Fallen

chapter 5

My talk with the two Annes left me feeling uneasy. For the next few days I turned it over in the back of my mind, trying to come up with something I could do.

Nine days passed. I lived in the Hollow, travelling to the War Rooms each day with Anne. There was plenty to do: the war was still on a slow burn, and there was no sign of anyone on the Council plotting a move, but there were the usual problems that needed to be managed, and they kept me busy. Arachne stayed at home in her lair, and I visited her twice more. Luna kept working in the Arcana Emporium, and Variam was busy with his work as a Keeper.

Tuesday the eighth of August started like any other day.

I woke up next to Anne and we went outside for our morning workout. For me the focus was on fitness, calisthenics, and resistance work with a few martial arts forms. For Anne it was hand-to-hand training; she was getting better, though she still wasn’t as aggressive as I knew she could be. Once we were done, we headed back to change and to discuss the day’s work over breakfast. The current issue was once again the adepts—with the news of Richard’s new training program added to the existing steady trickle that had been joining him, the Council was considering various heavy-handed responses. I didn’t like any of them, but coming up with a viable alternative that I could sell the Senior Council on was tough. After that I made some calls, while Anne gave Karyos her daily checkup, and once we were both ready we gated via staging points to the War Rooms.

Morning at the War Rooms meant meetings. I delivered a report to Druss the Red, after which I had to take part in a long, frustrating interview with a task force of Keepers from the Order of the Cloak. Anne had some tricky negotiations with Lyle and Julia, the aides to Undaaris and Alma. We met up again over lunch to compare notes.

Afternoon was a full Council session. While Anne waited outside, I met with the Senior and Junior Councils in the Star Chamber. The first two hours was reports—finance, security, public relations. It was tedious, but while my position was much better these days, it wasn’t secure enough that I felt safe not showing up. Next on the agenda was long-term strategy, which devolved into an hour-long argument between Sal Sarque and Bahamus. Neither was able to sway enough members for a majority, so the decision was postponed until next week. Finally came military announcements.

“. . . and they report that the cargo was talocan filaments,” Bahamus finished.

I pricked up my ears. “Sure about that?” Druss asked.

“The German Council wasn’t able to secure a sample,” Bahamus said. “But I’ve read the report provided by their universalists, and they were quite thorough. It seems overwhelmingly probable.”

Druss frowned. “What the hell’s Drakh up to with those?”

“Not exactly a mystery,” Sal Sarque said. “Some ritual.”

“Bloody expensive way to do a ritual.”

I listened closely. Talocan filaments are a type of infused component with some unusual properties that make them valuable for high-power magical rituals. They don’t get much use since they’re so awkward and time-consuming to make, which, as Druss had pointed out, made them expensive. Richard would have needed to put in a lot of work to get so many.

“Do we have any indication that Drakh’s cabal are planning any rituals that would benefit?” Alma asked.

Bahamus shook his head. “They’ve been quiet for almost a month.”

“Yeah, and I don’t like it,” Druss said. “We were expecting retaliations over that facility, but we haven’t had a peep. Why?”

“Council intelligence thinks he may be suffering a manpower shortage.”

“What bloody manpower shortage? We haven’t taken down anyone from his inner circle all year.”

There were five members of the Senior Council present today: Bahamus, Druss the Red, Alma, Sal Sarque, and Levistus. The first two were more or less my allies, the last two were definitely my enemies, and Alma was somewhere in between but closer to the latter. Druss, the one who’d been speaking, was a big, powerfully built man with a thick beard.

“We’ve had multiple reports that Drakh’s forces are having issues with morale and momentum,” Bahamus said. His manner was steady; in all the time I’d known him, I’d never seen him lose his cool. “Remember, the pressure is on him in this war. He needs a constant stream of victories. A stalemate serves our interest, not his.”

“I’m afraid I can’t share your optimism, Bahamus,” Alma said. “In case you’ve forgotten, we are supposed to hold authority over all of magical Britain. A stalemate does not help our image at all.”

“That ship sailed a long time ago,” Druss said. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Right now we’ve got a breather and we should be using it to go on the attack.”

