Burned

6

My eyes snapped open. Above me was my bedroom ceiling, dark except for the faint blurry glow of the streetlights below the window. The house was silent and still … but my precognition was shouting that I was in danger. I looked into the future to see what would happen if I stayed where I was.

In just under one minute, someone was going to sneak into my room and shoot me through the head.

My mind kicked into high gear, and all of a sudden everything seemed to be going very slowly, the seconds ticking by one by one. I held quite still, my future self flashing through the possibilities, scouting and searching. Two men in the house … no, three. Magic, but not an overwhelming amount of it. They were carrying handguns with silencers.

I thought fast, assigning priorities. First, call for help; second, get a weapon; third, fight. I grabbed my phone from the side table, clicked it to mute and typed in a code. The ringing icon appeared on the screen and I placed it back down on the table, then I rolled out from under the covers and landed catlike on all fours before rising to my feet.

When Anne, Variam, Luna and I had begun our surveillance of Richard last year, we’d spent some time discussing contingencies. Out of all the possible threats, one we kept coming back to had been the night raid, with enemies infiltrating our homes while we were alone and helpless. It had happened before: the Nightstalkers had tried to blow up my flat while I was sleeping in it two years ago, and Anne had been attacked in a similar way not long afterwards.

Although we hadn’t been able to come up with a really reliable counter-tactic, one thing we’d laid in place had been a panic signal. The code I’d just typed in would ring Anne’s, Luna’s and Variam’s phones, and would make them keep ringing until they shut them off. All four of us had gate stones to each other’s houses. It was just a matter of time until they showed up.

Hopefully.

I pulled on my trousers, stalking out into the living room, bare feet silent on the carpet. As I did, I looked into the futures in which I went downstairs. Not good. The men below were less than thirty seconds away, and they were already climbing the stairs. Coolly I looked through the futures in which I searched the room, looking for a weapon. I wanted something lethal: no concern for overkill this time. The silencers on their guns had established that, even if I hadn’t seen what they were planning to do with them. Unfortunately, I had no guns up here – they were down in the safe room. Should have kept one within reach … too late now. I considered various magical items and dismissed them as too specialised. There was a dagger resting at the back of my desk; I slid it from its sheath, walked to the door, then pressed myself against the wall next to the door-frame.

I still couldn’t see the three men, but from the futures in which I opened the door, I knew they were out on the landing. I held myself quite still, tracking their movement through the futures. The room was dark and silent. Only the faintest whisper of traffic sounded from outside; from my glance at the phone I knew it was 3 a.m. and Camden was as quiet as it would ever be. I waited.

There was a creak from outside: a footstep on the landing. I didn’t move. In the dim light, I could just make out movement as the handle began to turn. I watched silently as it rotated through ninety degrees, then stopped. Slowly, the door began to open, swinging out towards me. I tightened my grip on the hilt of the knife. I could sense the lead man just on the other side of the door, less than three feet away, his gun up and aimed at the bedroom entrance. Couldn’t risk waiting for them to pass and taking the rear man. I’d have to knife the first and use him as a shield. Only seconds now until he’d enter. I tensed, ready to spring—

The futures splintered, changed. I heard the whisper-crackle of a radio. A pause, then— ‘He’s awake!’ The voice was sharp. ‘Back up, back up!’

Hurried footsteps sounded, withdrawing down the stairs. ‘Where?’ someone called.

‘Shoot the walls. Shoot!’

People overestimate how much a silencer muffles the sound of a gunshot. The noise as the guns opened up was an echoing metallic bang bang bang, like a set of extremely loud staplers. The internal wall between the staircase and my living room wasn’t reinforced, and the bullets went right through, sending bits of paint and plaster scattering to the carpet.

I’d already jumped back from the door. My precognition had given me enough warning to get out of the line of fire, and I crouched behind the sofa as the bullets whizzed overhead. The men were shooting from the stairs and landing below, and the upward angle meant the shots were going into the ceiling. The shooting seemed to go on for a long time, but it could only have been ten or twenty seconds before the banging stopped and silence fell.

I stayed dead still. My living room was a mess, holes in the walls and bits of plaster covering the floor. Looking into the futures in which I moved forward, I eavesdropped. The men below were whispering to each other.

‘… get him?’

‘Dunno. Ask…’

‘… can’t hear…’

I didn’t move, sorting calmly through the possibilities. They’d been aware that I was awake and waiting. However, they hadn’t seemed to realise that fact until the last second. It had sounded as though they’d only received the message over the radio. Putting that together, the most probable conclusion I could come to was that there was a mage nearby, watching my house from outside with deathsight or lifesight or something similar. I’ve got wards against space magic, but the detection spells used by mages from the living family are very hard to block. If that was the case, the three men below probably weren’t mages themselves, just adepts or sensitives. That also made sense. When you’re scouting a hostile building, you send your pawns in first.

The men were still whispering. It sounded as though they were trying to figure out if I was dead. Working on the assumption that they were being fed information over a radio link, I’d have a small delay between making any movement and the information being passed along. That could be useful.

‘… says he’s still there,’ one of the men whispered.

‘They sure?’

‘… get a closer…’

‘… crazy?’

More radio chatter. ‘You heard…’ one of the men whispered. ‘Dave, you’re on point.’

‘… that,’ the other man whispered back. ‘Cover me.’

I felt the exact moment the pin was pulled from the grenade. All of a sudden the futures were all converging to the same point: in exactly five seconds, there was going to be a shrapnel explosion somewhere in my flat. The only question was where. I heard movement from below as the man rose to make his throw, and I broke cover, darting to the open doorway.

There are a lot of different philosophical and legal positions on the use of force – when it’s justified, how much is justified, that sort of thing. People will often say that violence is only justified if it’s in self-defence, but that’s kind of vague. Probably the most common position I see people advocate is the ‘minimum force’ one – the idea is that in any given situation, you’re justified in using whatever the minimum amount of physical force is to protect yourself, but no more than that.

