Fallen

chapter 3

It was tomorrow, and I was on trial for treason.

“As I said in my report at the initial inquiry,” Barrayar said, “Solace and I were in one of the interview rooms with Keeper Caldera when we first became aware of the attack. We left and were immediately engaged by what we are now aware were summoned lesser jinn. After they were dealt with, we conferred and realised that the attack was most likely an attempt to rescue Morden. Therefore, we headed directly for his cell.”

Barrayar is on the small side, well dressed, with a calm, polite manner that gives little away. Looking at him now, standing in front of the bench with his hands clasped behind his back, you wouldn’t guess how many deaths and attempted murders he’s responsible for. I’ve hated him for years. Maybe that was something people looking at me wouldn’t guess, either.

“No,” Barrayar said in response to a question from the bench. “We had separated from Mage Verus at the facility entrance and saw no trace of him until the events later.”

There were a moderate number of people in the courtroom. Full trials are open to all Light mages, but in this case attendance had been restricted. Off to one side were the other witnesses to be called: several of the surviving staff from San Vittore, along with Solace and Caldera. Solace shot me unfriendly glances when she thought I wasn’t looking. Caldera stood stone-faced and silent.

Sitting at the bench were the bench clerk, the records clerk, and the coroner. Officially the coroner was the one in charge, but sitting at the back of the room were two men and one woman, and though all three had yet to speak and no one looked at them too closely, everyone knew that they were the real power in the room. They were from the Senior Council, and they’d be the ones who decided the verdict.

Technically this wasn’t a trial, in the same way that technically, I hadn’t been charged with treason. Officially speaking, this was a follow-up inquiry into the attack on San Vittore. But Council inquiries are generally motivated by politics, and the fact that they’d ordered a second inquiry strongly suggested that they were looking for a scapegoat. It wasn’t hard to guess who they had in mind.

“Mage Verus appeared at the tail end of the fight in the control room,” Barrayar was saying. “He claimed to have no knowledge of the creatures engaging us. At this point, Morden and Vihaela were able to override the door to Morden’s cell and advance upon us.” Barrayar paused. “I believe the details of the ensuing fight were covered at the previous inquiry.”

The coroner glanced sideways at the table where the Senior Council were seated, then nodded to Barrayar. “The court will refer to your previous statements.”

“Thank you.”

I managed not to roll my eyes. The “fight” had consisted of Caldera being taken out in one move, at which point Morden and his companion had walked out while Barrayar, Solace, and I stood back and watched. But the real problem, and the secret I had to keep today at all costs, was that “Vihaela” hadn’t been Vihaela. It had been Anne.

“Once the conversation was over,” Barrayar continued, “Morden and Vihaela departed. They left their summoned jinn behind, who began to press upon us.”

“And who was the ‘us’ at this point?”

“Myself, Mage Solace, and Councillor Verus. Keeper Caldera had been disabled.”

“And what happened then?”

“The three of us engaged in a brief discussion on how best to handle the situation,” Barrayar said. “Councillor Verus ended the conversation by declaring that he was going to pursue Morden and Vihaela. He then proceeded to run through the creatures, avoiding their attacks long enough to reach the security gate and lock it behind him.”

“Locking the three of you in there with the summoned jinn?”

“That’s correct.”

Well, of course it’s going to sound bad when you put it like that. At the time my only concern had been pursuing Anne. I’d figured that the other mages could probably look after themselves. I’d been right, though it obviously hadn’t done much to improve relations between us.

“The rest of the battle is referenced in my previous report,” Barrayar said. “We were able to hold out long enough for a Keeper relief force to arrive.”

“Did you have any further contact with Councillor Verus during the incident?”

“No.”

“Thank you, Mage Barrayar, that will be all.”

Next up on the witness stand was Solace. “He just left us there!” she declared. Solace is the aide to Sal Sarque, one of my more vitriolic enemies, just as Barrayar is the aide to Levistus. She’s not as smart or as dangerous as Barrayar, but she can still make trouble, and she was making trouble now. “He could have stayed and helped but he just left us to die.”

