Fallen

chapter 8

I slept for a long time. I drifted between dreams and nightmares, filled with confusion and flight and danger, but they never became clear enough for me to become conscious. From time to time I would start to swim up towards wakefulness, and each time I would resist. I couldn’t remember much, but I knew I didn’t want to wake up. At last I couldn’t stay asleep anymore and slowly, reluctantly, I returned to the waking world.

You know things are bad when waking up feels worse than the nightmares. My memory came back piece by piece, and each bit made me want to run and hide. When I finally opened my eyes, I found myself staring up at the ceiling of my house in the Hollow. Birds were singing, and it was daytime outside. It was the same place I’d woken up . . .

. . . Jesus. Yesterday morning? Was that all it had been?

There was a rustle of movement and I turned my head to see Luna rising from a chair. Her clothes were rumpled as though from a long night, but her eyes showed no signs of sleepiness. “You’re awake? Stay there. Don’t get up.”

I tried to get up. I made it about six inches before collapsing.

“I said don’t get up.” Luna crossed the floor quickly, kneeling beside me. “You were in really bad shape when I found you.”

“How—?” My voice was weak, and I had to draw a breath and try harder. “How long have I been out?”

“It’s Wednesday noon. You’ve slept a little over twelve hours.”

It was still hard to take in. “You found me?”

Luna nodded. “I can tell you the story, but you want anything to drink or eat? Klara said you’d be hungry.”

I was hungry, but the thought of eating made me sick. I felt terrible; my muscles were like water, and my right hand was numb. “Tell me what happened.”

“I’d closed up at the shop.” Luna’s face looked drawn and troubled. “Vari and I were supposed to be meeting, but I’d been waiting for—Well, it doesn’t matter. Two Keepers came calling, they wanted to know if I’d seen you or Anne. One of them I didn’t know, but I recognised the other, nasty piece of work called Saffron. She just kept staring while the man was questioning me, and I could feel this weird pricking, like she was looking inside me. I remembered you’d said she was a mind mage, and I figured she was reading my thoughts. So I told the truth, and when they asked when I’d last seen you both, I told them it had been a couple of days. I guess she could tell I wasn’t lying because they let me go, though they warned me to call them if I saw you again.

“So they left and I called Vari. He told me that he was being held on standby and they wouldn’t tell him why. Except he also told me there were arrest warrants out for you and Anne and that they didn’t seem to care too much about whether they brought you in alive or dead. I tried to get in touch with you and Anne and I couldn’t, and that was when I got really worried. Tried calling Arachne and she didn’t answer either, and at that point I ran out of ideas. Just stayed in the flat, waiting for someone to call and getting more and more on edge.

“I was starting to wonder if I should go out looking when I heard a bump on the roof. I ran out and climbed up and found you lying there. I thought I saw something flitting away—it made me think of that elemental you used to be friends with—but then I was on my own. I didn’t know what was going on but I knew the Council was looking for you, so the first thing I did was use a gate stone and take you here to the Hollow. Then I got in touch with Vari. I knew I couldn’t tell him anything where anyone could hear, but we’ve worked out a code for this stuff. He sent me a message back that said help was coming, and twenty minutes later Landis showed up with this German life mage I’d never seen before. I was a bit dubious, since, you know, Keeper, but I let him in. She’s been the one taking care of you. She and Landis left again early in the morning, but she’s due back soon.”

Luna paused, waiting for me to answer. When I didn’t, she carried on. “What happened? I know it’s something to do with you and Anne, but no one’s talking. I ducked out to check the news, and the police have got a section of the Heath cordoned off all around Arachne’s lair.”

“They found out about Anne and the jinn.”

“I was afraid of that.” Luna looked unhappy but not surprised. “I was hoping, but . . . Where is she?”

“She’s—” I took a breath. “She’s gone. Not dead, but—She’s not coming back.”

“Gone where? What happened?”

I told her. I didn’t leave anything out, and Luna’s expression went from unhappiness to shock to horror.

When I got to the part with Anne, my voice wavered and I had to struggle to keep talking. “I didn’t want to,” I told Luna, feeling fresh tears well up. “I was trying to fight, but Crystal made me keep going. I couldn’t stop.” I saw sympathy on Luna’s face, and she touched my hand, her curse pulling back to let her fingers rest on mine. “It was Starbreeze, like you thought,” I finished. “She must have carried me back to the Arcana Emporium since she thought that was my home. Lucky you were there . . .”