While I can see the logic behind that kind of thinking, it’s never something I’ve entirely agreed with. I’ll follow the minimum force approach in some situations, but as a choice rather than as a rule, and it’s not my most instinctive reaction. Instead, my philosophy tends to be that you’re justified in using an amount of force that is equivalent to the amount directed at you. So, as a general rule, I tend to think that it’s okay to roughly match the level of aggression and/or violent intent of whoever attacks you. That was why, when James Redman and those two adepts had come after me, I hadn’t killed them, but I hadn’t let them off with a warning either. They’d tried to hit me with sticks, so I’d responded by hitting them with sticks. Equivalence.

Which is a long-winded way of saying that, while I could have acted differently in the short space of time after the pin was pulled on that grenade, having thought about it with the benefit of hindsight, I probably would have done the same thing.

As the grenade came flying through the open doorway, I stretched out my right hand and caught it, then with a flick of my wrist sent it flying back down the stairs at the same angle it had come from. Then I got back behind the sofa.

There was a brief, horrible scream, cut off abruptly.

I waited for the echoes of the boom to die away, then lifted my head and called down to the landing. ‘Next.’

There was a moment’s silence, then another volley of gunfire. More plaster went puffing into the air, accompanied by chips of wood and shredded paper. Some of the bullets must have gone through my bookshelf. I hoped they hadn’t hit any of my favourites. The books weren’t first editions or anything, but some of them had sentimental value.

I crouched quietly and waited for the shooting to stop. I already knew that as long as I stayed here, there were no futures in which I’d be hit. I tried to count the bullets and had got to seventeen or so by the time the shots cut off.

Silence fell again. My ears were ringing slightly from the gunshots, and I couldn’t hear anything else over it. I waited and explored the futures in which I looked out down the stairs.

‘We know you’re up there!’ one of the men shouted from below.

I didn’t answer. I was uncomfortably aware of how vulnerable I was. I was barefoot, dressed only in a T-shirt and trousers, and my sole weapon was a knife. The three men – two, now – had handguns. If they just rushed me, I didn’t like my chances. I’d get one, but there was a good chance the other would kill me. Could I get my armour on? Maybe I could stall them. I couldn’t see through the short-term combats to check, but I knew help had to be on its way.

Luckily, the men below didn’t seem keen on a suicide charge. Not many people are, even when it’s the best chance of success. Instead, looking into the futures, I could see they were about to … Really? They didn’t learn from the first time? Well, I wasn’t complaining. I moved up to the doorway again.

They did things differently this time. The guy with the grenade let it cook for two seconds after pulling the pin, and the other guy covered the doorway with his gun. Probably would have worked against anyone with normal reflexes. But one of the early tricks I learned with divination was how to apply it to thrown items. I can pick up an object and hit a target first time, every time, with only a second or so to aim – all I have to do is pick out the future in which I get the shot right. It takes a little work to synchronise the divination with your muscle memory, but once you do, it’s not hard to adapt it to other uses. Such as throwing stuff back.

I brought my palm around in an open-handed slap as the grenade came flying in, and batted it back down the stairs. There was the bang of a shot, but I already knew it was going to miss. I dropped flat instantly and felt the floor vibrate in the BOOM! of the explosion from below. I shook my head, trying to clear the ringing in my ears.

‘—you!’ the man below was yelling. ‘Fuck you! You piece of shit!’

I didn’t answer. The men below were angry and scared, which was good. They were also alive, which was bad. I could sense a force shield – that was probably how they’d survived the two explosions. The guy hit in the first blast must have been caught by surprise.

Impasse. I couldn’t attack; they’d shoot me down as I tried to close the distance. But I couldn’t go back and don my armour either, or else I’d open up the possibility of them rushing me. They could reach the top of the stairs in seconds, and once they were through the choke point of the doorway, my chances of survival would drop fast.

The plus side was that I’d clearly scared them. I couldn’t hear what they were saying any more – they were whispering softly enough that I couldn’t make out the words – but the futures in which they tried to force their way up the stairs were few and far between. Unless I did something to make them feel as though they had an opening, they weren’t going to try anything just yet. I looked into the future in which I just waited them out, and—

Yes. That was what I’d been hoping for.

From below, I felt a flicker of gate magic. Not much time. I hurried to the desk and grabbed a one-shot spell, then moved back to the door. I could still hear the whisper of their voices, and from the futures in which I showed myself, I knew they had their guns trained on the doorway. They were focused on me, but they’d still notice anyone coming up from behind them. Time to change that. ‘Hey,’ I called down the stairs. ‘Catch.’ Then I flicked the item in my hand around the edge of the door-frame.

Force magic flared as the adept below strengthened his shield, but it hadn’t been an attack. The small glass marble I’d thrown hit the stairs and shattered, and mist rushed out, clogging the stairwell with fog. I heard a shout, muffled through the vapour, and the bang of a shot – too late. I sat back and waited.

‘Where is he?’ one of the men called.

‘Shut up, listen!’

Silence fell. I knew that both of the men had their guns trained upwards, waiting for me to appear out of the fog so that they could shoot. It was a pretty good plan – even with the concealment, once I got close enough, they’d have a decent chance of hitting me as I came down the stairs.

Unfortunately for them, what they should have been watching for was somebody coming up the stairs.

There was a thumping, slithering noise, exactly the sound a body would make falling down a wooden stairway. There was a startled yell, followed by the bang of a shot. I felt a surge of magic, and green light flashed through the fog. Another thump. Silence.

A soft voice called up from within the fog. ‘Alex?’

‘Are there any more?’ I called back.