The coroner cleared his throat. “You claimed earlier that Councillor Verus was responsible for the attack.”

“Well, someone let Vihaela in, didn’t they? There were only four mages from outside in the facility when it happened, and he was the only one who wasn’t with us. We didn’t see him all the time that we were fighting our way through to the control room.”

“And you believe that Councillor Verus was the one responsible?”

“Morden paid him,” Solace said. “Gave him his chain of office. He said Verus could keep it.”

There was a stir, and a few people glanced at me. I didn’t show any reaction.

“So then he went running after Morden,” Solace continued. “Those jinn didn’t even scratch him. I don’t think they were even trying. Probably Verus was trying to catch up with Morden and Vihaela before they left.”

Oddly enough, Solace was quite right. The jinn hadn’t been trying to hurt me. It was just as well that she so obviously hated me. If she’d been a more credible witness, people might have paid attention.

“I see. Do you have any further evidence to present to the court?”

Solace thought for a moment. “No,” she admitted grudgingly. “But he was useless in the fight, too.”

“Thank you, Mage Solace. That will be all.”

Solace went to sit down, avoiding looking at me.

The bench clerk spoke up. “Councillor Verus.”

I rose to my feet and walked to the witness stand. The courtroom was quiet, and I could feel all eyes on me.

“I should clarify that this is an inquiry, not a trial, and you are not charged with any breach against the Concord or national law,” the coroner said. “However, in the event of any future trial, should one occur, any statement made at this court can be taken as evidence.”

I nodded.

“Do you have any further testimony to give?”

“Yes,” I said. “But first I would like to ask Mage Solace to clarify some points of information.”

“As this is not an actual trial, you do not have a right to cross-examine.”

“Mage Solace has directly accused me of capital crimes,” I said. Solace hadn’t been as careful as Barrayar, and I’d done my homework before coming here. “As such, I have the right to question her directly.”

The coroner hesitated. It was plain he didn’t want to grant the request, and just as plain that he couldn’t see a way out of it. “Very well.”

I turned to Solace. “Mage Solace. What kind of mage am I?”

“What?”

“What kind of mage am I?”

Solace looked confused. “You’re a diviner.”

“Can diviners use gate magic?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Answer the question, please.”

“No,” Solace said in annoyance. “I don’t see how that matters.”

I nodded. “When I entered San Vittore, along with you and Barrayar, the three of us were checked for contraband. Is that correct?”

“Excuse me, Councillor Verus,” the coroner broke in. “Is this relevant?”

“I’ll demonstrate its relevance shortly. Solace?”

“Yes, that happened. So?”

“The list of contraband items included focuses, imbued items, and magic items of any other kind,” I said. “All three of us were examined with magesight to confirm that we were carrying none of those things. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“All right. Now, you claim that I was the one who let Vihaela into the facility.”

Solace shrugged.

“How?”

“What?”

“San Vittore is a bubble realm,” I said. “It’s accessible only by gate magic, and its gate wards are heavily reinforced. This was established at the previous inquiry. So how am I supposed to have let Vihaela in?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” I said. “You’ve just agreed that I can’t open a gate myself, and also agreed that I didn’t have any kind of item that would open one for me, but you’re still claiming that I must have let Vihaela into a place that’s only accessible via gates?”

“Well, that’s for a judge to decide, isn’t it?”

“Actually, no,” I said. “For a judge to be hearing the case at trial, there would have to be a trial, which, as the coroner has just pointed out, this is not. One of the things a criminal case requires is plausible means. Which means it has to be at least physically possible for the accused to have done what they’re accused of.”

“Well, who else could have done it?” Solace demanded. “You weren’t there!”

“I wasn’t with you, Barrayar, and Caldera, correct. Do you remember why?”

Solace paused. “I don’t know.”

“After we’d passed the security screening, I asked if I could accompany you and Barrayar while you questioned Morden,” I said. “Do you remember what your answer was?”

Solace shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t remember.”

“We could always ask Barrayar,” I said. “Or one of the other witnesses who were—”

“Okay, I think I said no.”