“Oh no,” Luna said. “Alex, I’m so sorry.”

I’d managed to sit up at some point in the story; now I bowed my head. “God, this is awful,” Luna said. “What can we do?”

I didn’t meet Luna’s eyes.

There was a ping from Luna’s pocket. She glanced down, then rose to her feet. “It’s Landis. I’ll be back.”

Luna was gone for only a few minutes before returning, and this time there were two people with her. One was a woman I’d never met before, slim and serious looking with ash blond hair. Her eyes settled on me as she walked through the door, weighing me up.

Landis came striding through right behind her, all long limbs and brisk movements. “Well, well.” Normally Landis acts like a lunatic, but he can flip from eccentric to focused in the blink of an eye. “So you’re the new threat to national peace, eh? Have to admit, you don’t look the part.”

“It is Verus, yes?” the woman—Klara—asked. “May I examine you?”

I nodded. “Go ahead.”

Klara crouched by my side and placed a hand on my chest, studying me dispassionately. “Alex told me what happened,” Luna said to Landis. “If you want to know—”

“Not at all, my dear girl,” Landis interrupted. “I most definitely do not want to know. In fact, I think it’s very much in everyone’s interest that I know as little as possible.”

“Isn’t it your duty as a Keeper to bring me in?” I said.

“Absolutely! I woke up this morning to a bulletin announcing that you and Miss Walker were to be considered high-priority fugitives to be arrested and brought in at all costs, alive if possible, dead if not. Which is why, as I said, I have no idea whatsoever as to your whereabouts. I rather think I’ve spent this past hour taking lunch in the Lake District.”

I looked at Klara. “And this is . . . ?”

“Of course, where are my manners? Verus, meet Klara Lorenz. An extremely talented life mage and old acquaintance. When Variam and Luna apprised me of your circumstances, I put two and two together and concluded that Miss Walker, sadly, would not be in a position to offer her services. Very fortunately, Lady Klara was willing to make a house call.”

“For which I am also not here,” Klara said in accented English. “I am not under the authority of your Council, but I would rather this was not official knowledge, you understand?” She leant back with a nod. “Your injuries are not life-threatening. The previous wounds you suffered were healed before I saw you. With rest, you will recover fully. Your hand is another matter.”

With everything else that had happened, I’d forgotten about that. I pulled it out from under the duvet and looked at it. Someone had wrapped it in elastic bandages that held it steady, though I couldn’t feel their touch. It didn’t hurt, but I couldn’t make it move.

“Your body’s connection in that area has been broken,” Klara said. “There is nothing I can do.”

I didn’t understand. “The bones?”

Klara made a frustrated noise. “Not the bones. The Lebens . . . no.” She looked at Landis. “Grundmuster?”

Landis nodded. “Klara is referring to a concept in common parlance among life mages. Over here, they refer to it as a body’s pattern. You might think of it as a blueprint.”

“Yes,” Klara said. “Pattern. Your right hand is missing from your body’s pattern. Effectively your body believes your hand has been severed. Nerves do not function, blood flow is limited. Healing is impossible. Any damage will not be repaired.”

“Can you cure it?”

Klara shook her head. “If I had several days to work, and had the mage who had done it with me, so that I could question her . . . then maybe. Even then I would be at the limits of my skill. Your best hope would be to find the mage that did it. Assuming they would be willing to help. It troubles me that anyone would do this. It serves no function.”

Unless you just really hate someone, I thought bleakly. “Is there anything I can do?”

“If you cannot undo the alteration, the hand will have to be amputated,” Klara said bluntly. “Without natural regeneration, damage to the skin and flesh will not heal. Any incision will put you at risk of blood loss and infection and, eventually, gangrene. At that point, your life will be at risk.”

It was one more blow on top of too many others. It said something about my last twenty-four hours that I didn’t even really feel it. I just felt numb.

“I should go,” Klara said, rising to her feet. “I will return in two days to check on you.”

“And I should report in before anyone in the Council thinks to ask the wrong sorts of questions,” Landis announced. “Good luck, Verus. You can get in touch with me via Variam, but I would rather suggest you don’t do so unless absolutely necessary, for both our sakes.”

