Forged

chapter 13

I stepped out of my cottage to find Karyos and Luna waiting in the clearing. “Heard from Vari?” I asked Luna.

“Yeah, he’s on standby. Again.” Luna shook her head. “I can’t believe Levistus is finally dead.”

I shut the door behind me. “Wanted to settle the score yourself?”

“No, I got over that way of thinking a long time ago. You really think you can pull this off?”

“One way or another. You good to stay here for a few hours?”

Luna frowned. “Be nice if you’d tell me why.”

I sighed. “I wish I knew.”

“You could always try, I don’t know, divining the future.”

“Don’t be snarky,” I told her. “I’ve tried. No matter how I conduct this audience with the Council, I can’t see any direct threat.”

“So what are you afraid of?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “That’s the problem. The futures look . . . volatile. I can’t see any threat right now, but that could change. And the sort of interview I’m about to have, with lots of unpredictability and decision points, is exactly the kind of thing that’s virtually impossible to see past.”

“But why do you want me here and not in my shop?” Luna asked. “If the Keepers are watching, it’s going to look suspicious as hell.”

“I know, but if anything happens, the Hollow’s a lot better protected. Please, Luna, just do this as a favour. It’ll put my mind at rest.”

Luna shrugged. “Well, I suppose I didn’t have anything really important to do. I’ll stay here till you get back.”

“Thanks.”

“Why did you also warn me?” Karyos asked. “You believe the Council will connect us?”

“Honestly, no,” I said. “It’s much simpler than that. I’ve lost too many people I care about by now, and you’re two of the only ones left. I’d have asked Vari to stay here as well if I thought he’d do it.”

“Yeah, fat chance,” Luna said. “Shouldn’t you be going?”

“Yes,” I said. But I still hesitated. “Hermes is here, right?”

Luna rolled her eyes. “Will you stop fussing? Look, we put up the gate wards on this place together. If the Council or someone else decides to break in, we are going to have more than enough time to do something about it. Now how about you start worrying about the problem you actually have?”

I wanted to say that Levistus’s shadow realm had had gate wards, too, and that hadn’t stopped me. But I knew that Luna’s response would be to ask whether there was anyone else running around with a fateweaver, and I’d have to answer no. There was still Richard to worry about, but if Richard had wanted to go after Luna, he’d had more than enough chances already and he hadn’t seemed to—

“Alex,” Luna said. “You’re going to be late.”

“All right. I’ll come back as soon as I have news.”

—

I gated to the spot I’d picked out for my audience with the Council. It was a clearing in a forestry area in Wales, in a dip between two hills. I’d picked out a selection of spots like this before my first time contacting the Council, and this was number three of ten. The others had been mostly in North and South America, but Wales felt appropriate. A lot of things had started here; this was a good place for them to end.

I made my preparations with more care than usual. Perimeter alarm focuses to warn me if anyone got close—my divination could do the same thing, but I wanted the extra layer of protection. Tripwires hidden in shadows between trees, where I could jump them but any pursuers wouldn’t see. Antipersonnel mines set up at key locations, where attackers would be funnelled into kill zones. Once I was done, I stepped back and studied my work.

It looked good. If anyone launched an attack, I should have more than enough time to decide whether to escape or to turn and fight. And to attack me, they’d have to find me, which would be quite a trick. I hadn’t used this site before, and in fact I hadn’t even decided to use this one at all until the very last minute. Once I started transmitting, they could track me down, but they’d have to get through my shroud, and it would be enormously difficult not to leave some warning that I’d sense well in advance. I checked back in with Luna and Karyos—they were fine. I checked in with November—he was safe in his new flat and reported nothing to be concerned about. I used the dreamstone to call Variam—he told me that he was on standby and no, he wasn’t being mobilised to go after me, and why was I sounding so worried if I wouldn’t tell him what about?

No matter what I did, I couldn’t sense any danger. Still, the uneasy feeling didn’t go away.

It was half an hour to the deadline when the first thing went wrong. The futures shifted and I could see that someone had the potential to find me. They weren’t here yet, but by the time the meeting was due to start, they’d have narrowed down my location and would be able to gate to me with little notice.

I could get away easily. But I’d spent hours preparing this site, and there was no way I’d be able to do all this setup again for a new location. Besides, if I did, what was to stop them following?

I could find some different and better-fortified location, but that would mean missing my window with the Council. That would send exactly the wrong message. I’d worked towards this for so long, I couldn’t screw it up now!

Shit. I checked the time. Twenty-seven minutes. What to do?

I paced, watching the futures grow more and more defined. I couldn’t see any evidence of actual aggression. Maybe they weren’t here for a fight.

With eighteen minutes to go, I made the decision to hold my ground. I’d wait him out, pretend he wasn’t there, and dare him to do something about it.

Fifteen minutes. Ten. I checked the futures obsessively. At this point it was pretty much useless and I knew it, but old habits die hard. Five minutes. One.

My com focus flashed exactly on time. I took a deep breath, then channelled through it. “Good afternoon, Alma,” I said. “It’s been a while.”

“Verus,” Alma said, her voice cold. “I believe you had something to discuss.”

Futures unfolded before me, different approaches, different words. Enough to tell me who was listening. “And Druss, and Bahamus, and Spire,” I said. “Oh, and can’t forget you, Undaaris.”