Quiet footsteps sounded and Anne materialised out of the mist. She was wearing an old, worn child’s T-shirt, with a thin jacket and a pair of tracksuit bottoms, both looking as if they’d been thrown on in a hurry. But her eyes were alert, and she was wide awake. ‘There’s no one else,’ Anne said. ‘Did they—?’

I gave Anne a quick hug, then pushed her back, scanning her. I couldn’t see any blood on her. ‘Are you okay? That shot didn’t hit?’

Anne shook her head. ‘No. What’s happening?’

‘Hell if I know.’ I moved quickly back to the bedroom, threw on a sweater and started putting my armour on over it. Anne stayed in the living room without having to be told, looking from side to side. ‘Looks like whoever I pissed off is getting serious.’

‘Levistus?’

‘Doubt it.’ I pulled on my socks and started tying my shoes. ‘Some adepts tried to work me over after you guys left Saturday night. I think they’re escalating. Can you see anyone?’

From where we were standing, there wasn’t much to see except the walls and a limited angle from the windows, but Anne doesn’t need to see someone to know where they are. Anne is a life mage, and can sense the presence of any living creature within a hundred feet or so. Given a little time, she can also tell you their sex, height, weight, general state of health, medical history and what they had for breakfast that morning, and if she can lay a hand on them, she can start affecting things more directly. That was how she’d dropped those two men on the landing – once she got within touch range, the only question was whether she chose to leave them dead or just unconscious. (They were unconscious, of course. I hadn’t asked and I hadn’t needed to. Anne’s magic is very good at killing people, but she doesn’t do it unless she has no other option.)

‘No one on the street,’ Anne said after a second’s pause. She was frowning. ‘The alley is empty as well. Shouldn’t there be more?’

‘Yeah.’ I came back into the living room and started scooping up items from the table to stuff into my pockets. ‘Buildings around?’

‘Lots of people,’ Anne said, glancing at the wall. I once asked Anne what people looked like to her eyes and she described them as living webs of woven green light. To her, the walls and buildings probably looked translucent, the glows of the people behind them shining out through the darkness. ‘Up on the first and second floors, mostly. But they look asleep.’

I thought for a second. ‘Check the buildings behind and the other side of the street. Look for a person awake and standing up, maybe up on the second floor or the rooftop. Anywhere they’d get an elevated view. But no matter what you see, stay still and don’t say anything until I ask. Okay?’

Anne nodded. It would be a pretty bizarre request to anyone who didn’t know how divination magic works, but this wasn’t the first time Anne and I had been through situations like this and we knew each other’s quirks. With Anne’s futures steady and non-disruptive, I was free to look ahead to see what would happen if we held still and waited.

The futures unfolded: quiet for one minute, then two. This had been an assassination, not a warning, and I could see two directions in which this could go once whoever had sent those men figured out that they’d failed. Option one would be for them to play it safe, cut their losses and withdraw. Option two was to double down. I really hoped that they’d go for option one—

The futures ahead bloomed into fire. ‘Shit.’

Anne didn’t look up. ‘I’m guessing that’s not good news.’

‘We’re about to have company,’ I said. I strode to the cupboard and started rooting through. I don’t keep many items outside my safe room, but I have a few on hand for emergencies. I pulled out an old, gnarled stick and tossed it to Anne. She caught it and looked at me, puzzled. ‘Air magic focus,’ I said. ‘It’s meant for extinguishing fires. Pulls the oxygen out of a small sphere as long as you concentrate. Command word is luthia, range is about thirty feet. You’ve got more power to fuel it than I do.’ I headed for the stairs.

Anne followed. ‘What fires?’

‘The ones we’re about to have.’ The mist from the condenser had dissipated and the landing between the first and second floors was filled with bodies, two alive and one dead. It was the first clear look I’d had at the three men who’d come to kill me. They were dressed in black and wore ski masks. ‘They’re trying to burn us out.’

‘How?’

‘Fire sprites.’ I touched the metal door to my safe room and said a word under my breath. There was no visual sign, but in my mage’s sight I saw the wards around the room glow, then subside. I’d just locked the room down, reinforcing it against any attack. I really didn’t want anyone getting in there.

‘What are—? Wait.’ Anne stopped, looking upwards, frowning slightly. ‘There.’

‘There?’

‘Up in that building,’ Anne said, nodding up and towards the wall. ‘Across the street and two down. There’s a man up in the second-floor flat. He wasn’t doing anything before, but another guy just appeared out of nowhere. I think it was a gate.’

I hesitated, precious seconds ticking past. If I went now, I might be able to get there before the fire sprites attacked, but … ‘No time.’ I hurried downstairs. ‘Keep an eye on them and tell me what they do.’

Down on the shop floor, I swept the desk clear and then shoved the chair away, clearing space above the runic circle carved into the floor. ‘What are fire sprites?’ Anne asked.

‘Mini fire elementals.’ I tore open a packet of dust and sprinkled it over the circle, making sure to get both of the rings. ‘Mages store them in embryo form, then feed them concentrated fire magic to start them growing. Really high energy requirements. Once they mature, they go hunting for stuff to burn, and they’ll keep burning until they run out of fuel.’

‘Are they alive?’

‘Your magic’ll affect them, yeah. Though touching them’ll hurt.’ I glanced up. ‘Need to do a summon. Try and get some water. Buckets, bottles, whatever. And get the fire extinguisher.’

Anne nodded and disappeared into the back of the shop. I grabbed a dull crystal from the drawer out of a selection of similar-looking stones, held it up above the circle, then started chanting.

There was a spike in the futures: gate magic. Shit. I was going to have less time than I thought. I kept chanting, calculating futures as I did. Thirty seconds until the summon was done. Ten seconds until the gate would open. This was going to be messy. Well, I was committed now.

