The First Confessor: The Legend of Magda Searus

Chapter 91

Some in the crowd lifted fists, shouting their anger that this was the source of the mysterious murders, the war going so poorly, and all their other troubles, echoing the sentiment that both Tilly and Magda should be executed immediately.

Others in the crowd, though, looked disheartened, distraught, and confused by what was happening. This was to have been the day of a joyous wedding, of the Keep coming together in unity, a reason for hope in the midst of troubled times.

A few people broke out in tears. Others turned their faces away. They had believed in Magda as well as Baraccus, and now that confidence was shaken or even shattered. Magda could see in the tormented expressions that some people felt that their faith had been betrayed.

“Why would Lady Searus do all this?” Elder Cadell asked from behind the desk, his voice carrying out over the crowd.

“You see,” Lothain explained, “her plan all along was to discredit me.” He turned from the elder to the audience. “She knew how effective I’ve been as head prosecutor. I’ve ferreted out, prosecuted, and executed a number of her fellow conspirators. I was getting too close to the heart of the plot and she feared I would uncover her deadly plans. She wanted to stop me from exposing the rest of the traitors here at the Keep so that they could continue to sabotage our efforts, so she made wild accusations about me, hoping not only to throw me off track but to damage my ability to do my duty to our people.

“When so many of you good people maintained your steadfast faith in me, that plan failed to work out as well as she had hoped. She became impatient and decided to use her feminine wiles to worm her way into my life, taking the route of my heart. I believed her sincerity at first, as did so many of you, but in the end I came to see through her schemes.”

Some in the crowd shouted angrily for Magda’s head.

Magda maintained the mask that showed nothing.

Even though the soldiers were holding her by her arms, she managed to lift her hand out enough that the crowd could see that she meant for them to see the ring she was wearing.

“The symbol on this ring is at the heart of what is happening,” she said to the people watching. “Lothain and those he is loyal to seek to breach this. If they succeed, you will all die, but that will not be the end of your suffering. If they breach this, your souls will never be able to join the good spirits. They will instead wander between worlds, forever lost.”

The wave of worried murmurs started in again. She knew that none in the crowd could see what was on the ring, but it succeeded in stirring their curiosity. Lothain couldn’t help but notice.

“What is that you have, there?” he demanded.

“Something you fear,” Magda said with a defiant smile.

When Lothain saw the smile he stormed across the dais.

“Let me see that.” He gestured to the soldiers to release her arms so that she could show him the ring. “You heard me, let me see what it is you have there.”

Magda lifted her hand to show him the ring with the Grace, but she kept it just out of his reach.

“This? Merritt gave it to me.”

He had given it to her when she had come back from beyond the veil. She had traveled the lines of the Grace and returned. She had lived what the Grace represented.

She’d told him that she knew she was safe in his hands, that she knew he would protect her. That was when he had given her the ring. He said he wanted her to have it as a symbol of his protection.

It meant more to her than anything she had ever been given.

It meant everything to her.

“Merritt? Merritt is a traitor and has been arrested as well,” Lothain said out toward the crowd before turning back to Magda. “Why would he give such an important and sacred object to you, to a nobody?”

Magda arched an eyebrow. “A nobody? He gave it to me because I am a protector of the Grace.” She pulled her hand back out of his reach when he grabbed for it again. “Because I am a champion of truth.”

“Champion of truth? You’re a nobody!”

“If I was a nobody you wouldn’t be so eager to see me dead. Just like these people here, you know that I am devoted to the truth. That’s why you want to eliminate me.”

“You are a nobody! Worse than a nobody, you’re a traitor devoted only to murdering our people and you will be executed for your crimes! Now give that to me!”

Lothain charged forward like an angry bull that was being repeatedly taunted. He reached out again, snatching for her hand.

Magda again pulled the hand back, drawing him onward in a rush. Then, in an instant, she reversed her retreat and stepped into his charge.

Magda planted her hand in the center of his barrel chest, becoming a wall against his full weight.

In that instant, he had made the last mistake of his life: he had let her touch him.

Magda knew that it was not necessary for her to invoke the power within her. It was hers, now, always there. She had but to release her restraint of it.

She felt no pressure of his advance against her hand because the world had already stopped in the instant that she made contact. Lothain might as well have been a feather coming at her.

Time was hers.

This was the man who, along with his fellow spies, directed the dream walkers toward the minds they wanted to sneak into and snatch. This was the man, along with his fellow spies, who awakened the dead and sent them out in the night to kill people. This was the man who had sent one of the walking dead to tear Isidore apart.

This was not the prosecutor who protected the people of the Midlands from those doing evil, this was the vicious enemy who plotted against them, who planned their demise, who served evil.

And now he was hers.

The inner violence of her power’s cold, coiled force slipping its bonds was breathtaking. Unleashed, that power exploded through her, surging up from the depths of the dark core deep within, obediently inundating every fiber of her being.

