Bound

chapter 17

The dreamstone was dark and silent. From outside, I could hear muffled voices, and I was distantly aware that the battle between Onyx and the Crusaders must be over. They were about to break into the control room, and this time I wouldn’t be able to stop them. Somehow, it didn’t seem important. Whatever that thing was that had thrown me out of Anne’s head, it had felt like claiming territory. I needed to get to her.

I scanned the futures, then tapped a command into the computer, pulled out my gun, and fired into the computer bank. With a whirr most of the remaining screens went black. I moved to the back door, watching the lights on the panel. What I’d just done wouldn’t keep the Crusaders out; the systems had redundancies. They could override the controls. But to do that, they’d have to cancel the lockdown, which meant . . .

The lights on the panel went green. I pulled the back door open and stepped through just an instant before the Crusaders came in the front. I was free.

I ran towards the vaults. The Crusaders had the control room, and it wouldn’t take them long to get the cameras back up, and once that happened, they’d know the location of everyone in the facility, including me. I needed to make it there before that happened.

After the earlier battle, the corridors felt eerily silent, my footsteps echoing off the walls. I passed a clump of bodies, cut sideways through an access corridor, then slowed as I drew close to the entrance to the main vault. It was the same door that I’d guided Vihaela through, and it was occupied. I stopped one turning away, listening.

“. . . don’t have time for this!” someone was saying. “Send your men in!” It was the lightning mage, Zilean, and he sounded agitated. So he’s still alive, I thought coldly. Pity.

“No,” another voice replied, this one older and steadier. “We’re holding for Jarnaff.”

“It’s one girl!”

“Whatever that thing was, it was not a girl.”

“She’s using some Dark mage trick. If you’d committed—”

“That trick just fucking ate three of my men in as many seconds. While you turned and ran.”

“I’ll have you sent—” Zilean’s voice sharpened. “Wait. Someone’s here!”

I was already turning the corner, breaking into a sprint. I didn’t know what I was going to find behind those doors, but Zilean seemed convinced that Anne was still alive and that was good enough for me. I had a brief confused image of the Crusaders clustered around the shattered vault door—Zilean was there, and so was Lightbringer—then I threw a condenser right into the middle of them and they disappeared in a bank of mist.

Shouts broke out, three different people trying to give orders at once, but the Crusaders hadn’t been prepared for someone behind them and in the confusion I ran straight through their ranks. Shapes loomed up in the mist, then I was through.

I don’t remember much about that last mad dash. The corridors between the door and the vault proper held the final security measures that Vihaela and Anne had fought their way past, but I didn’t have time to stop and look. I saw a monstrous shape, clawed and fanged, lying dead against the wall, and shattered constructs piled in the first room. Something hissed and snatched at my ankles, but I dodged and kept going, and came out at last into the main storage vault.

My first impression was of size; I hadn’t realised just how big the place was. The ceiling was arched stone, and it looked ancient, as though it had been here for a long, long time. Wooden cabinets were tucked into alcoves, and pedestals held boxes and stasis cases. Most were open, broken by the Dark mages in their looting. A couple of the cabinets to the right were smoking and burnt, and a section of wall had been shattered as though by some great force, but my eyes were only for Anne, lying against one of the pillars. Her eyes were closed and she wasn’t moving.

I rushed to her side, kneeling down to touch her neck. Anne didn’t seem hurt—her pulse was steady and she was breathing—but she wasn’t getting up either, and as I looked through the futures, I saw that she wasn’t going to. Her hand was clutched around something that looked like a signet ring, the fingers locked tight. There was no sign of the “thing” that the Crusaders had been talking about, nor of the missing men. Briefly I wondered what had happened here, then put it out of my mind. I pulled out Vihaela’s communicator. “Cinder, this is Verus.”

A pause, then Cinder replied. “Verus? We’re bailing. Crusaders brought in reinforcements. Get to the east wing.”

The east wing was most of the way across the facility. I thought about my chances of making it all the way there, through the Crusaders, while carrying Anne’s unconscious body. “Can’t.”

“Where are you?”

“Main vault.”

There was a moment’s silence. “Can’t get to you.”

I paused. “Anything you can give me?”

“That focus Vihaela used still running?”

I’d already checked. “No.”

