By the time I’d reached floor level, the shadows had brought Anne to the far side of the duelling ring. They released her but held their position around her, white eyes staring. I didn’t look around, but as I walked towards her I scanned the area. There were three doors, though only the one through which Anne had been brought was still open, and eight shadows with more above. I briefly calculated the odds of us successfully making a break for it under the noses of Sagash, Crystal, Darren, and Sam, and decided they were close enough to zero to make no difference.
Anne looked worse up close. The blood crusting her wrists was covering two ugly-looking wounds between hand and forearm which looked like they’d pierced through and through. Her skin was paler than it should be, and she’d picked up some new bruises on her face and legs. But her eyes were steady, and she was looking at me with some expression I couldn’t place.
“Are you okay?” I said quietly once I was within earshot.
“Why did you come back?” Anne said.
“Nice to see you too. You got the gist?”
“I’ve done this before.”
“Good. Okay, not good, but—”
“I’m supposed to kill Crystal,” Anne said, her voice flat.
“That’d be the better out of the two alternatives, yeah. You up to it?”
Anne looked at me without speaking for a second. “Why did you come back?”
“Where else was I going to go? You’re welcome, by the way.”
“You’re welcome?”
“Okay, maybe I’m missing something here, but I was under the impression Crystal was—”
“About to kill me.”
“Okay . . . then how exactly is this any worse? Work with me here. We don’t have much time!”
“Time . . .” Anne passed a hand over her face. “You don’t understand what you’ve done.”
“Then tell me!”
Anne closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again. “I told you back at the windmill,” she said. “This was what I was afraid of. Not Crystal. This.”
“You’ve got a chance here,” I said. “Okay, it’s not a great chance, but it’s something. If you can beat Crystal, then Sagash might let you go.”
Anne gave a sort of half laugh, despairing. “He’s never going to let me go.”
“How are you so sure?”
“Because he’s Sagash.” Anne shook her head. “You don’t understand. With Crystal it would have been quick. Now . . . You haven’t made it better. Just slower.”
I stared at Anne, reevaluating. I didn’t like the idea, but I had to admit it was possible. “Okay,” I said. “So, new plan. Don’t kill Crystal. Just take her down, hurt her a little but leave her able to get up again and—”
“Alex,” Anne said, and all of a sudden she looked very tired. “Just stop.”
“And do what? Give up?”
Anne looked past me towards the floor, and when she raised her eyes again there was something distant and alien in them. “Do you know how many people I killed in this circle?”
“No, and right now I don’t care.”
“I do.”
“We do not exactly have very much choice here!”
“There’s always a choice,” Anne said quietly.
“To do what? Stand there and get killed?” Anne didn’t answer and my heart sank. “No! Anne, I’m out of tricks here. I haven’t got anything more up my sleeve. I’m counting on you.”
“To do what?” Anne’s voice was weary. “Be her again?”
“If that’s what it takes to stay alive? Yes.”
“I’m tired of making that choice.”
“The other is worse!”
“Is it?” Anne asked. “Isn’t that how you become a Dark mage in the first place? They don’t come from nowhere. Darren and Sam didn’t. All you have to do is choose yourself over everyone else. You tell yourself it’s just one thing . . . and then after that there’s another and another. Until you’re not sure how much of you is . . .” Anne shook her head. “I’m tired. Of all the death, and justifying it to myself. Getting more like them. If I die here . . . it stops.” She was silent for a moment. “Maybe I deserve this.”
I stared at Anne, frustration mixing with fury. I’d never felt more distant from her than I did now. Guilt I could understand. But just giving up, letting someone destroy you . . . I wasn’t getting through and we were running out of time. I looked around to see that Sagash was out of sight, up on the balcony above, his shadows still watching. Crystal had descended and was standing at the other end of the duelling ring; Darren and Sam watched cautiously from a distance.
This isn’t working. Anne wasn’t listening to me. I needed to get through to that other Anne, the one I’d seen in Elsewhere. Hadn’t she said that she came out in times like this? Why wasn’t Anne acting like that now?
Because that side is weaker. She’d admitted it, or as good as. Anne could keep her bottled up. And if she decided not to fight, then that other side would die with her. Maybe I could persuade her—
No. I was doing this the wrong way. That other Anne wasn’t a creature of reason; she was instinct and emotion. I needed something more primal. “Is that how you think this is going to be?” I said. “You die here as some sort of martyr?”