“We don’t have time for games,” Alma said. “Say your piece and get out.”

All of a sudden, I was calm. The focus was audio-only, but in my mind’s eye I could see the people I was talking to, sitting around the Star Chamber’s long table. Alma, straight-backed and unsmiling, grey-streaked hair framing a pair of cold eyes. Bahamus, silver-haired and aristocratic, courteous but missing nothing. Druss, a bear of a man with a thick beard. Undaaris, his eyes flicking from one person to another. And last of all, Spire, tall and silent and aloof.

But there were two more chairs around the head of that table, and right now, it was those two empty seats that the remaining members of the Senior Council would be thinking about. I’d sat at that table in the Star Chamber so many times, but always as an observer. This time I was the one in the driver’s seat.

“Oh, I’d say you quite clearly have time for games, Alma, given that for the past week you’ve done nothing else. First you stonewall me while your hunters follow my trail, then you pretend to agree to a negotiation and send a small army. You’ve tried to kill me, you’ve tried to betray me, and most importantly, you’ve wasted my time. On the positive side, this time you’re at least picking up the call yourself, which suggests you might be starting to learn from experience.”

“You have your audience, Verus,” Alma said. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it.” If Alma’s voice was cold, mine was ice. “You will listen to me because you are fully aware of what the consequences will be if you don’t.”

“Verus,” Bahamus cut in before Alma could reply. “Let us try to stay on point, please. I believe you have a proposal.”

“I have exactly the same proposal that I gave you a week ago. An end to hostilities. It would have saved a great many deaths if you’d taken me seriously the first time.”

“There were reasons for our decision.”

“Yes. The biggest reason was sitting in the chair to your right and he was called Levistus. That reason has now been removed.”

There was an uncomfortable pause. “This really all you want, Verus?” Druss said. “Everyone walks away?”

“It’s all I wanted from the beginning. You’re the ones who’ve been making it complicated.”

“Because you still refuse to recognise what you are asking,” Alma said sharply. “You broke the Concord.”

“Deal with it.”

“You cannot break the most important laws of this country and tell the Light Council to ‘deal with it.’”

“Yes, I can.”

“Verus, be reasonable,” Bahamus said. “This is not only about you. Even if we were to overlook your . . . activities . . . the current state of your compatriot Miss Walker cannot be ignored.”

“You are directly responsible for the current state of Anne Walker,” I said. “And when I say you, I mean the Council as a whole. For years you turned a blind eye while mages like Sagash abused her. You voted to sentence her to death. After that was rescinded, Keepers reporting to Sal Sarque and Levistus attempted to kidnap and torture her, not once but multiple times. Maybe not all of you were responsible as individuals, but the Council is very much responsible as a whole, and the five of you lead the Council. And the Council treated her so badly that when she was trapped between that jinn and a Council task force, she turned to the jinn. Do you realise what it says about your behaviour that a jinn seemed like the better option?”

“Regardless of any sympathy I have for her current state—and I do have some, though you may not believe it—the fact remains that in her present condition, she is simply too dangerous. If you really want to help her, you should be trying to bring her in.”

“And if you wanted my help, you shouldn’t have sentenced us to death. Again.”

“The order was for your arrest,” Druss said.

“And how long do you think I’d have lasted in a Keeper cell?” I asked. “Whatever. I didn’t call to argue. I called to deliver a message. Do not go near me, do not go near Anne, and do not go near anyone I place under my protection. Clear?”

“We cannot simply ignore Anne,” Bahamus said.

“I will take care of Anne if it becomes necessary. Until and unless things reach that point, you will not move against her.”

“Your intentions regarding Anne Walker are irrelevant,” Alma said sharply. “You do not have the authority to make demands.”

“My authority is the two empty seats at your table.”

Alma’s voice was cold and menacing. “Are you attempting to threaten us?”

“That was not me threatening you,” I said. “This is me threatening you.” I leant forward and put every bit of my intensity into my voice. “There were seven of you at that table when you voted to sentence me to arrest and interrogation and death, and when you sent those Keepers to hunt me to the corners of the earth. There were six of you at that table when you refused my offer of a ceasefire and ordered Talisid’s team to ambush me. There are five of you at that table now. If you refuse my offer again, I will continue this war with every resource and ally at my disposal. I will use the information from Levistus’s files to sow discord in your ranks and destroy your base of support. I will ally with your enemies and use the information I’ve gathered over the years to strike where you are most vulnerable. And if that still doesn’t work, then I will come after you personally. I will arrange your destruction at the hands of others, as I did Sal Sarque, and I will kill you with my own hands, as I did Levistus. I will hunt you down one by one, so that there are four of you around that table, then three, then two, and if you still won’t listen then I will keep going until every last member of the Senior Council is dead and the Star Chamber is empty except for a records clerk sitting in an empty room!”

There was dead silence. I could almost hear the shock. No one spoke to the Council like that.

“You overreach yourself.” Alma tried to rally. “You were fortunate against Levistus. You will not be so lucky again.”

