in surprise and fear. Samuel sensed an exit from the room and darted between wailing children. He met a set of stairs, lit in hues of grey, and he took them in leaping bounds. Behind, the mages followed on foot amongst the cries of the children.
Samuel burst out onto the roof of the building. Stars shone faintly between the rows of washing that was strung out atop the roof. Something struck him unexpectedly, like a blow from a hammer, between the shoulder blades and he staggered, turning as best he could. At the base of the stairs, a magician was glaring up at him. He looked perhaps a few years older than Samuel and he seemed familiar. Perhaps he had been one of the Adept who had graduated when Samuel first arrived at the school. Whoever he was, his spells were certainly powerful enough to overcome Samuel in his present state. The man threw his arms out and Samuel dived aside, feeling a second knot of magic blister past.
Samuel made for the building’s edge and took a great leap. The next rooftop was further than it appeared and he had to quickly enhance his leap with a spell of Moving, gaining an extra few measures of distance. He landed lightly and then turned to the sound of footsteps as the magician followed his example, leaping from the building’s edge with the aid of a spell. Samuel raised his unharmed hand-letting his other arm drop to his side like nothing more than a tube of meat-and cast a spell, cancelling the man’s Lifting spell as it formed. The magician’s face went white with terror as he disappeared down between the buildings. His yell stopped abruptly as he hit the street below.
The other two magicians appeared at the roof’s edge, pointing to Samuel and they came together across the gap. As Samuel ran, he was pelted with spells that pulled and tested his defences. He staggered as a wave of force struck him in the back. It was difficult to concentrate; the pain of his ruined arm continually surfaced and made his head swim.
Thankfully, the next building was nearer and lower, and Samuel threw himself across the alley below. His ankle floundered as he landed and twisted, sending him sprawling onto his face. He crawled back to his feet as one magician sailed clear over him with a magical leap and landed lightly on his far side. The other mage took a smaller jump, in order to land on the alley side of Samuel and block his retreat, but Samuel had anticipated this. He leapt up with all his resolve and met the man at the roof’s edge, butting into him with his shoulder just as the fellow landed. The last of Samuel’s strength went into the blow and it threw him onto his back, knocking the wind from his lungs, but the desired effect was achieved. The magician screamed as he toppled backwards and careened down into the dark alley.
The stars were beautiful tonight. They reminded Samuel of all the times he had lain in the fields and glades with Leila, looking up and watching the tiny bright dots above, like motes of dust on a millpond. Occasionally, a shooting star would burn across the sky and they would both laugh and hug each other closer, making wishes. He wished he was still there, lying in that field or by the stream with Leila in his arms. Her body had been so soft and warm and wonderful and her smile was beyond any description that he could attempt with words. All he could feel now was the cold of night and the hard rooftop underneath him.
The stars blurred before his watering eyes and a dark shape loomed over him. It bore a smile of satisfaction and Samuel had to clear his confused mind to remember where he was.
‘What trouble you have been, traitor,’ the man said with a northern accent. He could have been from the same town as Eric. ‘How happy the Archmage will be when he sees your severed head.’
Samuel swallowed. The pain was numbing him now. His lips felt like someone else’s-fat and swollen. He looked into the northerner’s face. The man’s aura swirled and churned around him, almost like a tiny sky full of stars itself. They shimmered and spun; then, like a wave retreating from the beach to rejoin the sea, the magician’s aura waned and shuddered as he gathered his strength to deliver a final blow. To most magicians, such a thing was impossible to see, but Samuel could watch the very power vanish from the man’s defences as he summoned it into his palms. In that instant, the magician had unwittingly sealed his own defeat.
‘I’m sorry,’ Samuel whispered and he raised his trembling hand just enough. It almost looked as if he was reaching for help.
An instant of realisation replaced the northerner’s confident grin as a ball of burning bright light flashed up into his face. He howled with pain and stumbled back, clutching at his smoking, hissing face. His screaming continued as he tripped over the roof’s edge and into the street below, where it abruptly stopped with a shrill gasp.
The sounds of people roused from their houses came from all around and women began to scream. Samuel could only lie and stare at the blurry stars as the blowing of whistles and cries for the city guards echoed down the streets. The magician would have thought nothing of Samuel’s spell at any other moment, but so timed, it had found him defenceless. Thoughts came into Samuel’s head-
‘Come, Samuel,’ a voice then said beside him and Samuel rolled his head over to see who was there. Even that was a trembling effort.
‘Lomar,’ Samuel could only whisper, his voice thin.
The tall magician was busily doing something beside him and he could hear the tearing and tying of cloth. Some time seemed to have passed, but Samuel could not tell if it was moments or hours. His body hurt all over and his head still rang from striking the roof. There was no feeling in his arm at all, but he could tell that Lomar was doing something to him, tying something around his side. Lomar sat Samuel up and put his own cloak around him, throwing Samuel’s bloodied robes aside. Samuel was then lifted to his feet and together they limped to the roof’s far side, away from the commotion. Somehow, Samuel managed to get his legs in some form of working order, but they felt like two drunkards beneath him, brawling against each other. Reaching a distant edge, Lomar then lowered Samuel onto a lower store roof and Samuel winced as his swollen foot took his weight. The other arm still dripped blood, leaving a trail of dark blots.
Lomar dropped beside him nimbly; then Samuel was again lowered onto the top of a large barrel, where he managed to control his fall onto the alleyway. Again, Lomar appeared beside him and helped him up, and they made their way along the street, arms around each other.
‘I killed them,’ Samuel said, feeling strange and distant. Lomar had done something to him to numb the pain.
‘Don’t worry Samuel. You had no choice,’ Lomar replied. ‘I’m sorry I took so long to find you. Master Glim and I had some escaping of our own to do. He managed to slip away unseen, but I’m afraid I had quite a lot of trouble convincing the palace guards to leave me be. I had to be rather forceful in the end.’
‘That doesn’t sound like you,’ Samuel said, attempting to smile, but the pain cut through him like a knife, making him wince. Lomar nodded. ‘We saved as many books as we could,’ Samuel then added.
‘I know,’ Lomar said back.
‘But many were lost.’
‘It doesn’t matter. To get what we did was a small miracle.’
Surprisingly, Lomar had heard him and whispered back, ‘Oh, I think there are, my friend.’ Then he smiled, a barely discernible smile that just touched the edges of his lips and it made Samuel wonder what it was that his friend was thinking.
They continued on through the narrow back alleys towards the safehouse, thankful not to come across anyone. Shouts echoed from the streets and houses far away, but the two men were only shadows slipping through the darkness.
CHAPTER TEN
