Chosen

Chapter 14

It was a few days later.

I stood under the trees of the South London cemetery. The sky was overcast, low clouds forming a thick blanket that held in the heat, and the weather was close and humid and tiring. I held still, the tree obscuring my silhouette enough to make me easy to miss, and watched the people gathered around the new grave in the far corner. It wasn’t a large crowd—less than a dozen—and the priest was reading from a small leather-bound book. I couldn’t make out what he was saying and I didn’t want to get close enough to hear. Up ahead, through the legs of the crowd, I could see Catherine’s grave, her parents’ tombstones just behind. A new grave marker had been added next to hers, of the same size and shape.

I’ve never been to many funerals, though God knows I’ve been involved often enough in what causes them. When someone bites it in my line of work it tends not to get advertised, either because no one wants the publicity, because there isn’t enough left to bury, or both. It had been a long time since I’d been to one, and I hadn’t really known what to expect. Few had shown up. Either Will’s lifestyle had left him without many friends, or they just hadn’t wanted to come. Those who had were either young—his age—or sixty or more.

You’d think there’d be something more dramatic about the passing of someone from this world to the next, but I guess by the time the funeral comes it’s all done. All that’s left is to go through with the ritual. So I stood alone and watched, and the priest read through the ceremony and the guests listened in silence, until eventually it was done and the small crowd began to disperse, people splitting up in twos and threes. Maybe it was my imagination but they seemed to move a little more briskly as they walked away, as if they were returning to the world of the living and leaving their brush with death behind. None came in my direction, for which I was glad. I stayed in the shadows and let them pass by in the sun, going back to their lives.

There was one person, though, whom I couldn’t hide from. I’d seen him in the crowd, standing next to a girl I didn’t recognise, and I knew he’d seen me. It was what he did, after all. I didn’t make a move towards him and as the crowd broke up I expected him to disappear, but instead he said something to the girl and walked towards me. He stopped just outside the shade of the tree, as if afraid to come out of the light.

Lee looked very different from when I’d first seen him. It had been less than ten days since we’d first met on the roof of my flat and he’d aged harshly in that brief time. There was a haunted look in his eyes now, and in his funeral clothes he looked less youthful, more careworn. It’s one thing to see someone forced to grow up; it’s something else to make it happen. Lee didn’t speak at first and neither did I. We looked at each other for a while. “Why are you here?” Lee said at last.

“Not for you, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“You killed them,” Lee said. I expected him to be angry but he just sounded bitter and tired. “Those two might have done it but you were the one who set it up.”

“You shouldn’t have tried to kill me first.”

“It was Will who wanted you dead. Not us.”

“Then why’d you follow him?”

Lee was silent. “You know, everyone’s been talking as though this was just between me and Will,” I said. “You know what I think? The one who really made all this happen was you.”

Lee stared at me. “What? I just—”

“You just find people. Like I just found Will’s sister.” I looked at Lee. “I saw how Dhruv and Will treated you. Your magic isn’t for combat so they acted like you were less important. But you were the one who was really driving everything. Everywhere the Nightstalkers went, they went because you pointed them there.”

“I just did what he told me to.”

“Why? Because it’s not your place to question orders?” I shook my head. “You could have stopped this anytime. All you had to do was say no.”

“And you didn’t have to get them all killed,” Lee said bitterly.

“Maybe you’re right,” I said wearily. “So what are you going to do, Lee? The same thing as Will? Go away and nurse your hatred until you can gather more people and do it all over again? Is that how it works? Revenge for revenge, over and over until everyone’s dead? When does it stop?”

I held Lee’s gaze and we matched stares. For a moment I saw anger flickering behind his eyes and then it faded, becoming something sadder, harder to recognise. “If I were Deleo, I’d just kill you,” I said. “But I want to believe that it doesn’t have to end that way. That something better can come out of all this.” I shrugged. “I guess it’s up to you whether I’m right.”

I turned and walked away, heading for the cemetery gates. Lee watched me go.