It was a dead silent, pristine instant of the ignition of a fierce new power unleashed into the world for the first time. Nothing would ever be the same—for Lothain, or for Magda.

She contained no hate, no rage, no horror, no sorrow . . . no mercy. In that infinitesimal spark of time, her mind was a void where there was no emotion, only the all-consuming rush of her power through the void of time suspended.

He had no chance, none at all. He was hers.

Time was hers.

Magda could see beads of his sweat suspended in air. She could have counted every dark hair of his stubble before he moved half the width of one of those hairs.

She could see the first hint of terror in his black eyes.

She could see that, while he didn’t yet comprehend how, he was beginning to realize that he had just made the biggest mistake of his life. Even as he wanted to draw back from her touch, there was no chance. He might as well have been carved from stone.

Magda could see the gift in his eyes, too, but it would do him no good. His mind would be gone before he had time to begin to form a thought of how to defend himself.

Like a room of thousands of mute statues, everyone watched, but Magda was focused on this man who had done so much harm, who intended so much more. Behind her, the soldiers were also frozen in place even as they reached for her, but they, too, had no chance to close the distance and make it to her.

Magda was in a silent world of her own.

In that spark of time, her power suddenly became all.

Thunder without sound jolted the air around her.

The violence of it was magnificent, immaculate, glorious.

As the world came crashing back, the heavy concussion raced outward in a ring, knocking the soldiers near her off their feet. People close to the dais screamed as they toppled back from the impact of the power exploding outward in an ever-expanding circle.

When it ended, the people who had been closest were on the floor, rolling around, crying out in pain, clutching their aching joints. Those not quite as close staggered back but were able to stay on their feet and weren’t in as much pain. Those farther back fared better yet, showing little sign of being hurt.

Lothain, showing no signs of pain at all, dropped to his knees before Magda, looking up with new eyes, eyes that revealed only the wish to please her.

“Mistress, command me.”

The two closest soldiers, still struggling to recover from the pain, managed to get to their feet. They both drew weapons as they lurched toward her.

Merritt, having appeared from the shadows not far away, thrust his left arm out, palm up. At the same time as he was launching magic with his left hand, he was drawing his sword with his right. The bolt of power he hurled streaked across the dais, the air wavering in its wake, and slammed into the two men with the force of an avalanche. Both men disintegrated in blackened bits of flesh and bone. As they hit the floor, unrecognizable, gooey, sooty fragments spilled out from their uniforms and across the floor in the direction they had been running. There was nothing recognizable left. The air smelled of burned flesh and hair.

It was a staggering demonstration of power that stopped a few of the men in green tunics in their tracks. Magda had never seen the gift used in such a shocking way. She wasn’t sure if anyone in the room had.

Other soldiers, though, off to the sides and farther away, big men, angry and eager to fight, raced forward to take out the threat that had felled their fellow soldiers. Merritt was already spinning, sword already arcing around. When the blade caught the men, the air exploded with a fog of blood. Bone fragments hit the columns with a sickening sound. Merritt was in a full rage unleashed.

Battle erupted in the council chambers, with men falling to Merritt’s sword or bolts of power as fast as they went after Magda. Merritt didn’t let any of them get remotely close to her. The attempt brought a swift death.

In the calm at the center of the chaos, at Magda’s feet, Lothain put his hands together. “Please, Mistress, command me.”

Magda glanced around at the battle, then back down at Lothain. “Tell your men to stop. Stand up and command them to stop.”

Lothain jumped to his feet. “Stop!” he called out. “All of you who served me, I command you to stop!”

Magda could see men of the Home Guard pouring in the doors at the rear of the room, weapons to hand, as the men in green tunics came to a confused halt on Lothain’s command.

“Tell them to lay down their weapons and surrender to the Home Guard,” Magda told Lothain.

“Soldiers of the prosecutor’s office,” Lothain screamed, “lay down your weapons and surrender!”

Bewildered, many of the men looked around and cautiously began following his orders. Others who didn’t were overpowered by the soldiers of the Home Guard and disarmed. The few who wouldn’t listen and fought on were cut down. Soon, all of Lothain’s private army were either dead or subdued.

The men in green tunics who had been holding Tilly likewise unbuckled their weapons belts and let them drop to the floor as soldiers with swords drawn closed in. With no one holding her up, Tilly collapsed.

Magda gestured to a young sorceress she knew standing close to the front of the spectators. “Please, Davina, can you help Tilly?”

The sorceress nodded, lifted her skirts, and rushed up onto the dais to see to helping the woman.

Elder Cadell shot to his feet. “What is the meaning of this outrage! Magda, what do you think you’re doing!”

“Sit down,” she said in a deadly cold voice. “Prosecutor Lothain is about to confess so that everyone can know the truth.”

“The truth? What do you think—”

“I said sit down,” she repeated through gritted teeth.

When he saw the look in her eyes, he sank back down into his tall chair.