Marked

5

Why did you say yes? Anne asked.

We were walking back up through the tunnels of the War Rooms, the temperature slowly rising as we drew closer to the surface. Do you think I shouldn’t have? I asked.

Not exactly, Anne said slowly. But isn’t it going to be dangerous?

Probably, I said. But if I said no, they’d just find someone else. This way at least I get to stay in the loop. And honestly, I think I’ve got a better chance of dealing with Morden than some random Council functionary.

We passed out of a storage wing and took a spiral staircase upwards, our footsteps echoing off the stone. Besides, I said, I think what Bahamus was saying is basically right. Executing Morden isn’t going to solve any of their problems unless they get Richard as well. And Morden might be able to do that.

Might?

Richard’s pretty good at seeing things coming, I admitted. Honestly, even if they do turn Morden, I wouldn’t give the plan more than a fifty-fifty chance at best. Most likely result is that they recover a few more imbued items and do his organisation a bit of damage, but nothing fatal.

We walked a little way further in silence. That isn’t what’s really bothering you though, is it? Anne asked.

I nodded. The way Morden was arrested.

What about it?

You remember how that happened? I said. The Keepers sent a strike team to Morden’s mansion. And Morden gave himself up. No resistance, no escape attempts. He just let them arrest him.

Okay …

Why? I asked. If he’d wanted to run, he could have. And if he’d wanted to fight, he could have given the Keepers a pretty hard time of it. He didn’t do either.

You think he wanted to be arrested?

Maybe, but that doesn’t make much sense either. It’s not as though he’s accomplishing anything sitting in that cell. Anyway, I don’t think we can make much of a guess at his motives. What’s really bothering me is something different. This offer is designed to appeal to Morden’s self-interest. Do what the Council says, or they’ll kill you. Right?

Right.

But by letting himself be arrested, he’s put himself in danger already. I mean, if the Council had wanted his trial done, they could have finished it and had him executed already. Or he could have been killed ‘resisting arrest’. Not like it’s the first time that has happened. So letting them arrest him points to one of two things. Either he’s got some kind of trump card that he’s very confident is going to get him out of jail … or he believes enough in what he’s doing that he’s willing to put his life on the line to do it.

Anne frowned, thinking. I’ve never really thought about what Morden believes in. Do you really think he could be that dedicated?

I don’t know, I said. Doesn’t exactly seem to fit with the Dark mind-set. But if it is, then this whole ‘offer you can’t refuse’ is going to be a lot less convincing than Bahamus and Maradok are hoping it’ll be.

Are you going to go see him?

Not much point putting it off. Sort out those meetings with the Keepers and with Druss, then it’ll be time to look up visiting hours.

One of the differences between magical and mundane society: there are a lot fewer prisons.

The habit of dealing with lawbreakers by sticking them in a confined space for a long time is pretty new, historically speaking – it only really caught on in a big way a couple of centuries ago, and so far the Light Councils of the world haven’t chosen to follow suit. For one thing, it’s a lot trickier to imprison a mage than a normal. While there are ways to make it harder for a mage to use their magic, it’s time-consuming, takes a lot of resources and isn’t guaranteed to work. Doing it on a large scale for a significant fraction of the magical population would be prohibitively expensive … or at least that’s what the Council says. My personal suspicion is that it also has a lot to do with the Council lacking the religious and moral beliefs that brought the mundane world’s prison reform movement about in the first place. Either way, if you commit a crime against the Council, you won’t generally be thrown in prison. Minor offences are punishable by fines or service; major ones usually get the death penalty, and there isn’t much in between.

Every now and again, though, the Council does need to confine someone, either because neither a fine nor execution is an option, or (more often) because they simply haven’t decided what to do with them yet. And that’s why they have San Vittore.

‘Are you carrying on your person any one-shot items, focus items, imbued items or magical items of any sort?’ the stone-faced guard asked me.

‘No.’

‘Do you have on your person any kind of blade or edged weapon, any kind of firearm or projectile weapon, any kind of explosive device or anything that could be assembled into an explosive device?’

‘No.’