“Which means you were the reason I wasn’t with you when the attack happened.”

Solace looked angrily at me. “Next point,” I said. “Barrayar has stated that I rejoined you and Caldera shortly before Vihaela and Morden forced open Morden’s cell door. I came from the opposite direction that Morden and Vihaela did, correct?”

“So?”

“So let me see if I’m understanding you correctly,” I said. “You claim that I entered the facility with no magic items nor any ability to use gate magic. I then proceeded to override the gate wards on San Vittore and allow Vihaela into the facility, using some means that you’ve yet to explain. Having accomplished this—an opportunity that I only had because you refused to allow me to accompany you—I then split up with Vihaela in such a way that she ended up on the other side of the facility behind a locked cell door. Having done all this, I met back up with you. Does that sum it up?”

Solace glared at me.

“Your accusation is one of the stupidest and most incoherent things I’ve ever heard,” I said. “If I’d brought a case like that to my supervisor back when I was a Keeper, he’d have asked if I was drunk.”

“Excuse me, Verus,” the coroner said. “You’re becoming overly personal.”

I could see smirks on the faces of a few of the audience, but knew better than to push things too far. “Very well.” I turned back to the coroner. “As to the question of why I chose to pursue Vihaela and Morden, there are two reasons. The first is I’m a diviner, not a battle-mage. There’s very little I can do against an army of summoned jinn. I decided that trying to locate Vihaela and Morden would be a more productive use of my time than staying in a battle I couldn’t easily contribute to. Regarding locking the gate, well, Barrayar’s a force mage. He could cut through the bars. The jinn couldn’t.”

“You claimed there were two reasons . . . ?”

“The other reason is that ever since I’ve known them, Mages Barrayar and Solace have treated me in a hostile manner. Given the choice between having the two of them at my back in a fight, and running into a horde of monsters, I decided I’d rather take my chances with the monsters.”

Someone laughed from the back of the courtroom. The coroner shot a frown in their direction, which he then turned upon me. “Jokes are not appropriate to this inquiry.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

“Well. Returning to the matter at hand, you stated in your initial report that you did not have any further contact with Morden or Vihaela. Is this accurate?”

“Yes,” I said. “At the time, I was still under the impression that the only way for the two of them to have left San Vittore was via the main entrance. Unfortunately, when I reached it, I met a Keeper relief force who told me that they’d seen no one exit the facility. I was able to direct them to the location of Mages Barrayar, Solace, and Caldera, but I wasn’t able to pick up the trail.”

“You stated in your report that you were unable to track Morden and Vihaela thereafter.”

“That’s correct.”

“According to records, various Keepers and Council personnel made multiple attempts to contact you in that time,” the coroner said. “You did not respond to any of the requests for several hours, and when you did so, it was to provide a brief message stating that you were otherwise occupied. It wasn’t until the following day that you reappeared to deliver your report of events.”

“That’s correct.”

“Can you give an account for your movements during this time?”

This was the most dangerous part. “I hoped to trace Morden and Vihaela’s route before they could cover their trail.” I looked straight at the coroner as I spoke, eyes straight and voice level. “First I tried several staging points that I’d seen Morden use during my previous association with him. When that didn’t work, I attempted tracking spells using Morden’s chain of office as a focus. I was aware of attempts to contact me during this period but felt I couldn’t afford the distraction.”

“You didn’t consider the sequence of events important enough to report to the Council?”

“I felt that pursing Morden was time critical and as such was the first priority,” I said. “We now know that given the method by which Morden and Vihaela left the bubble realm, any such attempts to trace them were doomed to failure. However, I believe it was the correct decision given the knowledge available to me at the time.”

There was a pause. I saw the coroner glance towards the Senior Council table, but I didn’t turn my head to look. “Very well, Councillor Verus,” the coroner said. “That will be all.”

I nodded and walked back to my seat. Almost everything I’d told the coroner in those last two answers had been a lie.

“The court will now consider timesight evidence,” the coroner said.

The bench clerk spoke up again. “Mage Sonder.”