The police tape around my shop was gone but the sign on the door said CLOSED. I’d had the talk with the police, and it had been exactly as unpleasant as I’d been expecting. They couldn’t really charge me with anything—it’s not illegal under U.K. law to get your house blown up, at least not yet—but you didn’t exactly have to be a genius to know something was going on. They questioned me for a long time, and only after it became clear that I wasn’t going to tell them anything did they finally give up in disgust. From the Council I’d heard only silence.

Inside, my shop and flat were quiet. Variam had moved out; the room he’d been living in had been one of the ones hit by the bomb and in any case he’d had a new offer. While I was being interrogated by the police Variam had gone to meet Dr. Shirland’s Keeper, and things must have gone well because Variam had sent me a message saying he’d been accepted on probation. As part of the deal he’d moved into apprentice accommodation. I hadn’t met the Keeper in question but I was curious as to what he’d said at their meeting. Either he’d been very persuasive, or Vari was just getting less suspicious.

Luna had gone back to her classes. She’d probably been the least affected out of all of us, and when I’d spoken to her yesterday she’d told me that none of the other apprentices seemed to have heard what had happened. It wouldn’t last—sooner or later, word would get around. The only one whom I hadn’t seen was Anne. I’d met Luna and Variam at Arachne’s cave and told them the story, but Anne hadn’t been there and I hadn’t seen her since. But looking through the futures, I saw that Anne was upstairs in the guest room and her door was open. I climbed the stairs to the landing, knowing that she’d have seen me coming. As I reached the doorway I slowed and stopped.

Anne doesn’t have many possessions but in the months she’s stayed with me she’s managed to take the little guest room and leave a definite impression of her personality. There had been potted plants by the window and clothes neatly folded on the chair, and a smell of leaves and flowers. Now the plants were gone, the ornaments were gone, and the last of the clothes were packed in a suitcase lying open on the bed. “You’re leaving?” I said in surprise. It wasn’t the most brilliant comment but I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Anne was silent for a moment. She was standing with a pullover in her arms; as I watched she tucked it carefully into the suitcase. “I didn’t think you’d be back this soon.”

I looked at Anne. She didn’t meet my eyes but kept packing her clothes. “Where are you going?”

“Sonder’s found me somewhere,” Anne said. “I can stay there a little while.”

I noticed that she didn’t tell me where. “Why?”

Anne paused, not looking at me. “Vari told me what happened.”

I had a hollow, sinking feeling. Somewhere at the back of my mind I’d known this was coming. “You killed them,” Anne said, her voice flat.

“Technically I only killed one of them.”

Anne looked up at me, anger flashing in her eyes. “Setting them up to be murdered by Dark mages isn’t any better! You promised you weren’t going to kill them!”

“I tried,” I snapped. “Okay? I tried talking and I tried running and I tried calling the Council. You think I wanted it to end like this?”

“You could have found another way.”

“What other way? What was I supposed to do that would stop seven magically gifted assassins? I don’t have that kind of power, Anne! I can’t walk through bullets and knock people out with a touch. The only way I could beat Will and his friends was to call in help.”

“We would have helped you! But not to do something like this!”

“And that was why I called in Cinder and Rachel. Because they’re killers and you aren’t. Because Will wanted revenge on Rachel as well. This was always going to happen—I just made sure it happened first.”

“How can you talk about them like that?” Anne looked like she was about to cry. “They’re people, not things! How could you just let them die?”

“Because they were trying to kill me!” I snarled. “Because I survive and that’s what I do! I don’t want to fight but if it has to be me or them I’m going to make damn sure I’m the one still alive on the other side. That’s why I’m still here! Why are you so surprised? It’s not like it’s the first time!”

Anne stared at me. “What?”

“Remember last year?” I said. “When those gunmen came after you? When you were dying in that flat and I went to deal with them, what did you think I was doing? I didn’t hear you complaining when you got away alive!”

“That was different!”

“Why? Because they were after you, not me?”

Anne jerked back at that. “How can you be like this?”

“What kind of person did you think I was?” I demanded. “I told you the truth about what I used to be. How the hell could you listen to that and still have any illusions about the kind of man I am?”

“Because I thought you were different now!” Anne shouted. “I thought you were better than me!”

I stared at Anne in disbelief. “Where the hell did you get that idea?”

