Burned

16

Once dinner was over, I moved to my bedroom, shut the door, found a comfortable spot on the bed and closed my eyes, looking through the futures to see what would happen if we stayed here in this house and did nothing. Once I’d confirmed that we were safe in the short term, I extended and broadened my search, looking further and further, wider and wider, always on the alert for the patterns that signified danger. Nothing materialised, but I kept looking. You can never be sure that you’ve caught all the potential dangers with divination, in the same way that you can’t prove a negative. All you can do is slice the probability of being wrong as thin as you can, shaving it down until the futures thread away to nothing, at which point you go back to the beginning and start again.

This is what diviners do when they want to keep themselves safe. And it works, more or less. You can’t ever reach one hundred per cent, but you can get close enough that your chance of dying is so small that writing it down would require scientific notation. Diviners have a reputation for being impossible to kill, and while that’s exaggerated, there’s some truth to it. As long as I kept doing this, there was no realistic way that Levistus or his men could pin me down. Long before they’d got a fix on either of us, I’d have seen them coming and moved away.

The problem was that I couldn’t really do anything else. While I was doing this, I couldn’t spend too much time interacting with other people, as it would introduce too much unpredictability. I couldn’t be near crowds, or get in touch with friends, or do anything that would draw attention to myself. Sure, I was safe … as long as I lived like a paranoid hermit. And if that sounds like a good deal, then try it for a few years and see if it doesn’t change your mind.

I’d been at it for about half an hour when something caught my eye. There was a swirl of activity revolving around a set of futures close to midnight – it wasn’t completely settled, but it was definitely going to happen and it was firming as I watched. No immediate danger, which was why I hadn’t noticed it on the earlier scans, but … yes, definitely hostile. I spent another ten minutes thoroughly checking it out before walking into the living room. ‘Trouble.’

Anne had been sitting on one of the chairs, drawing in a notebook. As I spoke she looked up, then nodded and closed her book. ‘Time to go?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Maybe?’

‘They’re going to phone us.’

‘That seems very polite of them.’

‘Yeah. “Hello, Mr Verus, we’re just calling to inform you that we’ll be killing you later tonight.”’

‘So what are they going to say?’ Anne asked curiously. ‘It’s them, right?’

‘Couldn’t get a clear look, but I think they’re saying they want to make a deal.’

Anne’s eyebrows went up into her hairline. ‘You believe that?’

‘Hell no.’

‘Just wanted to make sure.’

‘There’s no way they’re willing to talk terms this fast,’ I said. ‘The number they’ve got is from one of our burner phones we picked up in Argentina. Best guess is they’re hoping to keep us on the line long enough to get a trace.’

‘So…’ Anne said. ‘Leave the phone and move on?’

‘By the time they call, we’ll have our bags packed and the gate stone spun up. Looks like you don’t need to bother washing those dishes.’

Anne shrugged. ‘We might as well leave the place tidy.’

It didn’t take long to pack. Most of our possessions had been winnowed away, lost to raids or to necessity, and both of us were down to a single suitcase each. ‘You’re kind of letting down the stereotypes for your gender,’ I told Anne. ‘You should have three suitcases worth of clothes and shoes.’

Anne smiled, but it faded quickly. She looked at the phone, lying alone on the table. ‘Is it even worth answering?’

‘I did think about ignoring it,’ I admitted. ‘But there’s always the chance they’ll let something slip. We’re really starved for information.’

‘That’s probably what they’re counting on.’

‘Just keep the gate stone ready. I can’t see any way they could spring anything, but no point taking chances.’

Anne nodded, taking out the small river pebble that marked our next destination. We waited. ‘Where’s our next stop?’ Anne asked after a little while.

‘China.’

‘Do we have to go back north? I was enjoying the summer.’

‘It’s Yunnan province. Should be one of the warmer ones.’

‘I’d still prefer Mauritius.’ Anne glanced at the phone. ‘They’re taking their time.’

‘Keeps shifting.’ I could sense the futures in which the call was made jumping around, going from seconds ahead to as far as five or ten minutes. I wondered why there was so much variation. Maybe they were setting up some equipment. I checked again to confirm that they couldn’t stop us gating out, and as I did the futures narrowed. ‘Here we go.’