Outside, in the street, white light bloomed. I felt the signature of space magic as a gate formed, small and circular, hanging in mid-air on the other side of the road, well out of range of my shop’s gate wards. The face of the gate was an opaque white glow; the gate was masked. I kept chanting, not looking away.

Something came fluttering through the gate, landing awkwardly on the pavement. It looked like a very small dragon sculpted from solid flame, with two wings and a long neck and tail. It raised its head towards my shop, two beady eyes looking out of a lizard-like head, then braced itself and jumped off the kerb, heading for the window.

Fire sprites look cute and pretty if you don’t know what they do. Problem was, I knew exactly what this one was here to do. Second problem: it wasn’t alone. Another fire sprite came flying out of the gate behind the first one. Then a second. Then a third, and a fourth, and a fifth.

The first sprite hit the window and bounced, flapping frantically. Others hit a few seconds later. Behind them, I could see that they were still coming through the portal, one after another. Claws scrabbled at the glass as more and more arrived, landing on the window like giant flapping fiery moths. The front window to my shop is bulletproof, magic-proof and fireproof … or at least I thought it was. As I looked at the futures, I amended that last descriptor to ‘fire-resistant’. Turns out that pretty much everything burns if you heat it up enough. It took the sprites less than thirty seconds to melt their way through.

Luckily, that was long enough. I finished my chant with a shout of ‘ettul a nahame!’ and threw the crystal down to shatter at the centre of the circle.

Summoning is a form of ritual magic, which is essentially a longer, more complicated version of focus magic: it’s how you produce more elaborate effects that don’t fall within your magic type (or anyone’s magic type). Rituals are much slower than normal spells, don’t have anywhere near the same flexibility and usually require various rare ingredients that are obnoxiously difficult to get.

But when they work, they really work.

The shards of the crystal came alight, sapphire energy swirling upwards from the broken fragments to take form. A humanoid figure materialised by the counter, vaguely feminine in shape and sculpted from blue light with yellow-gold accents forming patterns on the chest, arms and head. It turned its blank eyeless face towards me, waiting.

I pointed at the fire sprites. ‘Eat them.’

The creature swivelled to face the fire sprites. The first was just in the process of melting its way through the bottom left corner of my window. The blue and gold figure leaned forward slightly, as though bracing itself.

I heard footsteps behind me, coming to an abrupt halt. ‘I’ve got—’ Anne began, then stopped. ‘What is that?’

‘Spell drinker,’ I called without looking back at her. ‘It’s on our side. Don’t kill it!’

‘If you say so.’ Anne’s voice was dubious. She took a step forward, coming up to my side just as the glass in the corner of the window-frame liquefied and began to drip away, and the fire sprite that had melted the hole came squeezing through.

I’ve made more than a few enemies over the course of my life, and during the past five years, several have seen fit to come and pay me a house call. My shop and flat are well supplied with weapons, but against heavy-grade opposition, weapons aren’t always enough, as I was reminded a few years ago when a construct smashed its way through my front window and tried to strangle everyone on the premises, myself included. Once that affair had been dealt with, I went out looking for a defence system that was easy to maintain but also had enough punch to stop a significant magical attack on the level of the one I’d just faced. I’d considered an elemental, as well as several variants of magical sentry, but in the end I’d decided to go for a spell drinker.

Spell drinkers are magical creatures, and they’re sapient, if not particularly smart. They can be summoned as an elemental can, but behave quite differently. Elementals take a fair bit of energy to summon, but once they’re there, they’re there. The only thing limiting their effective duration is how compatible the environment is with the element in question. Spell drinkers work very differently. They burn through their energy reserves fast, but they can replenish those reserves off pretty much any source of magical energy they can get close to – that means active spells, charged and imbued items, constructs, magical creatures and even mages if they’re not careful. They’re not the safest creatures to summon, but as long as there’s a source of magical energy around that’s stronger than you, you’re usually okay. Just point them at the magical thing you want to get rid of, and get out of the way.

As the fire sprite entered the shop, the spell drinker came bounding forward, moving with a weird loping grace. It reached out its hand to touch the fire sprite, and as its fingers brushed the fire, the sprite was sucked into the spell drinker’s hand. It was like watching a cloud of liquid go down a plughole. One moment the fire sprite was there, spreading its wings, then it was gone.

Another chunk of glass melted and folded, this time at the top of the window, and another fire sprite tried to get inside. The spell drinker’s fingers caught it from underneath and it was sucked into nothingness. The third sprite vanished even faster than the first two.

‘It’s pretty powerful,’ Anne said quietly.

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Just one problem.’ I pointed out through the glass and out into the street. ‘They’re still coming.’

The fire sprites hadn’t stopped streaming through the gate. The street was full of them, scrambling over cars and flapping over the centre of the road. As I watched, a fourth and a fifth fire sprite tried to force their way through the holes in the window and died, but there were at least fifteen more of the things and I didn’t think the spell drinker could stop them all. Already the window was more holes than glass; molten streaks were running down the sill and to the floor, and the temperature was rising.

As I watched, the window-frame at the bottom left corner caught fire in the heat. ‘Luthia!’ Anne called, levelling the wand. The flame winked out. Another sprite had its life extinguished as it came flapping through the growing hole at the centre.

‘Anne,’ I said, my voice tense. ‘These things are alive, right?’

‘Luthia!’ Anne called and another patch of flames vanished. ‘Yes.’

‘How much is it going to hurt if you life-drain them?’

‘I’d rather not find out.’

‘I think that’s about to stop being an option.’

Anne looked in the direction in which I was pointing and let out her breath in a hiss. The door was starting to glow with heat, and flames were licking around the frame and keyhole. Oddly, despite all the attacks I’ve had to deal with over the years, my front door had never been damaged, meaning that I’d never replaced it, and as a result it was still made of wood. As we watched, the door flash-ignited, flames leaping out. Anne levelled her focus and called out the command word. A small circle of fire winked out, but the instant the spell ended, the area ignited again.

