Keir glared at the magic embedded into the tattoo of his left hand. He was trying to copy the confusing knot onto a piece of paper without any luck. A dozen sheets, with drawings on both sides, were crumpled on the floor. He'd never seen a more complicated pattern in his life. It had at least six different types of magical energy, there was even a little bit of death magic involved. And it wasn't just being shaped and contained by the rune, it helped form it as well.
Normally a rune could be made by anyone with some skill and attention to detail. They just needed the right ingredients and the process to make the rune, than they or someone else could fill it with magical energy. It was something like a potter making a clay pot. But this was different. The rune was shaped by the magic rather than vice versa.
If he tried to break the rune, it would cause the spell to backfire. That would be traumatic enough. But this spell was connected directly to him. Using a tiny spark of magic, he prodded the strand of soul that was tied into the knot.
Pain lanced through his arm and reaching his head, causing him to briefly see stars.
“Are you all right, sir?” Jaris asked.
“No. This damn geas is something I've never seen before. I don't know if I can break it.” He hated admitting defeat, but this spell had been made by a master. The ideas he'd had earlier were absolutely useless, he didn't even know where to start.
“Could you recreate it on someone else? Or better yet, something else.”
“I can't even trace out the threads of magic. I don't know where to start, it's a knot with no beginning or end. Even the ends of the two threads connecting it to the other tattoos are hidden in the rat's nest of thread. And if I cut either of those, the entire thing will explode. Whoever created this had to have taken a lifetime.”
“You were dead for three hundred years. It's likely they took several lifetimes perfecting it.”
“And I barely have a winter to solve it.” Frowning, he sipped the cup of cold tea that sat well out of the way on the side of his desk. “I don't even have the full winter to do it. I have to teach the students, raise more ghosts, plan for the spring and summer campaign, keep my allies happy, and make sure my enemies don't tighten their noose further. And I have to worry about the demons sending more assassins.”
“At least you can be happy they didn't put the full geas on you. From the sounds of it, that would have left you little more than an unthinking weapon.”
“That's one small blessing,” he muttered.
Jaris leaned over the desk, looking closely at the poorly drawn copy of the spell. “Since you can't break it, what if you deflected it?”
“What?”
“Would it be possible to redirect some of the energy? It wouldn't break the geas, but it might make it possible to let you ignore it.”
Looking back at his hand, he studied the tiny piece of his soul. There was no way to slip a thread under the knot. And adding a thread to the tangle wouldn't work, the spell would just ignore it or be destroyed, causing it to explode. But... if he attached a new spell to the strand of soul just under the geas, it could limit the damage. Even if he made it perfectly it would still be hard to disobey a direct order, but it might be possible.
As a last resort to avoid death or complete enslavement, a small chance was better than no chance.
Now he just had to design a completely new type of spell that would attach to his soul, redirect energy from one of the most complicated spells he'd ever seen, and keep his soul from being damaged. Why couldn't his life ever be easy?
“Jaris, you're a genius. If I ever become an emperor again, you'll be my prime minister for life,” he said, smiling up at his friend.
“Thank you, sir. I'll be sure to remind you when that happy day arrives.”
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“Concentrate, boy,” Keir instructed Blau.
The former Lleial warrior turned magical student, didn't react to the insult. Either he'd gotten used to being called boy, or he'd become better at hiding his emotions. Keir didn't care which it was, he was going to turn the young man into a first rate necromancer or break him.
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At the moment Blau was trying to see through the eyes of his ghost. He had the right weave, but as expected, stretching the energy across the tent to the target was proving difficult. Like many new mages, pushing their power out at a distance wasn't easy. There was no physical action like it. The closest description Keir had ever heard was trying to thread a needle with tweezers in a strong wind. The first time was always hardest. Once they succeeded at it, and practised a few dozen more times, it became second nature.
Recalling the advice that had helped him when he had been having trouble as an apprentice, he said, “Imagine your lining your cock up for a beautiful, ready woman, and push it in.”
The energy shattered. Blau turned an amazing shade of scarlet, and all the older students, plus Sister Kaja looked at him in shock. Jaris rubbed his translucent forehead, hiding his face.
“What?” he asked, not sure why they were so surprised.