“Do you have any idea how many mages before you have told me that? Last night it was Levistus, and Lorenz and Caldera, and Levistus’s adepts, and Levistus’s security. Before that it was Talisid and his team. Before that it was Symmaris. Before that it was Jagadev. Before that it was Sal Sarque. Before that it was Onyx and Pyre. Every last one of them at some point looked at me, weighed up what they thought they knew, and decided that they liked their chances. Every last one of them is now defeated, dead, or both. So when you decide you can take me, Alma, I want you to understand very clearly that you are just the latest in a line of hundreds of people who thought the exact same thing!”

“Is that really all you’re bringing to the table, Verus?” Bahamus asked. “Threats?”

“Yes. Because for all your talk of law and stability, the only thing that you and the rest of the Council have ever really respected is power and the threat of force. There’s no real difference between you and the Dark mages. You’re both playing the same game; you’re just on different teams. So let me make this very clear. You will accept this ceasefire and you will stop coming after me or I will destroy you.”

There was no sound at all from the focus. Seconds ticked by.

“We will consider your proposal,” Bahamus said at last in an expressionless voice.

“Consider, then choose,” I said. “I’ll be waiting.”

The focus went dead. I stood in the clearing. Far overhead, clouds drifted in a clear sky. I watched the futures shift.

It was fifteen minutes later that the focus reactivated. “Verus?” Bahamus said.

“I’m listening.”

“We have . . . after some consideration . . . decided to accept your proposal,” Bahamus said. “We will cease any offensive operations against you and your immediate associates. Your legal status will become that of an unaffiliated mage. In exchange, you will undertake to take no aggressive action against us or provide any assistance to our enemies in the current war. Further details will be negotiated at a later date. Is this acceptable?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” Bahamus paused. “I hope we can develop a better relationship in the future.”

“I really don’t care,” I said. “Good-bye.”

I cut the focus. The light on the item went out and the connection went dead. I let out a long, slow breath.

And then, from the trees, I heard the sound of clapping.

I turned to see Morden step out into the clearing. The Dark mage was smiling. “Very well done,” he told me.

“On the one hand, thanks,” I said. “On the other, could you be a little less patronising?”

“My apologies,” Morden said. “But I meant it sincerely. You conducted your negotiation skilfully and with force.”

“I suppose I should take the compliment. What are you doing here, Morden?”

“Nothing very important. This is more of a social visit.”

“Tracking me down after the amount of work I put in to stay undetected today is not my definition of a social visit.”

“I suppose I could have left a phone call, but I felt this would be a better way of getting your attention.”

“Okay, you’ve got it,” I said. My guard was still very much up. I couldn’t sense any danger, but I wasn’t going to relax until I was back in the Hollow. “What do you want?”

“It’s a courtesy notice, really,” Morden said. “I thought I should inform you of my retirement.”

I blinked. “Your what?”

“I feel as though the time has come for me to exit the political sphere,” Morden said. “The British one, at least.”

“And do what? Teach adepts?”

“Possibly. I took up the practice through necessity but I’ve discovered I quite enjoy it.”

“Right,” I said. “I don’t want to come across as discouraging here, but I don’t think the Council is going to take ‘I’m retiring to become a teacher’ as a valid reason to leave you alone.”

“Not if presented that way, no,” Morden said. “Which brings me to the other reason I was observing your negotiations. I had something of a personal interest in your success.”

I frowned.

“The Council and I have been in contact,” Morden said. “They are currently under the impression that you and I are acting as associates.”

“I’m not working for you anymore.”

“I didn’t say you were. Still, given the assistance I’ve provided . . . and that you requested . . . it’s not an unreasonable conclusion.”

I started to answer, then paused. I’d approached Morden in his shadow realm, and it had been on his guidance that I’d attacked Heron Tower. Then he’d helped with that diversion last night as well . . . “I suppose not,” I said. “Though I don’t see—”

I stopped as I remembered what Bahamus had said. We will cease any offensive operations against you and your immediate associates. I’d assumed he meant Anne, but if he had, why hadn’t he used her name? “Associates” implied more than one . . .

I looked at Morden. Morden looked back at me with his eyebrows raised.

“You used me for this,” I said.

“Just as you used me.”

“I wondered why you were being so helpful,” I said. “Let me guess. You also gave them the impression that we both had access to Levistus’s blackmail files, and it’d be in their best interest to leave you alone.”

Morden inclined his head slightly.

I studied Morden. “I could tell them you were lying.”

“You could,” Morden said. “Though it would result in a rather awkward conversation where they attempted to decide which of us to believe. I also suspect it would encourage them to reconsider your deal. You forced them to the negotiating table by projecting an image of strength, but if they sense they could play the two of us off against one another . . .”

Shit. Yeah, that was exactly how the Council would see it. I might be able to make it work, but it’d be a risk . . .

. . . a risk that would gain me nothing. It wouldn’t help me, it wouldn’t help Anne, and it wouldn’t help my friends. On the other hand, if I kept quiet, it’d give me leverage over Morden in the future. He wouldn’t be able to threaten me the way he had in the past.

And besides . . . did I actually care whether Morden got one over on the Council?

Not really.

I looked at Morden. He was watching me calmly, and I wondered how much of my thoughts he’d been able to guess. “Why are you really doing this?” I said. “And don’t tell me it’s for health reasons, or that you want to spend time with your family. You and Richard worked towards this for years. Why step away now?”

Morden nodded. “I am willing to gratify your curiosity, on condition that you keep the remainder of our conversation private.”