‘Not going to work,’ I said. ‘Too hot.’

‘Luthia,’ Anne said. ‘Luthia. Luthia.’ She paused. ‘Crap.’

I turned and grabbed the CO2 extinguisher from behind the counter, then yanked off the tag and lifted it up. It only took me a few seconds, but by the time I’d turned around again the door was ablaze. Pieces of wood were red-hot and glowing, embers crumbling off to scatter to the floor. Orange-red claws reached through, scrabbling. The spell drinker was still busy with the fire sprites coming through the window. Each time one of the tiny elementals came through it died, but there were always more.

Anne wiped out a patch of fire that had started to spread along the window. ‘How long until the fire brigade get here?’

‘Not soon enough, and it won’t make any difference.’ I could see glimpses of the sprites through the widening holes in the door.

‘Luthia!’ Anne lowered the focus, then straightened up and took a deep breath. ‘Okay.’ She tossed the focus back at me without looking and I caught it. ‘Time to do this the hard way.’

The door groaned and fell inwards, the bottom half breaking away and falling in with a thump, ablaze in flames. Fire sprites came through, one, two, three. One landed on the herb rack and ignited it in a whoof. The other two arrowed straight at us.

Anne was waiting. She stood with hands by her sides, fingers extended and spread. As the first sprite dived at her, her hand flashed up to touch it.

The reason that life mages are feared isn’t because of their lifesight. A life mage who can lay hands upon another living creature can control their biology, to heal or repair … or to kill. Green light flashed, something moving from the sprite into Anne almost too fast to see, then Anne was whipping her hand back and the fire sprite was falling lifeless, sprawling on the floor to dissolve into shapeless flame. The second one had aimed for me. I picked the future in which it missed and ducked aside, feeling the rush of heat in my hair as the thing swept past and hit the counter, its claws carving black streaks on the wood. Anne caught it before it could take off again, her hand curling around its neck and snapping back. The fire sprite shimmered and died, leaving flames licking at my desk. I sprayed them with CO2 until they went out.

I looked at Anne. ‘You okay?’

Anne lifted her hand, examining it. The palm and fingers were an angry red, but as I watched leaf-green light glowed around her arm and the red burns began to recede. New skin grew to replace the burned patches, and in only seconds Anne’s hand was unmarked. ‘I’m fine,’ Anne said. She turned away without meeting my eyes. ‘Let’s kill the rest.’

I gave Anne a troubled look. ‘…Yeah.’

The battle at the window was still going, the spell drinker holding the line against a seemingly endless stream of fire sprites. The sprites threw themselves through the holes, fearless and quick, but they couldn’t hurt the spell drinker: every time the blue and gold figure touched one of them, light rippled through its body and it moved with greater vigour. The small amount of damage the heat was doing was being outweighed by the extra vitality it was draining from the elementals. The sprites were too simple-minded to coordinate their attacks – they just went for one of the two existing holes in the glass, scrambled through, and became food.

Anne strode towards the fire sprite on the herb rack. It looked up, opened its mouth to hiss at her, and died, its body dissolving into flame as Anne passed by without breaking stride. The herb rack was on fire, filling the air with the scent of burning verbena and lavender, and I moved up behind Anne to douse it with the extinguisher, white gas rushing over the flames and snuffing them out. Anne killed a fourth fire sprite near the door and stood ready, hands by her sides, waiting for the next target.

We’re winning this. Anne was blocking the door and the spell drinker was blocking the window. The sprites weren’t intelligent enough to figure out a way through. We just needed to hold the line—

A horrible vision flashed through my precognition. I looked ahead for just one instant, then shouted at Anne. ‘Anne! Back to me, run, NOW!’

Anne didn’t hesitate. She darted back, crossing the shop floor to my side. I caught her and pulled her down behind the counter.

Fire magic surged, and the shop flashed red with a roar. A wash of heat and scorching air rolled over my head.

I stood to see that the entire front of the shop was a sea of flame. The window, the door and everything within ten feet of the front wall was ablaze. It was moving too fast; natural fire spreads slowly, but this one moved like a living thing, tendrils running out along the floor. The first rack of shelves smouldered and ignited, the flames growing in seconds from licking tongues to an inferno. I could feel the magic pouring down into the street from above, some kind of spell I didn’t recognise. I’d seen basic fire-starting before, but nothing like this. Anne caught up the focus and levelled it, shouting ‘Luthia!’ A small patch of fire flickered for half a second, one or two tendrils going out, then it jumped forward again, reclaiming the part of the shelves Anne had just extinguished. Already the fire had spread to the entire front half of the shop.

I caught Anne’s arm and pulled her back. ‘It’s no good!’ I shouted over the roar of the flames. ‘Run!’

Anne didn’t argue. The fire sprites were dancing in the inferno, revelling in the heat; the spell drinker was still up and moving, but more slowly. As I watched, it caught one more sprite and extinguished it, then another wave of heat stung my eyes and made me blink away. Two or three more sprites came flying out of the blaze. They were moving faster now; the fire seemed to be energising them. I snapped out a command word and a wall of force flared up along the line of the counter, cutting off the magic item section and the space behind the counter from the rest of the shop. The sprites slammed into the wall and went tumbling to the floor.

‘Alex!’ Anne shouted from behind me; she’d made it back into the corridor. I took one last look over the shop floor and saw that it was hopeless. The fire had engulfed the shelves and was creeping closer to the counter. A haze of smoke was in the air, stinging my eyes and throat, and only the forcewall was stopping it from growing even worse. I backed into the corridor and pushed the door shut behind me. I had one last glimpse of the spell drinker, still fighting the sprites amid the roaring flames, then the door slammed and we were left in darkness.