‘Are you carrying any drugs or drug-related items or paraphernalia, any flammable or corrosive liquids, any alcohol in any form, any poisonous or infectious materials such as pesticides, insecticides, cyanides, laboratory specimens or bacterial cultures, and are you carrying any gas or pressure containers including but not limited to aerosols, carbon dioxide cartridges, oxygen tanks, Mace, pepper spray or liquid nitrogen?’

I looked at the guard with raised eyebrows. ‘Oxygen tanks?’

‘Are you carrying any of the listed items?’

‘No, I keep those in my other coat.’

‘Are you carrying any cameras or other photographic devices, mobile telephones or other communication devices, laptop computers, tablet computers, personal computers, tape recorders, digital recorders, digital music players, CD players, DVD players or anything that can record, project or store digital information in any way?’

‘You know that nobody actually uses CD players any more, right?’

‘Are—’

‘—you carrying any of the listed items, I know,’ I said with a sigh. ‘The answer is still no. I already had all these questions asked by the guy who scanned me.’

‘Are you aware that bringing any of the items listed, or any other item that can facilitate an escape in any way, whether knowingly or unknowingly, will be considered a breach of the First Clause of the Concord and punishable to the fullest extent of the law?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Can we go now?’

The guard pushed a set of forms across the table. ‘Read and sign, then follow me. You are not to travel anywhere unaccompanied in this facility under any circumstances. Attempting to do so will result in immediate termination of your visit and prosecution to the fullest extent of the law.’

For someone who uses long words, this guy has a really limited vocabulary. I scanned the forms, scribbled my signature in two places and dated it. ‘Let’s get on with it.’

The guard examined the signature, put the forms away in a drawer, then got to his feet and headed towards the door at the back of the room. I followed.

We came out into a corridor of grey stone, the floor worn smooth from years of use. San Vittore is divided into wings, stretching out from a single central node, and through the narrow windows to the left and right I could see other corridors receding into the distance. The corridors were walled in grey, with red tiles on the roof. Beyond the corridors, both above and below, was nothingness, a black void with barely visible lines of purple and red spidering through the darkness in a strange, disturbing way that made your eyes ache if you stared at them for too long. I didn’t know what would happen if you stepped off the edge into that darkness, and I didn’t really want to find out.

All in all, while San Vittore did look like a fortress, it didn’t look like the old Middle Ages kind – instead the design made me think more of the big low-slung polygon-shaped fortifications that had evolved in Europe during the age of gunpowder. It definitely didn’t look like a castle rising out of the haze, which suggested that Anne’s dream had been just that.

We passed through a guard post, followed by another checkpoint, this one staffed by mantis golems, their silver and gold eyes swivelling to watch us as we passed. The more we walked, the more I was struck just by how over the top the security here was. Even getting in and out of the bubble realm was fantastically difficult – maybe a dedicated gate magic specialist might have been able to figure out a method of entry other than the Council facility that held the linking portal, but I couldn’t – and once you were inside, your problems would only multiply. Even with all Morden’s power, I couldn’t see him escaping.

Which, again, raised the question of why he’d allowed himself to be taken here. Well, I would be meeting him face to face soon enough. But I still would have felt a lot more comfortable knowing what he was really up to.

The guard stopped in front of a solid metal door. ‘You have forty-five minutes,’ he told me. ‘Inner and outer doors won’t open if there are any unauthorised presences in the airlock. Understand?’

I nodded. I didn’t bother to ask if we’d be watched while I was inside: I already knew the answer would be yes. The door swung open with a hiss of hydraulics and I stepped inside into an airlock-style room, empty stone with metal doors ahead and behind. The outer door closed behind me.

As I stood in the airlock, I was uncomfortably aware of just how easy it would be for the guards to forgo letting me out. Yes, this prison was supposed to be for Morden, but now that I was inside, it would stop me just as easily. I’d scanned the futures extensively before coming (and taken precautions just in case) and everything I’d done or seen had indicated that there was no risk, but all the same, I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Like all diviners, my first line of defence against any threat is manoeuvre, and being unable to withdraw from a position makes me uncomfortable. With hindsight, that might have been one of the reasons I’d never visited Morden until now.

