Cursed

chapter 10

I came awake with a gasp, my heart pounding. Sonder had pulled a chair close to my bed and as I jerked upwards he flinched and nearly went over backwards, his arms flailing before he recovered his balance. “Ah! Alex! You scared me.”

“Jesus,” I muttered. My heart was thumping against my chest and I was shivering. I could still feel the bone-freezing cold of the gateway. I pulled my cloak around myself, trying to get warm.

“Alex?” Sonder said. Behind his glasses, he looked worried. “You okay?”

“Freaking, goddamn …” I glared at Sonder. “If Luna EVER invites you into Elsewhere, say no!”

“Um. Okay?”

I stayed hugging myself a little longer, waiting for my heartbeat to slow and the deadly cold to fade. Just being back in my room helped and I felt my shivering slow as my cloak drew away the chill. “What did I miss?”

“Cinder’s back.” Sonder hesitated. “I … think he’s getting impatient.”

“Then let’s not keep him waiting.” I swung my legs off the bed and stood up. I nearly fell straight back down but managed to catch the table and kept hold of it until I’d stopped wobbling.

“Um-” Sonder said.

“She’s okay,” I said as I headed for the door. “And I know where to find her.”

Cinder was waiting in my living room, not quite pacing. Luckily, I had what he wanted. Five minutes at my computer found us a map of Black Craeg and five minutes more found the only place that fit Rachel’s description. We geared up and I led us out the back door, locking it behind me. Once we were in the back alley, Cinder opened a gate to a staging point and we stepped through.

We travelled though a desolate, broken forest, then an abandoned quarry. At the end of the quarry Cinder raised his hand to cast another gate and I held my breath. Gating to an area you’ve never seen is dangerous. If Cinder messed this up …

But he didn’t. The black oval flickered briefly, then steadied and opened, revealing a dark slope. I went first and Cinder brought up the rear, letting the gate close.

The first thing I noticed was the cold. In London the autumn weather was only cool, but we were five hundred miles north and two thousand feet up. I’ve been to Scotland a few times and I’ve grown to like the clean, fresh scent of the air up here, but it’s still bloody freezing. I pulled my cloak tighter to stop myself from shivering and looked around.

There wasn’t much to see. I could tell the view would be spectacular by day but it was a cloudy night with no cities or towns and the visibility was only one step above pitch-black. I could see we were on the side of a hill or mountain and that was it. I closed my eyes.

“Where are we?” Sonder whispered. A chill wind was blowing and I could hear his teeth chattering.

“Wait,” I whispered back. Something about the black emptiness made us keep our voices down. “Don’t show a light.”

I looked through the futures ahead of us, seeing our paths branch out in every direction as we explored outwards, making our way down, up, and across the mountainside. Most of the choices were dark; a handful led to the lights of a building. I followed them closer-

“Perfect,” I said. “You dropped us right on target, Cinder.”

I felt Sonder looking around. “Um-”

“We couldn’t land too close,” I said. “Cinder put us a little way around the mountain.” I took Sonder’s arm and pointed upslope towards the dark mass above us. “Belthas’s manor is over that shoulder.”

Cinder started walking towards it, and I followed. Sonder looked around at the darkness one last time, muttered something under his breath, and came after.

Crossing a mountain in the dark isn’t fun. I had the easiest time with my divination magic and Cinder toughed it out on brute strength. Sonder found it hardest and before long was lagging behind. But it wasn’t a long trip, and after only a little while longer Cinder came over a rise and stopped. I reached his side and we looked down the northeast face of the Black Craeg.

Belthas’s manor was most of the way up the mountain, about three hundred feet downslope from our perch. Its windows were lit, turning it into a splash of bright light against the blackness around. I could see two storeys from our angle but as I scanned with my magic I realised there was a lower level, built into the slope. Luna had said her cell was in the basement; she must be below.

Cinder looked at me. “So?”

“Let me scout it,” I said.

I’d expected an argument but Cinder only nodded. I crouched down and focused, searching through the futures of us going down into the radius of those lights. Sonder caught up a few minutes later, breathing hard. He looked at me, then down at the manor, and settled down to wait.

Eventually, I stirred. “There are two guards outside. One at the front, one at the back. At least eight or ten more in the building. There’s a gate ward over the manor; gate magic is going to be difficult from about fifty feet away and impossible inside the walls. There’s an alarm system and attack wards too. Belthas is on the top floor in a shielded room.”

Cinder looked at me silently. Sonder looked taken aback. “That’s … a lot.”

“Yeah,” I said. I checked my watch.

“How long have we got?” Sonder said.

“Until Belthas finishes the ritual and kills Arachne …” I calculated. “One hour, thirty-five minutes.”

“When do we go?” Cinder asked.

“We’ll want to hit it in about an hour,” I said. Looking around, I found a rock to sit on. “Till then, we wait.”

Sonder looked at me in surprise. “Why?”

Cinder glanced at me, then leant against a boulder. I knew he understood but didn’t want to explain. “Right now Belthas is getting ready to start his ritual,” I said. “If we attack he’ll be on top of us in two minutes flat. But if we wait until he’s started he won’t be able to come after us without abandoning the ritual, which will screw it up. The closer he is to the end of the ritual, the less he can afford to be disturbed. He’ll leave the battle to his guards and wards and hope he can finish before we can break through.”

“But the later we leave it,” Sonder pointed out, “the more likely he will finish before we break through.”