The phone rang, then rang again. I waited. Ten rings, fifteen.

‘Are you just deliberately annoying them?’ Anne asked when I didn’t answer.

‘Pretty much.’

Anne gave me a look. ‘Okay, okay,’ I said. I picked up the phone and thumbed the green button. ‘Hi.’

‘Mage Verus.’ The voice was calm and polite.

‘And you must be Barrayar,’ I said. I’d only met the guy a couple of times, but I had a good mental picture of him. Slim, a little shorter than average, expensive suit, pleasant expression that revealed nothing of what he was thinking. From what I’d seen, he seemed to function as Levistus’s primary assistant. ‘How can I help you?’

‘We were hoping you might spare us a few minutes.’

‘Sure, why not?’ I looked ahead to check that Anne and I could escape if need be. ‘What sort of things were you planning to discuss? Arsenal’s chances in the premier league?’

‘Something a little more to the point. We’d like to—’

‘“We”, right. Sorry to interrupt, but just to check, do you actually have any authority to make any deals? Or tell me anything? Because if you’re going to need to run everything by Levistus, then it’s really kind of a waste of time me talking to you.’

‘I’m afraid the person I’m representing values his privacy,’ Barrayar said. ‘However, he has given me full authority to negotiate in his place.’

‘In other words, Levistus doesn’t want his name or voice going out on an open call.’

There was a slight pause. ‘Verus— do you mind if I call you Verus?’

‘Go right ahead.’

‘Having had some time to consider, both I and the people I represent feel that the current situation is … unproductive. This chasing you around from one country to another isn’t achieving anything.’

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘Demonstrating that you can’t catch me seems pretty useful from my point of view.’

‘Yes,’ Barrayar said. ‘You have demonstrated that. And the message has been received. With this in mind, I’d like to negotiate.’

‘Really.’

‘I’d like to believe that we can come to an equitable solution that satisfies all parties.’

‘Somehow I doubt that.’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Barrayar said. ‘We can be quite persuasive. I’d like to show you something, if you don’t mind. I’m sending you a web address.’

The phone buzzed as the text message came through. I studied it. ‘So you’d like me to load this up?’

‘If you don’t mind.’

‘Sure. Just give me a second.’

I checked our escape route again, then pulled my laptop out from my bag. Anne gave me a quizzical look, and I made a reassuring gesture. I put the laptop down, opened a browser and typed the address in, checking to make sure I got each letter right. Once I was done, I looked into the future in which I hit the return key. I could just have path-walked without moving at all, but it was easier to do a few of the physical steps first. ‘Looks like a video link,’ I said into the phone.

‘It is,’ Barrayar said. ‘Shall I give you the encryption code?’

‘I wouldn’t bother,’ I said. ‘Given that there’s no way in hell I’m visiting it. Honestly, Barrayar, how stupid do you think I am?’

‘I can understand why you would be suspicious,’ Barrayar said. ‘But I can assure you there are no traps. No viruses, no tracer programmes. Just a simple video feed.’

‘Sure. I’ll just take your word for it, shall I?’ I shook my head. This is going nowhere. I signalled to Anne, who nodded and took out the gate stone.

‘The code is 8YST57,’ Barrayar said. ‘Why don’t you divine it?’

I paused, my hand on the laptop screen. Examining the content via my divination would be safe … entirely safe, and that made me suspicious. Maybe he was hoping to lure me in?

‘It’s not case-sensitive, if that’s what you’re wondering.’

Curiosity won out. I looked into the future in which I navigated to the website and entered the code. My future self found himself looking at a video feed. The scene was a night-time city, although you couldn’t see much of it – the camera seemed to be focused on a block of flats. Something about them looked familiar. I’d been there before. Now where was—?

I stopped dead. My hand froze on the phone as I stared into the future, my heart speeding up.

Anne looked up. She’d been starting the preparations to open the gate, green light beginning to gather at her hand, but now she focused on me, frowning. What’s wrong? she mouthed silently.

I reached for the keyboard, hit return, then typed in the code when I was prompted, only half aware of what I was doing. The video feed paused as it loaded, then came up on the screen. The image it showed was dark, in moderately poor resolution but quite watchable. It showed the rear side of a small block of flats, the bottom corner obscured by a tree. It was night-time and orange light reflected up from the street below. The block of flats was four stories high. Lights were on in the ground and first floors, but the two above were dark. The camera was focused on the top floor.