There was another pause. “Got nothing,” Cinder said at last. “Sorry.”

“Yeah,” I said. There was danger in the futures, coming closer. The Crusaders had recovered from their surprise. “Guess we’ll have to catch up another time.”

“You make it out, I’ll do what I can for cover,” Cinder said. “If not . . . take a few of the bastards with you.”

I switched off the communicator and looked into the futures. The Crusaders were going to be here in less than thirty seconds. I heaved Anne up in my arms; she felt lighter than I remembered from the last time I’d had to do this. There was a partition halfway across the vault which blocked off the view of the back of the room and I carried her behind it, setting her down gently to rest against the wall.

Voices sounded from the other side of the partition. I looked to the right, towards where Vihaela’s Dark mages had opened that gate. The focus they’d used to do it was gone and I was pretty sure they’d taken it with them. In theory, they could still use it to come back for us. I knew they wouldn’t.

More voices, cautious footsteps. I held still. There was a chance that the Crusaders wouldn’t find us. Sure, they were mages, but not every mage has a spell that makes it impossible to hide from them. Okay, so life and death mages can find you through walls, and mind and charm mages can pick up your thoughts and your feelings, and air mages can feel you breathe, and fire mages can follow the trail of your body heat, and earth mages can sense the vibration of your footsteps, but it was possible that the Crusader group didn’t have any of those, right?

A voice sounded from the direction of the entrance. “We are here under the authority of the Council. Come out where we can see you.”

I didn’t move. Maybe they’re bluffing.

“We can see you hiding behind that partition. You’ve got ten seconds before we blow it down on top of you.”

I sighed. Not bluffing. I walked out into the open.

The group of mages standing at the entrance was like a Who’s Who of Light mages that I did not want to meet. Zilean was there, his eyes narrowing as he saw me, and flanking him was Lightbringer, his face stolid and expressionless as he held a shield of glowing energy in one hand and a blade of light in the other. There were two other mages I didn’t recognise, one surrounded by a shield of flame, the other with eddies of air magic swirling around him. Six men with guns were spread out around the mages; two were watching the back, while the other four were covering me. Unlike the men who’d been defending the facility, they didn’t wear the garb of Council security. They looked more like mercenaries, or worse. And at the front, wearing battle armour with his shaven head bare, was Jarnaff, my old friend from the War Rooms. “Verus,” he said with a tight smile. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Jarnaff,” I said unemotionally.

“You know, I thought Morden was going to be a little more discreet,” Jarnaff said. “Didn’t expect him to send his aide.”

“I’m not here because of Morden,” I said. I already had the feeling that I wasn’t going to be able to talk my way out of this, but maybe I could buy some time. “I came under orders from the Council.”

“Did you now.”

“I’ve been working for the Keepers this whole time.”

“Bullshit,” Zilean cut in.

“You don’t believe me?” I said. “Sal Sarque signed off on the deal. Go ask him.”

Jarnaff studied me, and I felt the futures shift. They were changing . . . but not enough, and I felt my heart sink. This isn’t going to work.

Zilean couldn’t see what I could. “He’s lying,” he said harshly.

Jarnaff made a soothing motion. “Easy, Zilean.”

“He knows it’ll take too long to get in touch,” Zilean said. “He’s just playing for time.”

“Well, I’ll agree that that’s a possibility,” Jarnaff said. “Still, we should do things properly. Once everything’s secure.”

The air mage spoke up. He was tall and thin, with a hooked nose. “Where’s the girl?”

I was very aware of Anne behind me, hidden by the partition. “What girl?”

There was a faint rustle, and the click of metal. All of a sudden, the guns were pointing at me a lot more directly. “You really don’t want to play games, Verus,” Jarnaff said.

“We were both sent here under specific Council instructions,” I said. “Infiltrating Morden’s unit. You’ve got comms, haven’t you? Call them up, right now. Check our story. They’ll authorise it.”

Jarnaff just looked at me. So did Lightbringer and Zilean.

“You’re not going to call the Council,” I said. It wasn’t a question.

“Well, here’s the thing,” Jarnaff said. He was smiling slightly and I could tell he was enjoying himself. “The Council passed an emergency resolution delegating authority to Sal Sarque to resolve the situation at this facility by any means necessary. And I’m his representative. So as far as you’re concerned? Right now, I am the Council.”