I nodded and Sonder fell silent as he realised what I was saying. Too early and we’d have to fight Belthas and his guards at once. Too late and Arachne would be dead.

“What’s the plan for getting past the guards?” Sonder asked eventually.

I sighed. “We kill however many it takes before the rest run. Somewhere between most of them and all of them.”

Sonder stared at me. “But …”

I didn’t answer. “They’re Council security,” Sonder said. “Okay, I guess some of them are with Belthas, but … they’re loyal to the Council. They’re just doing their jobs.”

“Do you know any spells that’ll knock out ten to fifteen armed men?” I said. “Or any way of getting them to surrender and let us through?”

“No, but-”

“Neither do I,” I said. “And neither does Cinder. If I was an enchanter or a mind mage I could cloud their senses. If I could use life or death magic I could disrupt their bodies and knock them out. But I’m not and I can’t. The only thing I’ve got that can drop them fast enough to be safe is this gun. If we screw around taking prisoners we’re going to get shot.” I paused. “Actually, there’s a pretty good chance we’re going to get shot anyway.”

“There’s got to be something else,” Sonder argued. “I don’t want anyone to get killed.”

Cinder made a disgusted noise. I didn’t look at him. “Belthas is down there,” I told Sonder. “Along with at least a dozen armed guards in a warded building, and that’s not counting Meredith and Martin and whatever else he’s got up his sleeve.”

“I know,” Sonder said. “That doesn’t mean we should try to kill them!”

“The point is,” I said quietly, “that the odds are against us. Really against us. Even if we don’t make any mistakes, there’s a good chance that anyone who goes into that manor is going to end up dead. The more restrictions we go under, the bigger that chance gets. When you’re playing odds this long, the only way to win is to use every edge you’ve got.”

I could feel Cinder’s eyes on me. Sonder looked desperately unhappy. I couldn’t really blame him; I knew it felt to him like an impossible situation. But the truth is, it’s not about what’s possible. It’s what you’re willing to live with.

But I might as well cut him a break. “Anyway, it’s not up to you,” I said. “We’re going down there, and when we do there’s going to be a fight no matter what.” I sat down on one of the rocks. “Take a look around but make sure you’re not seen.”

Sonder and Cinder moved away and I was left alone in the darkness, which suited me just fine. I scanned through the futures in which I went down there, skipping over the parts where the strands branched into a blur of combat. I didn’t try to see how it would go-fights are too chaotic to see more than a few seconds ahead. Instead I searched for openings, doors, alarms, building a mental map of the manor below.

While my mind looked through the futures, my hands moved over the weapon at my side. Most of Belthas’s men had been carrying submachine guns of a type I vaguely recognised as MP5s. Garrick had been carrying a model I hadn’t seen before, square and blocky with only the tip of the muzzle protruding from the gun, and it was this one I’d taken. It was less than a foot and a half long, made of some black polymer which was surprisingly light, with a retractable stock and laser sight. The bottom of the magazine stuck out from the handle. It held thirty rounds and I had three more full magazines stowed away. One of the men had been carrying a 1911 pistol like mine, with the addition of a silencer, and I’d taken that too. I’d also brought a handful of more dangerous things in my backpack, riding awkwardly under my cloak.

I’ve never been all that comfortable with guns. Partly it’s for practical reasons-they’re illegal, for a start, and they don’t usually get good reactions from mages-but it’s also that I just don’t like the things. Carrying a gun makes me uneasy in a way that carrying a knife doesn’t, and if I’m going out I’ll almost never take one. But I’ve used them before, and even if I’m not as good a shot as I am with throwing, I can hit a target pretty well. When you can’t use offensive magic, guns are a big equaliser, and sometimes you can’t afford to be fussy.

I sensed Cinder returning well in advance. Sonder was still back up the slope, struggling with his conscience. I waited for Cinder to get close before glancing up. He was looking down at me, arms folded. “Ice wards.”

I nodded.

“Plan?”

“I sneak inside,” I said. “I’ll try for Deleo and Luna, get as far as I can. When the shooting starts, I’ll open up a way in and you do what you do best. We go for the girls first, Belthas second.”

Cinder nodded. We both knew he’d follow my orders only as long as they suited him. I took a breath. “One more thing. If I don’t make it out, make sure Sonder and Luna get away safe. I’ll do the same for Deleo if anything happens to you.”

Cinder looked at me. Standing in the darkness, it was hard to make out his expression. An icy wind was blowing, but Cinder let it sweep over him as though he didn’t notice. Probably he didn’t.

“Why?” Cinder said.

“Why what?”

“Help them.”

“Who?”

Cinder just looked at me, as if refusing to answer such a stupid question. “Because I want to,” I said.

Cinder studied me for a moment, then nodded in the direction Sonder had gone. “You’re not one of them.”

I was silent. “Talk, don’t fight,” Cinder said. “Don’t get your hands dirty. How they think. You don’t.”

“I’m not exactly the fighting type.”

“Bullshit,” Cinder said. “You act it. Fool some people. Fooled me once. You’re a predator. You just hide it.”

I raised an eyebrow at Cinder. “Pretty weak for a predator.”

“Yeah?” Cinder said. “Last ten years. How many people tried to kill you? Don’t mean a skirmish. A proper try.”

I shrugged. “Haven’t kept count.”

Cinder nodded. “How many still alive?”