Spots swam before my eyes as my vision adjusted to the gloom of the stairs. Even with the door closed, I could still smell smoke, and I could still feel the heat. The forcewall wouldn’t hold back the fire for long. ‘Come on,’ I said, pulling Anne by one hand. Anne’s night vision is good, but she can’t outright ignore darkness the way I can. ‘Up.’

Anne let me lead her up the stairs. The roar and crackle of flames died away as we ascended. ‘Have you got anything that can put that out?’ Anne asked.

‘In a manner of speaking,’ I said. ‘Can you find the mage who’s maintaining that spell?’

‘I think it’s the two men on the second floor there.’ I felt Anne twist as she pointed. ‘They’re looking down at the shop. I can’t tell if it’s them, but—’

‘Good enough. Cover me.’

We’d made it back up to the landing where the assassins had been stopped. The ones Anne had knocked out were still knocked out; the one dead from the grenade was still dead. I crouched down in the darkness, searching quickly through their belongings. I found a pistol and a spare clip of ammo, but what I really wanted were some more grenades. The two unconscious men didn’t have any. I switched to the dead one.

‘Alex?’ Anne said. ‘The spell drinker’s hurt.’

‘Fire sprites?’ I asked. I was glad the light wasn’t on. Grenades don’t kill in quite as horrible a way as some weapons, but the effects they leave still aren’t pretty, and I didn’t need the distraction. The clothes under my fingers were pockmarked with sticky holes.

‘Seven … make that six.’

‘Tell me if they move up.’ My fingers closed on cool metal, egg-shaped with an irregular shell. That’s one. I flicked quickly through the futures in which I kept searching, but all my fingers found was blood. It’ll have to do.

I headed up, opened the door at the back of the kitchen and stepped out on to the balcony. Cool air flooded into my lungs, a relief after the heat of the flames, but I could still smell smoke, even out here: the fire was spreading. I spoke to Anne, keeping my voice quiet. ‘Follow me up to the roof, but stay low. Keep the building between you and the men in that building opposite. Watch them and tell me if they move. Okay?’

Anne nodded. The cold, deadly manner she’d shown downstairs had vanished, and in the faint lights of the city she looked normal again. I couldn’t help feeling relieved; Anne’s other side might be good in a fight, but seeing it makes me uneasy. I climbed up the ladder, crouched at the back of the roof and started searching through futures.

The first priority was target confirmation. I looked to see what would happen if I walked up to the front of the roof and stood there in plain view. Ouch. Okay, the people in that second-floor flat were definitely bad guys. As an aside, I noted that the fire on the ground floor was strong enough to light up the entire street. I had no idea of how to put it out … no, no time for that. Human threats first. I lifted the grenade and began tracing arcs.

Like I said, I’m very good with thrown weapons. Coordinating the divination results with your muscle movements takes practice, but any diviner can do it if they’re willing to put in the effort. It works with guns too, but back when I was learning the trick, thrown items were what I had, so thrown items were what I got good at. This was an unusually tricky shot: not only was I doing it at long range and in the dark, but there was a roof in the way. Almost impossible for a normal human. Ten seconds’ work for me. Too high. Still too high. Too low. Frame hit. That’s the angle. How much delay? One second … no, a bit longer. Pulling the pin changes the trajectory. Recalculate … there. I pulled the pin from the grenade, let the lever spring free, waited one and a half seconds, then threw it into the darkness. One heartbeat. Two heartbeats—

There was the distant sound of shattering glass as the grenade went through the window, followed half a second later by the explosion. The detonation was much quieter at this distance: less of a bang, more of a hollow pboom. That’s for burning down my shop, you bastard.

‘Anne?’ I said.

‘He’s hurt,’ Anne said. Her eyes were distant as she looked down towards the other building. ‘Badly. He’s crawling away.’

‘What about the other one?’

‘He’s gone.’ Anne frowned. ‘I can’t see where he— wait.’ Anne turned, looking left over the rooftops. ‘He’s there! I think—’

‘Move!’ I grabbed Anne’s hand and ran away from the direction she’d been looking, pulling her stumbling behind me.

There was a flash from behind, and the chimneys and aerials around us were lit up in dull red light as fire magic bloomed with a whoompf. Hot air washed over our backs. I knew the light of the fireball had painted us as targets, and when the second one came I was ready. I jumped the small parapet linking one roof to another, then yanked Anne to the right. Something that looked like a glowing red spark shot past, hitting the ventilators of the apartment block ahead and exploding with another whoompf and a flash of flame.

Before the mage behind us could throw a third fireball, I’d put a chimney stack between us and him. I kept moving, using the ventilators and chimneys as cover, then circled around. The plaster of the roof was scorched and warm, but the ventilators were metal and the chimneys were brick and there was nothing to burn. I reached the chimneys at the back and peered around the edge.

Flames were licking up from the edges of my house. From the fact that I could see them, I knew that the fire had spread all the way up to my flat, and I knew that the building was gone. Even if the fire brigade arrived in the next minute – which they wouldn’t – there was no way to save it. No time to mourn. Right now I needed to survive.

‘Do we run?’ Anne whispered. She’d stayed with me as I’d moved.

‘I’d like to—’ I stopped abruptly as I felt gate magic behind us. I looked into the futures in which we fled back over the rooftops. ‘Shit.’

‘We could try the railway line…’

‘More gunmen behind us.’ I looked back towards my house. ‘And that guy in front. Great.’

A man had appeared on top of my roof, or what would have looked like a man if it hadn’t been wreathed in flame. The shape walked forward, ignoring the smoke and licking fire, and paused at the parapet, scanning the rooftops ahead. I saw futures in which we were spotted and pulled back, relying on my divination to track his movements.

‘He’s the one from before,’ Anne whispered.