The vision wasn’t great, but it was enough for me to recognise the location. The block of flats was in Crouch End, in London. The flat the camera was trained upon was Luna’s.

‘Ah,’ Barrayar said through the phone. ‘Apparently we have one viewer. I’m going to assume that’s you. Just hold on a moment and I’ll get them to zoom in.’

I kept staring at the screen. Anne looked at me, then at the display, obviously confused. I felt the moment where she understood; out of the corner of my eye I saw her put her hands to her mouth. My eyes were locked to the computer.

On the screen, the view from the video feed magnified, zooming in. There was something on the wall of Luna’s flat, a darkish patch next to and slightly beneath one of the windows. ‘Hello, Verus?’ Barrayar said. ‘Have you got a good view? Sorry if the quality isn’t too good, but our men on the ground aren’t exactly professional cameramen.’

I didn’t answer.

‘The packs you can see mounted on that wall are made of black webbing.’ Barrayar’s voice was friendly, conversational. ‘Inside they contain a quantity of C4 explosive. The man setting it up gave me the details about the exact effects of the detonation, something about kilojoules and effective blast radius, but I have to admit, it went over my head. I’m not really an expert on the subject.’ Barrayar paused. ‘What I do know is that your apprentice, Luna Mancuso – actually, come to think of it, she isn’t your apprentice any more, is she? Well, either way, her bedroom is on the other side of that wall. She’s sleeping quite peacefully. At least for the moment.’

Anne looked at the video, then at me, her eyes wide. I couldn’t think of anything to say.

Barrayar was still talking. ‘There are some additional charges too. Apparently our demolitionist was concerned that that curse of hers might interfere with the detonation process, so he went for the redundant approach. To be perfectly honest, it strikes me as overkill, but I’ve always believed that there’s no point in hiring a professional if you aren’t going to listen to his advice.’

I found my voice. ‘What do you want?’

‘I want you,’ Barrayar said. ‘I’m going to be very clear, so that there is no chance for confusion. It is currently 12.21 a.m. The explosives around that flat are armed, but not detonated. They will remain undetonated until exactly 2 a.m. GMT. That’s one hour, thirty-nine minutes from now. When the second hand ticks over to two o’clock, I will press the button in front of me and Luna Mancuso will go from being the most recently promoted mage in Britain to the most recently deceased. Unless you come here.’

‘You can’t do that.’ It was a stupid thing to say, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. ‘The Concord.’

‘An inconvenience.’

‘Luna isn’t part of this. You’ve got no quarrel with her.’

‘I agree,’ Barrayar said. ‘And though I doubt you will appreciate it, I really do not take any pleasure in doing this. Quite honestly, your former apprentice is exactly the kind of mage we would like to have more of. But sacrifices must be made, and unfortunately we want you more than we want her.’

‘I can’t make it back to London that—’

‘Verus, please don’t insult my intelligence. I do not believe for a moment that you can’t get yourself from your current location to here in … let’s see … one hour, thirty-seven minutes.’

‘I need more time.’

‘You have until 2 a.m. Make the most of it. Goodbye, Verus. I imagine I’ll be seeing you soon.’

‘Wait—’

There was a click and the line went dead. I lowered the phone, staring at the screen.

It was a little over a quarter of an hour later.

‘Okay, forget the bomb,’ Anne said. She was pacing up and down the room. ‘What if we go for the guy with the detonator?’

‘That’s going to be Barrayar,’ I said. ‘And who says there’s only one?’

‘If I can get close enough—’

‘If you get close enough, you could stop him pushing that button. But there is no way they are going to let you walk up to touch range.’

‘How many of them are there?’

‘Enough that every future in which I saw that I went there, I was blown up before I got into range.’

‘But they went for you? They didn’t set off that bomb?’

‘Why would they?’ I said. ‘It’s me they’re after. Luna’s a Council mage now. If they kill her, it’ll start an investigation.’

‘So maybe they’re bluffing?’