“It’s not like—”
“Yes, it is. You think you’re going out as a hero. You know what you’re going to be remembered as? A coward. Crystal’ll take her time finishing you off while Darren and Sam and the rest laugh at you. You’re a joke to them. The little girl who everyone can push around.”
“Why are you being like this? I thought you’d understand!”
“Understand what? That you’re trying to commit a really twisted version of suicide-by-cop? That doesn’t make you a good person, it makes you mentally ill. Oh, and by the way, what makes you think they’re going to kill you? Crystal still needs a research subject, remember? If she beats you she can probably beg a favour from Sagash to keep you around. Of course, they wouldn’t need all of you. An experiment doesn’t need arms or legs. I saw someone like that in a Dark mage’s lab once. The mage kept him around as a curiosity. At least, I think it was a him. After you cut enough bits off it gets kind of hard to tell. No eyes, either, or tongue. Could still scream, though. They could probably keep you alive for a good fifty or sixty years. Does that sound like fun? Nice way to spend your time?”
Anne was staring at me. There was disbelief there, and horror—and a seed of anger, too. Good. “But sure,” I said. “If you think that’s worth doing, then go for it. Not that it’ll just be you. Once you’re gone, you think Crystal and Sagash are going to have much motivation to keep me around? Oh, and let’s not forget Variam! If you don’t get back to London, you think he’ll just sit around and wait? He’ll find a way to come after us, and Luna as well. And the same thing’ll happen to them. I’ll be dead, your friends will be dead, and you’ll be in a screaming tortured existence for the rest of your life, all because you decided not to fight back—but hey, you’ll have the moral satisfaction of not having killed anyone. Anyone else, that is. I’m sure that’ll make it all worthwhile.”
Anne’s face had gone white. “Well,” I said. “I guess if I’m not going to be seeing Vari and Luna again, then at least I won’t have to explain to them that this was your fault.” I turned away and paused. “Or then again, maybe Sagash’ll keep them around as well. Do the same thing to them that he did to you.”
I walked away. I didn’t look back at the expression on Anne’s face—I knew what I’d see if I did. I climbed the stairs back up to the upper level, tension and anger mixing with self-loathing.
Most of what I’d just said to Anne had probably been a lie. The last time Anne had been the target of a ritual like this, they hadn’t been aiming to torture her, just to kill her, and I had no idea of what was going to happen to me afterwards or what Luna and Vari might be doing. But I’d known that Anne hadn’t been in any kind of state to sit down and think that out rationally. She was despairing and vulnerable and I’d hit her where she was weakest, breaking her resolve so that she would do what I wanted.
I really am Richard’s apprentice.
A feminine voice spoke inside my head. Don’t flatter yourself.
I started slightly, looking around. Sagash was still at the far end of the balcony, apparently indifferent. Darren and Sam were down at ground level. Anne hadn’t moved . . . and neither had Crystal. She was looking away from me, arms folded. But it was her voice I’d heard.
You know, I said silently, it’s not polite to listen in on private conversations.
Did you think diviners were the only ones who could eavesdrop? Crystal replied. The whole sentence was delivered in an instant, faster than speech but without any loss of meaning. Strangely enough, Crystal’s voice actually sounded more distinctive this way; it was cool and precise, matching her perfectly. And once again, don’t flatter yourself. I’ve met your master. He wouldn’t have let himself fall into so vulnerable a position.
I could say the same for you, I said. How long have you been working on this plan, by the way? I’d love to know just how many months of your work I managed to screw up.
More than you know. Crystal’s voice was cold. Normally I don’t allow myself the luxury of revenge. But let me give you one piece of advice. Don’t be here when I step out of the circle.
Confident, aren’t you? If you couldn’t beat me, what makes you think you have a chance against Anne?
If I’d really wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be here. A mistake I won’t repeat. Last chance, Verus.
I’ll make you a counteroffer, I replied. You, me, and Anne all team up and get out of here. You have to know by now that Sagash isn’t going to let you keep Anne alive.
Really, Crystal said. You expect me to betray Sagash to help the two of you escape?
The three of us, not the two of us, and yes.
Do explain why.