The question brought me up short. A few people had tried to kill me over the years. Actually, more than a few. Cinder and Rachel didn’t really count-they’d always been more interested in getting their piece-but Khazad did. So did Tobruk. Levistus had ordered my death through Griff and Thirteen, and Morden had done the same through Onyx. Then Garrick had tried to shoot me a few days ago, and there had been that bomb-maker at the Deptford factory. There were more-a lot more. As for how many were still alive, the answer was …

…not that many.

Most of them were dead.

In fact, most of them were dead quite specifically because of me.

I don’t often look back over my life. Between paying attention to the present and looking forwards into the future, I don’t have much time left to look over my past choices. Now I did and realised what picture they made, and it wasn’t all that reassuring.

And I was about to add a whole bunch of new names to the list. If everything went to plan, a lot of people down there were going to die. And as I thought it over, I realised I was going to go through with it. At the end of the day, given a choice between Belthas and his men on one side, and Luna and Arachne on the other, I was going to pick Luna and Arachne, and if it meant Belthas and his men dead then that was what I’d do. I knew exactly how ugly and vicious the battle was going to be and I was going to do it anyway.

I didn’t know what that said about me. Maybe later, I’d think about it. Right now all I cared about was getting the job done. “What do you want, Cinder?” I said. “You want me to back out?”

Cinder shook his head.

“Then what?”

“Del hates you,” Cinder said. “Thinks you’re weak. I reckon she’s wrong. You’re ruthless as her. Just hide it better.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“I’ll save your pets if you go down,” Cinder said. “But I don’t reckon you will. I think end of tonight, you’ll be around. And Belthas won’t.”

I looked back at Cinder, trying to figure out if that should make me feel better.

A sound from behind made me look up in time to see Sonder returning. He was shivering. He really should have taken me up when I offered to lend him a coat. “Belthas started his ritual.”

I nodded. “Time to go.”

Sonder hesitated. “I-”

I sighed. “For us, not for you. You’re not going, Sonder. This isn’t your kind of fight.” I reached into my backpack and pulled out a radio, a donation from one of Garrick’s men. I tossed it to Sonder and he caught it awkwardly. “I want you to stay up here and pull lookout. Tell me if anything changes. I’ll call you when I’m in position.”

Sonder looked down, then up at me. “Don’t beat yourself up over it,” I said. “There’s a time to play white knight and this isn’t it. If everything goes to hell, get out the way we came and follow the valley down. You’ll get to a village in about five miles.”

Sonder opened his mouth and I saw him thinking about what to say. “Good luck,” he said unhappily.

I grinned at him. “Luck’s for Luna. See you in an hour or two.”

The grin vanished about two seconds after I was out of sight. I put on my mist cloak, pulling down the hood so that it concealed my face. Belthas would know who I was, but there was no point giving the cameras a free show. It was time to get to work.

Up close, Belthas’s manor was solid and imposing. It had been designed to look like a traditional English country house, but there was a blocky quality to it that made me think of a castle or bunker. The lower-level windows looked accessible but I knew they were reinforced and sealed. The only ways in were the front and rear doors.

I’d put the time I’d spent waiting in the darkness above to good use and I had a pretty good idea of the building’s weak points. Any kind of security system that can keep out people you don’t want can also keep out people you do, and rather than solve the difficult problem of attuning his wards, Belthas had elected to leave two openings over the doors. After some consideration, I’d picked the front one. It was watched over by one guard and a pair of security cameras.

The cameras were easy. There was a slight gap in the coverage and I waited for them to pan away before slipping through to come up against the manor’s west wall. I could feel the presence of the defensive spells through the stone: a gate ward and some kind of nasty ice-based attack that would trigger if anyone attempted to force entry. Luckily, I wasn’t intending to.

The guard outside the front door was obviously bored and cold. Peering around the corner, I could see him shivering, his hands shoved into his armpits and his MP5 hanging from its strap. There were a few steps leading up to the door and he was standing on top of them, visible in the reflected light of the windows. I walked silently along the edge of the building towards him, pausing from time to time when I got too close to his peripheral vision. The front of the building was bare with no cover, but in my mist cloak I was just one more shadow in the night.

By the time I was up against the steps I was close enough to see the stubble on the guard’s face and smell the cigarette smoke on his clothes. Looking into the future, I saw that if I got the guard out of the way and went in now, I’d run into two more in the front hall. All I could do was wait. I stood not ten feet from the guard, listened to his teeth chattering, and checked my watch. Thirty-five minutes until Belthas completed his ritual.

Five minutes passed. I was getting cold but didn’t let myself move, tensing and relaxing muscles to stop myself from stiffening up. Ten minutes. Looking into the future, I saw that the guards inside were gone. I pulled a pebble from my pocket, waited for the guard to glance away, and threw it into the darkness.

One of the funny things about divination magic is you can know something will work without having the first clue why. The pebble clinked off the rock and the guard snapped his head around as I’d known he would. He stood motionless for ten seconds, then crept down the stairs and slunk left along the wall, trying to blend into the shadows.

Why did he go that way, along the line of the wall, rather than towards the noise? I don’t know. I just knew that had been what I needed to do to make him turn his back. I moved quickly up the stairs, opened the door, and slipped inside.