‘I know,’ I said in a low voice. ‘Fire mage.’ Spells have a distinctive signature, and the fireballs and flame shield carried the same fingerprint as the spell that had created the blaze in my shop. ‘Any chance he’s hurt?’

‘No.’

‘Figures.’

‘How did he get across so fast?’ Anne whispered.

It was a good question. A gate spell would have done it, but gates are typically slower than that. I looked into the futures in which we moved. Not good. The men behind were positioned four rooftops down, behind cover, and they were waiting for us. If we went the other way, we’d be clearly visible to the fire mage’s heat vision. As long as we stayed in the cover of the chimneys, we could stay hidden, but as soon as we left …

‘They’re waiting for us,’ Anne said quietly.

‘I know.’ I thought quickly. The fire brigade had to have been called by now, and once they were here it might create enough confusion for us to slip away. What was worrying me was how these people were getting on to the roof so fast. I looked ahead, and— ‘Shit!’

Gate magic bloomed again, and a portal opened on the roof above my flat. More men came through, hurrying to get out of the smoke. From a glimpse into the futures they were carrying guns too.

‘More mages?’ Anne said in dismay.

‘No,’ I said, biting off my words. ‘Gunmen.’ I knew what was happening now. ‘They’ve got a gate specialist. She’s moving these guys in.’

‘She?’

‘Symmaris, unless I miss my guess.’ Damn it. I knew who these men were working for now, but it wouldn’t do me any good. I should have paid more attention to Landis.

‘Alex,’ Anne whispered. ‘They’re coming closer.’

I checked the futures and confirmed it. Shit, shit, shit. Mage ahead, gunmen on both sides, and the building was on fire. If we made a break for it they’d just gate ahead of us. I looked into the futures in which I tried to snipe the men in front. No good – the fire mage would see us too easily. The ones behind? Not the left, we’d get spotted … right might work. ‘Stay down,’ I whispered. ‘I’m going to try and slow down the ones behind.’

‘All right.’

I moved back, being very careful to keep the ventilators between myself and the fire mage. Fire mages can see heat; if he got a clear line of sight, I’d stand out in the darkness like a torch. Once I reached the furthest chimney, I crouched and checked the gun I’d taken from the assassins. One bullet in the chamber, two more in the clip, and I had a full clip spare. The suppressor wouldn’t do much to muffle the gunshot, but it would hide the flash in the darkness. That would be useful. I held still and waited.

Ten seconds, twenty. Futures flickered: if I moved forward I’d run the risk of getting shot. Lean right? Other way. I rose slightly, braced my elbow against the chimney, then leaned carefully up and left, sighting the long barrel towards the chimney stack twenty feet away. The streetlights all around us cast a fuzzy neon glow, reflecting off the low clouds above to create a faint ambient radiance, just enough to pick out the outline of the chimneys and parapet. I felt the futures shift; there was a man behind those chimneys, waiting for me to make a move. If I showed, he’d fire. I held perfectly still.

A dark shape moved from behind the chimney stack. I waited exactly long enough to get a clear shot, then fired twice.

The pistol jerked in my hands with its double bang, and the figure ahead staggered and dropped. I ducked back as a gun opened up with a rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat. Bullets chewed into brickwork and went whizzing overhead. I scrambled away, then went running back, keeping my head down.

Anne was still where I’d left her. ‘Got one,’ I whispered, crouching next to her.

‘He’s dying,’ Anne said. There was a faraway look in her eyes as she looked back towards where I’d shot the man, then she took a deep breath and shook her head. ‘The three at the front are moving up.’

I ejected the empty clip and loaded the spare. It was the last: ten rounds, plus one in the chamber. I wished I’d had time to grab more weapons. Time to improvise. ‘Can you—? Shit. Back!’

Anne moved without my having to grab her this time. We just made it to the ventilators before the chimney we’d been hiding behind exploded in flame. It wasn’t a fireball: the flame kept burning and spreading, even though there was no fuel.

There was the stuttering of gunfire, and bullets whined overhead. Anne ducked down, and I swore silently. Bastard’s trying to burn us out. Well, why not? It had worked for him before. One gunman ahead, two more and the fire mage behind. But if we could break past the single man, we might be able to make it to the railway …

Only chance we’ve got. I dug out a pair of gold discs from my pocket. ‘Anne,’ I said quietly. The flames were still spreading towards us; we had maybe twenty seconds. ‘When I say go, run forward and right. Draw the fire of the guy ahead. I’ll put up a forcewall.’

Anne looked up at me for a second, then nodded. I tossed the discs ahead and to the right, lobbing them over the chimney. The sound of them landing on the roof was muffled by the roar of the flames. I took a glance back; the fire was less than twenty feet away and the heat was scorching my skin. ‘Go!’

Anne darted up and forward, leaving herself clearly exposed to the man ahead. I called out the command word just as I saw the muzzle flash in the darkness. The wall sprang up, invisible and impenetrable, angled to block the man’s line of fire. Anne was a slim shadow in the darkness, running out of cover towards the back of the roof, then coming to a skidding halt at the edge.

I was already moving, going left, sprinting the twenty feet to the next stack of chimneys. I rounded the edge to see the man who’d been shooting at Anne, a black-clad shape lit by the glow of the flames. I was standing almost within arm’s reach, and yet he was too fixed on his target to notice. His rifle clicked dry and he crouched down, fumbling for a new magazine.

I aimed my pistol at the side of the man’s head and fired. He dropped without a sound. ‘Anne!’ I shouted.

Anne reversed course, running back around the forcewall, silhouetted against the blazing fire behind. I could still hear gunfire over the roar of the flames, and as she cleared the edge she stumbled. ‘Anne!’ I shouted again.

Anne caught herself and kept running, making it to my chimney. ‘Are you—?’ I started to say.