Because you’ve got a better chance against Sagash than you do in that duelling ring against Anne.
That would have been more convincing if you hadn’t just been trying and failing to persuade her to fight at all.
“Time.” Sagash’s rasping voice cut across the room, and I nearly flinched. “Prepare yourselves.”
At the far end, the shadows closed in on Anne, forcing her towards the circle. Darren made one halfhearted step towards Crystal as if to do the same. She gave him a single level look which stopped him dead, then walked to the circle’s edge.
Well? I asked, scanning ahead to see what would happen if I stood where I was. What do you say?
Verus, if you actually believed she could beat me, you wouldn’t be bargaining now. All you have are empty threats.
Sagash was about to say something about terms. After that, the future forked and became blurry, but I could just make out a shifting blur of combat. It looked as though . . . huh. I looked away after only an instant, hiding what I’d just seen behind other thoughts so Crystal couldn’t catch it.
“Stand ready,” Sagash rasped.
Crystal stepped over the edge of the ring, her eyes on her opponent. A moment later, Anne did the same. Her head was tilted down, her hair hiding her eyes so that I couldn’t see her expression, and she was holding very still. I wished for Crystal’s telepathy so that I could know what Anne was thinking. But since I couldn’t . . . Do you know what your problem is, Crystal?
You’re going to lecture me on my problems? Really?
Lack of empathy, I thought. You can read people’s thoughts, but you don’t recognise them as belonging to real people. You don’t pay attention to their motivations or what they care about; you just use brute force to make them do what you want.
So you’re capable of seeing the obvious, Crystal replied. Congratulations. You’re correct; I don’t care what you want, or what she wants, or Sagash, or his apprentices. You, all of you . . . you irritate me. You have no idea how tedious it is to hear your thoughts go round and round obsessing about your petty little problems. All I wanted was to complete the ritual and never have to see any of you again. Instead you’ve managed to make it all pointless. If you’d just waited a few more hours, I would have been able to put this girl to use. Now I’m going to have to kill her to no benefit at all. And then I’m going to leave, and then I’m going to start all over again to find another suitable specimen, going through as many adepts and apprentices as it takes. You’re so concerned about the lives of apprentices? Far more are going to lose their lives as a result of what you’ve done today, all because you had to interfere. You can think on that as you watch her die. Crystal’s voice cut off abruptly.
So much for negotiations.
“The duel is to the death,” Sagash rasped. He’d taken a step forward and was standing on the edge of the balcony, looking down like some necromantic version of a Roman emperor at the games. “The victor will retain her life, and my favour. Do you understand these conditions?”
“Yes,” Crystal replied. She hadn’t taken her eyes off Anne.
Anne stayed silent and still.
“The duel will begin on three,” Sagash rasped. “Are you prepared?”
Crystal gave a short nod. Anne didn’t.
“One,” Sagash rasped.
The room was silent. Below, at floor level, Sam and Darren watched from behind Crystal. Sam looked nervous, his pale face tense. Darren was watching avidly. Death mages have a reputation for loving combat, the deadlier the better. Scattered around were the shadows, their white eyes a silent audience.
“Two.”
Silence. Both Crystal and Anne were still; they’d each chosen what they were about to do. From somewhere deeper in Sagash’s laboratory I could hear a faint ticking sound, echoing into the arena. There was nothing more I could do. I’d played all my cards; now I’d see whether it had been for better or for worse. I held my breath.
Sagash opened his mouth to say three, and Crystal struck.
I’ve seen a lot of duels, but most have been the nonlethal kind favoured by the Light Council. A Light azimuth duel usually takes the best part of five minutes, counting breaks. Death duels are much faster.
I’d been expecting Crystal to try and dominate Anne, but the spell she hit her with was a blast of pure mental force. I felt the backwash from all the way up on the balcony, and it was stronger than the attack she’d used at the windmill—a lot stronger. My mental defences are better than most, but all of a sudden I wasn’t so sure that rematch would have been a good idea. If I’d been the one to step into that circle, I might not have come out again.
But I wasn’t the one in that circle, Anne was. And Anne . . .
It’s strange, the ways you see people. I’d known that life mages can act as assassins, but I’d never thought of Anne that way. It wasn’t how she’d first come across, and first impressions are hard to shift—no matter how many times people had told me Anne was dangerous, she hadn’t felt dangerous, at least not to me. Even when she’d flat-out told me what she’d done, I’d never really been able to connect the words with the image I had of her. Shy, gentle, slightly awkward; a healer, not a fighter.
