Marked

9

‘And that brings us up to date,’ Bahamus finished. ‘We have not heard further from Onyx, and all signs indicate that negotiations have come to a close.’

‘They aren’t closed until we agree,’ Sal Sarque said. ‘And by “we” I mean the whole Council, Bahamus, not just you.’

‘I agree,’ Alma said. ‘Why were we not consulted?’

Bahamus inclined his head. ‘You are being consulted now.’

‘This seems very ill-advised,’ Undaaris said sharply. ‘I think a matter like this should have been brought before the entire Council from the beginning.’

‘There were security considerations,’ Bahamus said. ‘In any case, the final decision is of course subject to a full Council vote.’ He nodded in my direction. ‘If you have any further queries about the details, Verus is better informed to answer.’

Several pairs of eyes turned in my direction; none were friendly. Thanks, Bahamus, I thought. Well, it wasn’t like I hadn’t seen this coming.

‘Very well, Verus,’ Alma said coolly. ‘Perhaps you would like to inform us as to how you plan to carry out this … escapade.’

‘I’m afraid I can’t take credit for the plan or its execution,’ I said. You’re not hanging this one on me. ‘But the basic idea is that Onyx will supply us with a time and a place where Mage Drakh is due to make a scheduled appearance. The Keepers will prepare the area in advance, then move in once his presence is confirmed.’

‘What kind of appearance?’ Druss asked.

‘Onyx hasn’t given details,’ I said. ‘However, from some hints he’s let slip, and from some additional information gathered by Council intelligence, it seems probable that it involves the adept defence association we’ve been hearing about. Mage Drakh apparently has been due to speak at one of their gatherings for some time. It seems likely that this is how Onyx is planning to track Drakh down.’

‘You think he’s going to be there?’ Druss asked.

‘I think it’s plausible,’ I said. ‘Exactly when he’ll be there, and whether Onyx will be informed enough to know, is another question.’

Bahamus cleared his throat. ‘Onyx’s information, in this regard at least, seems accurate. We’ve cross-checked the other details he’s supplied, and all have been corroborated.’

‘How do we know he’s not setting us up?’ Sal Sarque demanded.

‘We don’t,’ I said. ‘Council intelligence is reasonably sure that Onyx and Drakh are not working together. How-ever, Onyx could still be planning something of his own.’

‘You think he is?’ Druss asked.

‘Personally?’ I said. ‘No. I think Onyx intends to set two of his enemies against one another. He doesn’t need to betray us. From his perspective, no matter whether we beat Drakh or Drakh beats us, he comes out ahead.’

Druss gave a slow nod, and from out of the corner of my eye, I could see that even Alma and Sarque looked grudgingly convinced. I’d noticed over the past months that the fastest way to sell the Council something was to tell them that people were acting out of self-interest.

‘How many of these adepts are there?’ Sal Sarque asked. ‘We going to have enough to deal with them?’

‘The Keepers are planning to deploy additional security forces,’ Bahamus said. ‘The adepts should not be a concern.’

‘The majority of the adepts are not aligned with— Drakh.’ I said. I caught myself from saying ‘Richard’ just in time. ‘I don’t believe an aggressive approach is necessary.’

‘Yes, Verus, your feelings on the subject of adepts are well known,’ Alma said dryly. ‘The Council will decide how to deal with the issue in due course.’

I set my teeth but didn’t answer. Alma glanced to one side. ‘Levistus?’

‘The plan seems … potentially workable,’ Levistus said. His eyes rested upon me, considering. ‘Depending on whether this associate of Verus can deliver on his promises.’

‘Onyx is not my associate,’ I said sharply. ‘And I most certainly would not count on him to deliver on anything.’

‘Regardless,’ Levistus said, looking at Bahamus, ‘I must still question the price.’

An argument started over the terms, and how many imbued items they should be paying. I hid my irritation as they second-guessed my performance in the negotiations.

‘Any amount of imbued items is too many,’ Sal Sarque said for at least the third time. ‘It sets a bad precedent—’

‘And you think having Drakh running around with more than fifty is better?’ Druss asked.

‘I don’t see why—’

‘If I may,’ a new voice said, ‘I have a question for Verus.’

