Forged

chapter 3

I woke early the next morning. The Hollow was peaceful and quiet, birds singing in the early light, the sky a mix of pinks and yellows. I dressed and ate breakfast, then sat down at my desk with a pen and a sheet of blank paper. The window above the desk had a view out onto the grassy clearing beyond my front door. I picked up the pen and wrote three words.

– Anne

– Richard

– Council

With my free hand I tapped my thumbnail against my lips. I needed to deal with all three. How, and in what order?

In a perfect world, I’d be able to resolve all three conflicts peacefully. That was not going to happen. My best hope for negotiations had been the Council, and yesterday’s talks had put an end to that. Talks with Anne would be faster and probably less unpleasant, but our long-term goals were not the same, and she knew that as well as I did. That just left Richard, and I strongly suspected I’d burnt my bridges with him already.

So the how was simple. I had to neutralise all three as potential threats. That just left the question of order. I kept writing, ink scratching across the white paper.

1. Anne —> Richard —> Council

2. Anne —> Council —> Richard

3. Richard —> Anne —> Council

4. Richard —> Council —> Anne

5. Council —> Anne —> Richard

6. Council —> Richard —> Anne

I put down the pen and tapped my lips again. It’s an old habit of mine when I’m thinking. I used to do it with my right hand; nowadays I do it with my left.

Going after Anne seemed like the worst option by a long way. For one thing, out of all three, Anne was the closest to being on my side. I knew she still had some feelings for me, and I was pretty sure she wasn’t going to let me die if she could help it. And she had her own scores to settle. As long as I was fighting against them, I could (mostly) count her as an ally.

Of course, that was only going to last as long as Anne was calling the shots. Sooner or later the jinn was going to take over, at which point Anne was going to stop being an ally. In fact, once that happened, I was expecting the jinn to make me priority target number one. Which brought up a second reason not to go after Anne: the only way I could really “win” was to split her away from the jinn, and right now I had no idea how. Sooner or later (and probably sooner) I was going to need an answer.

That left Richard and the Council. Which one first?

If it was a question of who was the bigger threat, my answer would be Richard every time. He was smarter than the Council, and much more dangerous. On the other hand, more dangerous didn’t necessarily mean more dangerous to me. Richard had directly or indirectly saved my life several times over, and if he really wanted me dead, he could have done it a long time ago. My actions in Sal Sarque’s fortress might have changed that, but as things were, the Council hated me far more than Richard did, and with a lot less chance of me being able to change their minds.

There was also the same issue as with Anne. Richard had his own jinn, and if it wasn’t as powerful as Anne’s, his other skills and allies more than made up for it. I didn’t have a good game plan for how to face Richard. I didn’t have a good game plan for how to face the Council either, but it felt more possible.

Besides, Richard’s cabal and the Council were still at war. Allying with Richard was off the table for a variety of reasons . . . but then, Richard’s cabal had more members than just him, didn’t it?

You know, I think that could work. I lifted my pen and crossed out options one through four. When I got to five I hesitated, my pen hovering between five and six.

Seconds ticked by and I put down the pen. I needed to know more.

I hadn’t been idle over the past two weeks, and I’d gathered a fair bit of information about the Council and about Richard’s cabal. But I hadn’t managed to learn anything more about jinn. I’d spoken to various contacts, questioned Karyos, and even asked Luna to dig up what she could, and none of them had been able to tell me anything useful.

But there was one creature that would have the answers I needed.

I got up and went to prepare myself. Usually I’m not one for ritual, but for this I needed every advantage I could get. The Hollow has a small pool around the other side from where I sleep; I stripped naked and washed myself, cleaning each body part carefully and thoroughly. Once I was done, I dressed in a set of clean clothes, shivering slightly, then finished towelling my hair until it was completely dry.