Anne came off her starting position like a sprinter, heading straight for Crystal. She didn’t move like a duellist but like a runner, eyes locked on her target. Crystal’s spell hit before Anne had taken her second step, and Anne stumbled briefly but kept going. It wasn’t that the attack was weak; it was that she didn’t care. The only thing she was paying attention to was closing the distance.
Crystal took a step back, eyes going wide in alarm. Her hand came up and I felt the surge of another spell, then Anne was slamming into Crystal, rocking them back. There was a blur of movement, magic and green light, and all of a sudden Crystal was falling. She hit the floor with Anne above her, Anne’s hand coming down to rest on Crystal’s body, over her heart.
Crystal looked up, obviously dazed. Her eyes focused on Anne and she froze. Anne was crouched over Crystal, her right hand resting with fingers spread over Crystal’s chest, between her breasts and a little to the left. Green light glowed at Anne’s fingers; it was a soft colour, the shade of new leaves in spring, but I knew what the spell did and from the expression in Crystal’s eyes she did too.
Time stretched out. After the brief flurry of activity the chamber was silent again. Anne was motionless, the spell hanging ready at her hand. The only movement I could see was the rapid rise and fall of Crystal’s chest, and she was holding very still. I looked into the futures and saw them fork. In one, Anne stood up and let the spell drop. In the other . . .
Then that second future winked out. Anne stood up, letting the spell vanish from her fingers. She looked up at Sagash. “No,” she said, her voice carrying clearly in the silence. Her posture and stance had changed; she was the Anne I knew again. “I’m not going to be like you.”
I held my breath.
Sagash looked down at her from his perch on the balcony. The two of them locked eyes. “Disappointing,” Sagash said at last, his rasping voice echoing.
Anne didn’t reply and again the silence stretched out. “Well,” I said brightly. “Good match, glad I was here to see it. The two of us really should leave and let you get back to work.” Anne, please don’t say anything to piss him off, please don’t say anything to piss him off . . .
Anne stayed quiet. Sagash regarded her for a moment, then spoke in his rasping voice. “I think not.”
Oh shit.
“You said that the winner would have your favour . . .” I started to say. Even before the words were out of my mouth I knew it wasn’t going to help.
“And their life,” Sagash rasped. “The conditions for victory, however, were the death of the other party.” He looked down at Anne and Crystal. “It appears we have two losers, not one.”
There was a rustle of movement from around the chamber, barely audible, as the shadows shifted their position. “You wanted to see how Anne’s skills had developed,” I said. “You’ve got your data, right?” Scan the futures . . . no, there was no way talking was going to work, not now. I aimed my thoughts at Crystal. Hey, Crystal! Wake up!
“Indeed.”
“There’s nothing stopping you from letting Anne go. It’s not as if she came here because she wanted to.” Hey! I’m talking to you, you psychotic bitch. I know you can hear me, you eavesdrop on everyone else—
Crystal’s voice spoke into my head. She sounded shaken, but lucid. I heard you the first time.
“Do not play games with me,” Sagash rasped. “You are obviously well aware of what Anne did the last time she visited my realm. Until now, I did not consider her a high enough priority to be worth pursuing. If she simply presents herself, however . . . No. I believe Anne will be remaining.”
Last chance, I thought towards Crystal. Do you want to get out or not? “As a matter of fact, I don’t know the details,” I said. “What did Anne do to offend you so badly?”
If you’re making the same offer— Crystal began.
Yes, and before you ask, I know I was your enemy five minutes ago. You’re cold-blooded enough to switch sides that fast, you know it and I know it, so let’s not waste time. Yes or no?
“Anne remains my legal apprentice,” Sagash rasped. “As her master, I both expect and require—”
Sagash kept talking, but I wasn’t paying attention. I looked at him, pretending to listen, all of my thoughts focused on Crystal. I don’t think you’re in much of a position to promise anything, Crystal replied.
I’m in a better position than you. Sagash is going to kick me out, but you and Anne are about to become permanent residents. You want to get out of here, I want Anne out of here. For the next five minutes we’ve got a common enemy—you wait and it’s going to be just you on your own. Either you make a break for it, or you stay and take your chances with Sagash. Pick!