The other members of the Senior Council turned to look at the man who had just spoken. He was tall and thin, and wore a suit with a red silk scarf knotted loosely around his neck. This was Spire, one of the swing votes of the Council. I’d only seen him in the Star Chamber four or five times.

‘Well?’ Alma said when Spire didn’t go on.

Spire turned to me. ‘What do you think of this plan?’

‘I’m … not quite sure what you mean.’

‘It’s quite simple,’ Spire said. ‘You’ve answered many questions as to the technical details of this operation. However, you have been silent as to whether, in your personal opinion, this plan is likely to work.’

‘That would be a decision for the Senior Council,’ I said.

‘Indeed,’ Spire said. ‘And as a member of the Junior Council, you have the right to advise.’

‘Come on, Verus,’ Druss said impatiently. ‘Stop dancing.’

I hesitated. ‘I don’t have full access to the operational intelligence involved.’

‘We understand this,’ Spire said. ‘Go on.’

I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. Bahamus’s gaze was especially sharp and I chose my words carefully. ‘As I said, my access is limited. However, based only on the information available to me, then my best guess would be no.’

Several of the Council frowned. ‘Excuse me?’ Alma said.

‘You just said Onyx was going to hold up his end,’ Sal Sarque said.

‘No, I said I didn’t think he was intending to sell us out,’ I said. ‘But it’s not Onyx’s intentions I’d be worried about.’

‘Then what should we be worrying about?’ Druss asked.

‘About Onyx screwing things up,’ I said. ‘I really don’t trust him to carry out this kind of plot without botching it somehow. That’s problem number one. Problem number two is that within an hour of returning from our meeting with Onyx, my aide and I were attacked by a group of mages and adepts.’

‘And this is relevant because … ?’ Alma asked.

‘I think we can safely assume the timing was not a coincidence.’

‘I fail to grasp your reasoning,’ Levistus said. ‘Are you implying that you were attacked by Drakh?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t think those men were sent by Drakh.’ I carefully didn’t look at Sal Sarque; I knew damn well where those men had come from. ‘However, they knew about our negotiations. And if they could find out, so can others.’

Alma frowned. ‘This seems speculative—’

I cut her off. ‘It’s well established that Richard Drakh has an effective intelligence network. The Keepers have been trying to get him for years and he’s always managed to evade them. If one group has caught wind of this, then I think it’s likely that Richard Drakh has too, and if he hasn’t he will soon. He may not know the details, but he’d only need to hear a rumour of me meeting with Onyx to become suspicious, and once he starts investigating it won’t take him long to find out more.’

I was about to keep going, but Alma raised a hand. ‘Thank you, Verus. Your opinion is noted.’ She glanced around. ‘Regardless of whether we accept the specific terms, I think it would be appropriate to vote on whether to move forward with the plan.’

I sat back; my part was over. ‘I agree,’ Bahamus said. ‘I vote in favour.’

‘I vote in favour as well,’ Sal Sarque said. ‘Though I’m noting my reservations about the way in which we were notified and the people we’re going to be working with.’ It was obvious from the glance he shot me that he wasn’t only talking about Onyx.

‘Well, I vote against,’ Druss said. ‘Sorry, Bahamus, but this whole thing smells dodgy. Relying on someone like Onyx? Bad idea.’

There was a silence. Heads turned to look at Undaaris, who hunched slightly under the gazes. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘There are many issues to consider …’

‘Today, please,’ Alma said.

‘I … I’ll abstain.’

I saw Levistus shoot a glance at Undaaris. Levistus sensed my gaze and flicked his eyes to me, and for an instant it felt as though we shared the same thought. I may hate you, and you may hate me, but I’ll at least give you credit for deserving more respect than Undaaris.

‘I also abstain,’ Spire said.

Two to one, I thought. Everyone turned to look at Alma and Levistus.

Alma tapped her fingers on the table. ‘A risk, but worth the attempt,’ she said at last. ‘I vote in favour.’

I felt rather than heard several of the mages around the table let out a breath. The secretary’s pen scratched. And that’s it, I thought with a sense of foreboding. The decision was made.