I thought for a second. “All right.”

“My arrangement with Richard worked most effectively while the two of us operated in separate spheres,” Morden said. “I was on the Council and dealt with Light mages; he stayed in the shadows and dealt with Dark ones. Unfortunately, once I made my final break with the Council, that was no longer sustainable. For a while I took the role of teacher, training adepts in Arcadia, but the distance between us was greatly reduced. As time passed, Richard and I were forced to take decisions that encroached upon each other’s freedom of action.”

“You wanted different things,” I translated. “The differences weren’t a problem to begin with because you weren’t in a position to act freely. Once you started winning, though . . .”

“A common problem with revolutions,” Morden said. “Fortunately, I had been aware of the risk, and decided that my stewardship of Arcadia would be my final act in this conflict. Once it was destroyed, I began making preparations to take my leave.”

I studied Morden, thinking. “Seems to me that if you saw it coming that far in advance, you should have prepared your departure a bit more carefully.”

“Perhaps.”

“I think you did prepare it more carefully,” I said. “Then all of a sudden you had to improvise. Something happened to move up your schedule, didn’t it?”

Morden nodded. “While my issues with Richard were a source of tension, they were not immediately urgent.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “Anne.”

“Richard intended to employ Anne and her jinn as his trump card in a series of key conflicts with the Council. Your actions not only prevented this, but introduced a new and highly unpredictable variable. Richard has been forced to modify his plans.”

“Which plans?”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

I snorted.

“In any case, I feel that this is an appropriate moment for me to make my exit,” Morden said. “You, Anne, the jinn, Richard, and the Council are all quite busy with one another, and I see no particular reason to continue to involve myself.”

“In other words, you don’t want to end up like Jagadev or Levistus.”

“Essentially.”

“I wouldn’t really have pegged you as the type to run.”

“Verus, when you reach my age, you’ll learn that sometimes the best course of action is simply to walk away. Both Jagadev and Levistus ultimately failed to do that.”

“Walking away wouldn’t do very much good in my case.”

“Perhaps in your case I should have said ‘if’ instead of ‘when.’”

I gave Morden a narrow look. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

“I think, thus far, you have played your cards in this conflict quite well,” Morden said. “However, your successes have come from joining forces against mutual enemies. As the number of players on the field continues to fall, that will become steadily more difficult.”

“You’re making it sound as though there’s something in the future you’re trying to avoid,” I said slowly. “Exactly how far away is this something?”

“A good question,” Morden said. “However, I suspect it’s one you’ll quickly be able to answer yourself.” He nodded to me. “Good-bye, Verus. Though we’ve had our differences, I’ve found our association to be quite educational. I will be happy to renew our relationship at some point in the future. But not just now.”

Morden walked away. I watched him disappear into the trees, until I felt the signature of a gate spell and knew he was gone. I had the feeling I wouldn’t be seeing him anytime soon.

Morden’s last words had left me uneasy. I scanned the futures, first quickly, then in detail. Still no danger. The clearing was empty of anything that could be a possible threat. I looked to see what would happen if I tried contacting other people . . .

And froze.

Oh shit.

There was no time to gather up my traps and gear, no time to use staging points. I pulled out my focus for the Hollow and made the quickest gate I’d ever done in my life.

—

I felt the difference the instant I set foot in the Hollow. The woods were hushed and the birds weren’t singing. There was a brooding, waiting feeling to the air, like approaching thunder.

I broke into a run and as I did, I reached out to Luna. Where are you?

Karyos’s clearing. Luna’s voice was terse. Hurry.

The journey from our front door to Karyos’s clearing was maybe a minute at a full sprint. I made it in less than that. As I broke through the treeline, I skidded to a halt.

The image of Karyos’s clearing made me think of a painting, one of those classical scenes with the figures captured on the brink of action. Karyos was under her tree, standing protectively in front of the trunk. To her right was Luna, close enough to Karyos to support her but not so close that an attack against one of them could threaten both. Luna’s stance looked casual, but she held her whip in one hand and a shortsword in the other, and I knew she was ready to burst into movement.

Hermes was on the far side of the clearing. The blink fox was almost hidden in the foliage, and only the amber gleam of his eyes marked him out in the shadows. He was crouched low to the ground, tail and paws flat on the grass, ready to run or teleport. Hermes, Luna, and Karyos formed a narrow arc, their gazes all fixed on the clearing’s other side.

Occupying the point where their gazes met was Anne. Alone out of all the people in the clearing, she looked relaxed, standing in a lazy hipshot stance. The black dress seemed to soak up the light, emphasising the pale skin of her arms and legs.

“Oh, look,” Anne said. “Daddy’s home.” From her tone of voice, it was clear she was not happy to see me.

“If you wanted to stop by for dinner,” I told her, “you could have asked.”

“What I wanted was to talk to Luna without you breathing down my neck.” There was an edge to Anne’s voice. “And we should have been done by now, except she keeps stalling.”

How bad is it? I thought at Luna.

Luna’s answer was instant. Bad.

I gave Anne a shrug. “If all you want to do is chat, I’m not going to stop you.”

“Good.” Anne’s tone was threatening, but she turned back to Luna. “Okay, you’ve got Alex to hold your hand. Now are you going to give me a straight answer?”

