Chapter 29: Behind the Curtain

  “What?” Raeleq asked. “How do you know?”

  “I’m tied into the wards,” said Jessica. “The same way I knew Ambrose was breaking in like a clumsy ape. I know whenever he comes or goes because the wards default to me when he’s not around. He’s only like a minute away, let’s go!”

  No one was willing to argue with her after that. They turned to the door leading out, only for it to slam shut before they could get there.

  “That’s not good,” said Ambrose. He could get out with [Cloud Cushion], but that didn’t help the rest of them.

  Raeva tried the handle, but it didn’t budge. “Shit! Jessica, can you open this?”

  “I can try,” she said, but when she touched the handle, she immediately drew her hand back with a yelp. “He heightened the security. Oh no. We’re so…” She pulled on her hair.

  Ambrose shook his head. “Not entirely.” He snatched the deck box full of graduation cards and stuck it in his pocket before closing the safe and the painting. Everyone watched him bring the lamp back to the doors leading to the floating garden. He hung it back up, turning the light down just in time.

  The Wanderer arrived seconds later. It looked like any other ship at sea, except for the magic one-way barrier above the deck. Rather than a helm, there was a seat with a smaller wheel and several levers. Vanderborn sat at it, just a tiny spec, lit up by the lamp posts surrounding the landing pad, where it docked on the side of the gardens.

  “There he is,” Ambrose whispered. The dark of the office shielded them, but not for long.

  “Maybe we can negotiate,” Raeleq tried.

  “Yeah, sure,” Raeva scoffed. “‘I know you broke in and are trying to kickstart a rebellion, but maybe we can work something out.’ Sounds great.”

  “I’ll take the blame,” said Luthor grimly.

  “No one’s taking any blame,” Ambrose said. “C’mon, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t actually use his bedroom much.”

  He pushed past the rest of the group down the short hallway to the living quarters. The door opened easily, and Ambrose stepped inside, motioning for others to join him.

  Almost as one, they looked at the approaching wizard and the light coming from his staff as their time dwindled. Raeva was the first to move, ducking inside, followed by her brother and Luthor. Jessica hesitated, looking like she might stay before she too ran inside.

  Ambrose closed the door most of the way, leaving it open just a tiny crack. A few seconds later, the garden doors opened with a light creak, and closed with a solid thump. The lantern, and other lights around the office activated, providing dim, dreamlike light through the crack in the door.

  Vanderborn took his time setting his staff down, and Ambrose thought he heard a drink being poured before the unmistakable sound of the man collapsing in his comfortable office chair made Ambrose relax. He opened the door a little wider, to the silent panic of his friends, but the chair faced away from the bedroom. They saw the back of their headmaster’s head as he went through his desk.

  He retrieved a small golden box from his robe pockets and set it on his desk. A second later, it projected silvery light above it, in the shape of a large, impossibly chiseled shirtless man on an absurdly ornate stone throne. Two massive marble hands cradled the giant’s body as he lay decadently across it. It took up most of the office, dominating their headmaster’s space.

  “Vanderborn,” the figure’s deep, rolling voice said. “Report.”

  “The trip to Mustabaran was successful. The world is nearly under our control now. There’s one last pocket of resistance we’re working on, but they are almost ready to submit.”

  “Mustabaran?” Raeleq mouthed in confusion. Raeva put a finger in front of her mouth, but none of them had heard the name.

  “Almost,” the deep voice echoed imperiously. “This world has taken longer to conquer than normal. Explain, Vanderborn.”

  Their headmaster stiffened. Ambrose blinked at seeing their fearsome headmaster, possibly the strongest wizard in the whole world, showing deference and humility to someone else. “It is much like my own world, Your Grace. There are more wizards available, more people attuned to card magic than usual. It will make for a much better harvest, but it also means more resistance. It will be yours by the end of the year at the latest.”

  In the bedroom, they looked amongst themselves wildly. This didn’t sound like the Charles Vanderborn they knew. Or rather, it did, but so much worse. Raeva and Raeleq were obviously pissed, Luthor looked grave, and Jessica entirely lost. Ambrose’s mind whirled with the implications of this, and the paperwork he found with unfamiliar names.

  “You’ve done well, Vanderborn. I’m pleased. Very nearly pleased enough to give you a boon. What is the status of your current crop of students?”

  Their headmaster cleared his throat. “Out of the graduating class, there are four people I believe will join us, one that is unclear, and another that will make for a powerful card and example to the others. The year after that looks to have similar prospects.”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  The man on the throne cocked his head. “Including your own kin, yes? You’ve provided so many soldiers to me. What was her name again?”

  “Jessica, Your Grace. But no, I do not expect her to graduate. I’m afraid she’s something of a disappointment. She has neither the power nor the will to further your goals, but I am sure I can find a use for her around here.”

  They all looked at their friend, who inhaled sharply. Tears filled her eyes, but to Jessica’s credit, she remained silent. She did, however, shake from the effort of holding it in. As dark as it was, nearly everyone shared a murderous look of disgust.

  “A shame, but I suppose you’ve provided enough of your family for the cause.” He waved him off, as if absolving him of a perceived failure. “What of the rebellions there on Amaria?”