There was a pause, then one of the doors opened and a young man was escorted in, pale-skinned with black hair and an academic look. When I’d first known him, he’d been slender, with a pair of glasses that he’d fiddle with when nervous. Nowadays the glasses were gone, along with most of the nervousness. He was less slender too.

Sonder and I had been friends once. He’d joined me and Luna on our early adventures, and the three of us had formed a group to which Variam and Anne had been later additions. They’d stayed, but Sonder hadn’t, and when events brought us together again, he wasn’t very friendly anymore.

“If you could state your name and occupation for the court, please,” the coroner said.

“My name is Sonder, and I work for the Council Home Office,” Sonder said. “I’m also a Keeper auxiliary seconded on a semipermanent basis to the Order of the Star.”

“You are a timesight specialist?”

“That’s correct.”

“And were you assigned in the aftermath of the attack to perform a timesight scan of San Vittore?”

“That’s correct.”

“Can you give a summary of the attack for the court, please?”

“The attack unfolded as described in the initial report, but further scans have uncovered some additional detail,” Sonder said. “The lesser jinn were summoned in two separate areas marked on the fifth page of the report on figure C. Having been summoned into the facility, they then spread out, attacking facility personnel in the locations marked in figures D and E on the next page . . .”

I let my attention drift; this had been covered at the previous inquiry. Instead I tried to remember exactly where the rift between Sonder and me had come from. We’d been close, once. What had caused the split?

Five years ago, I’d been hunted down by an adept vigilante group called the Nightstalkers. Sonder, Luna, Variam, and Anne had gotten involved in the aftermath of the attack, and explaining why the Nightstalkers were after me had involved telling them some bits of my past that I wasn’t very proud of. Sonder hadn’t taken it well, and he’d liked the way I’d eventually dealt with the problem even less.

But while that had seemed like the obvious explanation at the time, it didn’t fit so well with hindsight. In the years since then, Sonder had become a rising star in the Council, and that meant buying into the things the Council does. I was pretty sure that by this point he’d have been involved in Council-sanctioned operations that were just as dirty as anything I’d ever done, if not worse. So while that might explain why he’d avoided me then, it didn’t explain why he was still doing so now.

Maybe it was more about beliefs. Sonder is a Light mage through and through—he grew up in the system and he belongs in it in a way that the rest of us don’t. I mean, our group’s all tied to the Council, at least on the surface—I’m a Junior Councilman, Anne’s a member of the healer corps, Variam’s a Keeper of the Order of the Shield, and even Luna graduated from the apprentice programme. But none of us really buy into the idea of the Council. We’ve had too many bad experiences to trust it completely, and even when things are going well, we try to keep its people at arm’s length. Sonder doesn’t. At a deep level, Sonder basically believes that the world would be a better place if the Council ran everything. Maybe if it hadn’t been the Nightstalkers, it would have been something else.

A split usually starts from something small. What had been the first serious disagreement I’d had with Sonder? I thought back to beyond the Nightstalkers. There had been something that was . . . oh. That.

Last night, Anne had mentioned her father’s death and Jagadev. I hadn’t said anything, but it had reminded me of something that I’d been avoiding for a long time. I was one of the few people who knew that Anne’s parents’ deaths probably hadn’t been an accident, that the death of Variam’s father probably hadn’t been an accident either, and that Jagadev—who had been Vari and Anne’s guardian at the time I met them—was probably responsible for both.

Back in the nineteenth century, India had been the site of the rakshasa wars. On one side had been the Light Councils of India and Britain; on the other had been the rakshasa, ancient shapeshifters who traced their origins back to before human history. The rakshasa were immortal and powerful, but they weren’t unkillable, and one by one they were hunted down. A hundred and fifty years ago, a team of mages had attacked the palace of a rakshasa lord and lady. The lady, Arati, was killed. Her husband was not. That rakshasa was Lord Jagadev, and he’d spent the century and a half since then nursing his hatred for humanity in general and mages in particular. And he’d worked from the shadows to arrange the deaths of the mages that had killed his wife, and their children, and their children’s children, until as far as I was aware there were only two descendants of those families still alive. One was Variam, and the other was Anne.