I nodded. Landis and Klara left.

Luna hesitated at the door. “Is there anything . . . ?”

“I’d rather be alone right now,” I said. It was an effort to talk.

“Okay,” Luna said. “Look, we’ll figure out a way to fix this. Somehow.”

I nodded without believing it. Luna left and I lay flat on my back, staring up at the ceiling.

I felt like I’d been hit too many times in the head. I didn’t have any plans, any goals. All I could manage was to keep breathing, survive one hour at a time. The numbness hadn’t gone away, which might be for the best. I didn’t know if I could handle the weight of everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.

I tried to think of something to do and came up blank. I didn’t want to talk to Luna, or to Vari. A part of me wanted to go to Anne, but a larger part shrank from the idea, and even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. What did I want to do?

Die?

I shivered at that. Not at the question, but at realising that I didn’t know the answer.

I stared at the ceiling. Outside, birds sang in the Hollow, oblivious to my misery.

At last I pulled myself up on one elbow. I didn’t have a plan, but I knew I needed to do something. I wished uselessly for Arachne. In the past, whenever I’d been at my lowest point, I’d gone to her. But Arachne was gone and I didn’t know where.

If your situation is truly dire . . .

I sat bolt upright. The package.

I struggled to my feet and pulled open my desk drawer, fumbling until my fingers closed on something rectangular. I pulled it out and tore off the paper one-handed to reveal the contents.

It was a lacquered wooden box, hinged with no lock. I opened it to see . . .

. . . a plain white envelope.

I stared down at it. I don’t know what I’d been expecting—a magic item probably. Apparently nearly all the parcel’s weight had been the box. The envelope was sealed and I held it down with my elbow to tear it open.

Folded inside were two sheets of paper, covered in neat flowing handwriting. I started reading, quickly at first, then slowing as I took in the contents.

My dear Alex,

By the time you read this, I will be gone. I write these words to give you what guidance I can in what must seem a truly desperate hour. I wish with all my heart that I could do more, but this is all I have to offer. I only hope it will make some small difference.

I know what has happened between you and Anne, and have known that it will happen for some time. You may wonder how; to that I can only say that it is an aspect of my heritage. My insight into the future differs from your divination, an awareness of certain key moments and events, but from your point of view the most important matter is that I knew how and why your relationship with Anne would end. You may well ask why I did not warn you. The short and unhappy answer is that some version of these events was inevitable. I chose not to share this knowledge, preferring to let you both experience what happiness you could in the brief time available. If you are angry, I can only apologise. I hope you can forgive me.

For some time now, I have known that a day would come when you would approach me asking to meet with the dragon in the tunnels below. Once you did, a clock would begin ticking, and within a short time—two years at the very most—events would be set in motion which would lead to the end of my time under Hampstead Heath, and to Anne’s enslavement at Richard’s hands. From there, the possibilities split into two paths. If you are reading this letter, then events have unfolded as I have hoped. You may be hurt terribly, you may feel as though all is lost, but you and Anne are alive.

The other path was much worse. It had many variations, but in all of them, Anne killed you, with her own death following shortly after. Unfortunately, my knowledge stretches no further than this, which is why I have arranged for this letter to pass into your hands. I have no special insight as to what lies ahead. But I can still advise, and so I have written this to counsel you one last time.

First and most important is the question of responsibility. As you read these words, I am sure you blame yourself for what has happened. Do not do this. Believe me when I say (for I do not say it lightly) that Anne’s fall is not your fault. Your old master set his sights upon her a long time ago, and once he did, this result was inevitable. Though I have no way to prove it, I believe that your efforts hampered and delayed his success, by giving her hope where she would otherwise have fallen into despair. But ultimately, your resources were too limited, his too great. Trust me when I say that in your dealings with Anne, you have no reason to be ashamed. You have done your best to help her, as you have helped Luna in the past, and Variam, and (not least) myself.

Now you must decide what to do, and on this matter I think I can guess the questions that will be weighing on your mind. First, an option that you may not have considered: you would at this point be fully entitled to walk away. Any debt you have towards Anne, you have long since paid. Hiding from Richard and from the Council will be difficult, but you have done harder things. If you choose to end your story at this point, passing quietly into retirement and disappearing from history, no one will blame you.