Anne looked away, her hair hiding her face. “Anne, I’ve never thought I was better than any of you,” I said. “Why do you think I tried to keep the three of you out of it? If someone had to take the weight, better it should be me . . .”

“You shouldn’t have,” Anne said. Her voice was muffled and I knew she was crying. She shut the suitcase and picked it up, then walked towards the door, head down, aiming to pass me.

“You’re just going to walk out?” I demanded. “That’s it?” Anne didn’t lift her head or stop, and as she moved to go by me I felt a sudden surge of fury. I slammed my hand into the wall, blocking her path. “No!” I snapped at her. “At least tell me! You owe me that much!”

Anne flinched back, an instinctive, frightened move. She looked up at me with a tear-streaked face, so close I could smell her. There was something in her eyes I didn’t understand, a complex mix of emotions, but one thing I was sure of was that she was afraid, and my anger disappeared in a sick, miserable feeling. Anne shouldn’t be afraid of me. Standing close like this, she was the one who was threatening. Her life magic was far more dangerous than mine . . . but she wouldn’t use it as a weapon, not like this. That was why I’d always felt safe around her; I’d known I could trust her.

But she didn’t trust me. Not anymore.

I let my arm drop and stepped away. Anne walked past me onto the landing. For a moment she hesitated and I saw the futures flicker as if she wanted to say something, and then she bowed her head and started down the stairs. I watched her go until she disappeared below the landing. The sound of her footsteps crossing the floor drifted up from below, then the shop door closed and I was alone.

With everyone gone my flat felt empty, and I wandered aimlessly through the rooms. My bedroom was still missing a roof; the rubble had been cleared but I hadn’t arranged for repairs. I needed to start the work of rebuilding my flat but I couldn’t muster the energy. The living room had been emptied of furniture and I couldn’t help but remember it as it had been, full of games and talk and laughter. It felt like a long time ago, and now the room seemed gloomy and bare.

I fixed myself a meal in the kitchen. It seemed to take a long time and when I was done it tasted bland. I couldn’t help comparing it to Anne’s cooking. I washed up and went back to the living room. I had work I should be doing, but I couldn’t make myself care. The conversations with Lee and with Anne kept going round and round in my head and my flat felt lonely and depressing. At last I gave up and headed to Hampstead Heath.

I found Arachne in her cave, sitting at rest. For once she wasn’t working on any clothes and she greeted me as if it were just another day. Walking into her cavern didn’t exactly make me feel happy, but at least the empty feeling didn’t get any worse.

“Well, the armour worked perfectly,” I said after we’d finished with the small talk. I felt listless but didn’t want to show it. “I think it’s accepted me, too.” I looked at Arachne. “Did you know it was going to . . . ?”

“Imbued items make their own choice,” Arachne said. “But I knew what it was looking for. You aren’t wearing it?”

“I’ve gotten a bit edgy about these things lately.”

“The armour will be safe,” Arachne said. “I designed it with that in mind. It’ll grow with you too, as long as you spend enough time with it.” She tilted her head at me. “But that isn’t what’s bothering you.”

I was silent. “Anne’s gone,” I said finally. “I’m not sure she’s ever coming back.” I told Arachne the story, not leaving anything out.

Arachne sat thoughtfully for a little while once I was finished. “With regard to the adepts,” she said at last, “how do you feel about what you’ve done?”

“How do I feel?” I sighed. “Right now . . . Mostly, just empty. I feel like to do what I did to Will and the Nightstalkers, I had to kill a bit of myself. All these years I’ve tried to prove to myself that I’m not the same person as I was back then, and it’s like it was all for nothing. I wish it had ended some other way but it’s not like I’ve got anyone else to blame, is it? And . . . I don’t want to admit it, but there’s a part of me that doesn’t regret it one bit. That thinks that they hurt me, they tried to kill me, they deserved everything they got. And then there’s a bit of me that’s afraid feeling that way means that I really am a monster. That I can kill a bunch of kids and be glad they’re dead.” I was silent for a moment. “I’ve driven Anne away and probably Sonder too. They’re probably the two most good mages I know, and they’re both gone. What does that say about me?”

