Moral Stand (Aether’s Revival Book 7)

Gregory was surprised at how many times Artok needed to be forced into helping. He wasn’t above applying the pressure needed, it was just unexpected to him. His last conversation with Artok had let him think that the magus would be more amenable if he had proof of Chainer’s deeds. There were paths that didn’t end up with a dead magi, so Gregory had a few options. For Phineas and his son, Charl, the paths all led to them being arrested and summarily executed. In a few of those, the manor guards attacked the assembled guards and magi, but in most of the futures he saw, the hired men were smart enough to stay out of it.

Foresight led into meditation training, breakfast, and the Peaceful Fist with his men. The only men who wouldn’t be in armor later were the three still recovering from serious wounds. Gregory spoke with each of them— he wasn’t a healer, but he could see their wounds getting better far quicker with the alchemical aids he’d given them.

With his morning rituals done, Gregory returned to his room. Dot would show the commander and magi upstairs when they arrived. Polka brought up a full pot of tea and cups that Gregory then put into his ring, keeping it hot for his guests. He set out some of the extra pastries he still had in his ring; his count of what he normally purchased had changed with three of his men dead.

Gregory lapsed into resonance meditation while he waited. That was how he knew that his guests had arrived before Dot could knock. The tea was on the table before Artok and Roberts entered the room. He stood to greet the two men, motioning them to their seats before pouring for everyone.

“I dislike being summoned by an adept, Pettit,” Artok said flatly. “Roberts assured me it was important.”

Gregory felt the pressure Artok was pushing out, but it wasn’t affecting him. Roberts looked highly uncomfortable— the magus wasn’t spirit path, so he couldn’t direct his aura. Gregory let his own resonance wrap around Artok’s, only pushing it back from Roberts for the time being.

“When a magi is attacked, it is a serious matter,” Gregory said softly. Placing his reports on the table, he gave Artok a cool smile. “My reports. They detail everything you need to know.”

Artok frowned, trying to increase the pressure in the room, but he saw Roberts relaxing and Gregory’s unconcerned expression. Sipping at his tea one more time before setting it down, he collected the reports to read them. “Very well, Adept.”

Roberts gave Gregory a questioning look. The pressure of a magi had been weighing on him, but then it suddenly vanished. He was sure that Gregory had a hand in it, but he didn’t know how. Gregory smiled faintly, nudging the plate of pastries toward him. Roberts selected a red bean bun to sample while they waited.

“They come from a reputable place,” Gregory said.

Roberts nodded, enjoying the treat. The residual warmth inside of it was very pleasant in the chill morning. When Gregory told him the name of the baker, he said he would have to make it a point to stop by on occasion. Maybe he’d even surprise his wife with a small cake to celebrate their anniversary.

Artok’s face was stony as he read each report. When he finished, his aether had pulled back, no longer trying to pressure people. The evidence against Phineas was damning— there was nothing Artok could do. That upset him, as he’d be losing a powerful figure who owed him greatly. That anger was quickly shifted to Gregory, as it was all his fault it’d come to this. Aether surging, he tried to make Gregory sweat from the pressure.

Feeling the ebb, then sudden surge of resonance, Gregory smiled and drank from his cup. Pushing the resonance back, he wrapped it in his, shoving it back onto Artok. “Well, Magus, are you going to be with us when we deliver justice for crimes against the empire?”

Artok frowned, then shifted when he felt pressure building around him. He pushed his entire will into breaking it, but that only seemed to redouble the sensation. “What… are… you… doing?”

“Containing you,” Gregory said, setting his cup down. “Release your aura. You’ll see what I’m saying.”

Artok grimaced as sweat beaded on his forehead. With a grunt, he let his aura go, no longer trying to overpower the adept. The moment he did, the pressure he felt vanished and he breathed easier. That left a question as to how the adept had managed it, but before he could ask, an even greater pressure crashed down on him. There’d been a few seconds of nothing, so Artok was sure this was Gregory’s doing.

“You only respect strength, as so many magi do,” Gregory said sadly. “If you studied the spirit path, you’d understand what’s happening right now. Control is a key component to what you were trying to do, but the spirit path is where one learns that control.”

Artok wheezed, sweat falling from his forehead. He hadn’t felt pressure like this since he was in the academy and he’d stood before the clan head for a disciplinary hearing. The fact that an adept was making him feel like he’d angered a master-tier magi was both shocking and frightening. What would the adept do in a few years when he touched magus-tier?

“I never wanted it to come to this point,” Gregory said calmly, picking his cup back up. “All I wanted was for people to follow the laws. A small thing, or it should’ve been, but instead, people tried to kill me. Attacking a magi has a single sentence, and today, we’ll see it administered.”