The air inside Belthas’s manor was warm, the entrance hall panelled in wood with pictures on the walls. It looked expensive but rarely used. The murmur of voices echoed through the hallway-the doorway to my left led to a front room with four of Belthas’s men inside but I knew that for the next few seconds none would be looking at the door. I walked quickly past and up the stairs.

There were cameras inside too, and this time I didn’t try to avoid them. In stillness and darkness my mist cloak makes me all but invisible, but moving in the light is another story. Speed was my best chance now. The security station was on the first floor, and as I came up to the top of the stairs I drew my silenced pistol. The door to the security room was open, light glimmering from inside, and I went in with the gun up.

The room was filled with monitors, arranged in an arc around the room’s single desk. I could see the approaches to the house, the rooms inside. Pale electronic light bathed the man sitting in the chair. He had a red baseball cap pulled down over his eyes and his arms were clasped over his stomach as he slept. He wasn’t holding a weapon.

I aimed the pistol at his head, hesitated, then lowered it again and looked at the camera feeds. I counted at least ten guards plus the one in front of me and the two outside. There were views of a set of four reinforced metal doors in the basement level that looked a lot like cells. No inside view but if Luna and Rachel were here, that was where they’d be. There was a guard down on the basement level too … along with a slimmer figure whom I recognised by his hair as Martin. I narrowed my eyes. When I met Martin, he and I were going to have words.

There was a feed showing guards on the stairs leading up but the cameras on the second floor itself were blank. I guessed Belthas didn’t want anyone else watching his ritual. I looked under the desk but saw nothing except a bunch of cabling from the monitors feeding into the right wall, and I walked quietly out, keeping my gun ready. The man in the red baseball cap didn’t wake up.

The next door to the right opened into a small room full of humming computers. Perfect. I shut the door behind me, slipped off my backpack, and pulled out a block of an off-white, funny-smelling material as well as a pair of detonators.

I really don’t know anything about explosives, but being able to see exactly what will and won’t cause something to go boom makes demolition work a lot less stressful. I stuck the detonators into the block, tucked it behind the computer banks, backed off to the door, and looked into the future to see what would happen if I pressed the button on the detonator. Ouch. Okay, it was working. Mental note: one pound of plastic explosive makes a really big bang.

The next job was to find a way for Cinder to get in. The front door was still too crowded but as I moved to the rear of the building I saw that the back door was deserted except for the solitary guard outside. I stacked my other two blocks of plastic explosive against the door frame, set the detonators, then covered the whole thing with a coat someone had left on a stand. It would take out the door, the guard, the wall, and pretty much anything else.

I could hear voices from the front of the manor; the outside guard had come in and was talking to the ones in the front room. Couldn’t go back that way. Getting dangerous now-too many people, too many variables. I couldn’t predict everything. There was a back set of stairs and I moved down it away from the explosives, fumbling out my radio as I did so. “Sonder?” I hit the Transmit key. “Sonder!”

There was silence for a moment, then a hiss and Sonder’s voice came through, scratchy but audible. “Alex?”

“I’m about to be blown. Tell Cinder to go. I’ll open the back door.”

“Okay. Are you-?”

I shoved the radio back in my pocket and looked out along a ground-floor corridor. As I did, I heard someone call out, questioning. Damn, he’d heard me. I ducked into what looked like a dining room. The chairs were pulled out but no one was there.

Footsteps in the corridor. A guard was approaching. His gun wasn’t up-he wasn’t expecting a fight yet. Looking into the future, I saw that he wasn’t going to check this room … but he wasn’t going to leave the corridor either and in less than sixty seconds a bunch more guards would come down from the first floor. If I hid here I’d be trapped.

Time to give up on stealth. I waited for the guard to walk past, then stepped out into the doorway with my weapon up and sighted on the back of his head. I looked into the future of me pulling the trigger, saw that nothing would happen, flicked the safety off, looked into the future again, saw the burst going up and left, corrected down and right, looked into the future again, saw the burst hit, pulled the trigger. My divination isn’t as quick with guns as with thrown items-not as practised, not as intuitive-but it still took barely a second.

Garrick’s submachine gun was louder than I expected, a chattering ba-ba-bang! that made me flinch, and the second and third rounds went high as the recoil kicked my shoulder, but I saw the red puff as the first bullet went through the guard’s head, and that was all she wrote. The body crumpled and as my ears adjusted I heard shouts. The stairs down to the basement were on the west side and I ran for them.

I nearly made it. Would have made it, if three guards hadn’t decided to get smart and cut me off. I was less than thirty feet away when they came round the corner.

Most people think combat’s about attacks and weapons but it’s not. It’s about movement and information. Belthas’s men were just as skilled as me and just as tough as me but I knew where we’d meet and they didn’t. I was already crouching with my gun braced against my shoulder as the first one came around the corner, and I fired before he’d even spotted me. One burst to bring him down, another to finish the job. The other two guards could have rushed me if they’d attacked together but they’d just seen their friend killed in front of them. They backpedalled and started screaming into their radios for backup.

I had an open run to the basement but I’d just be boxing myself in. I could sense more guards closing in and I knew I had about fifteen seconds before they pinned me down. I ducked into the nearest room, pulled out the detonator and braced myself against the wall before pushing the button.