“You’re afraid of becoming like Richard,” Arachne said. “That you’re following his path, just as Tobruk and Rachel were.”

I smiled slightly. “You always get right to the heart of it, don’t you?”

“I am a little older than you, you know.” Arachne’s opaque eyes studied me. “Would you like some advice?”

I nodded.

“Well then.” Arachne settled back into a more comfortable position, rearranging her eight legs. “First, though it may be little consolation at this moment, I don’t believe there was very much else you could have done. As soon as these adepts made the decision to pursue you, someone’s death was inevitable; the only question was whose. I don’t think there were any truly good solutions to this problem. Only bad and less bad.”

“I keep thinking about what Anne said, whether there was some other way. Knockout magic, some sort of trick . . .”

“Perhaps. But perhaps not. And even if you could have disarmed them, what would you have done afterwards? It’s not as though you could have kept them prisoner. You aren’t invincible, Alex. They nearly killed you once, and the longer you hesitated the better the chance they would have finished the job. And personally, I prefer having you alive.”

“Thanks.”

“Second.” Arachne lifted a leg. “Because you did genuinely try to resolve this peacefully, and because you resorted to lethal force only at the last extreme of defending your own life, I think you will eventually be able to live with what you’ve done. You’ll never be happy about it and you will feel the weight of it for a long, long time but you will survive, as you have survived before.”

I was silent. “Third,” Arachne said. “It seems to me that much of the reason for your unhappiness is not just because of how you see your actions, but how you believe they are seen by others. Particularly by your friends.”

I nodded.

“In which case you can take some consolation in knowing that the worst is over. You’ve shown Anne and Variam and Luna and Sonder the darkest side of your nature and what you are most ashamed of in your past. No matter how painful it may have been they know the worst of you now, and they can come to terms with it themselves. If they choose to accept you, knowing what they do, then your friendship will be stronger for it, and nothing else you do is likely to test it for a long time.”

“If.”

“If,” Arachne agreed. “But that decision is theirs, not yours.”

I nodded again. “Fourth,” Arachne said. “As I’m sure you know, the news of how you dealt with the Nightstalkers will spread. It may seem to you as though your sins are being paraded but, once the excitement has died away, you may find that the effect on your reputation has been helpful.”

“Helpful?”

“You know how magical society works, Alex,” Arachne said soberly. “Being known as a ruthless, dangerous man willing to kill those who threaten him has its benefits. After seeing what happened to the Nightstalkers, anyone else thinking of coming after you is going to hesitate.”

“Or they’ll just bring more firepower.”

“Perhaps—but this should at least scare away the little fish, and I don’t think you’ll be similarly challenged for some time. And it might work to Luna’s benefit too. You’ve told me before about your worries that the further she goes with her training, the more problems she’ll face for being an adept. Well, after this story spreads, I think it’s considerably less likely that anyone will choose to make an issue of it.”

“So—what? If I’m a killer, I might as well enjoy the perks of the job?”

“Fifth,” Arachne said, “and most important. You’re afraid of becoming like Richard.”

I sat up and nodded.

“In which case I would suggest that the very fact that you are afraid of that is good evidence that you are not like Richard. As long as you are afraid of becoming like him, as long as you consciously choose not to be like him, then you never truly will. It is our choices that define us. Richard understood that. He could suggest and he could tempt, but he knew the final decision was always yours.”

“And the things I’ve done?”

“Not everything you’ve done has been dark, Alex.” Arachne lifted her legs, as though ticking points off. “You chose to help Luna in the hunt for the fateweaver, when you could have hidden yourself away and been safe. You saved me at the risk of your own life when confronting Belthas. You protected Anne and Variam when they were in danger at Fountain Reach. Even in dealing with the Nightstalkers you were acting in your friends’ interests. You took the risks and the responsibility upon yourself. If you’ve done things to be ashamed of, you’ve done things to be proud of as well.”

“Do you think it balances out?”

“Would I have stayed with you all this time if I didn’t?” Spiders can’t really smile, but Arachne sounded as if that was what she was doing. “Although . . . if it concerns you so much, why not do something about it?”

I looked at Arachne curiously. “Like what?”