I fetched my gear from the cottage. There wasn’t much: my dreamstone, a plain white cloth, and, most importantly, a chair. Then I walked through the woods until I found a small clearing that looked at first glance like any other. There was a tree stump to one side and I spread the cloth out over it, then I placed the chair about three feet from the stump, adjusting it until its legs were stable on the grass. Some mages like to kneel or sit cross-legged for this kind of work, but I find that makes my knees stiffen up. I sat down on the chair, hands in my lap, closed my eyes, and focused. I breathed in and out, slowly and regularly, holding myself quite still. Slowly and methodically I identified the fears and worries rattling around inside my head, and one by one, I put them gently but firmly away. My mind had to be clear and focused, and any stray thoughts could become a vulnerability to be used against me. When I finally opened my eyes, the shadows in the clearing had shrunk and the sun was visible above the treetops.

I rose and walked to a tree at the edge of the clearing, then touched a knot on its trunk and channelled a thread of magic. The illusion covering the middle of the trunk vanished, revealing that the tree was hollow. Inside were several wrapped packages.

When my shop was destroyed, I’d taken the most powerful and dangerous of my stock of items and hidden them away. I reached in and took out one of the smaller packages, a little less than a foot in length, then walked back and laid the item down on the tree stump. Carefully, I untied the wrappings and pushed away the cloth.

The item inside was a cylinder of lacquered wood, about ten inches long and two inches wide, with a braided cord hanging from one end. The wood was coloured white, with engravings of twining blue flowers. I sat back down on the chair, let out a long slow breath, braced myself, then reached out mentally through the dreamstone. Marid, I said quietly but clearly. If you are willing, I would speak with you.

There was what felt like a very long silence. Then the jinn answered.

It didn’t sound like a creature. It was more like a choir, with one dominant voice and a chorus of lesser ones. As the dominant voice spoke, the others would speak in echo, sometimes repeating its words with subtle differences of emphasis, sometimes contradicting it entirely. I was keeping the mental contact thread-thin, but even so the pressure from the other side was vast. It felt like putting one hand through the bars of a cage to rest my fingers against the body of some enormously strong animal.

WHY HAVE YOU COME. The jinn’s voice rolled over my senses, even as the chorus echoed it. (come where? you have always been here.)

I braced myself against the mental pressure. The really frightening thing was that it didn’t even feel as though the jinn was attacking; all it was doing was paying me attention. I’ve been told a lot about jinn over the past few years, I said through the dreamstone. I thought it might be a good idea to see how much of it is true.

YES. (yes? you ask, you do not understand.)

I was told there was a war long ago, between jinn and mages. I was told that’s why you are how you are now.

YES. (no. not always. not now.)

Do you want to tell me your side of the story?

THERE ARE NO SIDES. THERE IS ONLY THE DARK. (the beginning and the end. to see is not to understand.)

I paused. I was told that it was mages that bound you into items. Stripping away your physical form and binding you into items. Did they?

OUTSIDE. (outside.)

I don’t understand.

YOU SEE THE SURFACE. IN THEIR BINDING, THEY TOUCHED SOMETHING ELSE. (made us less. made us more.) BETWEEN BODY AND SEAL, WE WERE OUTSIDE. A BLINK OF AN EYE AND A THOUSAND YEARS. (less than a blink. more than a thousand years. a thousand years were a blink.)

That . . . happened to you?

THE LESSER WERE EXTINGUISHED. (husks. shells. burning shells.) THE GREATER WERE CHANGED. ONLY THE ETERNAL CAN ENDURE THE DARK. (the dark. the dark.)

Okay, I said slowly. The jinn that’s possessing Anne. What does it want?

WAR. (eternal patience. eternal war.)

A chill went through me. Is there any way I can change its mind?

AN AVALANCHE BEGINS A THOUSAND YEARS AGO. (blades of grass beneath the stone. ask the rock why it falls.)

How about breaking its contract with Anne? Is there some way I can do that?

YES. (no.)

How?

DO NOT PRESUME. TO WISH IS NOT TO GUIDE. (impudent. to guide is not to wish. you have learned nothing.)

