Risen

9

Outside was dark and still. A blurry moon shone down through the haze, the castle battlements looming up all around. From up ahead I could hear the slow creak . . . creak . . . creak of the windmill.

I walked around the castle walls, my feet soft on the grass. The windmill was a hulking shadow in the gloom, its sails turning slowly in the sea breeze. Far below, the sea crashed against the rocks.

There was a man leaning against the windmill, invisible in the darkness. ‘Ozols, isn’t it?’ I said.

‘Ah, Verus, yes?’ Ozols sounded pleased. ‘Yes, yes.’

‘Brought you some tea,’ I said, walking up and handing him the mug. ‘All quiet?’

‘Yes, yes,’ Ozols said in his thick accent. ‘Those demons, they watch. No move.’

‘Jinn, not demons,’ I said with a yawn. ‘But close enough. I’ll be in the windmill.’

‘Inside is warmer,’ Ozols said with a chuckle. ‘I call if they attack, yes?’

‘Thanks, Ozols.’

‘Is no problem. Thank you for tea!’

I walked past Ozols into the windmill. The inside was pitch-black, lit only by stray moonbeams. I climbed the stairs until I came to an open room on the upper level. Windows opened up on all four walls, giving views onto the castle and out to sea.

I sat down against the wall with a sigh. The after-effects of Ji-yeong’s healing were setting in and my limbs felt heavy and tired. My stomach was also telling me in no uncertain terms that I was hungry, and I knew the sensible thing would be to go back to Landis’s camp and get a hot meal and a nap on one of those camp-beds.

I rummaged in my bag for a protein bar instead. My stomach growled in protest.

I stared up at the sky as I chewed. From my angle, I couldn’t make out the moon, though its beams cast the opposite wall in blue-white light. A few stars were visible through the haze. The first time I’d come to this castle, Anne and I had spent the night in this windmill. She’d been afraid and vulnerable, but she hadn’t given up, staying awake and on the run for days. Only when I’d found her had she allowed herself to finally fall asleep. It had been right in this room, and I’d been against the wall . . . here?

No, it had been the other side. I got up, ignoring the angry complaints from my legs and back, and dropped down against the opposite wall. I shuffled over a little bit until, as far as I remembered, I was in the exact same spot. Once I did, I closed my eyes.

That was it. I’d been against this wall, just here, and Anne had been on my right. I’d had my arm around her, and that was how she’d fallen asleep, her head on my shoulder. I remembered how she’d looked, white skin pale in the moonlight, strands of black hair falling across her cheek down to my coat, the slow rise and fall of her chest. Had that been when I’d started to fall in love with her? Memories . . . waking in Arachne’s lair as Anne healed me, lying side by side with her on the grass of the heath, training together in Wales . . .

It had been here that I’d first met Anne’s shadow, too. Maybe that was where things had started to go wrong.

Anne’s shadow had been a danger for a long time. Not the kind that creeps up on you, but the kind that sits and waits and is just a tiny bit bigger every time you look. The more I’d learned, the more worried I’d become. I’d tried talking to her; I’d tried getting help; I’d even travelled into Elsewhere to face it. In the end, none of it had really made a difference. Arachne had told me in her letter not to blame myself, that Anne’s doom would have fallen with or without me. But I still felt as though it was my fault.

Maybe that was why I was here.

I kept my eyes closed. As long as I didn’t move, I could pretend that Anne was next to me, just for a little while.

I felt the change in the futures before I heard the footsteps. They climbed the stairs. I didn’t open my eyes.

Luna appeared in the doorway. ‘Hey.’

I held up a hand.

Luna put a plate down next to me, the plastic clacking against the stone. ‘I brought you something.’

I could smell the sausages from the kitchen. My stomach growled again. ‘Thanks.’

Luna sat back against the wall, and I sensed the silver mist of her curse spreading out. Luna keeps it under tight control when people are close, relaxes it once they’re at a safe distance. She does it automatically these days. ‘Landis is quizzing Ji-yeong about the castle.’

I nodded.

‘Still think we can trust her?’

‘Sagash taught Ji-yeong one way to live,’ I said. My stomach wanted me to eat, but I didn’t reach for the plate. ‘Now she’s realising that there are others. As to which one she’ll pick . . . I think she’s still figuring that out herself.’

