The Purloined Heart

That wasn’t a pleasant thought. Lord Dragon had had plenty of time to fortify his territory against intruders. The simple fact that the aristocrat who owned the land hadn’t managed to evict him was clear proof his territory was well defended, or—I supposed—that Lord Dragon had an agreement with his overlord. It was rare for a magician to pledge himself to a feudal superior, but Lord Dragon had already discarded so many customs, I couldn’t imagine him being reluctant to discard one more. He was a slaver, after all. I could easily imagine him trading a handful of spell-controlled slaves for territory and freedom.

We spent the night in the inn, then set off on foot the following morning. The landscape was rough and patchy, dominated by tiny farms run by peasants eking a living from the soil, but it grew wilder as we made our way toward his territory. There were fewer and fewer peasants living close to the magician—a bad sign. The road was surprisingly decent, for a place so far off the beaten track, but the trees grew so thick, it was hard to see a path through them.

I spotted the beggar’s mark on a stone at the edge of the territory, and frowned. The mark was a clear warning—to those with the eyes to see—not to cross the line. I guessed something bad had happened to the first beggar to visit the magician, and the others had taken heed.

“We need to get off the road,” I said. Any magician worthy of the name would have dozens of spells woven into the road to sound the alarm when unwanted guests entered his territory. “Stay with me.”

Starlight snorted. “What do you think I was planning to do?”

I smiled—I’d had a few partners who’d gotten themselves into trouble by wandering off—and led the way into the thicket. It was difficult to pick a path through the trees. They were so close together, I had no idea how they survived.

I stopped as I sensed a flicker of magic ahead, and reached out with my senses, parsing out the first set of traps. Lord Dragon wasn’t taking anything for granted. There were dozens—no, hundreds of spells littering the landscape, from simple repulsion spells and nightmare hexes to change and paralysis curses, the latter designed to inflict as much pain and agony as possible.

I had no idea how he powered them all. Constantly replenishing the spells would be an utter nightmare, even for an entire team of magicians, and it should’ve been impossible. The area wasn’t known for being tainted with wild magic, and only a fool would risk trying to use wild magic to power regular spells. There were easier and less painful ways to commit suicide.

We inched forward, careful not to touch any of the spells. Some were relatively harmless, even to a powerless mundane; others would’ve killed me as easily as they’d have killed her or any wanderer who took a wrong turning and found himself walking blind into a magician’s territory. I could feel a web of magic flickering through the trees, powering the charms—

A nasty thought crossed my mind, and I pressed my ear against the nearest tree, looking back in shock as I heard a psychic scream. Horror washed through me as I realized what Lord Dragon had done. He’d turned every intruder who’d entered his territory into a tree, their life force and magical potential channeled into the defenses. I’d seen some horrors in my time—man’s inhumanity to man was always shocking—but this… Lord Dragon might not be a necromancer, but he was still a monster. I shuddered to think how many people had been sacrificed to power his defenses.

“I think we’re nearing the house,” Starlight said. She’d been so quiet that her voice almost made me jump. “Can you get inside?”

“We’ll see when we get there,” I said.

So far, I hadn’t seen much to impress me. Lord Dragon had a surfeit of power, but he didn’t seem to be using it very imaginatively. I could think of several ways to improve his defenses, to make it impossible for anyone to get inside without sounding an alarm. Our path through the deadly network of traps was a winding one, but so far, we’d avoided triggering any alarms or being turned into frogs. Or trees. The forest came to a dead stop, revealing a mansion hidden within the trees. It was smaller than I’d expected, although that was meaningless when magic was involved. Whitehall was far bigger on the inside, and I’d seen other magical buildings that were very similar. Lord Dragon certainly had enough power to craft a pocket dimension and keep it from collapsing indefinitely.

I peered forward, looking for possible traps or watching eyes.

There were none.

The lawn was overgrown, and the flowerbeds crammed with herbal ingredients. I couldn’t help thinking no one was bothering to take care of the gardens.