“It’s not that simple.” Luna sounded like she was choosing her words very carefully. “You talk about straight answers, but you won’t give me one.”

I’d already reached out with the dreamstone and found the person I needed. Without waiting for questions, I poured thoughts and images through the link far quicker than could be conveyed in words.

There was no pause before the reply. On my way.

“There is nothing complicated about this.” Anne was obviously running out of patience. “You pick up the monkey’s paw, you win. Which part are you not following?”

“The part where that thing eats anyone who tries to use it,” Luna said. “Every time I say that, you just brush me off.”

“I told you, I’ll handle it.”

“Handle it how? It’s done the same thing to the last thousand people who picked it up, why would I want to be number one thousand and one?”

“The monkey’s paw isn’t the only thing around here with a jinn.”

“And what if the other one doesn’t cooperate?” Luna asked. “You keep talking as if you own it.”

“Okay, I’m getting really tired of this,” Anne said. She swivelled. “Karyos.”

Karyos inclined her head. “Lifeweaver.”

“Sorry I wasn’t there when you hatched,” Anne said. “You know how it is. How about I make it up to you?”

“In what way?”

“Jinn don’t have to partner with humans,” Anne said. “They prefer them, but nonhumans work too. What do you say? You’ve been at the mercy of mages long enough. How about turning the tables?”

“I thank you for your offer,” Karyos said. Her manner was grave and formal, at odds with her young face. “But I regret that I must decline.”

“Why?” Anne demanded. “Mages have been after you for centuries, haven’t they? They invaded the Hollow, burnt your old tree. Are you just going to sit there and take it?”

“The path you offer would lead to the burning of every tree in my grove until the Hollow was nothing but ash.” Karyos’s voice was clear. “You look at me through the eyes of a human girl, but I know you for what you are, ancient one. I will not be a soldier in your war.”

“Don’t call me that,” Anne said sharply.

Karyos looked back at her in silence.

“Hermes,” Anne called. “How about you come with me at least?”

Hermes stayed crouched. His tail curled between his legs.

“Seriously?” Anger flashed across Anne’s face. “I was there when we pulled you out of Sagash’s shadow realm, you ungrateful little—!” With an effort Anne cut herself off.

Hermes sank a little lower to the ground, eyes glinting.

“Well.” Anne turned to me. “So that’s how it is.” She gave me a too-bright smile. “I’m losing all the kids in the divorce, huh?”

“They’re not buying what you’re selling, Anne,” I said. “Though I’m not sure I should be calling you ‘Anne’ anymore.”

“That’s who I am.”

“I’m not talking about your other self,” I said. “I don’t think either of you is in the driver’s seat right now.” Anne was about to speak, but I kept talking. “What are you trying to recruit all these people for? You’re putting together an army, right? What are you going to do once you’ve got it?”

“Whatever I have to.”

“And what’s the endgame?” I said. “Rule the world? Kill anyone who gets in your way? Or just keep fighting until someone stops you?”

Anne looked back at me angrily.

“Think, Anne,” I said softly. “Think about all the time we spent together. Living with us in the shop in Camden. Living alone in your flat above that little nature reserve in Honor Oak. You never wanted this. Not even when I was talking with you in Elsewhere. You wanted to be powerful, wanted to get your own back . . . all of that, yes. But you weren’t a megalomaniac.”

“It’s not . . .” Anne hesitated. “Okay, look, I might have had to make some . . . compromises. You don’t get anything for free, right?”

“This is beyond compromises,” I said. “The jinn’s taking you over. This isn’t you.”

“I don’t . . .” Anne trailed off. She shook her head, and all of a sudden she looked vulnerable, afraid. “Look, I need this. Can’t you guys help? Don’t you owe me that much?”

It was Luna who answered. “I owe you more than this much,” Luna said. “I’ll do whatever I can for you and I always will. But it has to be for you. Not some creature wearing your body.”

“We can sort that out later.” Anne held a hand out towards Luna. “Just come with me. Please?”

Luna looked back at her, and very slowly, shook her head.

The futures danced, but not towards a choice. One by one, the possibilities heading in a certain direction winked out. Multiple branches were left, but now they were all pointing the same way.

Anne’s face darkened. “So it’s going to be like this?”

Uh-oh. I reached out through the dreamstone. Luna—

I know! Stop distracting me.

“I’ve been there for all of you over and over again,” Anne said. “The whole reason you’re alive is because of me. Now that I really need it, you can’t do this one thing?”

“It’s not about—” Luna began.

“No,” Anne said. “I’m sick of hearing you say the same things. I’ve really been trying to be nice, but you are just not listening.”

“She is listening.” I kept my voice calm, but I could feel things slipping away. “But you’re not doing much to reassure us here.”

“I’m not here to reassure you. I’m here to call in some favours, which you don’t seem very keen on doing.”

“Look,” I said. “We don’t have to—”

“No, I think I’m done talking,” Anne said. “This is what you always do, isn’t it? You spin stories and you make it sound oh so reasonable. And all the time you’re setting them up for a fall. You’ve done it with everyone else, now you’re trying it with me, right?”

“I’m not trying anything with you,” I said. But it was hopeless and I knew it. Already I was planning out which way to move.

“Sure you’re not.” Anne raised a hand and snapped her fingers.