“You’re the one who’s been telling us how dangerous Drakh’s forces are.”

“Which is why I don’t want to sit around while he lines up a punch.”

“We’ve discussed this,” Bahamus said. “Our offensive operations have consistently played into Drakh’s strengths. If we can hold out long enough, the Dark mages of Drakh’s coalition will fall to infighting as they always do.”

“That’ll only happen if Drakh shows weakness.”

The argument between Bahamus and Druss started up again, and I sat quietly and listened. Nowadays much of my time was spent on these disagreements, figuring out who to support and why. It wasn’t fun, but I’d come to learn that politics, at least in the Light world, mostly came down to having enough people on your side.

“Enough,” Alma said at last. “This is getting nowhere.”

“We can’t just keep sitting on our arses,” Druss said.

“Without knowledge of Drakh’s base of operations, there’s no way for us to launch an attack,” Alma said. “Have you made any progress on that?”

Druss was silent for a moment. “No.”

“Then as far as I can see, we’re going to have to table this,” Alma said. “I think we’ll adjourn.”

The meeting broke up. Sal Sarque moved to speak with Druss, the two of them talking quietly in one corner, while Alma met two other Junior Council members. I rose and stepped to one side as Bahamus approached me.

“I’ve spoken to the others regarding your proposal for the adepts,” Bahamus said. “They’re leaning towards supporting it.”

“Including the amnesty?” I said.

“Alma isn’t keen on that part.”

“It doesn’t matter if she’s keen, it’s essential! There’s no way we can possibly convince the adept community to be neutral unless it comes with a promise that we aren’t going to come after them as soon as we’re done with Drakh. She has to see that.”

The adepts had been one of the thorniest problems in this war. In the run-up to hostilities, Richard had worked hard to sway the adept community to his side, and unfortunately for the Council, he’d had a fair bit of success at it. Adepts are both less powerful and less organised than mages, but one thing they have on their side is numbers—depending on how you count them, there are between ten times and a hundred times as many adepts in Britain as there are Dark mages and Light mages put together. Even if only a few percent of them were fighting for Richard, that was a huge pool of manpower and resources that he could draw upon. I’d been doing what I could to win hearts and minds, but it was hard work, especially with mages like Alma, whose idea of diplomacy was to give someone a warning before crushing them.

“Well, I’ll try to convince her.” Bahamus paused. “On another note, don’t spread this around, but we’ve completed the timesight analysis of that facility.”

“Finally. What took them so long?”

“Overstretched. Sonder has been busy on some other project. In any case, it seems as though it was a more important base than we realised. Drakh himself had visited it more than once. It looks as though its destruction may have significantly set them back.” Bahamus paused. “You’ve been doing good work, Verus. Keep it up.”

I smiled slightly. “Glad to know you feel that way.”

“Once we’re done with this, I’ll see if we can get your membership on the Junior Council made official. I know you’ve become a de facto member with everything that’s happened, but an announcement would help solidify things.”

“It . . . would, actually. It would help a lot. Do you think—?”

A voice spoke from across the table. “Bahamus.”

Bahamus turned. The man addressing him looked to be in his fifties, though I knew he was older, with thinning white hair and odd eyes that were so pale they were almost colourless. His name was Levistus, and he was quite possibly the worst enemy I had.

“You are needed for a closed session of the Senior Council,” Levistus said.

Bahamus frowned. “Can this wait?”

“I’m afraid not.”

Bahamus sighed and looked at me. “We’ll have to continue this later. I’ll contact you after the meeting.”

“All right.”

Bahamus left. Levistus’s pale eyes rested briefly on me, then he turned away.

Anne was waiting outside the Star Chamber. “That took a while.”

“Usual holdups.”

Half a dozen other mages were scattered around, though there was a general movement out. The end of the Council meeting signalled the last phase of the workday in the War Rooms. Various mages would stay for after-hours meetings, but from this point on the population would drop steadily.

Any trouble? Anne asked through the dreamstone.

Not so far. Did you hear back from the Keepers?