An instant’s pause. Very well, Crystal said. She’d recovered and her voice was steady again. I presume you have some sort of plan.
Depends what I’ve got to work with. Now, I know you’ve prepared some sort of escape route where you abandon everyone else and keep yourself alive, because that’s what you do. I’m going to guess it involves those two idiot apprentices?
I can control them briefly.
Good. I’ll distract Sagash. Talk to Anne, get her on side.
Silence. I suddenly realised that Sagash had finished speaking—what had he just said? “I can understand why you would have reason to be upset”—blatant lie, but whatever—“but revenge seems a rather unprofitable way to resolve this.”
“Revenge is irrelevant.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Anne start slightly, look down at Crystal, then back up. “Maybe some sort of compensation—”
“No,” Sagash rasped. “She is a liability. I see now that I was in error to have taken her in. A mistake I will now correct.”
“There is one other thing you might want to consider,” I said. Crystal, we’re running out of time, get on with it! “My old master has expressed an . . . interest in Anne.”
“Your master does not rule here.”
“But you could—”
“Enough,” Sagash rasped, his voice final. “I am willing to allow you safe passage, Verus. That can be revoked.”
There appears to be a problem, Crystal said calmly into my head.
Fix it!
Anne refuses to believe me when I tell her this is your idea. Apparently she doesn’t trust me. Crystal’s voice was ironic. I can’t imagine why.
“I see,” I said, and bowed my head slightly to Sagash. “Very well.” I turned away and looked down at Anne. “Anne? Do as she says.”
Anne’s eyes widened slightly. Do it, I thought.
Four of the shadows started to move towards Anne, acting on Sagash’s unspoken orders. An instant later Darren started to walk in the same direction. Sam gave him a puzzled look.
Anne’s head came up sharply; she’d caught something in his body language. Sagash gave Darren a dismissive look. “Stay.”
Crystal’s voice spoke into my head. Three seconds.
I shifted slightly, slipping one hand into a pocket at an angle Sagash couldn’t see. Darren was still heading towards Anne and so were the shadows. Sagash started to say something to Crystal, saw that Darren hadn’t stopped, looked at him in annoyance. “You are not—”
Now, Crystal voiced.
Everything happened at once.
The first two shadows reached Anne, claws extending. As they did, Darren blasted them with two bolts of death magic, one after the other at point-blank range. The spells were constructions of kinetic energy, giant wide-finned darts designed to tear through constructs, and they did just that. The shadows disintegrated, the magical effect which animated them failing. Sagash’s eyes went wide in sudden fury and his hand came up, darkness gathering just as I threw a condenser right at him.
Sagash saw my throw and switched focus instantly. Death mages like Sagash are combat specialists, and virtually every spell they can cast is designed to either protect them or kill someone else. They’re very good at what they do, and I had absolutely no chance against Sagash in any kind of fight. Nothing I had would so much as scratch him.
But Sagash didn’t know that.
Sagash’s first spell was a shield, a translucent bubble of black energy coming up around him. The condenser hit it and shattered, mist flooding out to cover him and a forty-foot sphere of the balcony in fog. Sagash’s second spell was a defensive one too, and so was the third, protective effects wrapping around his body and immunising him from anything that the fog might be carrying. And by the time he’d figured out that the fog wasn’t actually dangerous, I’d vaulted the railing and dropped to the floor below.
The shadows which had been going for Anne were crumpled heaps, dissolving into smoke. Sam was on his knees, clutching at his head, and Crystal’s eyes were locked onto him as she hurried towards the exit. Darren was moving ahead of the two women and covering them, his movements stiff and mechanical. All the other shadows, a dozen or more, stood silent and still; Sagash hadn’t yet given them new orders.
I ran for the exit. Darren reached it first and halted with a jerk. A spell flickered at his hand, wavering between the shadows and Crystal. “Anne,” Crystal said; she didn’t take her eyes away from Sam and her voice was tight with strain. “Get rid of him.”
Anne hesitated, and I felt a surge of death magic from behind. I had just time to dive left before the spell exploded between us.