‘I’m fine.’ Anne’s voice was harsh. ‘Come on.’

I didn’t argue. We ran down the rooftops. I could hear sirens in the distance. A little further and we’d be—

Fire, pain, death. I grabbed Anne’s arm, jerking her back and making her gasp. A red spark shot down from above, landing ahead of us and erupting in a blast of flame.

I spun around to see what looked like a fiery angel soaring behind us in the night sky. The fire mage was gliding on wings of orange flame, hanging over the blaze on the apartment roof behind us; he was just at the top of his arc and starting to descend. I lifted my gun and fired, but I didn’t have time to aim and the mage sent another fireball arrowing down. I dived, but it’s hard to dodge area spells and this time I didn’t quite make it. Searing pain flashed in my leg and arm and I went tumbling to land behind another parapet wall.

From the other side of the wall I heard the thud as the fire mage landed on the roof. He was maybe thirty feet away. My arm and leg were screaming at me, but it was my left side that had taken the burn and I’d kept hold of the gun. The wall was a couple of feet high and blocked my line of sight, but I could get a fix on him with my divination. Fire shields are great for mêlées, but they don’t stop bullets. All I needed to do was get off a shot—

Burning death jumped out at me. In every future in which I rose to shoot, I died, the flesh searing off my bones. The fire mage was waiting and the instant I came into view he’d see my body heat and incinerate me. I searched for an angle I could rise from. Couldn’t throw— Shit! I needed a distraction—

There was a low hiss to my right.

I looked. Anne was lying flat behind the same wall, maybe ten feet to my side. She was looking straight at me, and her eyes were steady. She pointed at herself, then up and over the wall.

I stared at her for a second, then my eyes went wide. No! I shook my head, suddenly panicked, wanting to talk but afraid of being heard. Don’t—

Anne took a deep breath, then bounded to her feet and jumped over the wall.

I felt the stutter of a spell as the futures flickered. The fire mage had been focused on me; he hadn’t been prepared for Anne to charge. The futures in which I’d be incinerated vanished and I came up to one knee, levelling my gun.

Anne was running straight towards the fire mage, still wreathed in his flame shield. She was moving fast. The distance from the parapet wall to the fire mage was thirty feet, and Anne was already less than a second away from reaching him.

She wasn’t fast enough.

A red spark flashed out and Anne disappeared in a bloom of flame, just as my gun sighted on the mage. I aimed for the centre of the fiery shape and opened fire, shooting as fast as I could, bang bang bang. I saw the figure stagger, then death flashed in my futures. Another fireball, and I couldn’t move fast enough to dodge it. I dropped flat and curled into a ball, trying to take the blast on my back armour.

Fire magic surged. I heard a whoompf, horribly loud and far too close. Searing heat washed over me …

… and nothing.

I held quite still. I didn’t dare move; I was afraid to find out how badly I’d been burned. All of a sudden, the rooftop was quiet.

I looked into the futures in which I stayed where I was. I could still hear the sirens from below, and I looked into the extended futures, not quite able to believe it. Still nothing. I opened my eyes and looked around. Behind me and to the right, a patch of rooftop was glowing with heat, fragments of paint turned to glowing embers. The spell had missed, and I stared at it, fascinated at just how close I’d come to dying. If that had burst above—

Anne!

I pulled myself up to look around. From where we’d come, the roof of the apartment was still burning, but the blaze was dying away. There was no sign of the fire mage. But on the roof just ahead, a dark figure was lying still.

My heart lurched. Forgetting about the fire mage, I ran forward. As I reached Anne, I smelled a too-familiar scent, thick and sweet and putrid. It’s the smell of burned flesh, and once you know what it is you never forget it. Full of dread, I reached down to touch Anne’s body. Oh God, please don’t be dead, please don’t—

Anne jerked, and I pulled away. She rolled over on to her back, and the sight of her made me flinch. Her clothes were black and irregular, and so was the skin of her hands and face. It was too dark for me to see clearly, but I knew it was bad. But she could heal herself, if I could just get her somewhere …

Gate. I’d grabbed my emergency gear from my table, and one of the items was a gate stone to Anne’s flat. ‘Anne,’ I said quietly. ‘I’m going to gate us to your flat. So you can heal. Okay?’

There was no reaction for a second, then Anne’s hand found mine and she squeezed. Her skin felt wrong, cracked and wet. I didn’t let myself think about why. I kept hold of her, while with my other hand I dug through my pocket for the small piece of carved wood. ‘I’m gating,’ I said, forcing my voice to keep steady. ‘Just hold on.’

Anne squeezed my hand again.

I held the gate stone and concentrated, sending power flowing into the item. I’ve got very little talent for gate magic, but I’m good with focuses, and over the past year one of the things I’ve spent my time on has been practising with gate stones. It paid off now. Light bloomed and an oval-shaped portal appeared in mid-air above the rooftop. ‘I’m going to lift you,’ I said to Anne. I knew this was going to be agonising for her. ‘Hang on.’

Anne gave my hand another squeeze, then let go. I slid one arm under her shoulders, slid the hand with the gate stone under her knees, then heaved her up. I felt Anne’s muscles go rigid, but she didn’t make a sound. The gate was holding steady and I took one last look back over my shoulder.

The fire on the apartment roof had died away and I could see clearly back to my shop. Flames were leaping into the sky from where the roof of my flat was. There was no sign of the fire mage or the other gunmen. Maybe they’d jumped off the roof, or gated out, or maybe they’d died and their bodies were somewhere in the darkness; I didn’t know, and right now I didn’t care. I could see the edge of a fire engine below, and jets of water were spraying up towards my flat, but just from a glance I knew there was no way they could save the building. My shop and flat were gone.

Holding Anne in my arms, I stepped through the gate and let it close behind me.