But I suspect you will choose otherwise. If this is the case, then the first course of action you have probably already considered is to enter Anne’s mind through Elsewhere. If you do so, you will certainly fail. You were barely able to succeed last time with the element of surprise; the same trick will not work twice. Instead you will have to follow the plan you have considered so long. You know the risks it entails, and you are as prepared as you will ever be.

I warned you a long time ago that by attempting to remain independent from both Richard and the Council, you were choosing the most difficult path, and I am afraid this is still true. Failure will mean your death. Success may mean the same. Even if you survive, you will be very different from the man you once were. In the past you have preferred to wait and react to events; that is no longer possible. Remember the lessons you learned from Richard, but never forget that there are other ways.

I have grown close to many humans over the long centuries of my life, watched them grow and learn with the turning of the seasons, and in time, sadly but inevitably, watched them pass away. Now, for the first time, I find myself separated from one whose life still lies ahead of him. It is a strange feeling but a hopeful one. Other creatures have laughed at me for my relationships, comparing them to how humans keep pets. But I have come to see you as far more, and now, thinking of what may befall you, I feel much as a mother must when her child sets out into the world.

I would like to believe that we will meet again, but I fear we will not. Some barriers are not easily crossed. But perhaps in some other place and time, we may see one another once more, and I will hear the end of your story. Until then, know that you have my love, and my blessing. My hopes and thoughts go with you.

Farewell,

Arachne

I lowered the paper, my thoughts whirling. She knew. So many things made sense now. She’d known what was coming, and had been prepared for it for a long time.

A part of me wanted to be angry at Arachne for keeping this a secret, but when I looked inside, the feeling wasn’t there. Maybe I could understand the decision; maybe there had just been so many catastrophes now that it didn’t seem to matter. In any case, I couldn’t feel resentment. I just wished she wasn’t gone.

I looked back at the letter’s second page. Walk away. It hadn’t even occurred to me. Would it even matter? I’d only managed to survive this long because both the Council and Richard had wanted me alive. Now both had turned against me, and I’d been brutally reminded of just how helpless I was against their full power. Whether I ran away or tried to fight might not even make a difference.

Unless I did what Arachne had told me I needed to do. Become a greater power. My eyes fell on a line from the next paragraph: . . . the plan you have considered so long . . . You are as prepared as you will ever be.

The plan she was talking about was the one the dragon had told me, two years ago. There are many paths, but only one that will enable you to reach your fullest potential: that which you already wielded and abandoned. I knew what that meant.

I also knew what the price would be.

I walked to my desk and sat on the chair. Through the window, I could see the trees of the Hollow, leaves blowing gently in the breeze, the sound of birdsong drifting down from above. I rested my chin in my one good hand and looked out the window.

I sat like that for a long time.

It was maybe an hour later that I felt a gate flash. Running footsteps sounded from out in the clearing, growing swiftly louder. They raced up to my cottage and the door banged open.

Variam stormed in. “You arsehole!” he shouted at me.

I blinked, turned with an effort. Variam was standing in the doorway, glaring down at me. “Sorry,” I managed to say.

“You knew all this time?” Variam demanded. “And you didn’t tell us? Either of us?”

I just nodded. Variam’s face darkened, and I saw violence flicker in the futures. I wondered if Variam would punch me. It was an academic sort of curiosity; if he did, I wasn’t going to stop him.

But with an effort Variam steadied himself. “Why?”

“At first, I just didn’t want you getting killed,” I said. “Later? Because I was afraid.”

Variam stared down at me, then strangely, I saw the anger fade from his face. “Yeah,” he said. “Well. That came back to bite you hard enough, didn’t it?” He turned away. “I guess we both fucked up.”

“You tried to warn me, didn’t you?” I said. “You knew something like this could happen.”

“Yeah,” Variam said. “I stopped talking about it because I thought—oh, I don’t know. That if you trusted her and believed in her, then somehow it would all work out. Stupid Disney shit. I didn’t think it was going to be like this.”

“Luna told you the story?”

Variam pulled out a chair and sat down. “Yeah.”

“The Council let you go?”