I shook my head. ‘They’re not bluffing.’ I’d looked at the futures of what happened if we stayed.

Anne stopped pacing and put her hand to her forehead. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Okay. What if we use our emergency alarm? Ring Luna’s phone. If she wakes up in time…’

‘I already tried,’ I said. ‘The call’s not getting through. Either a jammer or they’ve shut down her number.’

‘We could—’

‘It’s not going to work,’ I said. I was still sitting in the same chair, the computer on the table, my suitcase opened and forgotten on the floor. ‘They’ve had too long to set this up.’

Anne looked at me. ‘Then what do we do?’

I stared down at the carpet, then smiled suddenly. ‘Helikaon was right.’

‘What?’

‘I thought he was just making a point,’ I said. ‘He wasn’t. He saw this coming.’ I looked up at Anne. ‘The only way I can keep hiding and keep running is if I’m willing to let Luna and anyone else they target die.’

Anne looked back at me with a strange expression on her face. ‘Are you going to?’

I stared into space. It’s funny how the most important decisions in your life can go so fast. It only took me a few seconds to know what the answer was … but really, it was something I’d decided a long time ago. I wasn’t going to take Richard’s path, and I wasn’t going to take Helikaon’s either. ‘No.’

Anne relaxed slightly. ‘So we fight?’

I rose to my feet. ‘Except for the “we” part.’

‘Oh no,’ Anne said. ‘You are not telling me to stay behind on this one.’

‘It’s me they’re after. There’s no reason—’

‘No reason?’ Anne said. There was an edge to her voice. ‘Are you serious? You know what I can do. If you are going to have any chance of winning this, you’ll need me.’

‘I don’t want you to get killed because of me.’

‘And you think I want to sit here and watch?’ Anne looked at me, her eyes challenging. ‘How do you think I’d feel if you don’t come back?’

‘I can’t—’

‘No,’ Anne said. ‘I’m not letting you leave me behind. And you can’t make me.’

I hesitated, looking at Anne. Her expression was set, and as I looked at the futures I realised that she wasn’t going to be swayed, not on this. ‘All right.’

We gated back to England. The park was silent and deserted. I didn’t have a gate stone for where we were going, and we had to make do through mundane means.

The building was in Bromley-by-Bow, and it was a wreck. Five stories of shattered windows and defaced walls rose up out of an urban wasteland, scrubby weeds growing through cracked concrete and around two smaller ruined buildings nearby. Above us, traffic rumbled north and south along a raised A-road, but the area below was dark and empty. To the right were the tracks of a tube line.

‘You’re going to fight them here?’ Anne said quietly.

‘No bystanders,’ I said. The stairs leading up into the building were half blocked by a broken door, and I picked my way around it as I climbed them. The last time I’d visited the place, there had been a few homeless people living on the upper floors, but they were gone now.

The inside of the old offices looked like it had been bombed out and left to rot. Debris hung from the ceiling, and rubble and shards of glass were scattered across the floors. The furniture had been stolen or smashed, and the stair-rails and wiring had been ripped out and taken away. Graffiti covered the walls; a monstrous head with jagged teeth leered at me, the spray paint just barely visible in the light coming through the broken window frames. The place smelled of decay and old urine. Anne wrinkled her nose as she looked around – to her heightened senses, this place was probably even more unpleasant than it was to me – but she didn’t complain.

I set the bag down on the floor and unzipped it. The razor wire glinted faintly in the light. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Tripwires in each of the corridors, hidden as well as you can. If you have any left over, use it on the stairs. I’ll be up on the third floor.’

Anne nodded and took the bag, disappearing into the darkness.

The wrecked building would have been dangerous for most people, but my divination let me know where to step. Up on the third floor was a windowless closet, and half buried in rubble at the back was a metal chest. I felt around in the darkness until I found the combination lock that chained it closed, flipped it to its right setting, then levered open the lid.

Inside was a stack of dark green items, rectangular and slightly curved so as to form a convex shape. Each was about a foot long, with caps on the top. The outer casing was plastic, and embossed on the front were the words FRONT TOWARDS ENEMY. Two coils of wire sat beneath them, along with some tools. I stayed there for thirty seconds, staring down at them, then shook my head and checked my phone. Fifty-five minutes left.