We kept up a mental chat as we made our way back to my office. Once there, I caught up on work while I waited for Bahamus to contact me. Half an hour passed, then an hour. An hour and a quarter. An hour and a half.

I looked at the clock in annoyance. “What’s taking him so long?”

“What’ll happen if you call him?” Anne asked.

“No answer. Nothing from Druss either.”

“Are they ever going to get in touch?”

I tapped my fingers on the desk, looking ahead. Unfortunately, the futures were murky. It’s easy to predict events that have already been set in motion, but it looked as though in this case, the key decisions had yet to be made. There were flickers of futures in which I had incoming calls, but all the most likely possibilities involved Anne and me sitting around for more than an hour.

“Forget it,” I said at last. “Let’s head to Arachne’s.”

The sun was dipping low by the time Anne and I arrived on Hampstead Heath. The western sky was lit up in oranges and reds, long shadows stretching out across the grass and down towards the ponds below. Shouts and snatches of laughter drifted on the summer breeze. Anne and I emerged from the ravine we use for gating and touched the entry node to Arachne’s cave. Arachne answered after only a moment, and we disappeared beneath the ground. The earth closed up behind us.

As always, I felt myself relax as we walked into Arachne’s cave. Warm lights glowed from around the rock walls, reflecting off a hundred pieces of cloth and silk. There are only really two places I feel safe these days, Arachne’s cave and the Hollow, and I’ve been coming to Arachne’s cave for much longer. While I’m at the War Rooms—and most other places, for that matter—I have to constantly be looking ahead and watching for threats, and it’s exhausting. You can’t live like that 24/7, not if you want to keep your sanity.

I sprawled out on a sofa and got to work on my correspondence while Anne chatted with Arachne. The two of them have always got on well for whatever reason: usually when I introduce someone to Arachne there are problems, but Anne and Arachne seemed to fall into a friendly relationship immediately. Arachne worked away on something as the two of them talked, her legs moving more quickly than usual.

“There,” Arachne said at last. She picked up the article of clothing to hang from her front two legs. “Finished.”

I glanced up from my keyboard to look. It was a dress, black with shoulder straps, but I was more interested in what my magesight showed me. The thing had a magical aura, and it was strong: close to my armour, if not on a par with it. The spells that made it were integrated, smoothly woven in a way that made them hard to identify, though they had the feel of living and universal magic.

“It’s amazing,” Anne said.

“And powerful,” I said. “What’s it for? Wouldn’t work well as armour with that much of the arms bare.”

“Thank you, Anne,” Arachne said with a pointed look at me. “Not everything is about combat effectiveness.”

“Hey, I’m just saying. If you’re going to wear something that’ll catch that much attention, you might as well build some protection in.”

“Protection comes in different forms,” Arachne said. “I’m glad I could finish this in the end. Balancing its compatibility with its internal growth was more difficult than I’d expected.”

“It is alive, isn’t it?” Anne said, studying the dress in fascination. “Who’s it for?”

“Who do you think?”

Anne paused. “Me?”

“Of course, you,” Arachne said. She laid the dress down on the table, folding it neatly. “It needs a little more time to grow, but the spells are done. It should be fully matured in a couple of days.”

Anne hesitated.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“It’s beautiful, but . . . isn’t it a lot of work for something you’d only wear on special occasions?”

“Actually, it’s designed for long-term wear,” Arachne said.

“Is it an A-line?”

“More of a skater dress than an A-line.”

“Well, I’ve no idea what that means, but I’m pretty sure it’d look good on you,” I told Anne. “What’s the matter?”

“I’d feel bad about taking something like that if I wasn’t going to use it often enough,” Anne admitted. “Isn’t an imbued dress like that really valuable?”

“Yes,” I said. “But I’d have got you one long ago if it was just about cost. I’ve been trying to talk you into wearing something more protective for years.”

“If I wear something like that, everyone is going to look at me.”

“They’re going to do that anyway.”

“You know what I mean.”

“What, you’d rather have something more modest?”

“Well . . .”

A chime rang out, echoing around the cave. “What was that?” I asked Arachne.