Here’s a thing about divination: when someone hasn’t made a choice, it’s hard to see what they’re going to do. Which means that if you look into the future and you can get a good idea of what someone’s going to do, then you know that they have made a choice. Right now, I could see that Jarnaff’s men were willing to kill me without warning or hesitation. You don’t do that to someone you think might be on your side. “You’re still going to need my testimony.”

“Yeah, that was back when we still thought this whole thing might have been a fake,” Jarnaff said. “Now that Morden’s gone this far? Not so much.”

I should have expected it really. Talisid had told me that Levistus and Sal Sarque hadn’t wanted to make that deal with me. If I died, that would get them out of their obligations. “So what’s the story going to be? That I ‘resisted arrest’?”

“Oh, come on, Verus,” Jarnaff said. “We don’t want to kill you. We want to hear what you’ve got to say. I know some people who’d just love to sit you down for a chat.”

I saw Zilean’s expression change very slightly. It might have been a smile. “I think I’ve seen how you like to do those,” I said, my voice flat.

“What’s the matter?” Jarnaff said. “Feeling nervous? Why don’t you tell me some more about all those assassins you’ve faced down? You don’t seem so cocky now.”

I was silent. Jarnaff nodded to the man at his side. “Go get the girl.”

“No,” I said.

Jarnaff sighed. “Can we stop pissing around, please?”

“What do you want her for?”

“That’s not really your concern,” Jarnaff said. “Now, I’m not going to ask you again. Get out of the way.”

I stood my ground.

“Going to do this the hard way?” Jarnaff asked. He smiled. “All right.” He gestured. “Keep him alive if you can.”

Some of the mages and gunmen began to advance. Their movements were slow and careful, and they scanned the room as they moved, but I knew the caution wasn’t for me; it was for Anne. Except that Anne was unconscious, and I was out of time. I tried to think of how I was going to win this. Okay, maybe I can hold off the mages to the right, while I engage the guys on the left . . . and maybe the other four gunmen and Jarnaff and Lightbringer and Zilean will all drop dead of spontaneous heart attacks.

This wasn’t going to work.

“Wait,” I said, searching through the futures in which something I said made them stop. There wasn’t one.

The gunmen were close now, and I knew that the only reason they hadn’t fired yet was that they didn’t see me as enough of a threat. I was out of ideas. “Wait,” I said again.

Lightbringer stopped. The gunmen did too.

“Who the fuck is that?” one of the mages said.

I started to answer, then realised that they weren’t looking at me. I turned.

There was a man standing at the other side of the room, black-armoured and wearing a helmet. Archon.

“He’s not one of ours,” the air mage said.

“You,” Jarnaff said. “What are you doing here?”

The guns were split now, with only the nearest of the gunmen covering me. The others were aiming at Archon. I wondered very briefly why I hadn’t seen Archon in the futures, but the Dark mage was already speaking. “Councilman Jarnaff,” Archon said in his flat voice. “I would like to negotiate.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Jarnaff said. “Another of the raiders? The only thing you’re going to be negotiating with is the inside of a cell.”

“Here are my terms,” Archon said. “Take your men and depart. I will do the same.”

“Yeah,” Jarnaff said. “You really don’t get to give us orders.”

“It is a reasonable offer.”

One of the mages laughed. They’d been caught off balance by Archon’s appearance, but now they were recovering. “Who are you again?” Jarnaff said.

I saw what was coming and stood very still.

Archon reached up and unclasped his helmet. It seemed to take a long time. The Crusaders watched, curiosity on some faces, hostility on others. Archon pulled the helmet off to reveal his face, and when he spoke, it was in his true voice at last. “My name is Richard Drakh.”

The whole room was dead silent. I could sense the Crusaders shifting their feet, one or two of them taking a step back, but all I could do was stare at Richard, my thoughts whirling. He’d pretended to be Archon . . . ?

No. There never was an Archon. Pieces clicked into place, the way Archon had talked, how casually he’d given orders. I remembered that first night when he’d come to meet me in Wales. I’d called Richard to check who he was, and it had been Richard’s voice that had answered . . . but if you could build a voice distorter into a helmet, you could add a phone too. I didn’t know why he’d tricked everyone then, and I didn’t know why he was revealing himself now, but all of a sudden I felt a spark of hope. Maybe there was still a chance for Anne and me to get out alive.