Artok heaved a deep breath when the pressure vanished. “Chainer… yes… fine.”

Gregory wasn’t smiling as he watched the magus. “You killed the first assassin for him, didn’t you?”

Sitting back, Artok began to calculate if he was going to be attacked. “The man died when I questioned him. I was not sent to kill him.”

“I’m not going to push that line of questioning, Magus… just be aware that I know. You profited from everything I’ve done in the last half-year. Now, you’ll lose all the potential profits that you haven’t already collected.”

Snatching his cup, Artok drank deeply. Gregory wasn’t wrong, and it chafed him. If he’d just insisted that Chainer follow the dumb laws for a year, none of this would be happening now.

“When do we go?” Artok asked as he set his empty cup down.

“Roberts?” Gregory asked.

“I can have the men ready in a half-hour,” Roberts replied, brushing the bun crumbs from his shirt.

“Meet at the command post,” Gregory said. “My men will accompany us. There is a chance that Chainer will order his men to attack. We want to make sure they refuse that order.”

“They’ll die if they don’t,” Artok snorted as he stood.

“I doubt they will with my men and his there,” Roberts said. “I’ll have everything ready, Magi.”

“See you there,” Gregory said.

~*~*~

Just like in Icelake, the town took notice of the gathering of the guards. There was a slightly larger crowd when they reached Phineas Chainer’s manor. Phineas had hired additional guards, maybe hoping to save himself, but they all looked uncertain upon seeing the combined might of the town guard, magi guards, and two magi coming their way.

“Open the gates by order of myself and Magus Artok,” Roberts commanded loudly. “We are here to arrest Phineas Chainer for the attempted murder of a magi.”

The manor was nearly identical to the one in Icelake, so Phineas walked out onto the balcony above the front doors. He had to raise his voice to be heard clearly at the gate, “I will not let false charges see me killed. Men, resist this unlawful attack!”

Artok smiled and formed a wind blade, throwing it at the closest manor guard. The magic cut the man in half with ease. “Open the gates, or more will join him.”

The manor guards dropped their weapons, rushing to throw the gates open— no one wanted to be killed by an angry magi.

“Thank you, Magus,” Roberts said. He rode his horse through, followed by Artok, Gregory, and then the guards.

Chainer was red-faced as he sneered down at the trio of riders. “You think you can intimidate me?! You have no proof of these false charges!”

“Your brother died for these same charges,” Gregory spoke up. “Your nephew gave us your correspondence with his father. Add in the letters on the Buldoun mage and the shadow magi, both of whom tried to kill me, and we have all the evidence we need. Your choice is to surrender yourself to save your family, or let us pull the entire house down with you.”

“You do not scare us,” Charl said, joining his father at the railing. “We have allies in many clans. We’ll be free in hours. We will see you destroyed for turning on us, Artok. We will give evidence of your—!”

A dozen wind blades cut the two men at the railing apart. Blood and viscera showered down from the balcony. A gust of wind kept it from reaching the riders, throwing it all at the manor wall.

“Justice has been served. Since they didn’t surrender as required—” Artok went on, seeing a way to claim the Chainer family’s wealth for himself.

“I will cooperate with the magi,” a woman said, coming forward. She was pale with pieces of bloody flesh stuck to her dress. Lips trembling, she did her best to project confidence. “I am Tinessa Chainer, daughter of Phineas. I will supply everything required to the town commander. Unlike my father and brother, I know my place in the empire, Magus.”

“Accepted. I will arrange a meeting tomorrow,” Roberts said. “I want all of his correspondences so we can make sure to root out any other plots he might’ve had.”

“Yes, Commander,” Tinessa said, then lunged to the side. She became violently ill, unable to hold back anymore.

“We’re done,” Artok said stiffly. With a claimant to the house, he couldn’t sweep in to snatch it. Turning his horse, he rode away, done with the matter.

“Tinessa,” Gregory called up when she finished voiding her stomach and Artok was gone, “we’ll need the files he kept on Artok, as well. Just make sure those go into Roberts’ hands.”

The young woman looked down with confusion, but then bowed to him. “As you decree, Magi. I’m sorry for what my family has done. You said my cousin, Rustin, took over in Icelake?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now we can make real changes.”

“Let him remind you of the laws,” Gregory said softly. “If people would just follow them, none of this would’ve happened.”

“Yes, Magi.”

Gregory looked at Roberts, who nodded. Together, they ordered their men to march out of the yard. Gregory and Roberts rode side by side, the worry about what might happen gone now that the Chainer family was finally handled.