“If you’re worried that your good deeds are outweighed by your bad ones, why not do more of them? You’ve spent a long time trying not to be like Richard. Perhaps it’s time you started considering what sort of person you do want to be.” Arachne rose. “Think it over.”

That evening found me back home, sketching the first notes and plans for what would eventually be a new set of blueprints for my flat. I wasn’t going to simply rebuild it—the Nightstalkers’ little demolition exercise had done a good job of exposing the weaknesses in my home defences and I had several upgrades in mind. A flicker in the futures caught my attention, and a moment later I heard the sound of the shop door being unlocked below. I looked up, then went downstairs.

Luna and Variam were just switching on the lights in the shop. “Vari?” I said in surprise. He was dressed in a hand-me-down set of formal robes that almost fit him but not quite. In a weird sort of way he looked like the mage equivalent of someone who’d just come home from the office. “I thought you were in Scotland?”

“I was,” Variam said cheerfully. “Knocked off early. I can gate now, remember?”

“Haven’t you moved out?”

“Well, yeah, but I can still visit, right?”

“We figured you could use some company,” Luna said. “Unless you want to be left alone?”

I looked between the two of them and smiled. “Come on up.”

They came up, and the three of us spent the evening together. We all had stories to tell: Variam of his first few days as a Light apprentice, and Luna of what had happened while I was gone. We cooked dinner together, and after Luna and Variam had caused the expected culinary disaster we spent another half hour deciding where to order takeaway. It wasn’t the same, but it wasn’t so bad.

I dreamed that night.

I saw Rachel—or perhaps I was Rachel. She was walking across a grassy ridge in the starlight, and in some strange way I both watched her from outside and at the same time felt and moved as she did. The sky was clear with no moon and the only light was from the stars, yet I recognised the silhouette of Richard’s mansion, a black shadow in the darkness. The sight filled me with a strange mix of emotions, familiar and alien: fear, anticipation, a distant sadness. As Rachel neared the front door she spoke a word and the door swung open, for she’d crafted these wards and they obeyed her commands.

Through the corridor, down the stairs, and into the darkness, a sphere of sea-green light forming to light the way. The glow backlit Rachel’s face strangely; she wore no mask this time, and in the greenish light her features were beautiful but cold, with little trace of feeling or warmth. Through the chapel, and now Rachel’s path curved to skirt a patch of floor. To me it looked the same as any other but to Rachel’s eyes it was the place in which Shireen had died, and a trace of her blood still stained the stone. Just for a moment I felt another presence in the ancient shrine, and I thought I heard an echo of footsteps behind us.

Through the corridors and the laboratory, past the cells and through the labyrinth. The signs of the battle still scarred the benches but the bodies were gone. Maybe the dust and ashes in the corners might have been a part of them once but no one would be able to tell, not anymore. Still Rachel walked on, her feet picking out the paths as though she’d walked them a hundred times before, until at last she came to the room at the very end of the labyrinth, the final one to have been completed all those years ago.

The room was smooth and circular, pillars supporting the ceiling, all illuminated in the green light of Rachel’s spell. At the centre of the room was a wide dais. Three black hemispheres protruded from the stone, forming a triangle. Rachel stopped a little way from the dais and waited.

Time passed. Rachel waited, paced. Twice she looked towards the exit, as though on the verge of leaving, but each time she stayed. Suddenly she snapped her head around and an instant later I felt what she did: a slow surge of magical power, growing stronger.

With a faint hiss black energy erupted from the dais, dark lightning crackling to join the three hemispheres in a triangle. At the centre of the triangle the air darkened, a black oval appearing in midair. Rachel stood stiff, as though paralysed. The black oval grew, stretched. For a moment it was almost transparent and there was the hint of something visible on the other side, then a man was stepping through, alighting on the dais. His feet touched the stone and the black lightning snapped off, the portal vanishing into nothingness. The man was ordinary-looking in every way; but for his entrance no one would have looked at him twice.

Rachel moved first, bowing her head. A complex mixture of emotions flickered across her face and were gone. “Master.”

“Deleo,” Richard said with a smile. “It’s good to be back.”

And I woke with a gasp, heart pounding in my chest.