I felt the wall shudder behind me and there was a deep boom and a rush of air, followed a second later by a tearing, crashing sound. The lights flickered but most came back on again and the building steadied. I kept going through the room and out the other side into the main hall. Dust and smoke were billowing down the staircase, and I could hear screams from above; some of Belthas’s men had been near the second bomb when it went off. I took the right door and headed for the corridor where the two men were hunkered down, coming around from the other side. They’d heard me coming and were waiting with their guns trained on the corner, but it didn’t do them any good. I took a grenade from my pack, pulled the pin and let the lever spring free, waited two seconds, then threw it around the corner, bouncing it off the wall to roll next to where I knew the men were crouching. The bang was a lot louder this time. I moved past the torn bodies to the stairs leading down to the basement.

I heard Sonder’s voice over the radio as I trotted down the stairs. They were concrete, and narrow. “Alex? Alex!”

I pulled the radio out, listening carefully to the sounds above. There were shouts and orders but it sounded like I’d bought myself a little more time. “Make it quick,” I said into the radio.

There was a burst of static. “-did you say?”

The stairs ended in a metal door on the left-hand side. The guard in the basement was on the other side with his weapon trained, ready to fire. I shoved the door open and stepped back as a burst of automatic fire chipped fragments from the wall. “Not the best time, Sonder.”

“Cinder’s on his way,” Sonder said, his voice tense and excited. “Getting to the manor right about … now!”

Right on cue, I heard the familiar whoompf of a fireball from above followed by an agonised shriek. The guards on the ground floor who’d been heading for me changed direction. “Perfect,” I said absently, wedging the radio between ear and shoulder so I could bring up my gun.

“He’s burning the whole back wall!” Sonder’s voice rose a few notes. “He- Holy crap! That thing just-”

Another burst of fire drilled the wall next to me. I poked the muzzle of my gun around the corner and fired a short burst, the ba-ba-bang! deafeningly loud in the corridor, then pulled back fast to avoid the return fire.

“The wards are going off! They’re firing back, they’re-”

“Sonder, this really isn’t a good time,” I said absently. “Can I call you back?” Thirty-round magazine, bullets weren’t ricocheting … too difficult to land a hit. I sent another burst blind around the corner, then shrugged off my pack and rooted through for the last grenade.

The return fire was longer this time, bullets slamming into the wall to my right and embedding themselves in the soft stone, the noise drowning out Sonder’s reply. I twisted the pin from the grenade and waited for the guard’s magazine to run dry.

Click. The guard dropped, fumbling for a reload, and I leant out. I got a brief view of an open room with an overturned desk, shadows flickering as a light swung from a cord overhead, then I lobbed the grenade to bounce off the far wall and ducked back. There was a brief scream from behind the desk before the explosion cut it off. “Great,” I said into the radio. “Keep me posted.” I dropped it into my pocket.

The grenade had made a mess of the room and I searched it quickly, trying not to look at what was left of the guard. From above I could hear the roar of fire spells, muffled through the concrete. Cinder wasn’t having it all his own way and the chattering bursts of automatic weapon fire were answering him. I couldn’t sense any ice attacks, which meant Belthas wasn’t joining the battle. If he hadn’t come by now, it meant he was close to finishing; we didn’t have much time. I spotted a ring of keys beneath a splintered piece of desk and snatched it up, hurrying forward. “Luna!” I shouted.

A faint voice echoed from down the corridor. “Alex! I’m here!”

I was already running towards it, passing a side corridor along the way. Just before the corridor bent to the left were a set of four metal doors, two on each side, solid metal with heavy reinforcement. They didn’t have any windows, but each one had a narrow metal hatch at eye level. I flipped the catch and slid the hatch open with a rattle.

Luna was inside and as I saw her I felt a wave of relief that made me weak at the knees. For all that I’d seen her in Elsewhere, for all that I’d known Belthas wouldn’t have her killed without a reason, seeing her in the flesh made me feel a hundred times better. Luna looked a little pale, her hair was untidy and her clothes scuffed and torn, but as she saw me she gave one of her rare smiles. “Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” I said, and I realised I was smiling too. “How’s things?”

“Been better,” Luna said. “Any chance you could get me out of here?”

“Just waiting for you to ask.” The room was a prison cell, crudely furnished, and the door had bolts at top and bottom. I drew them back with a scrape of metal. “Where’s Deleo?”

Luna shook her head. “They took her away a couple of hours ago.”

I was just about to start going through the keys when something flickered on my precognition. I looked at what was coming and rolled my eyes. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

Luna sighed. She’s been with me long enough to get used to this. “I’m guessing that’s not good news.”

“Here.” I pushed the keys through the open hatch, hearing them clink on the concrete, and stepped away. “Be right back.”

Martin was about forty feet down the side corridor when I leant round the corner, my gun lining up to sight on him. “Martin,” I said. “Give me a reason not to shoot you.”

Martin was wearing a set of black combat gear, probably borrowed from Belthas’s men, along with a webbing belt that was slightly too big for him. He looked like an action movie actor trying very hard to pretend he was the real thing. He flinched as he saw the barrel of the gun, then shook it off and grinned. “Oh, hey, Alex. Thought it was you.”

The laser sight was steady on the black fabric covering Martin’s chest and my trigger finger itched. “I’ve just killed a half dozen people whom I had less reason to want dead than you,” I said quietly. “You’ve got a gun behind your back. Drop it.”

Martin’s grin widened and he lifted the gun. I fired before he got halfway.

