Alastair Archibald: Dark Priory

"I feel it, Prioress,” Grimm forced the words past his parched lips and tongue, “but I still detest you. It's a false emotion. It comes from you, not from me."

"Shall we kiss him?” the Prioress crooned, leaning close to Grimm, her lips only inches away from his. “Shall we make sweet communion together?"

"If you try, I'll bite your tongue off!"

Lizaveta laughed, and Grimm fought to retain his hatred for the Prioress. He dug his fingernails into his palms and bit his lower lip hard, denying the overwhelming sensations of desire.

I am a Mage Questor! he screamed inside his head. She cannot overcome my will, however powerful she may be!

"I believe you could, young Afelnor,” the nun said. “You are indeed powerful, as I hoped, so I won't risk you breaking the control we have over you. Changing your mind will be a challenge, and I have never been one to shrink from a challenge. I am also very, very patient."

"So am I.” Grimm gasped. “So why not spare us both the bother? The spells you placed on me only worked because I didn't want to hurt Drex, and I don't want to kill the Dominie. You can't make me kill him, so forget the idea. Thorn will never be Dominie as long as I have breath in my body."

Lizaveta cackled again, this time shaking with mirth as tears rolled down her cheeks. “My traitorous son thinks I know so little of his pathetic machinations, but I know full well he intended you to kill me so I would leave him in peace. Thorn is no longer my son, and he lives only because it amuses me to let him think he knows something I don't. I have tolerated his disobedience and treachery for long enough. I don't care what happens to him at all."

Grimm felt a cold shock tingle through his nervous system. “Then why do you still want me to kill Horin, if Thorn isn't to take his place?"

"I have another candidate for the role, Lord Mage. He is a poor specimen, but I think I will find him far easier to control than my traitorous son. Also, unlike Thorn, he has ambition. I can work on that desire with ease."

"Not Guy!” Grimm screamed, his heart pounding. “If that egotistic, petty oaf ever becomes Dominie…"

He could not bring himself to think of the consequences.

"That's not something you need to worry about, Grimm Afelnor. I learnt much from dealing with Loras, I don't need to worry about your death revealing my magic this time. I shall use neither Geas nor Compulsion, my dear. By the time you commit the act, you will truly believe that what you are doing is right.

"You will stand trial and condemn yourself, with joy running through your heart as you do so. You will be condemned to death and executed as a traitor, and Guy will rise in the eyes of the Guild, even if he is not declared Dominie on the spot after discovering your treason. The evidence, of course, will be absolutely incontrovertible."

She's insane. I'm in the hands of a madwoman, and I can't escape!

"And now, my darling Questor, we need to work on making you love me; and you will love me."

Thribble! Surely Thribble will find a way out of this! I'll bet he's sneaking around the Priory even now!

"If you are wondering about your charming little pet imp,” the Prioress said, “don't worry; we discovered and captured him shortly after you came here. He is a most engaging little toy, and I will take great care of him."

She can read my mind! The thought blazed through the young mage's cerebrum like a raging forest fire.

He was truly helpless!

Grimm gritted his teeth and waited for the inevitable emotional assault. He had no idea what he could do to overcome this lunatic, but he intended to fight to the last iota of his resistance.

"Shall we begin?” the old woman said, as if offering some great treat. “Fight me as much as you wish-we have many avenues to explore. This, for example, is self-pity, something I'm sure you know well…"

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Magemaster Kargan wanted a hot bath more than anything else in the world. His robes were stiff with dried perspiration, and his grey hair hung in bedraggled tendrils.

The Great Spell cast on Loras so long ago remained intact, but Kargan was proud of the seven hard-won gold rings on his staff, Seeker: he had no intention of surrendering before he had tried every suitable spell at his command.

After an hour spent in casting one fruitless spell after another, he located the block on the former Questor's abilities, which he visualised as an iron clamp constraining Loras’ psyche.

However, Kargan knew that finding the mental impediment was one thing, but removing it was another. He had used all the power he had poured into Seeker, and he had been forced to use Loras as a human battery; fortunately, the former Questor had plenty to spare after decades as an enforced Secular. The Magemaster had hoped to be able to remove the block by a series of Persuasions and Easements, cajoling, enticing and commanding the barrier as if it were a living thing, but he had failed so far.

The Magemaster tried to relax for a few moments, running through the list of spells he had memorised after half a Secular lifetime in the Craft.

Sural's Freedom? No: that's just a tertiary adjunct to Barin's spell, and I've already tried that in the primary case.

Hap's Assertion? Orgel's Clarifier? No, they're Internal spells, and I doubt I could strengthen either of them to External form without months of research…

I'm going about this the wrong way, he told himself, fighting frustration and a sense of impotence. I've been gently pushing and pulling at Loras’ mind or at the block, trying to ease it off like a mother trying to remove a saucepan from a child's head. I really need to shatter the block…

How can I do that without shattering Loras’ mind, too?

Kargan almost gasped as the realisation came to him; if Loras’ soul was absent from his body, he could hammer and batter the block to his heart's content.

Kor's Mind-Steal! I'd have to act fast, but" Do you have a solution yet, Magemaster Kargan?"

"Perhaps, Master Loras, if you're willing to take a risk."

"Just what risk would I be taking, Magemaster?"

Kargan shrugged. “Maybe even your mortal life, Loras. I've gone easy on the block so far, because I've worried above all about damaging your mind. However, I know a spell capable of extracting your innermost mind and memories into Seeker. It would be a hazardous undertaking; every minute's delay will increase the risk that your body will refuse to accept your mind back again."

"You took my soul from my body with that time-travelling spell, Magemaster Kargan, did you not? I feel no ill effects from that."

Kargan shook his head. “That was different. This spell would strip your soul bare while leaving it in your body. After a while, the mindless soul will begin to assert itself, resisting the invasion of your mind. How long we have before the resistance becomes too strong depends upon your willpower. Without a body, your mind will begin to wither and die."

The Mentalist paused for a moment to let this sink in before continuing. “Another, lesser risk is that you will resist the spell. I need your utmost co-operation. You'll need a lot of willpower to submit to it."

Loras rolled his eyes. “I was a Mage Questor, and such men are renowned for their willpower. I accept the risk if you will."

"I don't know how long we have,” Kargan confessed. “It could be hours or minutes."

"Do it, Magemaster Kargan. I absolve you of any and all consequences. I feel imprisoned and powerless, and I wish to be free."

"Very well, Master Loras.” Kargan nodded and sighed. “I will try this for your sake."

"For the record,” the burly smith said, “I thank you with all my heart for your thaumaturgic skills and your attempts on my behalf. Drima has given her assent to these activities, whatever happens."