“Ma'am,” Jaris said, emphasizing the word, “that bit of advice sounds better when it comes from a male. Not a comely young woman.”
Keir felt his cheeks burn, they had to be even redder than the boys. “Right. Another thing I need to get used to. Jaris, take over. I need some air.”
With what little dignity was left to him, he left the tent. The bitterly cold air barely touched him through his magical warmth. The refugee camp might have been abandoned except for a few undead that were delivering piles of wood to the huts and barracks. Pulling sleds loaded down with cut lumber and stacking them up in tall piles beside the paths. The desolation suited his current feelings. He wanted to be alone.
Before the snow had come, he'd been so busy preparing for war, healing, or travelling, he hadn't had time to think about his body. Now without the immediate threat of death, he was realizing he wasn't who he had once been. He'd bled and would do it again soon enough. His friend and servant was quite willing to tell him to his face that he was no longer a proper man. And as he'd just learned no one saw him as he had been, and as he still thought of himself.
What was he supposed to do now?
“Damn you, Von. Couldn't you have found me a better body?” he whispered.
A ghostly rider came flying out of the sky landing soundlessly beside him. Reaching out with his magic, he looked into the ghost's mind. The first few images were pointless, just the ghost flying to him. Then he saw something that made him stagger.
A metal ship flew through the air, moving by a single massive propeller. He had seen balloons before, simple things that his enemies had used to see across a battlefield. This was so different from one of those primitive vehicles, he could barely believe it. Going through the ghosts mind he learned that it was about to set down at the bottom of the pass.
With a thought he altered the ghost, removing the rider, strengthening it, making it solid. Getting into the saddle, he silently ordered it to fly to the pass. Rising into the air, he galloped across the sky. His earlier problems forgotten.
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It only took a few minutes to reach the fortifications. The airship still in the air, slowly lowering itself to the ground. It was eerily silent. It wasn't natural, something that size should make noise. Ropes with long stakes on the end, snaked out of portholes. Controlled by magic they drove themselves through the snow and deep into the ground.
Finally it made some noise. A loud roaring emanated from the machine, and the ropes were pulled taut, pulling the airship down far faster then it had been going. It came to a stop five feet above the ground. A door on the side opened, and a man in a grey uniform put a wooden ladder in place, then stepped aside.
An older man also in a grey uniform, but a slightly fancier one, climbed down. He was followed by a mage in a yellow robe. From the trenches Colonel Moreno, Mage Von and a small honour guard of soldiers who had proper, matching uniforms, which was still a rare thing in the army, went to meet the flying men. He was surprised to see Von there, he'd thought the mage was effectively sidelined. Maybe the new Council mage wasn't as powerful as it seemed.
Keir decided he should be there when they started talking. Directing his ghostly steed to the ground, he timed his landing to match the two sides meeting each other. It had the affect he wanted. All four were surprised to see him.
“Hello,” he said, before Colonel Moreno could say anything. “I hope I didn't startle you. My ghost was late telling me that you were arriving. I'm Mage Keira, and you are?”
The officer nodded in greeting. “Mage Keira, I am Captain Cilus Dobeliet, of The Thorn.” He spoke with an interesting accent, almost slurring his vowels, it made him a little hard to understand. “This is Mage Mette, of the Eldritch Council. We're from the city Cristal Fleche, with orders to seek assistance in relieving the demon siege. I am authorized to negotiate on my leaders behalf, and for your support we are willing to share our technology, including blueprints for The Thorn.”
Smiling, Keir said, “While that is very tempting, I am not the only person who has a say in this. These are Colonel Monero, and Mage Von of the Eldritch Council. If you'll follow us, we'll see General Ajani in his headquarters, then we can learn more about your situation and decide if we are capable of helping you.”
“Yes,” the Colonel said, not quite glaring at Keir, “the General is most interested in learning about your mission. And any final say on our spring plans must go through him.”
As they made their way across the snow, Keir saw the looks the Captain and the mage shared. They recognized the divided leadership. If they were smart they'd use it to their advantage. He just hoped they were good enough to convince the General to lift the siege of Cristel Fleche. Having an entire city to work with, would give him the power base he so desperately needed.