Anne came up to find me just as I was setting the last one. ‘The entrances are all covered,’ she said as she walked into the room. ‘And I put a double set in the main corridor.’

I unwound another strip of duct tape, nipping it off before turning to wind it around the pillar. ‘Stairs?’

‘Ground floor and first floor. I don’t know how well they’ll stay in. There wasn’t much to attach them to.’

‘They only need to work once.’

Anne looked around. The green plastic items were mounted at various places around the room, concealed behind debris and joined with wire. ‘Are those …?’

‘Barrayar isn’t the only one who can use explosives,’ I said. I placed a last strip of tape and straightened. ‘There.’

Anne eyed the mines warily. Tucked away in the corners and against the walls, they didn’t look like much, but appearances are deceptive. Each of those mines contained hundreds of tiny steel balls, and when detonated, the explosion would hurl the spheres outwards in a sixty-degree spray at thousands of miles per hour. One mine could easily kill every living thing in a room. I’d set eight. ‘Are they safe?’

‘Until I hit the detonator. Then they’re very unsafe.’ I checked my phone. Thirty-one minutes. ‘Ready?’

‘Wait,’ Anne said. ‘What’s the plan?’

‘That’s going to depend on whether they play along.’

‘You’re going to try to draw them in and blow them up,’ Anne asked. ‘Isn’t that going to catch us too?’

I shook my head. ‘No.’

‘But how—?’

‘Anne, I’m sorry, but we’re short on time. I’ll explain in a minute.’

Anne hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. Her expression said clearly that she hoped I knew what I was doing.

I took out my phone and dialled Barrayar’s number. I stood in the darkness of the derelict building, Anne a shadow to my left. Through the empty windows, I could hear the traffic passing by. The phone rang and rang … then clicked. ‘Verus,’ Barrayar said in greeting. ‘Good timing. Exactly thirty minutes left.’

‘Yeah, you can stop your clock. I’m here.’

‘I don’t see you.’

‘I’m in Trad House, just east of the A12, next to Bromley-by-Bow station. Come get me.’

‘I want you here. Not—’

‘You wanted me. You’ve got me. But I’m not walking into your trap for you. Now, do I need to tell you the address again, or did you get it the first time?’

Barrayar was silent. I knew what was going through his head. He could kill Luna … but that wouldn’t get him what he wanted. ‘All right, Verus,’ Barrayar said. ‘We’ll play it your way. But your time limit is still running. If we reach the address and you’re not there…’

‘I’ll be there,’ I said. ‘Get moving.’ I hung up.

Anne was watching me, her features shadowed in the darkness. ‘That was—’

‘Not as dangerous as you think,’ I said. ‘It’s me he wants, not Luna.’ I took out a gate stone and started working on the spell. ‘Come on. We need one last thing.’

The gate opened into bright light, revealing a simply furnished room with a bed, a TV and a table. The curtains were drawn but the small amount of sunlight leaking through was still enough to make us both shield our eyes, adapted to the darkness. I stepped through, coming down into warm, dry air, then turned and beckoned to Anne. ‘Come on.’

Anne followed me through. ‘Where are we?’

‘Melbourne.’ I watched Anne as she looked around. Her hair brushed her shoulders as she turned her neck, those odd reddish-brown eyes searching the room. The sunlight filtering through the curtains lit up her skin, banishing most of the shadows from the gate behind. She really is beautiful. I tried to fix the image in my memory, standing there and taking it in.

When I didn’t speak, Anne looked at me. ‘Alex?’

I shook my head. ‘It’s a hotel. We need that bag from the other side of the bed.’

‘Luna is still—’

‘I know,’ I said. On impulse, I reached up and touched Anne’s face, drawing a finger down her cheek and along the line of her chin. Her skin felt soft and clean, and I could smell her scent. It made me think of flowers.

Anne stood still, looking back at me. She’d caught her breath when I’d touched her, but she hadn’t pulled back. She almost seemed to be waiting for something.

‘Hurry,’ I said. I hadn’t let go of the spell, and the gate back into London was still hanging to my left. ‘I can’t hold the gate open for long.’