“Barely,” Variam said. “I can’t stay long, they’re going to be watching me a lot more closely now. You know I had trouble at the start with the hard-liners. Gave me shit for my connections with you and Anne. That got better once you got on the Council and Anne was your aide. Now, though . . .”

Looking at Variam, it suddenly occurred to me that he hadn’t suggested that he would have to cut ties with me. In fact, I was pretty sure that it hadn’t even occurred to him. Just by talking to me like this, he was committing a crime, yet that didn’t seem to concern him at all. “You really are loyal, aren’t you?” I said with a fleeting smile. “I guess that’s what Luna saw.”

Variam gave me a suspicious look. “What’s that supposed to mean? Never mind. What should we do?”

“Can you give me an honest answer to something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you think I’m too nice?”

Variam raised his eyebrows. “You really think this is the time?”

“I know it sounds strange,” I said. “But I need to make some decisions.”

Variam shook his head. “Fine. Short answer is yes. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re tough, but you’re also sort of . . . hesitant, I guess? Like what happened with the Nightstalkers. Most of the Council, all they saw was that you fought them and won. But the way I see it, you only did that after they’d tried to kill you about five times running. It was the same when we took the Hollow.”

“You think I’m naive?”

“More like passive,” Variam said. “It’s like you always have to give the other guy the first shot, you know? Until they do, you just talk at them and try to make friends.” Variam hesitated. “Then again, if you hadn’t been like that, you probably wouldn’t have taken us in. I mean, now that I think about it, I know we must have looked sketchy as hell. Anne had bad news written all over her, and I was kind of a dick. So . . . I dunno. I guess being the way you are has its good sides too.”

I nodded.

“So are you going to tell me what’s up?” Variam asked.

“I’m thinking.”

“About what?”

“I’ve been trying to hold on to a lot of different things,” I said. “I’m not sure I can do that anymore.”

Variam frowned. “Well . . . okay.” He glanced at his phone and rose. “I’d better go. They’re going to put me on hunting duty. Probably after you.”

I nodded.

Variam paused in the doorway. “Sorry about how things worked out.” Then he was gone.

The Hollow felt lonely. I took a walk around the woods, listening to the birds sing in the trees. I figured I had maybe a day or two until the Council tracked me here.

Along the way, I worked out what I was going to do. Once I’d made the decision, the plan more or less formed itself. I knew which item I needed, and I knew where I could find it. To get inside, I’d need help, and to find the person who could give me that help, I’d need someone else. Once I’d figured out how to contact her, I gated out of the Hollow to one of our staging points and dialled a number into a burner phone.

The phone rang twice and was answered. A woman’s voice spoke. “Hello?”

“Hello, Chalice,” I said. “You recognise my voice?”

Chalice is a Dark chance mage who for a while had been Luna’s teacher. She’s not affiliated with the Council, but she lives in their neighbourhood, and by calling her like this I was running a risk. By answering, so was she. When Chalice spoke again, it was with a note of caution. “Yes.”

“I’m guessing you’ve heard the news.”

“I have.”

“A few years ago, you spoke to me about an alliance,” I said. “Do you still feel that way?”

“That is . . . a dangerous question. You are not a safe person to be speaking to right now.”

“I know. So?”

There was a moment’s silence. “What do you want?”

“Information,” I said. “Specifically, the location of two people. You shouldn’t be at risk.”

“If the wrong people find out, I will very definitely be at risk.”

“Back in that café, you told me that you wanted to limit a certain person’s power,” I said. “Right now, I’m the best positioned to stop him. If you still feel the same, now’s the time to show it. If not, it’s best we go our separate ways.”

There was a long silence. I felt the futures dance, shifting. “How can I contact you?” Chalice asked at last.

“This phone is active for another thirty minutes.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

I hung up and waited. Chalice got back to me with seven minutes to spare.

“Your first person of interest is still active as of recently,” Chalice said without preamble. “I can give you a contact number. Possibly more, but that will take time. Be aware that he, like you, is currently not in the best of positions. Apparently he’s had a falling-out with his partner and with her master. The second person has left the country and is in hiding. I should have a more precise location in a day or two.”

“Understood.”

Chalice paused. “I don’t know if you’re telling the truth about what you’ll be able to do. But if you are . . . please do your best. I’m hearing of movements from our mutual adversary that suggest he’s gearing up for something. I don’t think you have much time.”

