The town was disturbingly quiet as I strode through the streets. There were fewer students than I’d expected, even though it was a weekend. Perhaps they were up to something or ... I shrugged. It wasn’t my problem. I wasn’t a teacher. I didn’t have the patience for it. A young woman, barely out of her teens, made eyes at me. I glanced at her, noted her dress - she was clearly from a magical bloodline - and ignored her. My cousins had been raised to marry the strongest magicians they found, practically ordered to seduce them in hopes of breeding even stronger magicians. I might be handsome - if I said so myself, and of course I did - but it wouldn’t matter if I was uglier than a troll’s buttocks. The girls would still be pushed into trying to marry me.
I felt nothing. I’d never really been interested in anyone.
The cafe sat at the edge of the town’s centre, owned and run by a powerful magician. I could feel his wards pulsing through the air, even from a distance. A pair of students hung upside down outside, trying to keep their robes in place as they dangled from invisible strings. They’d probably tried to harass the patrons on a dare, only to discover - too late - that the owner was too strong. I didn’t bother to wonder what would happen to them. The owner could do whatever he wanted, from putting them to work washing dishes to turning them permanently into toads. The Grandmaster wouldn’t care enough to help them.
I stepped through the door, hung my cloak on a hook and walked to the table. My brother - Hasdrubal - sat there, eyes hidden behind a tattered blindfold. He could still use magic to see - his first students had found that out the hard way - but ten years of research hadn’t been able to uncover a way to repair his eyesight. Whatever had happened, it had proven impossible to fix. And that should have been impossible, too.
It was growing harder to tell we were brothers, I reflected, as I took the seat facing him. I was tall, with pale skin, dark eyes and long dark hair that fell down to my shoulders; he was shorter, his eyes hidden, his body hunched as if he were carrying some great weight. I supposed that being a teacher must have taken a toll, particularly with a Grandmaster who didn’t give much of a damn about his kids. I had no illusions about the students. They’d been obnoxious when I’d been a student and they were still obnoxious, even to the teachers. My brother was the most powerful teacher in the school - he was head and shoulders ahead of many others - but that only made the thought of getting the better of him all the more attractive. There wouldn’t be a student who hadn't at least considered trying to sneak into his office. Anyone who tried and succeeded, according to tradition, would be granted a free pass for the year.
Poetic justice, I thought, with a flicker of dark humour. We tried to sneak into their offices when we were students, too.
“Void.” Hasdrubal looked irked. He’d never liked the moniker I’d chosen. “Thank you for coming.”
“Your message was very clear,” I said. “You had someone you wanted me to meet?”
“Someone who wanted to meet you,” Hasdrubal said. He flicked his finger in the air, sending a message. “He has a job for you.”
“Oh, does he?” I made a face. I’d had a feeling it was yet another commission from the White Council. Or, more accurately, a subcommittee of a committee within the council ... a confusing mixture of sorcerers and aristocrats and newly-minted kings who could neatly evade the blame and deny everything if something went spectacularly wrong. “And who might this person be?”
Hasdrubal nodded in the direction of the rear door, a moment before it opened. I smirked inwardly - the door led to stairs, which led to the brothel - and then schooled my face into an expressionless mask as Lord Ashworth stepped into the cafe. I wasn’t too surprised to see him - Lord Ashworth had always been too mealy-mouthed to do anything directly - but lurking there? It was commonly believed he didn’t have any balls. His face twisted as he saw us, lips starting to curve into a sneer before he hastily hid it. He’d never liked my father.
“Lord Ashworth,” Hasdrubal said. His voice was calm, so calm I knew he was irritated. “Please. Join us.”
Lord Ashworth sat, face artfully blank. I had no trouble reading his eyes. He was both confident and afraid, a reflection of his power and his awareness of my far greater power. I had no family - we’d been disowned after my father died - while he had a small army of magicians at his beck and call, but we both knew I could kill him. He was far too close to me for his peace of mind. I might not make it out alive - House Ashworth would spare no expense to hunt me down - but he’d be dead.
“Void,” Lord Ashworth said. He summoned the waitress and ordered the most expensive drinks on the menu. “We have a problem only you can solve.”
I resisted the urge to point out I wasn’t amused by his petty flattery. I had no false modesty - I knew I was good - but I was hardly unique. He didn’t want my problem-solving skills. He wanted a deniable asset, someone who could be disavowed if necessary. He wanted ... he wanted something he’d be unwilling to come out and say. I kept my face expressionless, despite my disgust. Lord Ashworth was one of the most powerful men