The mages of the Council came filing out of the Star Chamber in ones and twos, their aides splitting off to join them. Bahamus was towards the middle of the crowd, and gave me a cool look as he passed.

Anne glanced after him. Did something happen?

I didn’t do a very good job of backing his proposal, I admitted. Maybe I should have kept my reservations to myself.

Movement in the futures caught my attention, and I turned to see Spire walking towards us. ‘Verus,’ he greeted me. ‘If you’re not too busy, perhaps you’d like to have a word.’

‘Alone?’

Spire inclined his head to Anne. ‘Mage Walker is welcome to join us should you so wish.’

‘In that case, I’d be happy to.’

We started walking together, Anne falling in a little behind us. I caught the glances from other aides as we left the anteroom; everyone would know about this meeting soon. ‘You aren’t worried about being seen with me?’ I asked.

‘Should I be?’

‘No, but that doesn’t seem to stop plenty of others.’

We walked down the corridor and into one of the conservatories. The War Rooms might have been designed as a fortress, but people have been living here for a very long time and they’ve added quite a few amenities over the years. The conservatories are my favourites. There are two of them, and they look like very nice ceremonial gardens that somehow happen to have been transplanted deep underground. There are flowers, shrubs, small trees and even a fish pond fed by a bubbling fountain. I’m not sure how they keep the plants growing, but it’s certainly a pleasant place to walk. As a side benefit, the open paths and the noise of the fountain make it very hard for anyone to eavesdrop.

‘What would be your estimate of the chances of this plan’s success?’ Spire asked.

‘Maybe ten or twenty per cent.’

‘So low?’

‘If anything, that’s being generous,’ I said. Privately I’d have put it in single figures. ‘To be successful, an operation like this needs to be kept secret. Too many people know.’

‘Then what do you think the most likely outcome will be?’

I shrugged. ‘Based on Richard Drakh’s previous behaviour, I’d expect him to let the Keepers spring their trap and be nowhere near when it closes. The Keepers rough up or kill a bunch of adepts and have nothing to show for it. Relations between the Council and the adept community break down further, and Drakh gets away and makes the Council look foolish.’

‘That does seem plausible,’ Spire said. ‘But why do you base that on his past behaviour?’

‘Drakh has always been … well, the best word would be pragmatic,’ I said. ‘Maximum return for minimum risk. He’s fine with retreating if it serves his purposes.’

Spire nodded. ‘But in that case, why attack the Vault?’

I was silent for a moment. ‘Presumably because he felt that what was in there was worth the risk of fighting.’

We stopped by the fountain. Water foamed and bubbled from the ornamental feature at the far side; below the surface, koi hung lazily, keeping position with an occasional twitch of their fins. They were each more than a foot long, their scales a mixture of gold and white and red. ‘Do you know why Morden was raised to the Senior Council?’ Spire asked.

‘I assume his acquisitions from White Rose had something to do with it.’

‘Vihaela’s dowry, yes. Do you know how many previous Dark mages have attempted something similar?’

I shook my head.

‘You can look it up in the histories if you’re curious. But he wasn’t the first, or the twentieth.’

I looked at Spire. He was tall enough that the two of us were on a level. ‘So why do you think he succeeded where all the others failed?’

‘Morden no doubt believes it is due to his special acumen,’ Spire said. ‘Personally, I think the answer is simpler. The Council is experiencing one of its periodic transitions. Morden was in the right place at the right time.’

I shrugged. ‘I suppose that’s possible.’

‘You think Drakh might overthrow the Council, don’t you?’

I glanced at Spire sharply; he tilted his head. ‘You’ve clearly considered the possibility,’ Spire said. ‘That if you hold out long enough, Drakh might take care of your enemies for you.’

‘I would of course never consider siding with Richard Drakh against the Council.’

‘It won’t happen, you know. The Council will simply adapt.’

‘Don’t people always think that every long-lived institution is immortal right up until the point where it falls apart?’

Spire smiled fleetingly. ‘Perhaps. Here’s another question for you. If you were on the Senior Council, what would you do with that position?’