Tendrils of shadow whipped out, thread-thin, and there was the crack of ricocheting bullets. Martin’s gun finished coming up and I fired another burst. Still nothing. I emptied the rest of the magazine into him. Black shadows flickered and I saw sparks flash but Martin stayed standing until my gun clicked empty. I stared at Martin. No wounds, no blood. What the hell?

“My turn,” Martin said and fired.

Martin was firing an automatic, a fairly powerful one from the sound. Luckily his aim sucked and none of his shots would have hit even if I hadn’t ducked behind the corner. I ejected the empty magazine, pulled out a spare, and snapped it into the handle as Martin’s shots bounced uselessly round the corridor. While my hands worked automatically, I tried to figure out what was going on. Martin didn’t have any magic of his own so how could-

Oh, God damn it.

The bang bang bang of fire from around the corner ended, and as the echoes died away I heard Martin laughing. “Figured it out yet?” he called. “You can’t touch me!”

“What is wrong with you?” I shouted. “Could you be any more annoying?”

“You have no idea what this thing can do, do you?” Martin’s voice was mocking. “Come on, take a look.”

I glanced carefully around the corner. Martin was holding the gun in his right hand and in his left was the monkey’s paw. “Second wish,” he said, grinning at me. “First one gave me protection from magic. Now I’m protected from everything else.” He shook his head at me. “Seriously, man. You had this thing all this time and never used it? How stupid are you?”

I ran through the futures of me emptying a hundred shots at him a hundred different ways. Useless. I didn’t know how the monkey’s paw was protecting Martin but I couldn’t see a way through, and I felt a chill. Drawing away magical attacks was one thing, but bullets? Was there any limit to what that thing could do?

But if bullets didn’t work, maybe getting in close would. I crouched, ready to spring. Martin could only have a few more bullets in that gun. As soon as he stopped to reload …

“Two wishes,” Martin said. His grin had gotten wider and there was something manic about it. “Time for number three. I’ve been waiting for this a long time.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “You’re wishing for your IQ to break double figures.”

Martin laughed wildly. “You think I’m a joke, don’t you? They all did! You, Belthas, everyone! Because I’m not a mage. Well, now I will be! But you won’t!”

“I-” And too late, I saw what Martin was going to do. My eyes went wide. “Oh, crap. No, you nutcase! Don’t-”

Martin lifted the monkey’s paw above his head. “I wish for all the powers of the mage Alex Verus to be mine!”

I’d been spreading out my magic, trying to watch all the possibilities. I’d been focusing on Martin, looking to see what he’d do next, looking into the futures of different ways I could attack him and the consequences of each, and finally keeping an eye on potential dangers at the back of my mind with my precognition, all at the same time. As Martin said the last word, I felt a surge of power from the monkey’s paw and just that fast, it was gone. The lines of glowing light in the darkness vanished into nothingness and the only sight I had was my eyes. For the first time in ten years, I couldn’t see the future. The shock was so great I couldn’t move. I stood frozen, staring.

Martin stood with the monkey’s paw held high. The corridor was silent but for the distant sounds of battle from above. Martin was gazing past me, that manic grin frozen on his face. As I watched, the grin slid away until he was just staring. His brow furrowed in confusion, his expression changing slowly into a mask of horror. His eyes went wider and wider until they bulged out, turning his good looks into something twisted. His gaze swept over me blindly as he looked around and began shaking his head, slowly at first, then more violently. “No,” he muttered. He covered his eyes, staggering sideways into the wall. “No, stop it. No, no. Stop it. Stop it! STOP IT! STOP IT!”

“Alex!” Luna called from behind. I could hear the rattle of keys.

I didn’t answer. There’s no way to understand what it’s like to see the future, know it, rely on it, then have it snatched away. It’s not like being blind-it’s like being deaf. You can still see, still watch things as they happen-but you don’t have the context anymore, the extra information that makes it mean something. Someone talks to you and you don’t know what they’re saying; something could be happening behind you and you wouldn’t know what. So much of my life goes into controlling this talent I have, focusing and using and directing it. Now it was gone, an emptiness where there’d been a whole world.

Martin had started screaming, wordless and breathless. He was stumbling blindly back and forth, bashing into the walls; his fingers dug into his forehead as if he were trying to claw his eyes out. I knew I should do something but I couldn’t think. Looking into the future was such a reflex that I couldn’t stop doing it, even though there was nothing to see. Luna was calling to me but I couldn’t hear her over Martin’s screams. There were too many things at once and without my magic I couldn’t keep track anymore.

The scrape of metal reached my ears over Martin’s screaming, and I looked up. The door I’d left ajar back at the entrance to the basement was open, and one of Belthas’s guards was standing there, one I’d seen before. He had a submachine gun pointed down at the floor, and he was wearing a red baseball cap. He saw me and the gun came up.

Reflex and survival instinct got me moving when my conscious mind couldn’t. I dived past Luna’s cell and around the corner as bullets raked the wall beside me. I heard the chatter of fire for another second, then the sound of running feet and silence.

I snatched a glance around the corner, trying to spot where the guard had gone. Nothing. Without my magic I felt slow, stupid. Had he gone left or right? I lifted my gun and aimed awkwardly, leaning out into the corridor.

The guard popped out on the side I wasn’t expecting and I threw myself back into cover as another burst of fire struck chips from the wall. My movements were scared, jerky; I was outclassed and I knew it. The fire stopped and I leant out to shoot back.