The few times I’ve been hit with high-level battle magic I’ve never felt it. You usually don’t even know whether you’ve been hurt until afterwards; the amount of destructive power is so far out of human scale that your nervous system doesn’t know how to handle it. Your perception of time distorts, leaving blank spots in your memory. With hindsight, my best guess is that it was an area attack, some sort of blast or vortex.
The next thing I remember is scrambling to my feet. I felt as though I were farther to the left than I should have been, but the doorway in front was open. Anne was up and moving and the two of us ran for the exit; I caught a glimpse of a body to one side and then we were into the corridor and out of Sagash’s line of sight.
It wasn’t until the second corner that I realised someone was behind me. I turned, still dazed, fumbling for the sword at my belt—
—and Crystal gave me an irritated look as she brushed past. Dust and dirt caked her left side and there was a bloody scrape on her cheek, but she didn’t look seriously hurt. Keep moving, she said. We were out in one of the corridors—I hadn’t had a chance to map it but Anne was leading the way.
As we reached a corner a keening, whining sound went through me, so high-pitched it was on the edge of hearing. I could feel a trace of magic in it, but couldn’t tell what it was. “What was that?”
“Shadow call,” Anne said, at the same time that Crystal said, “A command to the constructs.”
“The gate—” Anne began.
“No.” I shook my head and pointed to an arrow-slit window in the corridor. “Look.”
Anne looked as though she’d rather be running, but Crystal moved to my side. The window gave a narrow view out of the south side of the castle towards the main gates and the bridge. For a moment all I could see was the skyline over the buildings, then I saw a dot against the clouds, rising up from the edge of the castle. Then another. Then . . .
That didn’t look like dots. It looked like a cloud. “Anne?” I said, not looking at her. “How many of these shadows does Sagash have exactly?”
Anne let out a breath. “That would be . . . all of them.”
“They’ll surround the keep and form a perimeter,” Crystal said. “I hope you weren’t planning to use the front door.”
“Incoming,” I said. The shadows from the duelling hall were moving. “That way.”
We hurried down a turning and to the right. In the futures spread out ahead of me, I could see the shadows moving through the corridors of the keep, their straight-line paths becoming a blur of combat when they intersected ours. I looked at Anne. “I can get us out through the tunnels if we can make it to the ground floor.”
“The main stairwell is trapped,” Crystal said.
“There’s a back staircase that way,” Anne said.
I glanced through the futures. No shadows, it looked clear . . . wait, someone was there. Huh. I gave a sudden wolfish smile. “That’ll work.”
A side door took us into a narrow stairwell. I got halfway down, paused for two seconds, holding my hand up for Crystal and Anne to wait behind me, then walked down onto the landing and turned. At the bottom of the stairs, just turning in from the main corridor, was Ji-yeong. She was on her feet, battered and limping, one sword sheathed and the other scabbard empty. She was just about to start up the stairs when she saw me.
I looked down at Ji-yeong.
“Oh, no.” Ji-yeong put up both hands and stepped away. “I am not doing this again.” She backed out of the doorway, turned, and ran.
Crystal gave me a look with eyebrows raised. “I see you’ve displayed your usual talent for making friends.”
“What happened with her?” Anne asked.
I started down the stairs. “Not now, all right?”
The shadows kept searching, but there weren’t quite enough yet to cover the whole keep and we made it down to the basement. I yanked the door shut behind us and we were in the tunnels.
“How did you find this place?” Anne asked, looking around.
“I got lucky,” I said, conscious of Crystal’s eyes on me. I looked at her. “Sagash is using the shadows to seal up the keep, right? How long do we have before he figures out we’re not there?”
“Five to ten minutes.”
“He’ll have sent another group to the front gate,” Anne said.
“I assume your way out involves the back door,” I told Crystal.
“Fortunately, yes,” Crystal said. “I suggest we go a little farther from the keep’s wards before gating.”
“You know, Ji-yeong thought you didn’t have any gate stones for the keep.”
“Ji-yeong is an apprentice.”
I led the way through the tunnels, the white flicker of my torch marking our path. Crystal followed and Anne dropped back, keeping Crystal between us. I was sure Crystal didn’t miss the subtext, but she didn’t say anything. Crystal wasn’t the only thing on my mind—I’d told the blink fox to find a place with a view of the exits and wait. Right now, the keep exits would be swarming with shadows. An obedient person would sit and watch. But someone who was used to thinking for themselves would see the shadows, decide that no one was getting out that way, and go looking for the one route that they knew did work . . .