The Light mages were hesitating. They obviously all knew who Richard was. Jarnaff recovered first. “Bullshit.”

“No,” the air mage said. “Jarnaff, it’s him.”

“Shut up,” Jarnaff said under his breath, then addressed Richard. “All right, fine. You’re Drakh. That supposed to impress us?”

“That is entirely up to you,” Richard said. “However, Verus and Miss Walker are, for the moment at least, under my protection. I must ask that you not take any hostile action against them.”

“Yeah, you’re not really in a position to be asking anything,” Jarnaff said. The Light mage seemed to be regaining his confidence. “You were with the raiders. That means you’re in violation of the Concord.”

“Really?” Richard said. “So you’d be happy with this whole incident being reported in full to the Council?” Richard shook his head. “I really don’t see any need for them to be informed of every trivial detail. Nor is it your business to clear up every straggler. You swept the facility, fought your way through to this room, and secured it. I imagine Sal Sarque will be quite pleased.”

“Know what’d make him a lot more pleased?” Jarnaff said. “If I bring in the ringleader.”

I felt the mood in the room shift. All of the guns were pointed at Richard now, though I couldn’t help but notice that not all of the Crusaders looked happy about it. Lightbringer’s face was set, but the air mage behind him looked nervous and Zilean had edged away. All of a sudden I had the feeling that if it weren’t for Jarnaff, the Crusaders would be backing down.

Even better, from my point of view, was that Anne and I seemed to have been forgotten. One of the gunmen had closed to within ten feet of me before Richard had made his appearance, and now he was caught between us, trying to watch us both at the same time. I measured distances, calculating how long it would take him to bring that gun up.

Richard faced the Light mages, his stance relaxed. If the number of men facing him bothered him, he didn’t show it. “I would advise against it.”

“Unless you’ve got a whole lot more Dark mages up your sleeve, I don’t really see what you’re going to do.”

“Councilman Jarnaff,” Richard said. “Let me make myself quite clear. I will be departing this facility with Mage Verus and Miss Walker. Your choice is whether you will be alive or dead at the time.”

“Really,” Jarnaff said with a sneer. “You’re going to single-handedly kill every one of us.”

“Not all of you,” Richard said calmly. “Somewhere between seven and ten of you. I expect Verus will account for the remainder.”

Several of the Crusaders turned to look at me and I inwardly cursed. They weren’t going to forget about me now.

Jarnaff hesitated. Just for a second, I saw the futures shift and I knew that Jarnaff wasn’t as confident as he was trying to sound. He was genuinely considering backing off on this one. But then he glanced very quickly behind him to the other mages and the other paths winked out. “Lightbringer, Maraxus,” he said. “Arrest him.”

Richard spoke again, this time addressing the two mages behind Jarnaff. “Last chance.”

The fire mage—Maraxus—hesitated, but Lightbringer didn’t. He started walking forward, his dark face level and set, hammer in one hand, shield in the other. A barrier of solid force shimmered around him, and Maraxus fell in slightly behind him, watching Richard carefully.

Everything started happening very fast.

Richard shifted slightly, and Maraxus shouted out, “Hands!” and then Richard was throwing something at Lightbringer. It impacted on the centre of Lightbringer’s shield and with a sputter of sparks both Lightbringer’s shield and force barrier vanished. Lightbringer’s hand flicked up and he made a gesture; nothing happened, and I had just time to see surprise on Lightbringer’s face before Richard shot him through the head.

The room erupted in shouts and gunfire. I was already moving, closing the distance to the nearest gunman. I caught the rifle by the barrel as he tried to bring it to bear, hit him in the face, then landed a kick which put him on the floor. Another of the gunmen saw me and turned. I sprinted for cover, bullets chipping fragments of stone from my heels, the trail of gunfire catching up with me just an instant before I dived behind the partition.