Anne hesitated but obeyed. She walked around the bed and was just reaching down for the bag when I stepped back through the gate. Anne whirled instantly, sudden realisation flashing in her eyes, but before she could move I let the spell go. The gate winked out, and I was in pitch darkness again. The portal was gone, and Anne with it.

I sank down to my knees. All of a sudden I felt very tired; the energy had gone out of my limbs and I didn’t want to move. My phone rang, first once, then again and again. I didn’t want to answer it. For some reason, I did anyway.

‘Alex!’ Anne was as furious as I’d ever heard her. ‘You tricked me, you bastard!’

‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t you dare leave me behind!’ Anne’s voice vibrated through the phone. ‘You’re not doing this on your own. Not again!’

‘You don’t have a choice,’ I said. ‘There are gate stones in that bag, but they won’t get you here. Not in time.’

‘And what, you think you’re going to win this on your own? All those times you told me that I was more powerful than you – were you lying all that time?’

‘I wasn’t.’

‘Then why are you doing this?’ Anne’s voice was pleading.

‘Because I’m not going to win.’

‘What—’ Anne said, then stopped.

‘It was never on the cards, Anne.’ Wearily I straightened, looking ahead into the futures. Barrayar’s men would be here in a few minutes. ‘Too many of them, too few of us. From the minute Barrayar made that phone call, there were only three ways this could go. In the first, Luna died. In the second, you and I died. I took the third choice.’

‘Don’t do this,’ Anne said quietly. ‘Please. There has to be another way.’

‘I’ve always had a feeling this would catch me up sooner or later. Didn’t know how many of you would be caught up in it too. Vari’s okay. Luna’s okay. Sorry I couldn’t do more for you. Tell Luna…’ I took a breath. ‘Sorry I missed her graduation. Would have liked to see her as a mage.’

‘Alex—’ Anne’s voice broke.

‘Goodbye, Anne.’ I hung up, then leaned against the wall, sagging. That was harder than I expected.

I stood alone in the dark, waiting. In the distance, the sounds of the city ebbed and flowed, but here, in the ruined offices, everything was quiet.

I’ve thought about my death. I think most people who go in for my sort of lifestyle do. I’ve read a few writers who claim that no one can ever really believe in their future demise (apparently they think everyone in the world is secretly delusional enough to believe they’ll live for ever, or something), but frankly, it’s bullshit. The truth is that once you make a habit of getting into danger on a regular or semi-regular basis, then it doesn’t take long for it to sink in that you have a finite life expectancy, and that goes triple when you’re a diviner and you can actually see yourself die over and over again.

You can never completely rule out an accident. It wouldn’t take much – a bullet slipping past my precognition, a fireball when I was just a little off guard. But I’d always had the feeling that it was more likely to be something on purpose. I’ve made a lot of enemies over the years, too many for any one mage to handle alone. Just as Arachne had said, the problem was my independence. Too many foes, not enough friends.

So I’d had time to think about what I was going to do in this sort of situation. Not exactly this situation; I hadn’t seen the threat to Luna, though with hindsight I probably should have. Maybe if my preparations had been better, I could have avoided it … but then again, maybe not. I’d considered outcomes in which I fought, and others in which I didn’t. I’d made plans to run if I had to. But one thing I’d decided for sure: I wouldn’t sacrifice Luna or Variam or Anne. In the end, all of this was about paying for old mistakes, and the mistakes were mine, not theirs. What goes around comes around, and I’ve taken enough lives in my time. Maybe it was my turn.

I felt a flash of gate magic, followed by another. Finally. I moved down the hallway, navigating in the pitch-darkness, feeling rubble crunch under my feet. Path-walks located Anne’s tripwires, and while I was at it I double-checked the weapons I’d hidden. Just because I was going to die here, I didn’t see any reason to make things easy for them.

Five minutes passed, then ten. I could feel movement outside. The sky was overcast, showing neither moon nor stars, and the wasteland outside the building was an expanse of darkness. I kept moving, slipping from hall to hall.

My phone rang and I picked it up. ‘Are you going to sit out there all day?’

‘I was about to ask you a similar question.’ Barrayar’s voice was smooth. ‘Is there any way I can motivate you to come out?’