We’d reached one of the choke points, where I’d had to squeeze past the remains of a rockfall on the way in. Something in the futures drew my attention, and as I tilted the torch beam down I saw a flash of amber eyes. “We should be far enough,” I told Crystal. “Put the portal there.” I pointed to the middle of the corridor. “I’ll check for where we’ll be coming out. Anne, you’re on lookout.”
I saw Anne’s eyes drift behind me. To her eyes, I knew the blink fox would be a beacon of life in the darkness. “Just watch for Sagash and his apprentices,” I said, putting a little emphasis on the words. “I’ll handle everything else.”
Anne gave me a look, then nodded. Crystal had been taking a small item from a hidden pocket. If she’d noticed Anne’s instant of hesitation, she didn’t show it. “Is our destination safe?”
“Well, I guess that depends on where you keyed that stone, doesn’t it?”
“If this gate is going to open into a pack of shadows, it would be helpful to know in advance.”
“I won’t be able to tell until closer to the time,” I said. Which was actually true. “Trust me, if your spell’s about to get us killed, I’ll make sure you don’t finish.”
Crystal raised her eyebrows, then turned and began focusing on the gate stone. Behind my back I held up a palm towards the blink fox, then one finger, then made a beckoning motion before taking my hand away. I knew it was smart enough to understand speech; I hoped it was smart enough to understand sign language. I didn’t turn around to look, but I sensed the fox draw back slightly.
Crystal’s gate spell was under way; there was no visible light but I could see the portal beginning to form. Her spellcasting was precise, controlled . . . better than mine, in fact, at least when it came to gates, which was mildly irritating. I let that annoyance occupy the front of my mind, using it as a shield to mask what I was really thinking.
I hadn’t forgotten that Anne and I were standing within arm’s reach of someone who not only had tried to kill us both multiple times but would do it again with roughly the same level of concern that most people give to clipping their nails. Crystal was standing only a few feet away with her back turned. My hand was only inches from the hilt of Ji-yeong’s shortsword. Very distantly, at a level of my mind that I did not allow myself to focus on, I was aware of how easy it would be to take a step forward, yank her head back as I brought up the sword—
I forced the thought away. Not yet.
The gate was forming and I focused. As the future in which the gate materialised became closer, I checked what would happen if I stayed put, went through it, moved left and right. “Clear,” I said just before Crystal finished and the oval portal appeared in the corridor, filling the dark tunnel with sunlight.
Crystal moved to the gate, looking to either side. Through it I could see the walls of a stone room, sunlight painting the floor. Crystal began to step through and I followed instantly, beckoning behind my back as I did. I felt a flicker of space magic, almost lost in the more powerful signal of the gate, as something blinked through the portal and out of sight.
We came down into a windowed room with dust motes floating in the air, a double circle of dark green stone set into the floor. “You don’t need to follow quite so closely,” Crystal said over her shoulder as Anne stepped through behind us.
“Just making sure.” It was the next gate I was worried about. I couldn’t let Crystal use it first; in fact, I didn’t want her to be the one opening the gate at all. Too easy for her to let it close while I was halfway through. “Anne? This the place?”
Anne nodded. As Crystal let the gate close behind us, Anne moved to the window and looked out, shading her eyes. “Alex?”
I already knew what I was going to see, but even so, viewing it with my own eyes gave me a chill. There was a swarm of black dots in the sky. I tried to imagine how long we’d last if that many shadows landed on us, and quickly stopped imagining. “Crystal? Does Sagash know that you know about this place?”
“I imagine we’ll find out within the next few minutes.”
“Guys?” Anne said, “I don’t want to rush, but about fifty of those shadows just started heading this way.”
Crystal walked back to where we were standing and held out a fluted rod. She’d drawn it out without my noticing. “I hope you brought a gate stone to an outside location.”
I looked back at her for a second, then shook it off, took the rod, and went through my pockets for my gate stones. My shop, the safe house, the park . . . I didn’t want Crystal near anywhere I lived. I held the rod and the stone to Anne. “Here.”
“Keep it touching the end of the rod,” Crystal said. “The encoding will do the rest.” She seemed quite unconcerned. What are you up to?