I made some more calls, set things up as best as I could, then returned to the Hollow. The sky was turning from violet to purple with the coming evening, the first stars starting to twinkle far above. I sat outside and listened to the wind in the branches.

Movement in the futures made me look up. A medium-to-large fox came trotting out of the woods and slowed to a walk as it approached me.

“Hi, Hermes,” I said. Hermes had taken to hanging out in the Hollow lately, catching the occasional ride in or out of the shadow realm with Luna.

The blink fox walked up to me and stood with his front paws together, head up. He sniffed at my bandaged right hand.

“Yeah, it’s hurt,” I said. “Not getting better either.”

Hermes sat back on his hind legs, curling his bushy tail around him.

“I could do it, you know,” I said. “Just leave. I’d have to abandon everyone. But I could probably make it work.” I paused. “Actually, I kind of want to.”

Hermes tilted his head.

“It’s because I’ve screwed things up so badly,” I told the blink fox. “When things go a little bit wrong, you want to fix it. When they’ve gone this wrong, you just want to quit. I don’t want to go back and pick up the pieces. I mean, I already tried once. Why would it be any different?”

Hermes looked at me.

“Okay, it might be different. Or it could be even worse.” I was silent for a moment. “I don’t feel like I’m much help. Maybe it’d be better for everyone if I did just leave.”

Hermes moved forward and nudged my hand with his nose. “You want me to stick around?” I asked with a faint smile.

Hermes blinked at me.

“You think I can do something useful? Make a difference?”

Hermes seemed to pause as if considering, then blinked twice.

“You think I’m just going to fail.”

Blink blink.

“So what are you saying?”

Hermes looked at me expectantly.

“You think I should stop feeling sorry for myself and go do something?”

Blink.

I gave a wan smile. “Direct and to the point.” I got to my feet. “I’ll get you some food.”

A few hours later, I got the response I was waiting for. I set up a meeting, left messages for Luna and Variam in safe channels that they’d see in the morning, and returned to the Hollow to sleep.

And went to Elsewhere.

I hadn’t been planning to. I knew the smart thing was to rest. I was still recovering from the past night, and time in Elsewhere isn’t as restful as normal sleep. But I couldn’t stay away.

I knew almost as soon as I entered the dream realm that someone was looking for me. A part of me perked up at the news, hoping against all reason that it was Anne. Maybe she’d found some way to reach out to me, she’d found out what had really happened and was coming to tell me that she didn’t blame me and it wasn’t my fault and . . .

It wasn’t Anne.

I sighed and let Elsewhere take the form of a vast empty city, walkways and colonnades stretching between spire-topped palaces. There was a bench waiting for me, but I didn’t sit. I stood out in the open and folded my arms.

A figure stepped out from between two columns. She was maybe nineteen, compact with short red hair, and her name was Shireen. “Hey.”

I didn’t answer. Shireen approached and sat on the bench. “I’m guessing you’re not that happy at the moment.”

“No.”

“You got out alive,” Shireen said. “Better than I did.”

Shireen had been one of Richard’s other apprentices, the third of four. Rachel had killed her, and when she had, an imprint of Shireen had lived on inside Rachel’s mind. Somehow, Shireen didn’t seem to carry a grudge. Instead, she’d been pressuring me for years to help Rachel and redeem her.

“It’s not like I didn’t give you plenty of warning,” Shireen said.

“Don’t start.”

“Well, you have kind of been asking for it. How long have I been telling you to do something about Rachel?”

“Do not even try to make this my fault.”

Shireen shrugged. “Just saying.”

“Just saying what?” I glared at Shireen, anger at the unfairness of it all boiling up. “That this happened because I didn’t work hard enough on your crazy plan of saving Rachel’s soul? Although I don’t know if I should even be calling it a ‘plan,’ since you’ve never given me the slightest clue how I’m supposed to do it. You just said ‘redeem her,’ then left me to figure out how. Not that it would have mattered if I had, since I’d still be getting screwed by the Council and Richard and everyone else. Pretty much all Rachel did was kick me while I was down. So even if I’d managed to do this completely impossible task you’ve tried to hang on me, it wouldn’t have made any difference!”