Arachne had picked up the folded dress and was placing it in a small enclave in the wall. At the sound of the chime, she’d stopped moving. “Arachne?” I asked.

Arachne stayed still for another moment, then sealed the enclave behind a panel. “The perimeter alarm.”

Anne and I stared. “The what?”

Arachne was moving to the other side of the room. I shook myself, then path-walked, looking into the future to see what would happen if I went outside. Up the tunnel, out the door, and— “Oh shit.”

“Who’s out there?” Anne asked.

“A small fucking army.” The futures had dissolved into violence, weapons fire, and spells. Lots of spells. “Armed men and magic-users. Adepts and mages, three at least, probably more.”

Anne looked up towards the tunnel in alarm. “What should we do?”

I hesitated. Anne and I had made contingency plans for dozens of situations, but in most cases the plans revolved around breaking contact and getting somewhere safe. Arachne’s cave was the safest place we had.

A noise blared, loud and discordant. Arachne had been moving around the cave, activating devices; now she paused. “What’s that?” Anne asked.

“The communication focus,” I said. “But it shouldn’t sound like . . .”

A voice spoke from the wall, loud and harsh. “To the inhabitants of this cave: you are ordered under the authority of the Light Council of Britain to open this door and submit to questioning. Failure to do so will be considered a violation of the Concord and will be enforced by any means necessary, up to and including the use of deadly force. You have thirty seconds to comply.”

Anne stood very still. I looked ahead to see what would happen if we didn’t answer. They weren’t bluffing. Actually, it was worse than that—the men outside were going to shoot first and ask questions later. When a Council team is operating under those rules of engagement, it means one of two things: either they’re sure the suspects are guilty, or they don’t care.

“Can you—?” Anne began.

“Talking is out,” I said. “These guys are not here for a discussion.”

“You should run,” Arachne said.

A distant boom echoed down the tunnel, and I felt a faint tremor through the floor. “What about you?” I asked Arachne.

“I will stay.”

“What? Why?”

There was a second boom, louder and deeper, and this time I felt the signature of powerful magic, earth and force. “Alex . . .” Anne said. “She’s right, we have to go. If we’re not here, maybe they won’t . . .”

“They’re not going to leave her alone! Anyway, go where?”

I heard distant voices from up the tunnel, shouts and the sound of orders. “Withdraw into the tunnels,” Arachne said. “The wards on this area prevent gating, but if you can travel far enough, they should weaken to the point that you can use a gate stone.”

Light flickered from the tunnel mouth and I felt a spell discharge: there was a distant yell. Arachne glanced over and made a motion with one foreleg. I felt a spell trigger, something that had been hidden in the cave’s wards that I’d walked past a thousand times without noticing. With a rumble the sides of the tunnel bulged inward, earth and stone flowing to seal off the entrance.

Arachne stayed facing the wall and I grabbed one of her back legs. The hairs were rough under my fingers. “If you’re telling us to run, why aren’t you coming?” I’d already seen that she wouldn’t follow. “Are you planning to hold them off?”

“Not precisely.”

“Then why?”

Arachne held still, not turning to face me. “There is . . . no longer time to explain.” Arachne’s voice was sad. “There are reasons I must remain here, protections limited in time and space. In time, you will understand.”

“Understand what? I don’t—” And then I cut off as I realised that Arachne was right. We were out of time.

Cracks formed in the wall where the tunnel entrance had been, spiderwebbing across as chunks of earth and rock tumbled to the floor. With a rumbling crash a breach opened, dust billowing into the cave, shields of force magic sweeping the rubble away. Men came through behind the shields, wearing helmets and combat armour, beams flickering from the lights mounted on their guns. One of them aimed at us and fired.

I was already jumping backwards, catching Anne and pulling her to the side. We ran, falling back to the tunnel mouth at the far end of Arachne’s cave that led to her storerooms and down to the deep caverns below. Once I reached the cavern mouth, I slowed and turned.