But let’s be honest, a much bigger reason is the little fact that you were one of the people who got him sent here. Sure, he might not take it personally. But if it were me, I’m pretty sure I would.

My thoughts were cut off by the hiss of the inner door. I straightened and walked through.

For a cell in solitary confinement in a maximum security prison in a bubble realm floating in the void, Morden’s quarters weren’t bad. Okay, so there were no windows or phones or computers, and as far as I could see the only source of entertainment was a half-stocked bookcase, but the floor had a carpet and the bed looked fairly comfortable. I’d been half-expecting a dungeon with bars and chains, but apparently Morden’s rank still earned him a decent living space.

Morden was sitting behind a table, and he’d obviously been expecting me. The Dark mage looked a little thinner than when I’d seen him last, the angles of his face more defined. The attitude of confidence didn’t change though – as I entered, he nodded to me in a companionable way that gave no hint that he was a prisoner. I’d never been quite sure whether that ever-present confidence of Morden’s was fake, a performance to impress people, or whether he really was just that sure of himself.

‘Verus,’ Morden said. ‘I was wondering when you’d stop by. Why don’t you take a seat?’

I hid a smile. Even here, he was still acting as though he were in command. ‘Thank you.’ As I walked over, I noticed a gold chain hanging from the bookcase behind Morden. It was placed in such a way that anyone entering the room would see it.

Morden cocked his head at me. ‘Wondering when that will be yours?’

‘I know exactly when that will be mine,’ I said dryly. ‘When I’m an actual member of the Council instead of your representative, which seems unlikely ever to happen.’

‘Really?’

I looked back at Morden, eyebrows slightly raised. I didn’t see any need to disclose the details of Talisid’s offer. And I know why you have that thing hanging there too. It’s a reminder that until sentence is pronounced, you’re still a member of the Council, with all that implies. But right now you’re the one in the weaker position, not me.

‘So,’ Morden said. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’

‘Well,’ I said. ‘Odd as it may sound, I was wondering if you had any advice.’

‘Advice?’

‘I’ve been filling in for you in your position for more than half a year now,’ I said. ‘And honestly? I’m wondering how you lasted as long as you did. Not a week goes by where there isn’t some plot to kill me or unseat me. How did you manage to survive when so many of the Light mages hated you so much?’

‘Ah.’ Morden settled back in his chair more comfortably. ‘That’s really no great mystery. The fact is, the majority of the Council mages don’t hate me. Or you, for that matter.’

‘Could have fooled me.’

‘Oh, I’m not saying they wouldn’t happily unseat you,’ Morden said. ‘But they’d do that to anyone if they thought it was to their advantage. You’re right that they have some personal animosity, but it’s not you they have a problem with, it’s the disruption you represent.’ Morden steepled his fingers, looking rather like a professor explaining a point to a student. ‘The key to understanding the Council is to realise that the majority of its mages don’t believe in anything greater than themselves. They might pay lip service to the Council’s official purpose, but they don’t have any deep-seated loyalty. So while they might protest the presence of a Dark mage, it’s not out of any particular moral indignation. It’s simply because you’re pushing your way into their private club.’

‘Seems as though you got a little more hostility than would be explained by just that.’

‘Only because I was the first. If there’s one thing the Council can agree on, it’s that their power and privileges shouldn’t go to anyone else.’ Morden shrugged. ‘But that kind of resistance is temporary. Given a few years, it should fade.’

I noticed that he said should fade instead of would have faded. Apparently he wasn’t ready to put it in the past tense. ‘I don’t think the Guardians and the Crusaders are just temporary resistance.’

‘The Guardian ideology was always going to be the major stumbling block in Dark–Light integration.’

‘And Levistus?’ I said. I’d started this conversation as an icebreaker, but I was curious now. ‘You think that’s what’s driving him?’

‘Levistus is an interesting case,’ Morden said. ‘He’s the type of person who can only exist once a structure has grown old enough and influential enough that people genuinely cannot conceive of a world beyond it. It’s no surprise that he rose to the Council: his entire world is the Council. That’s not to say he’s stupid or parochial, but it would simply never occur to him that the centre of Britain could ever be anything other than the Light Council and the mages who control it. Most organisations end up run by people like him, once the creators and the zealots have died off.’