Movement stirred from around us. Slender shadows appeared from all around the clearing, slipping between the trees. Cold eyes stared at Luna and at Karyos and at me. They were jann, and this time there were more of them. A lot more.

“Okay,” Anne said again. She made no signal that I could see, but one of the jann to her left stepped forward into the clearing. It held out something in its claws, a lacquered tube of blue and white. The monkey’s paw.

“Maybe you might have forgotten,” Anne said, “but I helped build this place. I know how to get through the gate wards. And I know where you keep your stuff.” She looked at Luna. “Now I’m done asking nicely. You are coming with me and then you’re going to see I’m right. Only question is, are we doing this the easy way or the hard way?”

Luna stood very straight. “I don’t belong to you.”

The jann moved. Claws flexed; slender bodies slipped forward. They were all around me and closing in from every direction; already I could barely see anyone else through the ring of shadowy figures and cold, flat eyes. Yet only half of the jann were surrounding me; the rest were around Luna.

I’d kept up the mental link, and through it I could hear Luna’s thoughts, tense but calm. Alex, if you’ve got any ideas, now would be a really good time.

I felt a weird tug of déjà vu. I’d been in this position before, in Sagash’s castle, an army of magical creatures around with no way out. Except back then Anne had been the one at my side. We’d come full circle.

Try to make it to my cottage, I told Luna. It’s you she’s after.

And the fifty jann in the way?

I’ll do what I can.

“I haven’t told them to hurt you,” Anne said. I could only see glimpses of her through the closing ring of jann. “If you just—”

Luna moved. I couldn’t see through the crowd of jann, but I saw the aura of her curse flash, and a jann gave a weird whining scream. Then my weapons were out and I was charging.

The nearest jann reached for me, claws extending. I evaded easily, shot it through the head, rammed my knife through its body and ripped it out sideways. It staggered, still moving, until two more strikes finished it off. But in the time it had taken me to kill one, five more were on me.

The future narrowed into a whirl of strikes and grasping claws. I slid between the futures in which I was hurt or pinned, finding paths of safety through the danger. I’d lost sight of everyone else. I could sense magic from where I’d last seen Karyos and Luna, and knew that they were fighting, but the press of jann all around me was too close to do more. I ducked under an arm, slashed it in the same motion, kicked another aside, fired into a shadowy face. They were trying to wound and catch me, but not actually kill me, and that gave me an edge. And their sheer numbers were working against them. I knew Anne was near, but she couldn’t see me through the crowd, and any attack spell she tried to use would hit the jann instead of me.

But it wasn’t enough. I’d gone out today equipped to deal with the Council, not a horde of summoned monsters. My knife and gun were poor weapons against the shadowy bodies of the jann—they had no veins to open or vital organs to pierce. Enough damage could destroy their physical form and banish them, but my weapons couldn’t deal that much damage that quickly.

Alex! Luna called.

I tried to dodge past a jann towards where I’d last seen Luna; two more blocked my way and forced me back. I can’t get through—

I sensed something over the miasma of background magic: a gate flicker. Hope leapt within me. Cancel that. Just hold on.

There was panic in Luna’s thoughts. Help!

Hold on!

Three jann attacked me from all directions. I managed to dodge two, contorting; the third hit me, its claws scraping my back. My armour became rigid, deflecting the blow. I spun into the jann, twisted to trip it, but already another was reaching for me.

Alex! There was pain in Luna’s thoughts now, the sense of flowing blood. Too many!

I didn’t have time to answer. Everything was a rush of violence and flashing claws. The light seemed to be fading. I wove through the melee, losing all sense of direction, focused on the future coming closer. Come on, come on . . . The whirl of claws drove me to a halt, and it was all I could do to dodge them, counting down in my head. Four, three, two, one . . .

The sky lit up with fire.

Looking up, I saw a figure descending on wings of flame. Variam. His spell was slowing his fall, and as he sank he raised a hand, fingers extended.

Bursts of heat scorched the clearing, tearing holes in the crowd. Jann screamed, their bodies flaring like paper in a bonfire. All of a sudden I could see again, and I could make out Luna just a little distance away.

Darkness seemed to bloom, and Anne stepped out of the crowd. Her eyes flashed with anger, and behind her I could half see, half feel the jinn, unfolding like a shadow. A green-black wave of death flashed upwards at Variam: he threw up a shield of fire and the spells met with a clap of thunder.

I was already running, aiming for Luna. A jann tried to get in my way and I slashed it and kept going. Luna had two jann trying to pull her to the ground; she’d lost her wand and was struggling to stay on her feet. Hermes blinked into existence behind one jann, sank his teeth into the back of its ankle, blinked away again as it lashed out. The distraction let Luna pull an arm free, stab the second jann, then break away.

I heard a shout from Anne, and turned to see her point at us. “Stop them!” She took a step towards us, but a wall of fire from Variam cut her off and she jumped back with a curse.

Variam had burnt at least ten jann to ash. There were still dozens more. Every one of them charged us.

Luna and I turned and ran. The jann were converging on us, and we sprinted into the trees, running side by side. I couldn’t see Variam or Karyos or Hermes, and I couldn’t spare the time to check; that many jann hitting us at a full charge would bring us down in seconds. We wove through the trees, hearing the crash and snap of foliage behind us as the jann tried to force their way through.