‘Are you okay?’

‘Tomorrow’s going to be ugly,’ I said. ‘The Council’s going to launch an all-out attack. They’ll probably spend all night arguing about it, but in the end it’s not going to make a difference, because it’s the only choice they’ve got. Landis knows it, I could see it in his eyes. A lot of people are going to end up dead.’

‘Okay,’ Luna said, and paused. ‘That wasn’t really what I was asking.’

‘I know, I know. You just want to know about Vari.’

‘No!’

I looked up in surprise. Luna was frowning at me. ‘Alex, give me some credit, okay? Yes, I’m here because of Vari. But I know you’ll do everything you can for him. Right now, I’m more worried about you.’

‘You don’t need to worry about me.’

‘You think I haven’t noticed?’ Luna asked. ‘Those conversations with Karyos? The way you’ve been giving me access to all those bank accounts, “just in case”? You aren’t planning on coming back from this shadow realm. And you act different as well. You don’t tell jokes or make fun of me or even smile. You’re just . . . distant and focused.’

‘I’ve got a lot to be focused on.’

‘That doesn’t mean you’re supposed to act like a machine.’

‘What do you want from me, Luna?’ I snapped. I had too many things to worry about, and I didn’t need this now. ‘You just said that I’m going to do all I can for Vari. Well, you’re right, I am, and it’s going to be really frigging hard, because I’ve been counting up the numbers and I don’t like the answers I’m getting. If I’m right, then saving him means solving a problem I don’t know how to solve, on top of saving Anne, which means solving at least two more problems I don’t know how to solve, and that might not be even possible to solve, but I have to solve them, because if I don’t, there’s nobody else. So excuse me if being friendly and approachable isn’t high on my priority list!’

Luna was silent and I looked away, already regretting my words. I knew I shouldn’t have lost my temper, but I was strained to breaking point.

‘You remember when we went into that bubble realm in the British Museum?’ Luna asked. ‘When we were going after the fateweaver the first time?’

‘Yeah.’

‘We ran into Cinder and Deleo,’ Luna said. ‘They were caught in a trap and couldn’t get out. I thought we should just leave them. You didn’t. After they were gone, I asked you why you did it. You remember what you told me?’

‘If you can’t get another ally, next best thing is to give your enemy another enemy.’

Luna nodded. ‘But when I kept asking, you gave me another answer. You remember?’

‘Honestly, no.’

‘You said there was another reason.’ Luna was looking at me steadily. ‘You said whenever you kill someone, it gets a little bit easier to do it the next time. You said if you’re making the decision to do that, when you’re doing it deliberately, to be really sure you know what you’re doing. Because you’re going to have to live with it for ever.’

I hesitated. Had I told her that?

I couldn’t remember.

That bothered me.

‘It’s been a month since you took the fateweaver,’ Luna said. She hadn’t taken her eyes off me, and in the moonlight, I could make out her steady gaze. ‘How many people have you killed since then?’

I didn’t answer.

‘Alex?’

I spoke quietly. ‘I’ve lost count.’

The answer hung in the silence for a long moment before Luna started speaking again. ‘Back when I first met you, I wanted to be a badass. You know: tough and strong and good at fighting. Like you. Even when I started to get into your world and met Dark mages and Light mages who could throw me around like I was nothing, it didn’t put me off. It just pushed me to get better. It was why I got into duelling. I wanted to go up against mages and beat them. Even when I got hurt, it didn’t put me off, I’d just drive myself harder. I think . . . I think in some weird way, I felt like I was fighting my curse. If I could get strong enough, go far enough, then I could beat it. So I kept training and pushing myself.

‘Then there was what happened with White Rose. You remember that battle at the end, where Vari and I were with the Keeper strike team? I saw men killed right in front of me. And afterwards, watching them carry away the bodies . . . it made me realise something. The normals and the adepts killed in that battle, they trained too. They wanted to be tough too. And in the end it got them . . . nothing. They died for nothing.

