, but he wouldn't press me or give me
away. He had been telling me far too much himself to be an informer for the
Thaumos.