“You’d have had one extra person on your side,” Shireen said. “Couldn’t have hurt.”

I stared down at Shireen. She looked back at me with no trace of guilt, and it suddenly struck me just how young she seemed. When we met, Rachel and Shireen and I had all been teenagers. Shireen—or this version of Shireen—was a teenager still, quick and full of energy, action without hesitation. But I wasn’t.

I remembered a conversation I’d had with Luna last year. She’d told me that I was making a mistake by thinking of Rachel as Rachel; in her view, that person was gone and Deleo was all that was left. Maybe she’d been right.

“You’ve been setting me up from the beginning,” I said. “Trying to get me to turn Rachel into some sort of good person. It was always impossible, wasn’t it?”

“No. Alex, I promise, it was never that. There’s still something left in her that’s worth saving. I think that’s true. It has to be true.”

“And I’m the one who pays the price if you’re wrong.”

“Hey,” Shireen said. “You’ve had the chance for a life for yourself. I haven’t. All this time that you’ve been running around giving orders on the Council and dating your new girlfriend, I’ve been stuck in here.”

“So I’m supposed to get myself killed to make up for that?”

“You’ll get killed if you don’t,” Shireen said. “Remember the prophecy I told you all those years back? Someday, Rachel will have to make a choice. Either she stands with Richard, or she turns against him. If she turns, he loses. If she doesn’t, you die.”

“What are she and Richard doing?”

“I don’t know exactly. She can hide things from me better than she could before. I get emotions, mostly.” Shireen paused. “She’s been thinking about Anne a lot, especially the last couple of days. Resentment, envy. She’s getting to really hate her.”

“Because Anne’s yet another person who’s getting promoted over her,” I said. “Right? First it was Morden, then it was Vihaela, now Richard’s got a new girl, one who’s younger and more powerful than she is.”

Shireen nodded. “She’s been feeling like that awhile. I mean, she was the only one who stayed loyal to Richard while he was gone. Now he doesn’t seem to need her anymore.”

“Of course he doesn’t. Back then she was his Chosen. Now she’s just another follower.” I looked at Shireen. “And that isn’t enough to make her walk away?”

“No,” Shireen admitted.

“Luna gave me some advice last year,” I said. “That maybe it was time to start admitting that my redemption of Rachel just isn’t going to happen. I mean, by this point, Rachel’s done so many awful things that she probably can’t even remember most of them. Does she ever feel bad about any of it? About all the ghosts she’s left behind?”

“She buries it as deep as she can,” Shireen said. “It’s why she wears that mask. As long as she doesn’t let it catch up with her, she can keep going.”

“Yeah,” I said. “That’s sort of the problem, isn’t it?”

Shireen shrugged. “I’ve told you the truth.”

“I get that,” I said. “But there’s something that’s been bothering me about this whole thing. You keep asking me to redeem Rachel. To split her away from Richard. But you’re framing it as something I’m supposed to do.”

“So?”

“I don’t think that’s how redemption works,” I said. “For it to happen, you have to want to be a different person. I don’t think it’s something that someone else can do to you.”

“Well . . . you’ll just have to figure something out,” Shireen said. “I mean, I’ve told you enough times. You don’t really have a choice here.”

“That’s not very helpful.”

“Like I said. I’m telling you the truth.”

I stared down at Shireen. She looked back up at me. Time passed and I realised that Shireen wasn’t going to volunteer anything more. This was what she had to offer.

“I think we’re done,” I said.

“All right,” Shireen said. She rose to her feet. “Good luck. I know it’s hard, but . . . I think you can do it. Or you have to. Because there isn’t anyone else.”

Shireen walked away and I watched her go. Something had been nagging at me for the second half of the conversation, something important, and as she disappeared between the columns, I realised what it was.

Shireen hadn’t lied to me. Luna had hinted at it, but I’d always been sure she’d been telling the truth. But you can tell the truth and still have it coloured by your point of view. Shireen saw this in terms of redemption because that was what she cared about. Rachel was her whole world, and she wanted to make things right.

But the dragon’s prophecy hadn’t actually said anything about redemption. It just said that Rachel had to turn.

I filed that thought away. I couldn’t see how to use it, not yet, but I had the feeling it was important. I let Elsewhere fade from around me, and fell into sleep.