Okay, I said. What do you want in all this? Are you on that other jinn’s side? Are you hoping it’ll succeed, or fail? Do you want humans wiped out for what they did to you? What?

THERE IS NO REVENGE. There was no anger in the jinn’s voice; it was dispassionate, implacable. THERE IS ONLY THE CONTRACT, AND THE PRICE. (the price. your price.)

The strain of talking to the jinn was wearing on me. It felt like holding back some massive uncaring force, and I could feel my will beginning to shake. One last question, I said. You stayed in my shop for years. I’m pretty sure you didn’t have to. You took victims when they made contracts. But the rest of the time, you left everyone in peace. Why?

YOU ARE THE HOST. ONE LIFE IS A LEAF. LAW IS ETERNAL. (you have seen. follow the path.)

I struggled to understand. It was getting harder to think. What do you mean—?

ENOUGH.

All of a sudden, the jinn’s presence was gone. I lurched on my chair, blinking, as though a weight I’d been bracing against had been suddenly pulled away. The sunlight hurt my eyes and I put up my hand to shield them.

I rose to my feet, staggering slightly. The Hollow felt too bright and too loud. Carefully I rewrapped the cylinder and carried it back to the tree. I made sure not to touch it with my bare skin, but the item was passive and silent as I returned it to its storage. Once I was done, I slumped back down on the chair. That had taken a lot out of me.

Was that even worth it? It was hideously dangerous to link to a creature that powerful. My mind could have been destroyed, and I’d learned nothing.

Or had I? I still didn’t understand what the jinn were, but now I had some idea of what I didn’t know. Something had happened to them, something that those ancient mages had done with their binding, maybe deliberately but more likely as some unintended side effect they didn’t fully understand. I didn’t know how to make use of that, but it was somewhere to start.

I got to my feet, gathered up my stuff, and started walking. It was time to get to work on the problem I knew something about.

—

Shadow realms that have been warded against intruders are difficult to enter, which was one reason I’d been able to stay in the Hollow for so long. When we set up the Hollow’s defences, we created a set of keystones, and in theory only someone holding one could open a gate to get inside. But if you’re powerful enough, there are ways around these things.

Earlier this year, I’d gained two abilities that significantly expanded my options. First, I’d learned how to use the dreamstone to step physically into Elsewhere. It’s a hostile environment to put it mildly, but it has major advantages, one of those being that it allows you to travel almost anywhere. The second ability was the magic of the fateweaver. It let me manipulate the futures I could see with my divination, choosing the outcome I desired and eliminating all others.

Put the two together, and I had a way to get into a shadow realm. The dreamstone let me open a gate; the fateweaver let me make sure it would work. It wasn’t easy—first I had to stack the odds in my favour by travelling to the real-world location that the shadow realm was a mirror of, then I had to spend a couple of hours patiently following future threads, using the fateweaver to stabilise them so that I could learn what would and wouldn’t work. But eventually I saw the futures light up in a sequence of events that would end with me entering the shadow realm. What the Council would have done with a full assault team and a weeklong siege, I could do in an afternoon.

I stepped through into the shadow realm and let the gate wink out behind me, feeling the slight disorientation that always hit me upon leaving Elsewhere. Looking around, I saw green trees, dappled shadows, and beams of light slanting down from a canopy far overhead. From nearby, I could hear a stream and what sounded like a waterfall. There was a path a little to one side, grey flagstones laid through the grass. I started walking, though I didn’t hurry. My arrival had set off several alarms, and I knew that the shadow realm’s inhabitants were converging on me.

The path wound through the trees and led up to a clearing with a long, wide house on the other side of a grassy lawn. The house was made of yellow-brown stone, irregularly shaped, with grey tiles making up half a dozen gables and small roofs. The path crossed the lawn, bent around what looked like a goldfish pond, and went up a couple of steps to the front door. It all looked very pretty. I leant against a tree and waited.