Or so I guessed. Sonder had been the one to dig all that information up, and he hadn’t been able to find hard proof, but it had been suggestive. Sonder had been expecting me to tell everyone, and I could have done just that, but for a variety of reasons that seemed good at the time, I’d decided instead to force Jagadev into an uneasy truce. He’d leave Anne and Variam alone, or I’d go to the Council. It had worked, more or less—to the best of my knowledge Jagadev had cut all contact with Variam and Anne, and they’d been left to finish growing up in peace. But Sonder hadn’t been all that happy with my decision, and over the years, I’d become increasingly uncomfortable with it too.

I’d thought about telling Vari and Anne several times, but I hadn’t, and a big reason had been the likely consequences. There was a one hundred percent chance that the first thing Variam would do would be to go after Jagadev in a white-hot fury, and if he did, Anne would be right there with him. Their chances would be a lot better now, but no matter how the fight turned out, I couldn’t see any of the consequences being good. Maybe Jagadev would kill them; more likely he’d run away and resume his secret war from the shadows, in which case he’d certainly do his best to screw up Anne’s and Vari’s lives out of sheer spite. And even if they took vengeance, what would it get them?

But if I was being honest, a bigger reason had been that I was afraid of how it would make them see me. I could imagine the first question—why didn’t you tell us?—and the second—so all these years you’ve been keeping it a secret? Telling Vari would be bad, but I couldn’t bear the thought of the look in Anne’s eyes. Anne trusts me, and she’s not one of those people who trusts easily or often. I hated the idea of letting her down.

But this wasn’t going to get any easier if I kept putting it off. Back then, Sonder had looked up to me. Maybe that had been the point where he’d started mistrusting me. After all, if I’d keep that kind of secret, I might keep others. If I cleared that up, could it be a way to mend fences?

It might be worth a try.

The sound of my name brought me back to the present. “. . . read Councillor Verus’s statement?” the coroner was asking.

Sonder didn’t look at me. “Yes.”

“Are your findings consistent with the evidence he’s given?”

I forced myself to stay relaxed. Timesight can let you view any past events that have occurred at a location. There are a lot of things that can block it, and the wards that the Council layers on places like San Vittore make viewing those locations difficult. But difficult isn’t the same thing as impossible, and Sonder is very good at what he does. Right now, of all the people in the room, he was the one I had most reason to fear.

Sonder hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “As I said in my initial report, the wards on San Vittore made it impossible to take a precise viewing.”

“However, you stated that you were able to trace movements.”

“Yes.”

“Are you able to conclusively confirm or disprove Councillor Verus’s account of his movements?”

“Not . . . conclusively. But everything I was able to establish tended to confirm them.”

“Could you elaborate?”

“I can confirm that he did travel directly from the facility entrance to the interview room,” Sonder said. “And he later travelled directly from the interview room to the wing containing Morden’s cell. However, I wasn’t able to clearly view the period in between.”

“Are you able to tell us why?”

“Council interview rooms have extensive ward protections. The corridors are less heavily shielded.”

“So you can’t confirm or deny Councillor Verus’s actions in the period leading immediately up to the attack.”

“No.”

“Hypothetically, could he have opened a gate in that period?”

Sonder paused. “To outside the bubble realm?”

“Yes.”

“Um . . . ,” Sonder said. “No.”

“I’m sorry?”

“There’s no possible way he could have done that.”

A stir went through the courtroom. “Didn’t you just say that you weren’t able to view the interview room?” the coroner said.

“Yes.”

“Then how can you say what did or didn’t happen inside it?”

“Because gate magic creates a signature in a wide spatio-temporal radius,” Sonder said. “I couldn’t view the interview room, but I could view the corridor it opened into, and I checked it thoroughly. So did the other two time mages brought in. We all came to the same conclusion. There’s no possible way a gate could have been opened from there.”