‘Hmm,’ I said. I looked at Morden speculatively. ‘If that’s what they believe in, what about you?’

Morden smiled. ‘Personal questions, now? I’m flattered by your interest. But in any case, I think that should explain how I was able to gain this position.’

‘To be honest, I’m a little surprised,’ I said. ‘I was expecting an answer that was more … tactical.’

‘You were expecting something to do with White Rose?’ Morden asked. ‘Oh, that made things easier, but all it really did was accelerate things. Do you think any amount of secrets could have enabled me to buy my way onto the Council if they’d really been determined to stop me? If they’d simply stood together and declared that they were not admitting a Dark mage, no matter what, then that would have been the end of it. But they were more concerned with their own individual self-interest.’

‘Hmm,’ I said. Something about what Morden was saying seemed backwards. I’m used to thinking of Dark mages as the self-interested ones. Could that have been the real reason that Morden had been able to succeed? Because the Council had reached the point where they weren’t different enough from their enemies? ‘So you’re saying the Council isn’t so averse to dealing with Dark mages after all.’

‘They never have been,’ Morden said. ‘It’s the disorganisation of the Dark mages that the Council dislike, not their ethics. They can’t negotiate with them as a group, because there’s no binding representative. Once I explained to them that by including me on the Council they would have that representative …’ Morden shrugged. ‘Well.’

‘Funny you should mention the subject of the Council negotiating.’

‘Yes, I rather suspected that might be why you were here.’ Morden rested his chin on his hands. ‘So what message does the Council have for me today?’

‘You know what the sentence is for your charge,’ I said, watching Morden carefully. His eyes didn’t flicker. ‘It probably won’t surprise you that a good number of the Council would be delighted to see you dead.’

‘But?’

‘But as you say, some of them do see that having a single Dark representative to negotiate with is more beneficial than having a corpse.’

Morden nodded. ‘I assume that this generosity does not come without a price.’

‘The problem from their point of view is that in everyone’s eyes you clearly committed the crimes you’re charged with,’ I said. ‘So they can’t exactly just pardon you.’

‘What did they have in mind instead?’

I’d been looking into the futures in which I broached the subject, probing for how Morden would respond. It wasn’t working. Divination isn’t much help against someone like Morden – he’s too self-controlled. ‘They want to use you to catch a bigger fish,’ I said, and stopped. We both knew there was only one ‘bigger fish’ that I could mean.

Morden nodded. ‘I see.’

‘You don’t seem very surprised.’

‘It was always one of the logical paths for them to take,’ Morden said. ‘I assume the quid pro quo is that I’m allowed to live?’

‘That’s the long and the short of it.’

‘Let me guess,’ Morden said. ‘Proceedings are to be halted?’

I nodded.

‘Have you thought through the implications?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Halting proceedings isn’t the same as finding you not guilty. A not guilty verdict ends the case. Halting proceedings just suspends it. Which means they can hold it over your head in the future. It’s a way of keeping you on a leash.’

‘You aren’t selling it very hard.’

I shrugged. ‘It’s nothing you couldn’t figure out yourself.’

‘There is a second implication you may not have considered,’ Morden said. ‘If I do indeed help the Council to catch this “bigger fish”, everyone will know about it, especially once I’m released without charges. Which will severely affect my credibility among Britain’s Dark mages. I’ll still be their representative, but they will no longer trust me, which will leave me with no one to turn to but the Council itself.’

I nodded. The Council wanted a Dark representative, but they wanted him defanged. ‘That seems accurate.’

‘So what would you advise?’

‘In your position?’ I said. ‘It doesn’t seem to me as though you have very much choice but to accept, given the alternative. It’ll cause problems, but you can solve problems. You can’t solve being dead.’

‘And what if I decide I might be willing to die for my cause?’ Morden asked. ‘What’s the Council’s plan then?’

I paused. Morden was looking at me, and there was no visible expression on his face. ‘Is that really true?’ I asked. ‘Do you want to become a martyr for this?’