‘Hmm, nope,’ I said. I glanced through a window-frame, checking the rear quadrant. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘I’ve been authorised by Levistus to guarantee your safety, as well as that of your apprentice,’ Barrayar said. ‘Should you fully co-operate.’

‘Gosh, what a great deal,’ I said dryly. ‘Sounds a lot like the one he gave me the first time we met. Has he told you that story, by the way? I wonder how long you’ll stay useful to him?’

‘Yes, he didn’t think you would take him up on the offer.’ Barrayar sighed. ‘You realise I can send enough waves of men into that building to fill it from floor to ceiling.’

‘Sounds like my kind of odds.’

‘Come now, Verus. You’re just being childish.’

‘You want me?’ I dropped the pretence, letting my feelings show through in my voice. ‘Then come and get me, you prissy little fuck.’ I hung up.

Barrayar didn’t call back. A tube train went by to the south, the carriages going past one after another, rattle and bang, rattle and bang. The futures shifted and as I looked ahead I saw danger zones opening up on the eastern side of the building. If I showed myself in the open window frames, I would take sniper fire. The shots didn’t seem to be lethal; they must still be hoping to take me alive. Good.

Minutes ticked by, tense and slow. I kept moving; it was a safe bet that they had a mage or adept from the living family reporting my position, and I didn’t want to give them an easy shot. I was expecting the first wave to be unaugmented humans, Council security working as Levistus’s hit squad. They wouldn’t enjoy the experience. When I’d told Barrayar that I liked the odds, I hadn’t been lying. I have a whole set of tricks up my sleeve that I never normally get to use, because they’re too extreme or desperate or cause too much collateral damage. It would be fun to cut loose, just once. After they lost enough security men, they’d send in the constructs. Then if those weren’t enough, it would be the turn of the mages. Sooner or later, they’d have enough to overwhelm me. I’d let them drive me back, into the room with the mines. And then … well. End of the road.

More time passed, and I started to fidget. They’re taking their time. I found my mind wandering … what were my odds of getting one of the mages? I figured I could probably catch one or two. That many mines, with the element of surprise, could overwhelm even the shield of a battle mage. I wondered what it would feel like. From looking into the futures, I didn’t think it would hurt. The speed of the projectiles would outpace my body’s nerve conduction velocity; I’d be ripped to pieces before my brain could process the damage. Suppose if I get bored of waiting, I could just go up and press the button. But I’d really like to take a few of the bastards with me.

Futures shifted. There. A squad was advancing from the building to the south, covered by the snipers. I darted up to the first floor, finding a viewing point where I could see them without exposing myself to fire. Leaning against a wall, looking through a doorway and a window, I could just glimpse movement in the darkness. I looked into the futures in which I moved out for a better look. They’d be in range in only a minute. Here we go …

Suddenly the futures changed. The lines in which the squad kept advancing vanished. I pulled back, expecting an attack, but nothing came. I took a closer look with my divination, and frowned. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but one of the men seemed to be using his radio. As I watched, the squad hunkered down. A diversion? I checked, but no one was approaching from any other direction either. Before, I’d only been scanning for movement, but now, as I looked ahead, I realised that I couldn’t see any attacks at all. Even the futures in which I was shot for walking in front of a window were gone. They were holding fire. What the hell?

A minute dragged by. It became five, then ten. My hands were shaking from adrenaline. Were they going to come, or what? At last the squad of men out in the open began to move … in the opposite direction. Staring in disbelief, I watched them withdraw back into the night.

I checked the futures, and checked again. No attacks. I couldn’t see any trace of danger, not even if I walked out into the open and waved my arms. The only movement I could see was … phone calls? ‘This is getting ridiculous,’ I muttered under my breath, and pulled out my phone to dial Barrayar’s number again.

It rang and kept on ringing. My irritation rose. It was bad enough that the guy was going to murder me; he could at least have the courtesy to be punctual about it. Still Barrayar didn’t answer, and I wondered what he was doing. Maybe he’d spotted the mines? But then why hold back the snipers …?

Barrayar picked up with a click, and I didn’t hide the annoyance in my voice. ‘Can we hurry this up?’

‘I suppose you think you’re very clever.’

‘Apparently not enough. Are we going to get this started?’

‘Please don’t play stupid.’