Richard was fighting on the other side of the room and I could sense battle-magic flying back and forth, but I didn’t have time to see who was winning. The man I’d knocked down was struggling to his feet and two more gunmen were moving in. I tried to snap off a shot and a volley of fire made me jerk back into cover. I glanced to the right; Anne was still lying there, unconscious. Can’t let them get too close. One was circling, trying to get a bead. A future flashed up where I could get an uninterrupted shot, and I tensed, ready. Fire magic flashed; there was a scream and I leant out, sighting. The gun was an unfamiliar one, some type of assault rifle, but I knew how to make it work and that was all that mattered. The flanking man was still looking in the direction of the scream when my burst took him through the neck.

Blades of air lashed my position, invisible and razor-sharp, curving around the pillar to strike. I jerked aside from one which would have blinded me, feeling it score a line across my cheek, then fumbled out the gold discs of one of my force walls and threw. They clattered to the floor and I called out the command word just before another cloud of razor darts came curving in, slamming into the force barrier and bouncing off. It wouldn’t stop them but it would slow them down.

Behind. I whirled to see Zilean backing away from the other side of the partition, lightning crackling around his hands. He was maybe twenty feet away from Anne, and as I watched he turned, seeing both of us.

I already had the assault rifle levelled. I fired, aiming for his chest.

A translucent shield of silver-grey formed at Zilean’s fingertips. My burst slammed into it, ricocheted. “Not this time, Verus!” Zilean shouted. There was a wild look in his eyes, but he held the shield flat towards me with one hand, electricity crackling at the other.

I’d already scanned the futures in which I fired again. I started walking towards him, keeping the gun trained.

Zilean flexed his fingers, electricity jumping in blue-white sparks. “Any closer and you die.”

I didn’t stop. “From what?” I said calmly. “If you could blast me through that shield, you’d have done it already. That’s the trouble with lightning magic. Great for hurting people, but it’s not so good on defence, is it?”

Zilean hesitated, and I knew my guess had been right. That shield he was holding was from a focus, and it wouldn’t be easy for him to hold it up while also attacking. And as long as I held the gun trained on him, he wouldn’t dare take his attention off me to blast Anne.

But then Zilean’s eyes flicked over my shoulder and without turning I knew I was surrounded. The two gunmen were working their way around the forcewall. I hadn’t been able to get it all the way across the room, and in only a few seconds they’d reach the edge.

“You know, you hurt me that last time,” Zilean said. He sounded more confident now, and I knew he was trying to keep me talking. “Took them a long time to fix me up.”

“Sounds like your life mages are a lot worse than Anne.”

Behind me, the gunmen cleared the wall. I shifted, placing myself between them and Zilean so that if they fired, they’d risk hitting each other. “Who?” Zilean said. “Oh. Was that her name?”

A bolt of fury spiked through me and my finger trembled as I fought the urge to shoot. Have to think. On the other side of the partition the battle was still raging, but I knew I wouldn’t be getting any help. I looked at the shield with my magesight, recognising the pattern. It was a basic kinetic barrier. But it’s not anchored, is it? Not to anything except his hand . . .

“You know, she took a long time to start screaming.” Zilean was smiling; he knew he only needed to keep me busy for a few more seconds. “It wasn’t until I put the scalpel in—”

“Hey, Zilean,” I said. I was close enough now to make out the lines on his face. “What’s the energy limit on that shield?”

“More than anything you’ve got.”

“Good,” I said, and charged. I had an instant to see Zilean’s eyes go wide before I rammed the shield shoulder-first.

No matter how powerful you make a shield, you can’t get around basic conservation of energy. If something hits a shield, then most of that energy’s going to go into whoever’s holding it. Against bullets this isn’t a problem, because the shield spreads the impact. That means all the wielder has do is absorb the momentum, and there’s only so much momentum a quarter-ounce bullet can carry.

Absorbing the momentum of a 170-pound body is a little harder.

Zilean stumbled and tripped, the shield dissipating as I fell right on top of the Light mage. We scrambled on the floor, me trying to bring the gun to bear and Zilean desperately trying to fend me off, and I was just about to get him when a future flashed through my mind of bullets ripping through me. I dropped flat; the bullets whistled overhead, and the instant’s distraction was enough for Zilean to catch the barrel of my rifle and send a shock through it which numbed my hand.