I heard some whispers from behind. Without turning my head, I could see Solace staring at Sonder; she looked pissed off. I guess she hadn’t seen this one coming. Then again, until only a little while ago, neither had I.

“Were you able to detect gate magic signatures from anywhere else during that period?”

“No.”

“Then do you have any other explanation for how Vihaela was able to reach Morden’s cell?”

“At the moment, our working theory is that she entered it from the outside,” Sonder said. “Somehow she was able to travel through the void surrounding the facility. Unfortunately she was using a shroud effect with sufficient power that it wasn’t possible to view her directly.”

There was a pause. I felt the coroner’s eyes flick to me, and I knew what he was thinking. If they couldn’t come up with a plausible explanation as to how I could have let “Vihaela” in, any case against me would fall apart.

The coroner cleared his throat. “Thank you, Mage Sonder. No further questions.”

Sonder nodded, glanced at me, and left. “The court will now consider the evidence,” the coroner announced.

The murmur of conversations started up around the room. The coroner was conferring with the clerks, while off to one side Solace and Barrayar were having a whispered conversation. I couldn’t make out their words, but from their body language Solace looked angry. The conversation that really mattered, though, was one I couldn’t hear at all. The three Senior Council members at the back table had their heads together and were talking, their voices silenced by a magical barrier.

The Council members sitting at the table were Sal Sarque, Druss the Red, and Alma. Druss I wasn’t worried about: he was generally an ally of mine these days. Alma was a question mark. She’s an ally of Levistus, another member of the Senior Council, and Levistus is one of my oldest and bitterest enemies. On the other hand, Alma’s pragmatic, and if she didn’t think this case had a good enough chance of success, she’d vote to drop it. She would be the swing vote.

The third person sitting at that table was more of a problem. His name was Sal Sarque, a dark-skinned unsmiling man with close-cut white hair and a scar running the length of his scalp. He’s the de facto leader of the Crusader faction among the Light mages, and as far as he and his faction are concerned, the only good Dark mage is a dead one. He’d taken Morden’s appointment to the Council as a personal insult, and though I couldn’t prove it, I was pretty sure he’d been the one who’d given the order for Anne and me to be kidnapped and tortured. The fact that his previous aide ended up dead in the process had made things worse, if possible, and given the choice, I was pretty sure that he’d rather cut out the bother of a trial and just have me straight-up killed.

But, for now at least, Sal Sarque was too busy with the war to waste resources sending assassins, which meant all I had to worry about was the political sphere. The futures were shifting too much for me to predict the decision, but I was pretty sure this case wasn’t making it to trial. Which was good, because while Solace’s claims that I’d gated in Vihaela were complete bullshit, what I had done was arguably worse. It’s like the police investigating you for drug dealing when you’ve got a dead body in the basement. Sure, they might be on the wrong track, but if one person goes looking in the wrong place . . .

I’d done what I could to misdirect their attention. There was a reason that Anne wasn’t in court today, and in fact wasn’t in the War Rooms at all—I’d subtly nudged things so that the bulk of the attention would fall on me. I’d vehemently denied the gating-Vihaela charge, forcing them to focus on it. So far it was working, but I’d spent sleepless nights imagining one nightmare scenario after another. None of them had happened . . . yet.

The argument at the Senior Council table was still going. Sal Sarque looked angry, and it wasn’t hard to guess why. At last Alma held up her hand, and Sarque fell silent, glowering. Alma glanced towards the bench and the coroner walked over immediately. He listened as Alma spoke, then nodded and returned to his chair.

“All rise,” the bench clerk instructed.

I stood. Over to my side, Barrayar and Solace did the same.

“The full verdict of this court will be contingent on the conclusions delivered in the official report,” the coroner said. “However, the preliminary finding is that while various irregularities have been brought to light, there is insufficient evidence to issue an indictment against any of the inquiry subjects for breach of the Concord or any other capital offence. As such, pending the official report, no further action will be taken. This court is adjourned.”