Arachne hadn’t run. She lifted her front legs, magic trailing around them as she wove patterns. The men fanning out into the cavern turned on her, firing; sparks flashed as the shots glanced off, localised protective spells deflecting the bullets into the floor and walls, precise and efficient. Arachne made a flicking motion towards the soldiers, and nets of glowing light materialised out of the air, wrapping around them and taking them down one by one.

More people flooded into the cave, and this time they weren’t soldiers. A ball of fire erupted, engulfing Arachne for a moment before her defensive magic snuffed it out. Arachne sent nooses of magical silk, followed by a cocoon. The nooses didn’t make it through the fire shield; the cocoon did. The fire mage fell, struggling to burn away the bonds, but more and more mages were coming and they were filling up the cavern faster than Arachne could deal with them.

One of the flanking gunmen spotted me and Anne and lined up a shot. I blinded him with a flare, but more fire tracked in on our position and I had to duck back into the cave mouth. Arachne was left alone, a solitary figure in the centre of a semicircle of enemies.

An ice blast struck Arachne in the flank; she deflected it, sending a spell back at the mage with a flick of one leg. Earth magic surged, and the stone beneath Arachne’s feet reared and struck like a hammer. Arachne stumbled and fell. The mages around her pressed in, spells battering as Arachne’s shields began to flicker and fall.

“No,” I muttered under my breath, and took a half step forward.

“Alex.” Anne caught my arm. “Don’t.”

I dug my nails into my palms. I knew Anne was right, but I couldn’t stand to just leave Arachne alone. “I can’t—” I began, then stopped.

Something strange was happening in the cavern. Spells and magical attacks were still streaking in at Arachne, but they were slower to reach her. Not because they were moving more slowly, but because they had farther to travel. I saw one fireball dip and fall short, though its arc should have carried it the full distance. The gunfire no longer seemed to be doing anything; it was as though the soldiers were firing into empty space. Arachne still defended, still wove her nets and spells, but she seemed smaller and smaller, a tiny shape at the centre of a vast arena. Now none of the attacks were reaching her at all.

That was when I realised the walls were moving.

The walls swept anticlockwise, rippling and turning. Men fell back towards the centre of the room like scurrying ants. The walls were brown and gold now, plated and scaled, and as I looked up I realised that the ceiling had been replaced by a starry void. I kept looking up and up, knowing what I would see, and it wasn’t a surprise when I saw the draconic head, lifted on a long neck, towering above me like a mountain range.

Shouts and yells echoed through the chamber as the men fell back. Or tried to; it would have taken them ten minutes at a full sprint just to get from one side of the cavern to the other. Some of them fired at the dragon; strikes of fire and ice glanced off the scales like pinpricks. The dragon reared up, then down, its long serpentine body twisting as it reached Arachne.

Arachne was looking up at the dragon; it felt as if she was speaking, though I couldn’t hear words. The dragon reached down and picked up Arachne delicately in one claw. I saw Arachne turn to look at us; for one moment her eyes met mine across the vast distance. Then the dragon was rising, soaring up into the stars and the night. As it did, space seemed to expand, reality reverting itself. A flick of its tail restored the cavern roof, blotting out the void and returning the cave to its original shape.

There was a moment of silence. The dragon was gone. Arachne was gone. All that was left was an empty patch at the centre of Arachne’s lair. Anne was still there, I was still there, and so were about forty assorted mages and Council security, all picking themselves up off the floor and staring around them as they tried to figure out what had just happened.

My divination gave me a head start and I darted back into the tunnel, dragging Anne with me. Someone shouted something, and without looking I threw a condenser, feeling the flash of magic behind us as it burst into a cloud of mist. We ran down the tunnel, hearing shouts fading away behind us.

“What—?” Anne managed to ask as she ran.

I don’t know!

That dragon. It was the same—

Yeah, but I don’t think it’s coming back.

It couldn’t have given us a lift as well?

We ran through the darkness. It was pitch black but my divination guided my steps, showing me where to place my feet on the rough rock. Anne had to run blind, trusting to my guidance and her own sense of balance. Eventually I slowed to a jog, then a walk, then I stopped to listen. Silence.

I can’t sense anyone, Anne said.