Vari— Luna said.

He’s doing his job; we need to do ours. Get to my cottage—weapons.

We broke out of the woods twenty yards from my little house. The sky was still lighting up from the battle behind, but we’d gained a few seconds on our pursuers. I ran to my front door and yanked it open with Luna right behind.

I took two steps inside and paused. In one corner was my black weapons bag. My MP7 was still lying on top: I hadn’t touched it since last night. It would be better than my handgun, but not by much. The shortsword in the bag underneath might be better still.

But propped in the corner where I’d left it was the spear I’d taken from Levistus’s shadow realm. The long, slightly curved blade glinted in the light from outside, and I could sense something from the weapon, something awake and hungry.

Sometimes you have the time to divine the future and figure out a plan. Sometimes you have to trust your instincts. I tossed my empty gun onto the desk, grabbed the spear, and walked back out of the cottage just as the first jann burst from the tree line.

Time seemed to slow as I strode across the clearing. Three, seven, a dozen jann streamed from the trees, converging on me. Behind them, the sky flashed dark green and fire red in the light of Variam and Anne’s battle. The first jann was a couple of steps ahead of the others, and it charged, claws extended. I brought the spear across—

The spear cut the jann in half. The blade lit up with red light as it carved through the centre of the jann’s body, leaving a dull red glow on the top and bottom halves of the jann’s torso. There was so little resistance that I nearly fell.

I managed to recover my balance just in time to catch the second jann with a backswing, then set the spear against the charge of the third. The second one was cut in half just like the first; the third impaled itself in its rush. It flung back its head, and a high, whining scream filled the air, then red light flared from within its chest and it burned from the inside out. The spear seemed alive in my hands, radiating a fierce joy. It wanted more.

More were coming. Jann were pouring from the tree line and they threw themselves at me, ignoring the threat of the spear. I struck and dodged, using every bit of my skill and magic. No human would have fought so suicidally, but the jann seemed to care about nothing except Anne’s command, and their total lack of self-preservation pushed me to my limits. Claws scraped at my armour. I’d never used a spear in combat, but I’m good with a staff, and the weapons aren’t so different. The spear itself seemed to help, twisting in my hands to slash and impale, revelling in the slaughter. Dimly I was aware of Luna guarding my back, but I had no attention to spare. Strike with the haft, reverse and thrust, tear the blade out with the next slash. A blow caught my head; another jann grappled my leg, and I brought the spear around high to low, cutting through its arms. Parry and dodge, find the thread through the futures, kill, kill, kill—

Panting, I rammed the spear through the chest of a jann, watching it jerk and spasm as red energy burnt through it, and realised that it was the last one. All around me, black bodies littered the clearing, the first of them already starting to dissolve into smoke. My breath was ragged and the blood was pounding in my head. I had no idea how long the fight had lasted; it could have been ten minutes or ten seconds.

“Come on.” Luna was panting as well; she looked exhausted, and now that I had the chance to notice, I could see that there was blood down her right arm. Still, her eyes were fixed on the lights in the sky. “Help Vari.”

My muscles felt like water and all I wanted to do was rest. I managed to nod, and broke into a jog, back towards Karyos’s clearing.

We came out of the trees to see Anne and Variam facing off against one another, fifty feet apart. A shield of flame surrounded Variam, making him hard to look at; only his eyes and his dark face showed above the flickering fire. Karyos stood a little way behind. The hamadryad looked hurt, but she was staying near her tree. And opposite them both was Anne, green-black light wreathing her. The shadow of the jinn extended behind and above her, a looming presence, but Anne still looked very human, and very pissed off.

“What is your problem!” Anne shouted at Variam. “Can’t you take a hint?”

“I saw this coming a long time ago.” Variam watched Anne, his dark eyes unreadable. “Alex is dumb enough to trust you. I’m not.”

“I wouldn’t have to do this if you’d all stop fighting!” Anne turned to glare at me and Luna. “Oh, and you’re here as well. Did those jann round you up? No, of course they didn’t, there’s no way they could possibly do anything useful.”

Fires were burning in half a dozen places around the clearing. Karyos’s tree seemed intact, but others had been charred, and more had been knocked over, branches and tree trunks snapped off as if by some invisible force. The spear seemed to quiver in my hands, pulling towards Anne. It wanted her . . . or the thing inside.

“How the hell are you still up?” Anne demanded of Variam. “Did you take up Harvesting in your spare time or what?”

“Like I said,” Variam said. “I saw this coming. You, though—I bet you didn’t make any plans at all. Just figured you could win without even trying.”

Anne narrowed her eyes at Variam. “It’s that cloak. Isn’t it?”

I couldn’t see through Variam’s flame shield, but now that I looked, I could sense another magical aura wrapped around him. Maybe it was the item he’d taken from Jagadev . . .

“Anne!” Luna said. “Stop! You have to see this isn’t working.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, shut up,” Anne said. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but there is a really good reason I’m doing this. As soon as the Council are done with their war with Richard, they’re going to be after us again, and who’s going to stop them? You’ve just been hiding in your shop hoping they’ll take someone else first. Vari’s working for them. The only one of you who’s done anything useful is Alex, and he still needed me to do the heavy lifting. If you don’t have a jinn of your own, then it’s just a matter of time before you end up the same way I did!”