Murmurs spread throughout the courtroom as conversations started up. At the back, the three Senior Council members rose to their feet and left through a private door. From his body language, I could tell Sal Sarque was pissed off, and Solace didn’t look happy either. Barrayar looked calm as always, and as I watched he picked up his notes, tapped them to the table to bring them in line, and left.

A couple of mages came to speak to me; one was a Keeper from the Order of the Star, the other a member of the bureaucracy whom I vaguely knew. They said various polite nothings and I responded in kind. There was a dark humour to it. When I’d walked into the courtroom this morning, no one had been willing to even meet my eyes. Now that the verdict was in, all of a sudden I was a person again. I ended the conversation as soon as I could, and walked over to the Keeper who hadn’t come over.

Caldera glanced up as I approached, then looked back down at her papers. She’s a woman of forty or so with a round face, red cheeks, and a heavyset build with arms thick enough for a nightclub bouncer. She’s a journeyman Keeper of the Order of the Star, and she’s been a journeyman for a very long time. It’s not because she’s bad at her job, or at least not at what her job’s supposed to be. But when it comes to climbing the Council hierarchy, it’s not what you do, it’s who you know. I’d joined the Keepers only a few years ago, and in that time I’d gone from Caldera’s subordinate, to the same rank, to being promoted way over her head. Caldera had never brought up the subject, but I was pretty sure she resented it, and it wasn’t the only grudge she was holding.

“You didn’t give evidence,” I said to Caldera.

“Wasn’t called.”

“I guess they thought your report was so thorough there wasn’t anything to add?”

Caldera shrugged.

I sighed. “How long are we going to keep doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“For two and a half years now you haven’t said a single word to me except when I ask you a question or the job demands it. It’s getting ridiculous.”

“Is it?”

“Can you maybe look at me when we’re talking?”

Caldera finally raised her eyes. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

“Well, I wanted to talk about that fight we had at Canary Wharf, but it’s pretty clear that’s never going to happen, so I’ve written that off as a bad job. Right now I’m just shooting for basic communication.”

“About?”

“How about the inquiry we just had? You have a problem with what I did? Are you pissed that I left you with Solace and Barrayar? Do you not care? What?”

Caldera shrugged.

“You don’t care?”

“You ran and left us holding the bag,” Caldera said. “Same as usual.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Way I remember it, pretty much every time I’ve fought with you, I end up getting the shit kicked out of me while you stay way back out of reach.”

I bit back an angry reply. What Caldera was saying was both true and blatantly unfair, given that she’s an earth mage who can literally shrug off bullets. “So is this it?” I said. “This is how all our conversations are going to go? You avoid me until I corner you, then you make passive-aggressive comments until I go away?”

Caldera studied me. “Where did you really go after that fight, Alex?”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Caldera said. “I know a bullshit story when I hear one.”

“It wasn’t bullshit.”

“Oh? You were telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth?”

“No one in this room was telling the truth,” I said. “You think this inquiry was commissioned because they wanted to know what happened? You think Barrayar and Solace were just being honest? It pisses me off the way you do this. They’ve been doing this shit for years, manipulating the system to try to get me, but when I play the same game back, oh, that’s terrible.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if you were a little straighter, you wouldn’t have to play games at all,” Caldera said. “I’m done going to bat for you. You want to keep trying to prove how you’re smarter than everyone else, you go right ahead.”

“You know what?” I said. “Screw you and your self-righteousness. I’ve been trying to make things up with you for years and you’ve brushed me off every time. Levistus and Barrayar and their team of psychopaths chased us literally to the other side of the world all for the sake of a grudge, and when that didn’t work, they planted bombs in Luna’s flat. You didn’t do shit to stop them, but hey, better blame me, right? Because otherwise you might have to admit to yourself that the guys you’re working for are just as bad as the ones you arrest every day.”

I turned on my heel and left before Caldera could answer. I could feel people watching me as I headed for the door, and that pissed me off further. I was tired of the looks, tired of the silent judgements, and tired of the Council in general. I left the court resisting the urge to bang the door behind me.