I looked at Spire, considering. What the hell. I might as well tell the truth. ‘First, I’d put an end to Levistus’s constant attempts to get me killed,’ I said. ‘Once I was done with that, I’d use my position to try to speak for the people who don’t have any kind of a voice. Right now, the only ones who have any real representation on the Light Council are Light mages. The remaining 99.9 per cent of British magical society are left out in the cold. Independents, adepts, sensitives, magical creatures and yes, even Dark mages. They’re all real, and they’re all out there, but if you listen to the discussions in that chamber, then half the time it’s as though they don’t even exist, and the other half they’re treated as potential enemies.’

‘And you think all of those groups have similar interests?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I’m not completely naïve. I’m aware that any political system will disproportionately favour those with influence and power. But there has to be some sort of balance. Right now, the Council only represents those with influence and power. That’s not sustainable. Perhaps it’s as you say, and Morden took advantage of that situation to get his seat. But in that case, it raises an obvious question, doesn’t it? If Morden was the counterbalancing element, and now he’s in prison, who’s going to take his place?’

‘A very good question,’ Spire said, and nodded to me. ‘Thank you for the discussion, Verus. We’ll talk again. Mage Walker.’ He turned and left.

Anne and I watched him go. Well, I said once he was gone. That was interesting.

Do you think that went well or badly?

I’m not really sure, I admitted. But one thing’s for certain: I don’t think we can count on him to bail us out when we’re in trouble. I glanced at Anne. I’m going to visit Arachne. Want to come?

I’d … rather not. Sorry.

Okay. See you tomorrow.

‘… and that’s when we split up,’ I finished.

‘I see,’ Arachne said. She was hunched over me, her two front legs almost brushing mine. It’s how she prefers to talk. Her eight eyes watched me opaquely, but I could hear the thoughtful tone in her voice. Around us, the clothes and threads of Arachne’s lair shone in the light.

‘So?’ I said. ‘What do you think?’

‘Based on your meeting with Anne’s other self,’ Arachne said, ‘then I would agree. Your dreamstone theory does seem like the best explanation. And, as Luna said, it fits with Richard’s previous actions.’

‘Then how do you think we should stop it?’

‘I’m afraid I don’t have any advice better than hers,’ Arachne said. ‘Talk to Anne.’

‘But you’re you,’ I said. ‘Haven’t you got anything that could help? Some sort of item, or a spell?’

‘Only to a very limited extent,’ Arachne said. ‘I could weave a shield, some sort of cocoon to screen Anne from the jinn’s influence. But it would require her to remain here, and she’d be unable to leave without losing her protection. I doubt very much she’d be willing to live like that for ever. Besides, I’m not at all sure it would work. Shields function best when they protect against something from outside. The jinn’s access comes from within.’

‘Have you got anything that would work from within?’

‘No, and even if I did, I wouldn’t use it. Any kind of effect powerful enough to prevent Anne’s other self from acting would have the potential to cause lasting mental damage to both sides of her personality. I can’t get you out of this one.’

‘I know,’ I said, raising a hand. ‘You’re going to say I should talk to her.’

‘There’s a reason everyone keeps giving you the same advice.’

‘And I’m going to. But I’m starting to think it’s not going to work.’

‘Why?’

‘We know all of this was set up by Richard,’ I said. ‘The Vault, the jinn, everything. It wasn’t the only thing he was aiming for with that raid, but it was definitely up there on his priority list, and he’s been planning it for a long time. Now, maybe if I talk to Anne, I can persuade her, and maybe she can figure out some way to fix this. But even if I do, my gut tells me that it won’t be that easy. Richard wouldn’t have staked that much on this plan if I could undo the whole thing with a pep talk. There’ll be some other way for the jinn to gain access. One way or another, this is not going away.’

‘Unfortunately, that does seem quite possible.’

‘And that’s not the only problem,’ I said. ‘There’s Rachel. That prophecy of Shireen’s said that if I wanted to live, I’d have to turn her against Richard, and I still haven’t found any way to do that. I’ve tried to get in touch with her, and it hasn’t worked. Even if it did, she’d probably just try to kill me on sight. And then if that isn’t enough, I still need to find some way to get an edge against Levistus or Sal Sarque or whoever else tries to get rid of me next. None of the imbued items we’ve found have worked and we’re running out of time.’