I can, I said. The tunnel was dark and oppressive, the weight of hundreds of tonnes of earth pressing down from above. To sight and sound, we could have been alone in the dark, but as I looked through the futures I knew that was an illusion. They’re on our trail. Keep moving.

We kept moving through the darkness. Do you think Arachne’s okay? Anne asked.

I’d wondered the same thing. There had been a finality in Arachne’s manner at the end, as though she knew we weren’t going to see each other again. But right now, I was pretty sure that we were in more danger than she was. I think we should be worrying about ourselves. Hold up a second, I’m going to try a gate stone.

We stopped, standing in the dark, as I took out our gate stone to the Hollow. Futures flickered out as I tried a hundred gate spells in a hundred different ways. I swore quietly, shoved the gate stone back into my pocket, and resumed walking.

No good?

Too much interference. The wards over Arachne’s cave were old and deep. If either Anne or I could cast gate spells, we could have tried to force it by upping the power, but neither of us was an elemental mage, and having to rely on focuses was hurting us. We’ll have to go farther.

Didn’t you say that the dragon lived down here?

Assuming it’s still here. I looked ahead to see what would happen if we kept going . . .

I stopped. Anne bumped into me before catching herself. “Oh shit.”

“What?”

“We’re cut off.” I felt a stab of fear in my gut. The Council forces were behind us, and there was someone else ahead. And it wasn’t just anyone.

“Side turnings . . . ?”

“We’d have to go back, and they’d be right on top of us. Try your gate stone.”

“But you said—”

“I know. We’re out of options.”

There was a moment’s silence, then there was the rustle of movement and the tunnel lit up in faint green light. Anne’s face became visible in the glow, set in concentration, staring down at the focus. Seconds ticked by.

“Running out of time,” I said, trying to keep the tension out of my voice.

“I’m trying! I can’t get it to take!”

I was looking through the futures in which we stayed where we were. None of them ended with us escaping through a gate. “Don’t think this is going to work,” I said. “Have you got anything else you could try?”

“If I did, I’d be trying it already!”

I took a deep breath, looked down the tunnel, then back at Anne. “There’s one thing.”

“What thing?” Anne asked, then her face changed. “Oh no.”

“You can still call on that jinn,” I said. I hated the idea of even suggesting this, but I couldn’t see any other way out. I knew exactly what was going to happen if the Council caught us, and right now, I didn’t think I could stop that from happening. “And given the other stuff it can do . . .”

Anne was shaking her head.

“You have any better ideas?”

“You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“No, but I know what’s going to happen if we stick around!”

Anne let the gate stone drop and caught my wrist. “No, you don’t—” She took a deep breath, then spoke quickly. “I need her help to use the jinn. And every time we’ve done that, she’s got stronger. Driving the jinn out, locking her away that last time, it took everything I had. If I let her in again, she won’t be going away. Not ever.”

I looked back at Anne. “Well. That’s not good.”

“I’m sorry,” Anne said in a small voice.

“Not your fault.” I was silent for two seconds. “Well, I guess that leaves us exactly one direction to go.”

I took Anne’s hand and we started walking down the tunnel again. With my other hand, I took out a pouch from one pocket, readying its contents. How long will we have? Anne asked through the dreamstone.

People chasing us are about five minutes behind, I said. Call it about four minutes to finish the fight and get back to running.

Who’s . . . ? Anne began, then tailed off. Oh. Her.

Pale brown light bloomed from ahead, and a figure stepped out from the wall. She was heavyset, and her big hands flexed as she faced us. “Councillor Verus,” Caldera said. “You are under arrest under suspicion of—”

“Save it,” I said.

“And you, Anne Walker, are under arrest for, well, more things than I can count,” Caldera said. “But then, you already know what they are, don’t you?”

I felt Anne flinch, and I squeezed her hand once in reassurance. “You going to get out of our way?” I told Caldera.

“We both know that’s not going to happen,” Caldera said. “You’ve had this coming a long time.”

Caldera wasn’t moving, and I knew why. She’s stalling, I told Anne. We’re going to have to rush her. I’ll try to distract her for you to get close.

All right.