I took a roundabout route out of the War Rooms to give myself time to cool off. Walking gave me time to think, and as I did I realised why Caldera’s words had made me so angry. While Caldera has her flaws, she’s honest, and back when we’d worked together, we’d always been straight with each other. Nowadays I couldn’t do that. Dealing with the Council, I had to lie and evade all the damn time, and it was making me wonder if I was turning into the sort of person I’d always tried to avoid.

I ran into Sonder at the far side of the conservatory. He was talking to Captain Rain, an officer in the Order of the Star and my old boss. “. . . shouldn’t need you on Tuesday, but this one’s urgent,” Rain was saying. “We need it ASAP.”

“I’m snowed under with timesight cases that people want ASAP,” Sonder said. “I’ll try, but no promises.”

Rain nodded. “Whatever you can.” He glanced in my direction. “I’d better be going.” He gave me a nod and left.

Sonder turned in the direction Rain had and saw me. He didn’t look pleased but he didn’t run away. “Hey,” I said as I walked up.

“Hey.”

“Anything on our request for a scan of that facility?”

Sonder shook his head. “I just don’t have the hours. Maybe in a week or so, but . . .”

“We’re almost sure it was Crystal,” I said. “She’s still on the most-wanted list.”

“Every Dark mage linked to Richard Drakh is on the most-wanted list,” Sonder said. “You know how many of these requests I’m getting?”

You have the time to show up to inquiries, I wanted to say, but knew it was unfair. Sonder’s a rising star in the Council, but he’s not at the top yet. If they tell him to jump, he jumps. “Thanks for today.”

“For what?”

“The report you gave.”

Sonder shrugged. “I was just telling the truth.”

“That’s not always the most common commodity in this business.”

“I suppose,” Sonder said. “I’m guessing there’s something you wanted to talk about.”

I wanted to sigh. First Caldera, now Sonder. “Actually, I wanted to ask your advice.”

“Uh . . . okay.”

I started walking along the corridor, and after a moment’s pause, Sonder matched me. “Remember six years back, with that business in Fountain Reach?” I said. “You dug up some information on Jagadev. Specifically, his history with Variam and Anne.”

Sonder looked startled. “Oh. I did, didn’t I?”

“Have you told anyone else?”

Sonder shook his head. “To be honest, I’d forgotten about it.”

“I haven’t,” I said. “Do you think we should change that? Specifically, telling them?”

“Why?”

“It does kind of concern them.”

“Well, yes,” Sonder said. “I meant, why now?”

“I suppose I’m starting to feel as though the reasons to keep it a secret don’t really apply anymore.”

“I guess.”

“You sound doubtful.”

“Is this really the best time?” Sonder asked. “With the war on?”

“No,” I said. “But I’m not sure there ever will be a good time.” Sonder still didn’t seem convinced and I gave him a quizzical look. “Back then, you didn’t like the idea of keeping it a secret at all. You said that it was the truth and they ought to know.”

“I did?”

I nodded.

“Wow,” Sonder said. “I guess it really was a long time.”

“So you’d rather keep it quiet?”

“I don’t know,” Sonder said. “Is there really any point digging it up?”

“Let sleeping dogs lie?”

“More or less,” Sonder said. We’d made a circuit around the corridors, all the way back to where we’d started. He pulled out his phone and glanced at it. “I’ve got to go. I’m late for a meeting.”

“Okay.”

Sonder walked out, leaving me alone in the conservatory, and I watched him go. I thought about Sonder as I’d known him back then, earnest and apprehensive. He’d come across as naive, but he’d also been the kind to value honesty above everything else. I was pretty sure that if I’d asked him the same question back then, he’d have told me to tell the truth. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who’d changed.

There was another bit of information too. When Sonder had taken out his phone, I’d looked into the futures in which I’d snatched it out of his hands. Diviners have a lot of ways of spying on people; it’s something I avoid doing with my friends, but as I said, Sonder and I aren’t really friends anymore. The message hadn’t been about a meeting: it had been a request for scheduling a follow-up scan on San Vittore. Which meant this wasn’t over.

I sighed and turned to leave. Fighting summoned jinn was easier than this.