‘So what course of action are you considering?’

‘I’ve tried all my personal sources of information,’ I said. ‘And I’ve asked you, and all my other friends. I think I need to go further.’ I looked at Arachne. ‘With your permission, I’d like to speak with your … acquaintance in the tunnels below.’

Arachne was silent.

‘Is that okay?’ I asked.

Arachne withdrew her legs from either side of me and walked away. The movements of her eight legs were slow, almost sluggish. ‘Arachne?’ I asked. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes,’ Arachne answered. She turned back to me, legs moving in intricate steps. ‘Perfectly.’

I looked at her doubtfully. ‘You seem a little …’

‘Something long foreseen,’ Arachne said. She waved one leg towards the tunnels beyond. ‘Go ahead.’

‘Right now?’

‘One time is exactly as good as another.’

I rose to my feet and started across the room, then paused in the tunnel entrance. Something about Arachne’s manner felt off. ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’

‘I’ll be fine, Alex,’ Arachne said. ‘I’ll be waiting here.’ She lifted a leg. ‘Go.’

In the caverns beneath Arachne’s lair lives a dragon.

I’ve only met the dragon twice, and both visits are hard to remember. There was something disorientating about the experience, like looking through an unfocused lens or trying to retrace a path you followed in a dream. Dragons don’t fit in our world, or maybe it’s more accurate to say that we don’t fit in theirs. According to Arachne, dragons exist outside time as we perceive it, only touching our timeline at points of their choosing. To them, our world is like a story in a book: they can flip between pages as they choose, and if they decide to leave, we have exactly as much ability to stop them as a fictional character has to stop you from closing the book and putting it on a shelf. So Arachne says, at least, and nothing I’ve seen has given me reason to doubt her. But while Arachne will tell me about dragons in general, she shuts up when I probe for specifics as to this dragon in particular. Some of the things she’s said have implied a special relationship, but what that relationship is, I don’t know.

The tunnels beyond the lair went down and kept on going. To begin with they looked to be carved out of rock, but the further I went the more jagged and bumpy they became; something about them made me sure that they had existed for a very, very long time. Occasional forks and turnings appeared in the light of my torch, but I walked by without paying attention. Normally I’d use my divination to navigate under these kinds of conditions, but somehow I knew that in this place, that didn’t matter. If the dragon wanted me to find it, I’d find it.

I can’t say exactly how long I walked. It felt like maybe an hour, but it could have been more. Gradually I realised that I wasn’t walking through a tunnel any more. My divination was still showing me a narrow path, but the light of my torch wasn’t revealing any walls. I clicked off the torch and let my eyes adjust to the darkness.

As my night vision set in, pinpoints appeared in the blackness around me, coalescing into stars. Not the sky of the Hollow, but the constellations of Earth: the Great Square of Pegasus, Orion, the bright Summer Triangle of Vega, Deneb and Altair. The stars were below me as well as above; peering down and to the left and right, I could see others, ones that would never appear in the sky of England. I was walking on a thick pathway, twisting and winding, hanging suspended in a bottomless void. The starlight was enough to see by; I put away the torch and kept walking.

My footsteps were the only sound in the silence. Stars twinkled, bright against the darkness, the ribbon of the Milky Way a curving shape above my head. As I walked I began to make out other paths to the right and to the left, visible as black bands against the starry backdrop. Connecting paths linked my route to theirs, and the distance between them grew shorter the further I went, converging to a point.

At the centre of the web, the paths linked to form a small island. Through some trick of the starlight, the middle of the island was illuminated, revealing a heavy stone chair. Sitting straight-backed upon it was a human shape. I approached and stood in front of her, studying her.

At first glance she looked like a woman of indeterminate age, maybe thirty and maybe fifty. She wore a white garment that left her arms bare and looked something like a cross between a pleated dress and a toga. Her features were plain and ordinary, yet at the same time there was something regal about them, as though she was accustomed to being obeyed. She looked human, but even if I hadn’t known what to expect, I think I would have guessed that she wasn’t. It was the eyes: even from a distance they didn’t look quite right.