‘I tried to forget about it, but for a long time after that, every time we heard about someone getting killed, I’d remember those bodies and I’d think: hey, that was someone who trained and practised and wanted to get stronger, just like me. And the more I thought about it, the more I realised . . . if you keep on fighting, if you keep trying to prove how tough you are, then that’s the only way things can end, isn’t it? And when you die, it’s not going to be some heroic last stand. It’ll be some pointless fight in a back alley, or a battle where neither side even knows what it’s for. Most fights aren’t about good and evil. I mean, even this one, right now. We’re here because of Anne, but Anne would never have ended up like this if Richard and the Council hadn’t been using her as a playing piece in their stupid chess game.

‘So when I was picking my mage name, I decided I didn’t want something that sounded cool and dangerous. I would have, once. Now, though . . . I’ve looked down that road, and I’ve seen where it ends. So I picked Vesta. The goddess of hearth and home and family. Maybe I’ll get to have those things someday, maybe I won’t. But even if I don’t, it’s worth a try.

‘So the way you’re acting now . . . it feels really wrong. Because you were the one who turned me away from all that. You taught me to look ahead, think about the future. But now it doesn’t feel like you care about the future. When you told me to take that lift, and I hesitated . . . it was because I was wondering if you were going to follow us down.’

‘I was always going to follow you down.’

Luna waited. I hadn’t answered her question and we both knew it.

‘But . . . there’s probably going to be a time very soon when I won’t.’

Silence fell. A sea breeze blew through the open windows. From far below, I could hear the rush of the waves against the rocks.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I haven’t been setting you a very good example lately, have I?’

‘I don’t need an example. I’m not an apprentice any more. I’m worried about you, Alex, don’t you understand that?’

‘I do,’ I said with a sigh. ‘And you’re right. It’s just . . .’ I trailed off, trying to figure out how to say it. It was an effort to find the words; this was a place in my mind I’d been shying away from. ‘After I got away from Richard, I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t be like him. I knew I wasn’t a good person, I was never going to be the hero. But I could be different from him. Running a shop . . . it’s good, for that. No one expects much from a shopkeeper. You buy and sell, maybe give a little advice now and then. It’s safe. But it can be lonely. So I started making friends. Arachne. Anne, Vari. You. And I came to realise over the years how much I cared about you all. I wouldn’t give you up, and I’d fight if I had to.’ I paused. ‘Those were the two things that mattered to me. Not being like Richard, cold and manipulative and evil. And protecting and being loyal to all of you. It was why I wouldn’t join with any of the factions. Didn’t want to compromise. So I stayed apart.’

‘Until?’ Luna asked quietly.

‘Until what happened with Anne,’ I said. It was hard to say all this, but I had to. I’d been keeping it bottled up too long. ‘Two pillars. Not being Richard, and my friends. I’d been walking a tightrope between them. Figured I could keep my balance. Hadn’t thought of what I’d do when the rope ran out. Anne being lost broke . . . everything. Couldn’t leave her or she’d die. Vari, too: he was never going to walk away. But couldn’t stop her, either. Not as the person I was.’ I paused. ‘Two pillars. Myself, all of you. Had to let one fall.’

‘And you chose the first,’ Luna said. ‘You stopped trying to be different from Richard.’

‘Funny thing?’ I said. ‘How easy it was. Just had to stop holding back.’ I turned to look at Luna. ‘You know all the times the Council screwed us over, or some Dark mage tried to kill us? Remember how after the dust settled we’d get together and talk? And you’d be furious, wanting to hit back, and I’d tell you to calm down and think?’

Luna nodded.

‘You ever wonder why I didn’t get angry?’

‘A few times.’

‘I did get angry,’ I said. ‘When Caldera acted like it was my fault for fighting back when she tried to arrest me. When Undaaris sold us out. When Levistus told me how he’d destroy us. When Bahamus voted for my sentencing. When Alma tried to remove me from the Council. When Talisid double-crossed me. When Onyx hurt me just because he could. When Vihaela boasted about torturing children. When those Council mages tortured Anne. Over and over. Every one of those things, they’d spark a tiny little white-hot drop of fury. But I couldn’t let it loose, because they had the power and I didn’t. So I’d force that little drop down below the surface, and it would stay there, burning away. And year after year, those drops kept building up.’ I took a deep breath and let it out. ‘So when I finally stopped holding back . . . let’s just say that fire had a lot of fuel.’