It was a trap. The guard was waiting with his sights trained on where I’d appear. If I’d been able to see into the future I would have seen it coming … but I couldn’t and I didn’t. Another burst of fire raked the corner and this time I wasn’t quick enough. Pain seared my left arm and I fell back with a cry.

The fire stopped. My left arm was numb, in agony, and couldn’t support my gun. I staggered back along the corridor, looking for cover. I could hear the tread of cautious footsteps; the guard knew he’d hit me and was coming to finish me off. I wrenched at the handle of the first door. Locked. The footsteps broke into a jog. Next door … locked as well. I ran for the end of the corridor.

Gunfire behind. Something plucked at my shoulder and I knew I’d been hit. I kept running, made it around the corner as another burst slammed into the concrete, trying to get as far as I could before I collapsed. My legs were still working but I didn’t know how much longer they’d last.

But I’d run as far as I could. The corridor came to a dead end ahead, and behind me I could hear running feet. I made it to the nearest door and wrenched at the handle.

The handle turned. I scrambled into the darkness, tripped over a bucket, and fell with a crash, gasping in pain as the impact jarred my arm. I tried to get up, hit something else, fell again. No more time. I twisted awkwardly, propping up my gun on my body, lining up on the rectangle of light that marked the doorway.

Silence. The guard must be outside in the corridor but I couldn’t see him. I held dead still, trying to quiet my breathing.

A footstep, quiet and stealthy. Another. The guard was advancing down the corridor. Two more steps, then the faint rattle as he tried the first door. He had to know I was in one of the rooms-there was nowhere else to go. It was just a matter of time.

Another footstep, this one closer. I couldn’t see where the guard was and I was afraid. I held my breath, trying to block out the pain and the fear, keeping my eyes glued to the light of the doorway, the gun shaking slightly as my right hand held its weight. If he looked around the edge of that doorway I would have a second-no more-in which he was silhouetted against the light. One chance to hit him.

But in that same second, he’d see me. There was a crazy irony to it. It was the same guy I’d found asleep in front of the monitors. After all the people I’d killed, I was about to die because I’d spared someone …

The footsteps stopped and I could hear the guard’s breathing just outside the door. I focused on the gun’s sight, trying to line it up on the right side of the door frame. One shot-

A flurry of footsteps. I heard the guard turn, then grunt as something hit him. The guard came into view, staggering across the doorway, caught for an instant in my gunsight with Luna’s slim body wrapped around him. Then he tripped and both of them fell with a thud out of my line of vision.

“Luna!” I shouted. I tried to roll to my feet, yelped as my arm gave way, gritted my teeth and struggled up anyway. Suddenly I wasn’t afraid for myself anymore. I could hear the scrabble of a fight, the guard swearing, boots scraping the concrete. Then there was a cracking noise and a thump, and everything went quiet.

By the time I reached the corridor it was all over. Luna had regained her feet and was dusting herself off, still holding the key ring I’d dropped through her door. The guard was lying still, the gun fallen from his hands. A trickle of blood ran down the side of his head and a heavy lump of concrete lay next to it. Looking up, I saw a jagged hole in the ceiling. One of the explosions must have weakened it.

I realised Luna was talking to me. “Alex? Alex!”

I looked up. “What?”

“Are you okay?”

“Sure. Fine.”

Luna gave me a disbelieving look and pointed at my left arm.

I looked down to see that the sleeve was wet with blood. “Oh. Right.” All of a sudden standing up felt really difficult. I slumped against the wall and slid down into a sitting position, wincing slightly.

“Alex!” Luna said.

“’M okay,” I said halfheartedly.

“You’re not okay. You’re shot!” Luna made a move towards me and checked, holding back with a noise of frustration. “It’s just the arm, right?”

“No,” I said vaguely. “Don’t think so.” Now the frenzy of combat was over, it was so much harder to think. I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to be doing.

“Then-can’t you look or see how bad it is or- I don’t know! Put a bandage on it, or something!”

“Didn’t bring one.” I laughed; somehow it seemed funny. “Used to. Had a first-aid kit. But so used to getting out of the way …”

Luna shook her head. “We can’t stay here. Let’s go.”

“Okay.”

Luna took a step back, then waited. “Come on!”

“Where?”

“What do you mean, where? You tell me where!”

I tried to remember but it was so difficult. My mind kept wanting to go back to looking into the future and every time I did I saw only darkness. But even staring into darkness felt easier than doing anything without my magic to rely on. Maybe if I sat there and kept trying it would come back. “Don’t know,” I said. “You think of something.”

Luna looked at me in disbelief. Then all of a sudden, she exploded. “What-no!” She stared down at me, her hands balled up into fists. “I cannot believe this! You’re ALWAYS lecturing me, you’re ALWAYS telling me what to do, now the ONE TIME I need it you do THIS? What about Arachne? And Belthas? You’re the only one who knows what’s going on! Now get up!”

Somehow I found myself on my feet. I still wasn’t sure what I was doing but the names struck a chord in my memory. “Arachne. Right.” I tried to remember what the plan was. Stopping Belthas, that was it. I just wasn’t sure how.

Luna shook her head. “This isn’t working. You’re no good like …” She chewed her lip. “Alex. Alex! What did Martin do?”

“He took my magic.” Even saying it hurt. “I mean … no, he couldn’t.” I tried to concentrate, to focus. “You can’t take a mage’s power without killing him. It’s still … there. Everything that lets me use it is still there. The monkey’s paw is just taking it. Giving it to him …”

Luna was silent. I looked up to see that her brow was furrowed, thinking. “Wait,” she said. “You can’t take a mage’s power without killing him? Is that right?”