Conventional wisdom is that grappling with elemental mages is a bad idea, but I’d fought Zilean twice now, and I knew he didn’t have much stomach for up-close-and-personal fights. He could have tried to blast me, but instead the future filled with electrical light and I knew he was about to use his lightning jump to escape.

I hit Zilean across the jaw. The angle was weak, but it was strong enough to stun him and the futures in which he cast his spell winked out. I hooked an arm around his neck and dragged us both upright.

The two gunmen had closed to less than thirty feet away. Both of them had their rifles levelled and they’d been about to shoot, but I was holding Zilean pressed against me, the crook of my elbow crushing his throat, and they hesitated. Zilean clawed at my arm. Electricity sparked at his fingers, but it sank into my armour and Zilean was too dazed to manage a more powerful spell. “Don’t shoot!” he choked out. “Wait!”

I kept my grip with my left arm while my right hand reached behind my back to my holster. “Tell them to drop their guns,” I said into Zilean’s ear.

“Do as he says!” Zilean shouted, a note of panic in his voice.

The gunmen stared at us with is he serious? expressions, and I knew they were trying to figure out what to do. As Zilean opened his mouth to give another order, I drew my 1911 and shot him in the back.

Zilean jerked. The gunmen’s futures forked crazily as they tried to decide whether they’d be in more trouble by shooting or by holding off. Before they could make up their minds, I brought the gun up over Zilean’s shoulder and shot one through the head. The other turned and ran and I shifted my aim, missing two bullets before the third caught him in the small of the back and sent him tumbling to the stone.

Electricity burst blue-white, making my limbs spasm. I staggered back, losing my grip on Zilean as the lightning mage tried to run, but his legs didn’t seem to be working right and he stumbled and fell. Zilean pulled himself to his knees, readying another lightning bolt, then his eyes went wide and he screamed.

My gun was levelled on Zilean’s forehead, while his hand pointed uselessly down at the floor. “Go ahead,” I said. Dots swam before my eyes, but Arachne’s armour had absorbed the worst of the charge and my hands were steady. “Try it.”

Zilean didn’t try it. He opened his hand and the lightning bolt dissipated. “Wait,” he said. “Don’t shoot. I’m bleeding.”

I looked down at Zilean.

“We can—” Zilean swallowed. There was sweat on his brow and blood leaking from his belly; I knew the gut wound had to be agonising, but his eyes were locked to the muzzle of the gun. “We can get you a pardon. A few security men—that doesn’t matter. Just get me to a . . .”

“To a healer?” I said quietly. I didn’t look at Anne, lying only twenty feet away. “Like her?”

Zilean’s face was white. “Look, Verus, you have to understand . . . it was just a job. It wasn’t personal.”

“It was personal to me,” I said, and Zilean’s eyes had just enough time to go wide before I fired.

Blood and bits of skull flew. Zilean dropped bonelessly, lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling. I stared coldly down at the body, then walked over and picked up the rifle I’d dropped, checking the magazine. Then I ran for the edge of the partition.

There weren’t many people still fighting. Richard was still taking on the rest of the Crusader force by himself, and incredibly, he seemed to be winning. I could see at least three bodies lying still, and Richard was engaged in a furious long-range duel with Jarnaff, while the air mage rained missiles down upon him from above.

It’s rare to see a master mage fight. For the most part, they don’t need to—very few people in the magical world will go up against one willingly, not if they know who they are. When master mages do oppose each other, their conflicts are usually political rather than physical, and if one starts losing they usually have plenty of time to withdraw. In all my life, I’ve seen maybe half a dozen master mages in actual combat, and every time I have, it’s stuck in my memory. Each has their own style, their own way of moving and engaging. Vihaela is like a dancer, darting and graceful. Landis is the only Light mage I’ve seen who can match her; he’s not as fast, but his technique is so perfect he doesn’t need to be. Morden almost doesn’t fight at all; he just overwhelms opponents with single crushing attacks which end the battle before it ever really starts.

Watching Richard in action was different from any of them.