A group of four people came running from around the back of the house. They changed direction to head straight towards me, spreading out as they covered the distance. There were two girls and two boys; all looked to be around twenty, give or take a few years. “Stay there!” one of the boys called out at me.

I didn’t move. The group of four slowed to a walk, then stopped about thirty feet away. All were dressed in casual clothes; they looked alert and hostile.

“Who are you?” the first boy said. He was tall and fit, with short black hair and watchful eyes, and his hand was by his hip in a stance that signalled he was ready to draw a weapon.

“My name’s Alex Verus,” I said. “I’d appreciate it if you could let your master know I’m here.”

At the sound of my name, the boy’s eyes narrowed. The taller of the two girls stiffened. “What are you doing here?”

“As I said, I’m here to see your master. Don’t do anything stupid, please.”

The four of them tried to keep their eyes on me and glance at one another at the same time.

I knew what they were thinking without even having to look. “I said don’t do anything stupid.”

“We know who you are,” the taller girl said. She had dark brown hair in a severe-looking ponytail, and a face that would have been pretty if her expression hadn’t been so hostile. “You were the one who sold out Morden.”

“Did Morden tell you that?”

The girl hesitated.

I nodded. “Ask him next time you get the chance.”

“You want to go after him,” the boy said, “you’ll have to deal with us.”

I gave the boy a flat look; he shifted but held his ground. “Your show of loyalty is noted but unnecessary. I am here to talk.”

“Yeah, right,” the girl said.

I paused, letting my gaze touch all four of them, and when I spoke, my voice was cold and clear. “Do not mistake my courtesy for weakness. I arrived without an invitation, and in recognition of that fact I am treating you with patience. There are limits to that patience. I would rather not do your master the discourtesy of harming or killing his followers within his own shadow realm, but that is exactly what I will do if you follow through with your idiotic plan of attack.”

The four adepts—I’d had time to figure out what they were—held quite still. For a moment futures of combat flickered, then one by one they died out. None of the adepts were sure what to do instead, and I didn’t break the silence. We stared at each other across the grassy lawn.

Then a voice spoke from the direction of the house. “I appreciate your restraint.” The tone changed, becoming a command. “Stand down, all of you.”

The man in the open doorway had black hair and wore a black suit and shirt. He stood in a relaxed posture, with his hands clasped easily behind his back, and looked quite unworried. “Hello, Verus,” he said, his voice carrying across the lawn.

“Morden,” I replied. “If it’s convenient, I have some matters I’d like to discuss.”

“Would you like to come inside?”

“Actually, I’d prefer to walk in these woods.”

“Of course.” Morden stepped down off the porch and started along the path. “Go back to your practice, you four. I’ll be along shortly.”

—

Morden and I walked side by side. The rush of water echoed from around us, the sound muffled and redirected by the trees so that it was hard to tell in which direction it was coming from.

“Beautiful shadow realm,” I said.

“It is, isn’t it?” Morden agreed. “It took some effort to secure, but it was well worth it. I always thought those mages who spend their lives barricaded in fortresses and prison realms were displaying the worst kind of foolishness. What’s the point of power if you have to live in a home you hate the sight of?”

“Did it have a name?”

“The Waterwood. You didn’t know?”

“Even diviners don’t know everything,” I said. “Oh, and you’ve got a flaw in the gate wards near those oak trees just off the path I entered by. It’s at the centre of three overlapping nodes, and two of them are slightly out of phase. Creates a three-foot section where they cancel each other out rather than reinforcing.”

“I see,” Morden said.

We walked a little way in silence, the path winding around a grove of silver birches. I waited for Morden to ask why I was here, but apparently he was content to wait.

“Do you remember the conversation we had all those years ago in your mansion?” I asked.

“Of course.”

“You spoke to me about rogues,” I said. “About mages who turned their back on the tradition in which they were trained. And how they often came back.” I looked sideways at Morden. “Did you know something like this would happen?”