Morden looked back at me for a long moment, then suddenly smiled. ‘No.’

I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding, then wondered, only then, why I’d been so scared. It’s not as though he can do anything. Is it? ‘So you’re going for the stay-alive option.’

‘I’m in no particular hurry to die,’ Morden said. ‘So, do the Council have any ideas on how I’m supposed to catch Drakh for them? Somehow I doubt they’re planning to let me out on bail.’

‘They aren’t terribly keen on that idea, no.’

‘Then what exactly am I supposed to be doing from inside here?’

‘They suggested that you could contact Richard.’

‘Hand-delivered via a Council agent, no doubt,’ Morden said dryly. ‘Are they really that stupid?’

‘Not quite,’ I said. Actually, that had been their first suggestion. I’d had to explain to them that Richard might be just a tiny bit suspicious of a message that the Council had finally ‘allowed’ Morden to send after nine months of solitary confinement. ‘Do you have any direct way of getting in touch with him?’

‘If I had, do you think I’d be here?’

‘A more realistic plan is working through an intermediary,’ I said. ‘Someone who’d follow your orders and is sufficiently close to Richard. I was wondering if you had any suggestions.’

‘Suggestions?’ Morden raised an eyebrow. ‘There’s really only one person who falls into both of those groups.’

I sighed. ‘I was afraid you’d say that.’

‘But you were hoping I might point you to someone else?’ Morden shook his head. ‘It’s Onyx or no one.’

I grimaced. It was what I’d been expecting to hear, but I still wasn’t happy about it.

We talked for a little while longer, discussing approaches. I was surprised by how easy it was. By the summer of last year, Morden and I had become … well, we hadn’t been even remotely close to friends, but we’d had an efficient working relationship. That had been based on my acceptance of his authority, so I hadn’t expected it to last, but oddly enough, it had. We just fell back into the old patterns, except this time with me taking the lead. And instead of arguing or trying to assert dominance, Morden went along with it.

‘I’m a little surprised with how you’re taking all of this,’ I said once we’d finished our arrangements.

‘How do you mean?’

‘Last year, you were on the Light Council and one of the most powerful Dark mages in Britain,’ I said. ‘Now you’re imprisoned and awaiting trial. I was expecting you to be a little more … resentful.’

‘Resentment is an unproductive emotion,’ Morden said. ‘Our relationship was built on realities of power.’

I gave Morden a sceptical look. ‘You really don’t hold a grudge?’

‘Not particularly.’

I met Morden’s eyes. He didn’t look angry, but I couldn’t help wonder what his true feelings were. Would I be so calm in his position? ‘Somehow I don’t think Onyx is going to be so accepting.’

‘Ah yes,’ Morden said. ‘I’ll admit that Onyx has not developed as I had hoped.’

‘You really thought he was ever going to go any other way?’

‘I have known him significantly longer than you,’ Morden said. ‘When I first took Onyx on, I judged him to have potential. Unfortunately power can be a discouragement to growth, and he’s had difficulty adapting. I’d rather hoped that his association with you might have inspired him to look beyond his current set of problem-solving tools, but he seems to have decided that he’s learned all he needs to know.’

‘Which is a nice way of saying that he deals with anything in his way by smashing it,’ I said sourly. ‘And this is the guy you want me to liaise with.’

‘The Council are hardly going to do you favours for free.’

I glanced up sharply. Morden was looking at me inquiringly. Does he know what Bahamus offered? Or was that just a guess? ‘Well.’ I rose to my feet. ‘I suppose I’ve got a job to do.’

‘You do indeed,’ Morden said with a nod. ‘Oh, and watch your back.’

‘Watch it for what?’

‘I’m sure that not everyone on the Council is happy with the thought of my trial being cancelled,’ Morden said. ‘Some of them might find it … convenient, shall we say, if any negotiations were disrupted? And if that disruption happened to negatively affect a certain Junior Council member whom they also had little love for, that would be a case of two birds with one stone.’ He smiled slightly. ‘As I said. Watch your back.’

I looked back at Morden, then left. I felt the Dark mage watching me go.