It wasn’t that he was especially fast. He was quick, but not as quick as an air mage and with nothing like the eye-blurring speed of Vihaela. Nor was it that his weapons seemed especially powerful. He held a pistol in one hand and there was a flickering black shield around him radiating that strange untyped magic that I’d seen him use as Archon, but I could measure its power and it wasn’t all that much stronger than my own armour. The spells Jarnaff and the other mage were throwing at Richard had enough strength to cut right through his shield if they ever struck it squarely, yet somehow, no matter how quick the force lance or how well-aimed the air blade, Richard was never quite there when it landed. He moved and fired in a measured, unhurried sort of way, as though it was a shooting range, and one by one, the men facing him died.

One of the remaining gunmen went down to a bullet and the other scrambled away, searching for cover. The air mage sent another flurry of blades which darted out to surround Richard in a star pattern and converge. There was no possible angle to dodge, but somehow in the second it had taken the air mage to prepare the spell, Richard had changed his shield. The black screen caught the blades, whirled them around, and spat them out at Jarnaff like a shotgun blast. Jarnaff staggered back and while he was distracted, Richard lifted a hand towards the air mage and four black threads leapt out.

The air mage had his shield ready. The threads weren’t powerful enough to break it, but just as they struck, I realised they weren’t all the same. Each had a different type of countermagic woven into it, so that no single shield would stop them all. The air mage managed to block two of the threads and slow down the third, but the fourth went through the shield as though it wasn’t there. Blood sprayed and the air mage spun from the sky.

Richard turned back towards Jarnaff, killing the last gunman with an almost absentminded gunshot, and all of a sudden he and Jarnaff were the only ones still standing. “Stay back!” Jarnaff shouted, backing away.

Richard walked towards him, his expression calm. “I gave you a chance.”

Jarnaff’s eyes darted left and right, settling on the exit that he’d come in by. He put one hand to his ear, talking loudly and urgently. “Control, we need reinforcements. Bring them in, all of them!”

“I’m sorry, Jarnaff,” Richard said. “I really would have preferred to do this peacefully.”

“You’re fucked,” Jarnaff snarled. He lifted a hand, focusing his shield and layering it, drawing power from the rear to fortify the front. The two layers became three, then four, obscuring his face. He’d obviously seen what had happened to the air mage. “You’re never getting out.”

I still held the rifle in my hands. Both Richard and Jarnaff were focused on each other. I lifted the gun, aimed it between them, hesitated. Which one?

“You hear me?” Jarnaff said. “We’ll bring in mages until—”

Richard cast a spell. A thin lance of black light darted not from his hand but from behind Jarnaff. It struck Jarnaff’s weaker rear shielding, pierced it, and punched a neat, small hole right through the centre of Jarnaff’s chest.

Jarnaff staggered. He stared at Richard as though surprised, then sank to the ground. The shield winked out.

“I heard,” Richard said to the body. He glanced back at me. “Have you decided whether to pull that trigger yet?”

“I’m still deciding,” I told him. I didn’t lower the gun.

Richard walked across the vault and past me. I traversed the weapon, tracking him. Looking into the futures in which I fired, I saw the bullets spark off, and it suddenly occurred to me that I was trying to threaten him with exactly the same weapon that those dead gunmen had been shooting him with . . .

So many dead men. It hit me that we were literally surrounded by bodies. Zilean was lying just a little way away, sightless eyes staring up at the ceiling, and the two gunmen I’d shot were sprawled farther back. The half of the room nearer to the exit was littered with the corpses of the Crusaders who’d attacked Richard. The air mage lay in a pool of blood, Jarnaff was crumpled in the corner, and the bodies of every other member of the strike team were scattered in a gruesome pattern. Blood and bodies everywhere, and looking at them made me dizzy. Richard and I hadn’t really killed a whole Crusader strike team, had we? I wasn’t supposed to be a battle-mage. How had this happened?

I suddenly realised that Richard was kneeling next to Anne. “Get away from her,” I said sharply.

“She’s quite unharmed,” Richard said, and rose, slipping one hand into his pocket. “But I wouldn’t suggest waiting around.”

“You’d rather we go with you?” I said harshly.

“Unless you’d prefer to stay here and explain the situation to the Council.”

I stared after Richard, but he didn’t look back. He’d walked to the same area where Vihaela and the Dark mages had disappeared and was studying the alcove. “Mind telling me how we’re going to leave?” I said. “Because whatever Vihaela’s lot used to gate out, they took it with them.”

Richard didn’t turn around. “Carry her, please.”