“Yeah.”

Luna stared into space for a second, then her forehead cleared and she nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

I turned my head to watch as Luna walked over to the guard lying on the floor. She hesitated, then shook her head and reached down to pull something from the man’s belt. It slid from its sheath with a quiet hiss and as I saw the light glint off it I realised it was a knife. Luna rose and came back, holding the blade awkwardly. I watched as she edged around me, keeping her distance so that she wouldn’t pass too close. And I kept watching as she walked up the corridor towards where I’d last seen Martin.

Only then did I put it together. “No, Luna, wait!”

Luna looked at me, her expression a mixture of anger and something else. “What?”

“You- You don’t have to do this.”

Luna’s voice was tight, on edge. “We’ve got to do something.”

I shook my head. “No.” All of a sudden I knew what to do. “There’s another way.”

Martin had stopped screaming. He was lying curled up on his side, scratches on the floor where his shoes had scraped. His fingers were clenched, dug into his face, and blood trickled between them in a ghastly mask. He’d lost the gun but was still gripping the monkey’s paw, his knuckles white on the lacquered tube. His breath was coming in short gasps and he didn’t seem to know we were there.

Luna and I looked down at him for a second. “What happened?” Luna asked.

“He got what he wished for,” I said absently. Thousands and millions of futures, pouring into his mind. There’s a reason diviners are rare. I spent years building the mental discipline to be able to use my power without going mad. When I look into the future, it’s like seeing through a lens: sometimes narrow and focused, sometimes wide and blurred, but always sorting, ordering, picking the futures I need and blocking out the rest. Martin didn’t have a lens. He had all my power without any of my skill. He was seeing everything at once.

I knelt next to him. Deep scratches showed on Martin’s face from where he’d clawed at his eyes, but his eyes stared blindly into space. “Martin,” I said. I could keep talking and thinking as long as I stayed focused, but it was a struggle. I kept wanting to sink back into darkness and I didn’t know how long I could keep it up. “The magic’s killing you. You’ve still got the monkey’s paw. Wish it back.”

No response. Martin’s eyes didn’t flicker, and his breathing stayed the same, hoarse and ragged.

“Can he hear us?” Luna asked.

I shook my head. Martin had to be most of the way to insane. He probably couldn’t even tell the difference between future and present anymore. “So?” Luna said.

I took a breath. “Give me that knife.”

Luna set it down on the floor with a clink. I fumbled behind me and missed it twice before looking back around to pick it up, then turned back to Martin. My thoughts were starting to fray at the edges and I knew I didn’t have much time. I took a deep breath, and focused. For this to work, I would have to genuinely mean to go through with it.

I forced myself to go back through my memories, thinking of how Martin had betrayed me and Luna. How he’d lied to us from the beginning, tried to use us, taking everything he could and leaving us to our deaths. Then I brought the knife forward in my good arm. The steel blade flashed in the light as I put it to Martin’s throat for one quick, measured slash.

My magic senses danger by seeing the futures in which I’m hurt. As I see the futures in which I’m injured or killed, I change the decisions that lead to them. But it’s painful. To avoid a future in which I die, I have to experience it. I’ve learnt to shield myself from the psychic shock of those visions, taking only a hazy glance, enough to know how to avoid that future and no more.

Martin didn’t have a shield. In that instant, as I made the decision to kill him, Martin got to experience a million futures of me cutting his throat, a million visions of his own death, every one in perfect detail.

The scream from Martin’s throat was like nothing on earth. I jumped back as he spasmed, every muscle in his body flailing, and his voice hurt my ears. “Take it back!”

And just that fast, it happened. My magic snapped back into me like a rubber band, the visions flooding back into my mind, glowing lines of light branching out into the darkness. I knew where I’d see Luna if I turned around to look at her. I knew the wound on my arm was painful but not fatal; it would hurt but I’d be able to keep using the arm if I forced myself. And I knew Martin was about to collapse in front of me.

Martin collapsed. I leant against the wall, closing my eyes, feeling my thoughts piecing themselves together again bit by bit. The relief was incredible and I shivered as I remembered the feeling of darkness. I was sure I’d just gotten the material for a whole new set of nightmares.

“Alex?” Luna asked.

“I’m okay,” I said. A stray memory nagged at me: Hadn’t that guard hit me, with that last burst of fire? I checked and this time my divination magic found an answer: two small holes in my cloak. My mist cloak had saved me, its camouflage blurring my outline just enough to make the shots miss. I patted it affectionately, then checked my watch. Fifteen minutes. “We’d better go.”

Luna was staring down at Martin and when she spoke her voice was toneless. “Are those protections still working?”

Martin was unconscious, lying still on the floor, and as I looked into the futures in which Luna or I moved in to finish him, I saw that nothing would stop us. The monkey’s paw had taken back all that it had given. “They’re gone.”

Luna looked at Martin for a few seconds more and when she finally turned her eyes to me there was something cold in them. “You shouldn’t have stopped me.”

I looked back at Luna for a few seconds before speaking quietly. “I don’t think his life is yours to take.”

Luna held my gaze a moment longer, then stepped back around the corner. As I moved past, I felt the futures of her approaching Martin fade away. I headed for the stairs and Luna followed.