  This time, Vanderborn took a second to collect his thoughts. “One of the greatest sources of strife is soon to be under our heel. King Rhondo Ransa of the Bedamin to the south’s two oldest children are in my hands, and I’m going to apply the right leverage to get him to fall in line. Without him, the rest are toothless. A year and a half, and we’ll have the entirety of this continent smoothly producing new cards, and we’ll turn our eastern continent into a source of crops and meat. We’ll prove to you, for good, that Amaria is the most bountiful and loyal subject of the Hermanic Empire.”

  If things were bad before, how much worse would things be if he knew they overheard this? Ambrose checked on the Ransas, who looked even more angry than before. But like all of them, there was a weight to this information. No one would have ever accused Amaria of being a kind place, or anything less than an expansionist country…But the two of them talked like Amaria was nothing, just a colony itself.

  And other worlds? It couldn’t be true, could it?

  “Yes, I’m pleased, Vanderborn,” the emperor’s deep voice rumbled. “When your conquest of your own world and Mustabran is complete, you will receive your promotion, and the entire cluster of worlds will be yours to govern in my name.”

  “You have my gratitude, Your Grace,” he said, bowing his head. “And my loyalty, as always.”

  “Be well, Vanderborn, and bring me more soldiers.”

  Without another word, the image of the Emperor vanished, leaving the headmaster alone in the office, and the rest of them frozen with shock.

  Before they could say anything or even whisper their plans or confusion, Vanderborn spoke up. “Come on out, I know you’re there.”

  It was hard to tell who was the most afraid there. Tears did fall from Jessica’s face now, Raeleq had to hold Raeva back, and Luthor looked ready to come out and take the fall for them all.

  Ambrose held up a finger and pointed at the ground between them. The meaning was clear, wait, and he’d deal with it. Luthor nodded after a second’s hesitation.

  “Well, that was interesting,” he said as he left the bedroom and sauntered up to the desk. He made sure to mostly close the door behind him, leaving it open just a crack for them to hear. “I don’t think I was supposed to overhear that!”

  Vanderborn eyed him, obviously annoyed at his faux-cheerfulness. “No, you weren’t. Nor were you supposed to be in my office while I was away. You…You little shit.”

  Ambrose forced an overconfident grin and shrugged. “You said I could have a card of my choice so long as I managed to get it. I chose the Wildcard, and I got it. And with it, I’m going to win the tournament. Assuming you don’t murder me for overhearing your plot to conquer and exploit the whole world, naturally. I’m a bit worried about that.”

  For a second, it looked like the aged wizard planned on doing just that. The spike of anger in his eyes filled Ambrose with ice, but eventually he took a deep breath. “I’d rather not. You are an annoying, presumptuous, arrogant little bastard, but you are undeniably talented, and we could use the manpower we can get. I suppose the real question is, are you ready to commit to working for me now? Think twice before saying no, thief.”

  Ambrose stroked his goatee. “You know, that’s a good question, but I feel like I don’t have many options, to tell the truth. If it’s either join or die, well. I like living, most of the time. I think you know what my answer is, but I want the truth.”

  “Oh, is that all?” Vanderborn scoffed. “The truth about what?”

  There were a million possible questions running through his head, but only one of them gave him any sort of excitement or comfort. “What was that about other worlds?”

  The headmaster smiled, and it was surprisingly genuine. “That’s what I asked first, when Emperor Turhan’s men approached me forty years ago. This world is but one of many, countless in number, out in the aether. They are…There’s a world for every idea, every kind of magic and creature you can imagine. And the Emperor rules over them, taking world after world into his care. Unifying them.”

  “Whether they want to be ruled or not, I imagine,” said Ambrose, feeling a lot like Raeva. His damned classmates had ruined him. The idea of being a conqueror shouldn’t have given him such pause. Just a month ago, it wouldn’t have.

  “Obviously, no one wants to be ruled,” Vanderborn scoffed, “but it’s necessary. He’s the one responsible for crystalizing our magic into what it is now. It’s the Emperor who has uplifted races and worlds and given them a higher quality of living, standard laws to follow, and the chance to travel. Without him, there would be no moving between worlds, no connection. We’d be on our own, on our solitary rock in a cold, indifferent universe.”

  It was then that Ambrose realized that no matter how cynical or selfish the headmaster seemed, right now he sounded downright devout. It was weird and felt wrong, but he could see the appeal. Amaria was big, but it was depressing and always at war. What would it be like, if entire worlds were brought under a peaceful banner?

  “And the cards?” he pushed. “You’re using these worlds for new cards.”

  “Yes. Many of these worlds are rich with magic, and low with population. We can harvest the natural cards that grow from these worlds…and anyone who stands in our way, we harvest them as well. There’s no escaping the empire, I’m afraid. We all serve, in our own way. It is inevitable.”

  It was everything Ambrose had believed about Amaria and his future role in the perpetual games of power and wealth. The scale was just larger. Depressingly huge, in fact. Inevitable was a good word for it, but for the first time in his life, it sounded more awful than acceptable.

  But he couldn’t afford to say no. The only thing that remained was getting the others out of it.

  “I understand,” said Ambrose. “Obviously, I’ll serve. But I need a drink. Would you be so kind as to join me for one down in town? We can discuss things in more detail then.”

  Vanderborn smiled again. This one wasn’t as honest, or as pleasant. “Of course. We have much to discuss. But before we do, I think it’s important to talk to everyone at once. The rest of you, come out.”