Mages usually steer clear of dragons. Received wisdom is that they’re dangerous and hostile, and the mages in stories who go to dragons usually come to bad ends. I don’t think the stories are completely true – dragons aren’t hostile to humans, any more than you’re hostile to an ant. Dangerous, on the other hand … that’s hard to argue with.

There was a reason I hadn’t come here before. Dragons can tell you your future, after a fashion. But I’ve never known whether they tell you what’s going to happen, or whether hearing it from them is what causes it to happen. The one thing I was absolutely sure of was that this wasn’t going to be comfortable.

I bowed slightly. ‘Thank you for seeing me.’

The dragon looked at me without answering.

‘Is there something I should call you?’ I asked. ‘Because we were never exactly introduced.’

The dragon spoke, its voice clear and musical. ‘You have three questions.’

Right, I thought. Not one for small talk. I chose my words carefully. ‘How can I break Anne free of the jinn’s influence?’

‘You cannot.’

I waited for the dragon to continue. It didn’t. ‘Is—?’ I began, then stopped myself. I’d been about to ask, ‘Is that it?’ ‘That is … not as helpful an answer as I was expecting.’

The dragon watched me.

Okay, let’s try adding more context. ‘I’ve been told that to live, I have to turn Rachel against Richard,’ I said. ‘How can I accomplish that?’

‘You must convince her of the truth of her fears.’

What fears? About the only emotions I ever saw from Rachel these days were anger and contempt. If she was afraid of anything, I didn’t know what it was. ‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Then please answer me this, as well as you can. How can I become powerful enough to protect the people I care about and stay alive?’

‘You cannot.’

‘What?’

The dragon looked at me.

‘What am I supposed to do about any of those answers?’

‘That is your decision to make.’

‘No,’ I said. Frustration pushed out my lingering fear and I walked forward, coming to a stop in front of the dragon. ‘This is useless. You said you’d answer three questions. Answer them in a way I can understand!’

‘You are a child looking through a keyhole.’ Grey eyes looked steadily into mine. ‘I may show you the other side, but I can neither bring you the key nor turn it. In the past you have rendered service to Arachne, and it is for this reason that you are here. Should you wish it, I will answer more fully. But be warned: in looking at your paths, you will change them. There is no turning back.’

‘Then let’s hear it.’

‘The jinn’s influence on your companion is due to the link between them. It was established at their first contact and is a function of the jinn’s own power, which is far beyond yours. If you attempt to sever the link, it will destroy you. Rachel does not fear you as you are now, but she fears what you might become. Yet mad and broken as she is, she sees you more clearly than you see yourself. The next time you meet, do not talk; listen. Until you understand the ways in which the two of you are alike, any attempt you make to alter Rachel’s path will fail. Finally, you do not possess the capacity to amass sufficient power to protect your friends and to stay alive; only one of the two.’

A chill went through me. ‘What do you mean?’ But even as I said it, I knew the answer.

‘There are many paths for you to increase your abilities, but only one that will enable them to reach their fullest potential: that which you already wielded and abandoned. Yet even should you win the battle of minds, the power within is too great for your body to long sustain. You will burn like a candle, bright but short-lived.’

I stared back at the dragon. ‘Or I could run away,’ I said. ‘That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it? I could gain enough power to stay alive, but not if I want to protect everyone else.’

‘Yes.’

I looked away. ‘If I take that path,’ I said after a moment, ‘then who?’

‘Do you really want to know?’

‘No.’ I paused, looked back at the dragon. ‘Yes. I mean, I already know. It’s Anne, isn’t it?’

‘Anne and Variam,’ the dragon said. ‘Luna’s fate lies along another path.’

I looked away again, out over the island. Stars in a void formed bright pinpoints above the rugged stone. ‘So that’s the choice I’m going to get,’ I said quietly.

‘No,’ the dragon said. ‘It is the choice you would have had.’ It nodded to me. ‘Go.’

I looked back at the dragon. Now that I was close, I could see its eyes; they were cloudy and opaque. Something tugged at me, urging me to look into them; with an effort of will I averted my gaze, then turned and walked away. The dragon said nothing, and when I turned back to look after fifty paces, the woman and the chair were gone.