“The Council aren’t going after her,” I told Anne.

Anne snorted. “Seen that in the future too?”

“Did you really think you were the only one who’d noticed we had a problem?” I said. “While you’ve been running around settling old scores, I’ve been calling in favours and putting together a plan. A plan which just came off. As of an hour ago, the Council have agreed to a truce. They won’t come after me or my associates. I even got them to specifically include you.”

Anne paused. “Well, they’re lying.”

“No, they’re not. Because this time I made sure I had enough leverage to back it up. Our war with the Council’s over.”

“Bullshit.”

“You did all this for nothing, Anne,” I said calmly. “You’ve been telling yourself that there’s no other way, right? Attacking me and Luna, having to fight Vari, all the compromises you made and whatever you’ve had to promise that jinn . . . in your head, it was all okay because you were the hero. But you haven’t saved anyone. Right now, you’re the one that Luna and Vari are trying to save each other from.”

Anne opened her mouth for a retort and nothing came out. She stared between me and Luna and Vari and for once had nothing to say. Emotions battled in her face, shame against anger.

“It’s not too late,” Luna said quickly. “You’ve hurt me, you’ve hurt Karyos, but it’s nothing you can’t fix. Nobody’s dead, not yet.”

“And if someone is ending up dead,” Variam cut in, “you should think about whether it might be you.”

Anne hesitated, and in one of those strange moments of insight I was suddenly sure that what Luna and Variam had done was enough. Dark Anne was ruthless and she was violent and she was terrible at thinking long-term, but she wasn’t a total psychopath. She did care about some people, the three of us most of all. We’d shown her that, to beat us, she’d have to risk killing us, and that wasn’t a price she was willing to pay.

Unfortunately, that was only a price that Anne wasn’t willing to pay. And though Anne didn’t know it, she wasn’t calling the shots anymore.

“Okay,” Anne said. Her face hardened. “Okay.”

“You started this fight with one of you and fifty jann,” Variam told her. “Now there’s one of you and zero jann. Let me break down the maths on that for you. You’re losing.”

“One of me?” Anne said softly. “Is that what you think?”

The green light around Anne seemed to die, but the darkness grew. The presence behind her loomed larger, shadows spreading across the clearing like giant, batlike wings, a sense of something watching, cold and hungry. Anne spoke again and there was an echo to her voice, dissonant and frightening. “I’ve been holding back from the moment I stepped in here. I think it’s time I showed you what you’re really dealing with.”

Vari, Luna! I snapped out through the dreamstone. Shield!

A sphere of green-black light flared outwards from Anne. It was a basic attack spell, one I’d seen before from death mages, but never on this scale. Normally my best defence against battle-magic is evasion, but evasion only works if there’s somewhere to evade to. This was a full sphere, hitting everything around her. The amount of power it must have taken was enormous. No battle-mage I’d ever met could cover half that volume.

I forced the best future I could with the fateweaver, and twisted to let my back armour take the blast, trying to lessen the impact. It did a little, but not enough. Pain and nausea swept over me, draining my energy. I stumbled and fell, black spots swimming in my vision.

Through blurry eyes I could see that Luna was on her knees. Anne was already casting another spell, this one something I’d never seen. It looked like the teleportation spells space mages used, but its weave was alien, utterly different from human magic. In one hand she was holding the gate focus that she’d used to enter our shadow realm; the other was extended towards Luna, and a net of black lines wove outward, growing through the air towards Luna like shoots of a plant.

But she’d forgotten Variam. Alone out of the four of us, Variam had a real shield, and with the instant’s warning he’d managed to weather Anne’s spell. Flame darted from his hand, blocking off the black tendrils from reaching Luna.

The grey mist of Luna’s curse darted out.

It all happened too fast to see. Luna’s curse intersected Anne and Variam’s spells, and as the three magics met, energy burst outward in a clap of thunder. Every hair in my body stood on end and the world went white.

Somehow I made it to my feet. I couldn’t see or hear, but I still had my divination and I looked ahead, searching for danger to me or to anyone else. But there was nothing. The futures were clear. Gradually my vision returned, revealing an empty clearing, the grass pressed flat and leaves blown from the trees. Fires were still burning, but the sense of menace was gone.

I looked around as the spots receded and the ringing faded from my ears. Karyos was still there, rising a little shakily from beside the tree. Luna was struggling to her feet. The silver mist of her curse was barely visible; it was returning, seeping back along her limbs, but it seemed to be recovering, as if it had been depleted.

There was no sign of Anne. And there was no sign of Variam.

“Vari,” Luna called, looking around. “Vari!” She turned to me. “Where is he?”

I closed my eyes, reaching out through the dreamstone. Vari.

A moment, then I made contact. Variam’s thoughts were frantic, intense; he was fighting. I’m here! Anne gated us out and she’s pissed.

Where are you?

No time. Get Landis. Tell him—

Shock and pain flared in Variam’s mind, making me stagger. An instant later the link snapped.

Vari! I cast about for Variam’s mind, trying to establish the connection. Vari!

Nothing.

I opened my eyes and looked at Luna, troubled. “What’s happening?” Luna demanded. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” I said quietly.

Karyos crossed the open grass to join us. The three of us stood alone.