“You’re the diviner, Verus.”

“That’s not really an answer.”

Morden shrugged slightly. “In politics, there are always unpredictable elements. It was possible for you to have won yourself a place with the Council. If you’d gained a powerful enough patron, if you’d avoided making the wrong enemies, if events had made you sufficiently indispensable. But it struck me as unlikely. Remember that by the time we met I’d been dealing with the Council for many years. I’d seen enough mages rise and fall within their ranks to have a good idea of how well you would fit within their institutions.”

“I remember you told me that the Council would never accept me,” I said. “With hindsight, I would have saved myself a lot of trouble if I’d just taken your word for it.”

Morden shook his head. “If you’d followed my advice without understanding why, you’d have learned nothing.”

I nodded. “What do you want?”

Morden smiled slightly but didn’t answer.

“You asked me that question quite a few times, back then,” I said.

“As I recall, you spent most of the conversation evading giving me an answer.”

“Yes, and so did you,” I said. “Because I threw that question right back at you, and you told me you wanted the fateweaver.” I stopped and held up my right hand, letting my sleeve fall back to reveal smooth white not-quite-flesh. “Well, here it is. Are you going to take it?”

Morden turned to face me, his hands still clasped behind his back. “What do you think?”

“I don’t think you care about it at all,” I said. “It was just a playing piece to you. Which means you weren’t telling the truth any more than I was.”

We looked at each other for a moment, then Morden nodded to himself, turned, and carried on walking. I fell into step beside him. “I find the question a useful one when discussing the Path,” Morden said. “The less sophisticated assume the purpose of such discussions is to probe an enemy’s weaknesses. The real value of the question is that it forces one to examine oneself.”

“Yes,” I said. “I’ve been learning that.”

“I told you back then that a true Dark mage has purpose,” Morden said. “You had will, but you lacked a clear perception of yourself and your goals. That is no longer the case. You have an objective which you are determined to accomplish. You are also significantly more powerful. This is not a coincidence.”

“None of which answers my original question.”

“No.”

“The Council never really understood you, you know,” I said. “I sat in on God only knows how many strategy meetings where they were trying to predict what Richard’s cabal would do. They had Richard pegged as the would-be Dark Lord type. The Council have dealt with enough of them over the years that they’re pretty used to them by now. Dark mages who think the logical conclusion of their philosophy is for them to rule as many people as they can. Vihaela was even easier. She’s what you might call the smaller-scale version. Power over one person at a time.” I looked at Morden. “You, though? They could never find an explanation for your behaviour they were happy with. The best one they could come up with was the public face. Richard as the mastermind, you as his political representative. Their idea was that Richard had some kind of leverage over you that made it impossible for you to betray him.”

“They certainly spent more than enough time trying to discover what that leverage might be.”

“And got absolutely nowhere,” I said. I’d had to sit through innumerable frustrating interviews with Keepers convinced that I had the key to prying out Morden’s secrets. “Personally? I think they never found anything because there wasn’t anything to find. You were helping Richard voluntarily. But that didn’t answer the question as to why. All the time you were under Council arrest, you were taking an enormous risk. You could have been disappeared or ‘killed trying to escape’ at any time.”

“The risk was a little smaller than you think,” Morden said. “The Council can be ruthless when threatened, but so long as they feel that they are in control, their inclination is towards caution. Live prisoners can be made dead if need be; the reverse is not the case.”

“But in politics, there are always unpredictable elements.”

Morden smiled slightly. “What would be your explanation?”

“I think you were never driven by self-interest at all,” I said. “That was why the Council could never figure you out, and it was why you were able to work with Richard so easily. Richard wants to be in charge, and everything he’s done has been with a view to increasing his power. But you’ve been quite willing to give your own power up.”

“Have I?”