I paused. There was something wrong with Barrayar’s voice. Before he had been calm, relaxed. Now all of a sudden his tone was cold. He was … angry? Angry about what? ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Do you really expect me to believe that you knew nothing about this?’ Barrayar said. ‘Or that the timing was a coincidence?’

‘What is going on with you?’

‘I suppose I should have expected it,’ Barrayar said. ‘Congratulations, Verus. You have your victory. I wonder how much you’ll have to pay for it.’ There was a click and the line went dead.

I stared at the phone, then looked out into the darkness. The men who had been moving to surround the building were gone. Looking into the futures in which I left the building, I couldn’t sense any contact. I was alone.

I waited there for over an hour, searching the futures. Barrayar didn’t come back and neither did the Keepers. Inside me, hope warred with fear: I was alive, but I was afraid to believe I was safe. It had to be some sort of trick. As the minutes crept by, I started to shiver. The January air was icy cold and I was still wearing the thin clothes I’d been using in Nigeria.

It was almost 3 a.m. when my phone rang. I pulled it out, vaguely recognised the number and answered. ‘Landis,’ I said. ‘Long time.’

‘At least you’re alive to answer the phone,’ Landis said. Despite the hour, he sounded alert. ‘Now perhaps you can explain to me just what on God’s green earth is going on here. I’m woken up in the middle of the night by Variam, who tells me that he’s been woken up in the middle of the night by Anne, who has a garbled story about bombs and blackmail and that you’re planning to commit suicide by immolating yourself somewhere down in the East End. Since you’re talking to me, I’m going to take a wild leap into the unknown and speculate that you haven’t emulated our lord and saviour by returning from the dead.’

‘Not so much.’

‘Good. So what the devil is happening?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said wearily. To the west, a truck rumbled along the raised A-road, the concrete pillars vibrating in the night.

‘Not the best time and place to be under the veil of ignorance and all that. You do know that the Keepers still have an open warrant on you?’

‘It’s not the Keepers I’m worried about,’ I said. ‘Barrayar’s men just had me, but then they pulled back. Can you find out what’s going on? I’m spinning in the dark.’

‘You don’t ask much, do you?’ Landis sighed. ‘All right, all right. I suppose it can’t hurt to check. But don’t expect quick answers.’ He hung up.

I kept waiting, and kept shivering. I wanted to leave this place, but I was afraid of what would happen if I did. My fingers were starting to tremble when Landis rang back.

‘Thought you said no quick answers,’ I said. I had to work to keep my teeth from chattering.

‘It seems a few things have changed.’

Something about Landis’s voice made me sit up and pay attention. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You’re now a Council Keeper.’ Landis’s tone was … neutral. All of a sudden, somehow, I had the feeling he was studying me. ‘Of the Order of the Star. There was quite a commotion in the office. It seems the documentation was brought in just a couple of hours ago.’

I stood very still, staring into the darkness. ‘What?’

‘You didn’t know?’

‘I … No. How?’

‘You’ve been appointed as Light Council liaison to the Keepers. Turns out the position grants Keeper status. They had to look it up to make sure that was really how it worked.’

I looked at the phone. I couldn’t think of anything to say.

‘Verus? Are you there?’

‘…Yeah.’ I tried to process what had just happened. ‘I’m a Keeper?’

‘And as such, you’re a recognised Light mage. Which also means that you have the right to a full trial before any judgement can be passed upon you. Until that happens, the resolution delivering your death sentence is suspended. So, on the positive side, I’m not obliged to go execute you, which frankly I think is an improvement on the existing state of affairs.’

Landis’s earlier words caught up with me. A couple of hours. That was the call that had stopped Barrayar. ‘Well then,’ Landis said. ‘Since the excitement appears to be over, I think I’ll bid you goodnight.’

‘Wait,’ I said. ‘How did this happen? Was there a resolution?’

‘No resolution,’ Landis said. ‘Just an appointment. By one specific Council member.’

‘Who …?’ I stopped.

‘Yes,’ Landis said. ‘Your old friend Councillor Morden. Apparently you’re now his personal liaison.’ Landis paused. ‘Welcome to the club.’ He hung up.

I stood very still, the phone still held to my ear. I stayed there a long time, the cold seeping into my body, alone in the ruined building.