I looked—again—into the future where I fired on Richard. Same result. I slung the rifle and picked Anne up in both arms. Her head leant against my chest and I started to walk over. “I don’t know what you think you’re going to accomplish,” I said. “Maybe you didn’t notice, but the gate wards on this place are—”

A gate opened in front of Richard’s hand.

I stopped dead. “How the hell . . . ?”

“Not the time, Alex.” Richard stepped through the gateway.

I hesitated for only a second. Whatever was through the gateway, I didn’t think it could be worse than here. I stepped through.

I came down onto firm grass. The air was cool, and stars shone down above the dark shapes of trees; we were somewhere out in the country. I knelt, setting Anne down carefully on the grass, and as Richard let the gate close behind us I saw that he’d dropped his shield.

I moved without thought. Richard didn’t quite react in time, and looking back on it, I think I must have caught him by surprise. My fist landed hard enough to make him stagger, and he half-blocked the second punch as I moved in.

Then the futures flickered and slid away. My third strike hit nothing but air, and something slammed into my jaw, stunning me. I hit the ground and rolled, scrambling to my feet.

Richard was standing ten feet away. “Are you finished?”

I tensed, ready to move.

“Don’t,” Richard said. His voice was hard, and all of a sudden I realised that he had his gun out.

I stood very still. Richard was aiming at my midsection, and from looking into the futures I knew he wasn’t bluffing, but it was very, very hard to keep myself from going for him anyway. “You planned this,” I said, and my voice shook with anger.

“If I hadn’t stepped in, you and your companion would either be dead or screaming your lungs out in a torture chamber,” Richard said. “I appreciate that you don’t work for me willingly, but this ingratitude is becoming tiresome.”

“Ingratitude . . . ?” Red rage filled me. Only the certainty that Richard would shoot the instant I moved held me back. “You set this up. You and Vihaela. All so that Anne would pick up that relic.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because matters with the Council are coming to a head.”

“She had nothing to do with the Council!” I shouted. “The only reason she’s even here is because of me, and now she’s in deeper! Was this all just some fucked-up game? To make sure that this time I wouldn’t run away?”

Richard gave me a curious look. “Alex, I don’t think you quite understand. She isn’t here because of you. You’re here because of her.”

“You wanted someone who could bond with a jinn to be a pawn in your power games,” I said savagely. “Except you didn’t have one, did you? Because the only people who work for you willingly are psychopaths like Vihaela. So you had to force someone into it who wasn’t willing.”

Richard shrugged. “Reasonably accurate, allowing for your personal bias.”

“Then why her?” I shouted. “You wanted someone to fuck with some more, why her and not me?”

“Because you said no.”

“When?”

“Two and a half years ago, in Sagash’s shadow realm.”

I stopped dead. I remembered that meeting. It had been the first time I’d seen Richard since his disappearance, more than a decade before. “You didn’t tell me . . .”

Richard sighed. “No, Alex, for reasons that should be obvious, I did not give you a detailed breakdown of my plans involving the jinn and the Council. If you had agreed to my offer, you would have received further information in due course. You did not.”

I hadn’t been alone in Sagash’s shadow realm. And Richard had made that offer to two people, not one . . . “Anne,” I breathed. “You had your eye on her from the beginning.”

“I did tell you that not everything was about you,” Richard said. “You really should pay attention. In any case, Anne also rejected my offer, but she did so under your influence. I judged that left to her own devices, she would have said yes. I think subsequent events have proven me correct on that score. Jinn do not contract with an unwilling agent.” He nodded down at where Anne lay. “She will be an excellent host.”

I lunged.

The gun barked and a tiny, stinging pain flashed through my ear. Richard had aimed it precisely enough to just clip the skin. “Last warning, Alex,” Richard said. His eyes were cold and set. “I won’t kill you unless I have to, but you’d be amazed what a person can live through.”

I held still.

“Take care of her,” Richard said, and backed away. His eyes and the gun stayed locked on me until the night swallowed him.

I stared after Richard for a long time, then looked down at Anne. Something about those last words sent a chill through me. The unspoken message had been: until I come back.

A cold wind eddied across the hilltop, making me shiver. The starlight shone down from above, Anne’s face a pale shape against the grass.