Three and a half minutes left. I tried to ignore the fear in my gut. Above ground in the open, I would have given the two of us good odds against Caldera. But we weren’t out in the open, we were in a cramped tunnel surrounded by stone. It was the worst possible environment to fight an earth mage. “So how many others did you bring?” I asked. “Rain join the party too?”

“I don’t need—”

Go, I told Anne, and lunged.

Caldera reacted instantly, spears of stone stabbing from the wall. I twisted aside; through the dreamstone I felt a flash of pain from Anne, but Caldera was right in front of me and I had a clear shot. I feinted with my left hand, then when she moved to block I brought my right hand up and around and threw glitterdust in her face.

But Caldera had been ready and she’d managed to get her eyes closed in time. Glowing particles clung around her eyelids, but while her vision was impaired, she wasn’t blind. She backed away and I followed, reaching into my pocket for another weapon.

Caldera ignored me completely. As I lunged, she reached out over my shoulder, and light glowed as she cast a spell. As my stun focus caught Caldera in the stomach, I heard Anne cry out.

I glanced back and felt a chill. The stone walls were enveloping Anne, rock flowing over her like thick jelly, and half her body was already engulfed. I turned on Caldera in a fury. The stun focus hadn’t put her down, but it had made her stagger, and I hit her with everything I had, knees and fists and elbows.

It felt like hitting a lump of granite. Pain flashed through me as my blows landed, but she didn’t seem to feel it. My elbow connected with the side of her head, hard enough to knock out a normal person, but Caldera only stumbled, then lifted her hand again towards Anne.

The stone of the tunnel walls rippled, pulling Anne inside it. Struggling, Anne was drawn into the wall, the stone enveloping first her body, then her head. Only when Anne had vanished completely did Caldera turn to me. Snarling, I attacked again. I might as well have tried to punch through a brick wall. Caldera took everything I could dish out, then threw a punch hard enough to break my ribs. I blocked it, but the impact threw me back.

“Seen your moves before, Alex,” Caldera said. “Blind first, then go for the stun.”

“Let her go,” I said through clenched teeth.

“You surrender, I’ll let her go. How long you think she’ll last without air?”

I lunged. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I was trying to think of what I could do. Using mist or dousing Caldera’s light wouldn’t do much, and a forcewall wouldn’t help me get Anne out. That just left my more lethal weapons, but they’d do nothing unless I could disable Caldera’s protective spells.

I tried my dispel focus. It worked, but Caldera was ready for it, renewing her stone skin immediately. I got more hits in as she did, but none of them were enough to knock her out.

Caldera fell back, on the defensive but unhurt. “No trucks this time,” she told me. She spread her hands wide. “Bring it.”

I hesitated for an instant. There was one thing I could do. Break past Caldera, use a forcewall to seal the corridor, and run. Come back for Anne later . . .

. . . there wouldn’t be a later. “It’s me you want, right?” I said. “Let Anne go and I’ll stay with you.”

Caldera gave me a pitying look. “Arrest warrant was for you both. And if I could only get one, orders were to make it her. But honestly? I’m looking forward to taking you down as well.”

I could hear footsteps from behind; we were nearly out of time. Desperately, I threw myself at Caldera.

But Caldera was stronger than me, and tougher than me, and I was running out of tricks. My blows kept landing, but they were hurting me more than her. Caldera barely even needed to block.

I kicked Caldera’s leg out, but the impact sent a jolt of pain through my knee and I didn’t get out of the way quite fast enough. Caldera’s punch hit my thigh like a hammer, making me stumble.

I jumped back, nearly falling. “You’re just making things worse for yourself, Alex,” Caldera said.

“Screw you.”

Caldera came at me like a bulldozer, slow and heavy and unstoppable. I blocked and dodged, but I was tired now, hurt. I ducked one blow and my leg gave way from underneath me. Before I could get out of the way, Caldera stamped on my ankle, making me gasp.

“Don’t get up,” Caldera told me.

I got up.

Caldera was waiting. She struck again, and this time, she finally managed a clean hit. The world flashed white, then red, then I was falling through darkness, thought and sensation fading away.