Anne moved to the green circle and started focusing on the gate stone, keeping the rod touched to it. You don’t realise how much of a hassle it is to try to get around wards until you finally use the right key. Green light welled up around her hands, and I could already see the gate starting to form; Anne knew this castle very well and the gate stone was doing the rest. Looking ahead, I knew that the shadows were on their way, but they wouldn’t make it in time. For the first time I started to let myself believe that we might actually make it out.
I couldn’t see the fox, but without turning to look I knew it had moved around to behind us, hiding in the doorway. It would be able to teleport straight through. A green-ringed oval was forming in front of Anne, the portal becoming opaque, and I moved forward casually, placing myself in front of Crystal. Crystal didn’t seem to notice.
The gate flickered . . . and opened. Leafy branches and green grass showed through the portal, a cool breeze blowing through. It wasn’t so very different from the greener areas of the castle, but it meant everything to me, and the sight of the world outside the shadow realm was a rush. I jumped through, coming down on grass, and into the beams of sunlight that came down through the leaves above. The hum of traffic sounded through the trees, and I could hear distant voices from outside the park. We were in London again, and I felt light-headed with relief. Just for an instant, my guard wasn’t up.
And against someone who can read your thoughts, an instant’s too long.
Pain exploded inside my head and my vision greyed out. It felt like being hit with a horrendous headache, distilled and concentrated into a couple of seconds. Nausea and dizziness flooded over me and I stumbled.
As my eyesight came back, I found myself looking back at the portal. Crystal had stepped through and was just turning to look back into the shadow realm. She was coming around to focus on Anne, and at some distant level I knew that she was going to hit Anne before Anne could follow her through. Crystal couldn’t beat Anne in a fair fight, but she didn’t need to; she just had to break Anne’s concentration on the spell. I fumbled for a weapon, but I was still dazed and my reactions weren’t fast enough.
There was a flicker of space magic and a red-brown shape latched onto Crystal’s arm. Crystal screamed, jerked away. The blink fox hung on, eyes glinting, teeth sunk into Crystal’s forearm as she frantically tried to shake it off before sending another mindblast into the fox from two feet away.
The fox dropped, hitting the grass with a thud. Crystal looked up angrily, blood on her arm . . .
. . . and found herself facing Anne.
In the couple of seconds Crystal had been distracted, Anne had made it through. The gate flickered and faded behind her as she dropped concentration on the spell, letting the gate stone and focus fall to the grass.
Anne looked at Crystal and slightly flexed the fingers of one hand.
Crystal turned and ran. She bolted through the leaves and under the low-hanging branches and was gone, racing footsteps fading into the distance. Anne watched her go, then turned to me. “I’m all right,” I said, pulling myself up and stumbling a little.
“I know,” Anne said, reaching out to place a hand wreathed in green light against my chest. Energy flowed through me and my head cleared, the pain vanishing. “Are we safe?”
I looked into the future and saw . . . nothing. No combat, no danger. Crystal wasn’t coming back. “We’re safe.”
“It’s finished?”
“It’s finished.”
Anne nodded, then her legs seemed to give way and she slumped to the ground, kneeling on the grass, head down. I started to reach out, then stopped myself and pulled out my phone, speed-dialling a number. It rang twice before picking up. “Caldera,” a suspicious voice said in my ear. “Who is this?”
“It’s Verus,” I said. “I’m at the park we use for gating in Camden and so’s Crystal. I last saw her sixty seconds ago heading north.”
“Crystal? Are you sure?”
“Just pass it on to whoever’s job this is,” I said wearily. The adrenaline rush was wearing off and I felt utterly exhausted. “I’m going home.”
“Wait! How did—?”
I hung up and switched my phone off. To one side, the blink fox had pulled itself upright and was looking at me. “Thanks,” I told it simply.
The fox blinked at me, then tilted its head up and sniffed the air, nostrils flaring to catch the spring breeze and the scents of grass and flowers. It came to its feet in a flowing motion and trotted away without a backward glance.
I watched the fox disappear into the undergrowth, then shook my head and held my hand down to Anne. “Let’s go.”
Anne looked up at me and for an instant I could have sworn she looked surprised. Then she put a hand into mine and let me pull her up. She looked around and took a deep breath, then started walking. I fell into step beside her and we headed home.