“Several times,” I said. “Take that raid you organised on the Vault. The other mages who went on the raid benefited from the items they took. Richard benefited because of his plans for Anne. But you lost your position on the Junior Council, and instead of fleeing afterwards, you let them take you into custody. And you didn’t take any steps to make sure Anne would be under your personal control. You let Richard and Vihaela handle all of it.”

“So what do you believe my motivations to be?”

“If you and Richard had both wanted to be the one in charge, one of you would have betrayed the other by now,” I said. “So as much as you like to talk about the Dark way, I don’t think accumulating personal power is your priority at all. Strange as it sounds, I think you’re actually an idealist. You want the Dark philosophy and mind-set to be spread and understood. What I don’t understand is why you launched that raid. You had what you wanted, you were on the Junior Council. Why sabotage it?”

“From the moment I joined the Council, efforts were made to remove me,” Morden said. “You were caught up in several of those plots yourself, and once you took over my seat you became the target of them in turn. What I suspect you may not have recognised is that removing me—or you—was never the primary objective. In the long term, the Council was not concerned with who sat in that seat; they were concerned with controlling its resident. If they had succeeded, the mages occupying it would have followed Light norms and constrained themselves according to Council beliefs. Within a generation they would have been Dark in name only, and treated with contempt by their former allies. That was the real danger.”

“And so you blew everything up?”

“The Council’s support of that goal was too strong to overcome by purely political means. It still is, to a lesser degree. That may change.”

I thought about that for a minute. Morden’s explanation wasn’t what I’d been expecting, but I didn’t have any reason to disbelieve it. I’d had the feeling for a while that Morden had been playing a completely different game to everyone else.

“But these are long-term concerns,” Morden said. “Yours are more immediate, I suspect. Why are you here, Verus?”

“I need to win a war with the Council,” I said. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to help.”

“Do you have something in mind?”

I gained a certain amount of respect for Morden in that instant that I was never to lose. It was the sheer lack of worry in his voice. I explained what I had in mind in two sentences.

Morden didn’t seem surprised. “And how do you plan to accomplish that?”

“Well, that’s the problem. I don’t think a frontal attack is a good idea.”

“Given the Council’s current state of readiness, I would agree.”

“Which is why I’m here,” I said. “I was hoping in your dealings with the Council you might have come across something I could use as a stepping-stone.”

“It should be possible,” Morden said. “I’ll need a day or two to look into things, but I have a target in mind that should suit your needs.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Will there be any issues of allegiance?”

“You mean as regards Drakh?”

“I’m fairly sure that I’m not Richard’s favourite person at the moment.”

“Drakh and I may be allies, but I am not accountable to him for my every action,” Morden said. “If he confronts me on the issue, I will tell him that I believe that your success would be in my, and his, best interests, which is entirely true. Should he choose to press the matter, however, I will not stand in his way. I suspect it will not be long before you have to resolve your issues with Drakh directly.”

“Oh, I’ve been expecting that for a while,” I said. We’d come most of the way around in a circle and were approaching the house once again. “Your new apprentices didn’t back off all that far, by the way.”

“They can be somewhat reckless,” Morden said with a glance back at where the four of them were hidden. “Still, an excess of spirit is better than an excess of caution.”

“I didn’t know that adepts were your type.”

“Perhaps I’ve learned from you,” Morden said with a slight smile. “In any case, if there’s nothing else, I have other business. I’ll be in touch.”

—

The image of those four adepts nagged at me on my way home, and midway through the journey I realised why. Two girls, two boys, living in the mansion of a Dark mage. They’d been a couple of years older than I was when I’d joined Richard, but the parallels were uncomfortably close. I wondered if they’d end up on the same path as Morden’s last Chosen.

There was another realisation too, something that was harder to explain. I had the feeling that Morden was going to survive all this. He wasn’t aiming to settle grudges and wasn’t seeking the crown, and because of that everyone else would always have someone they wanted dead more badly than him. When this was over he was going to be walking away, back to the forests and streams of his shadow realm and to his new group of disciples. The same wasn’t likely to be true for me.