‘I did wonder,’ Luna said. ‘You were too calm about some of those things. But you don’t act angry now.’

‘Yeah, well, it turns out that when you store up that much anger for that long, then let it burn its way out, it’s not good for you,’ I said. ‘It’s hard for me to feel much of anything now. Too much pain, too much death. And I’m responsible for a lot of it.’

‘Then shouldn’t you be dealing with that?’

‘I can’t afford the distraction.’

‘You’re not cold enough to keep this up,’ Luna said. ‘Not long term.’

‘Luna,’ I said, trying to make my voice gentle, ‘there isn’t going to be a long term.’

Luna stiffened. ‘You—’

I spoke over her. ‘The fateweaver’s spreading. Eventually it’ll reach my heart. And once that happens, my emotional health isn’t going to matter very much.’

‘You could stop using it.’

‘It’s the only chance I’ve got of winning.’

‘But—’

‘The dragon told me this would happen,’ I said. ‘I’ve had time to accept it. And honestly, at this point, it might be for the best.’

Luna stared at me. Futures shifted; a hundred possible Lunas argued, protested, pleaded, shouted. One future eclipsed the others. Luna rose to her feet and left.

I listened to her footsteps descending the stairs, then rested my head back against the wall with a sigh. I hadn’t wanted to open up that far, but Luna and I had been through too much for me to brush her off. She deserved the truth.

I still didn’t feel happy about it.

With an effort, I put it out of my mind. The food Luna had brought me was nearly cold, and I ate without tasting, searching the futures as I did. Once I was done, I leant back and closed my eyes, willing myself to sleep. There was someone I needed to talk to, and tonight might be my last chance. As the world faded away, my last thought was to hope Luna would be feeling better by tomorrow.

The sky in Elsewhere was overcast. Brooding clouds stretched to the horizon, dark and ominous. Only a weak half-light made it through to the abandoned city below.

The conversation with Luna was still replaying itself in my head, calling up feelings as it did: tension, pain, worry, guilt. I forced the feelings away, centring myself. Breathe in, breathe out. The past was done; what mattered was the present. Once I was calm again, I set off, walking along a raised path above street level.

The sky stayed dark, the clouds thickening. I already knew from path-walking that Anne was asleep, though I hadn’t been able to find out much else – divination isn’t much use for looking into Elsewhere: it’s too fluid. Trying to track her down like this was dangerous, but I had to try.

Trees rose up in front of me as I drew closer to the border. Beyond was Anne’s kingdom . . . or world . . . or prison. I came to a stop at the edge of a plaza. Thirty feet ahead, the stones of the plaza broke up into clumps of grass that turned into a meadow that turned into a forest. Black storm-clouds roiled the sky.

I sent out a call. There was no sound, but my skills in Elsewhere were far advanced beyond what they’d once been, and I knew that Anne had heard me. I stood and waited.

Nothing. No shift.

She wasn’t coming.

I walked forward into Anne’s Elsewhere.

Instantly, the world changed. I could feel a presence in the air, charged and alive. The wind whipped up around me, hissing through the trees and rising to a roar. I’d crossed into something’s territory, and it had noticed me.

I changed direction, moving next to one of the trees. It was a huge oak, hundreds of years old, great branches rising up into the sky. I leant against it and let the essence of the tree flow into me, feeling the earth, the water, the leaves. Anne’s Elsewhere is its own world, sculpted over many years. It’s not my world, but I loved Anne, and this place was made in her image. I knew it because I knew her.

The colour of the tree’s bark spread to cover my body, its leaves hiding my hair. My feet ran down into the earth. I took my essence, the core of myself, and muted it, smoothing it out below the surface of the forest around me.

The storm hit seconds later. A roaring gale lashed the trees, rain hissing through the leaves. Through the canopy above, I had a vague image of a monstrous shape, legs like mountains, its head hidden in the clouds. I felt its attention turn towards me, massive and terrible. It brushed across the forest like fingers sweeping a carpet, huge yet strangely delicate. With a crash, a branch broke above my head, smashed down into the earth nearby, the sound almost drowned by the scream of the wind . . .

The presence passed over without finding me. It groped away to the north, fading, and was gone.

I stayed quite still for maybe a minute, neither moving nor breathing. The rain above died away to a drizzle and stopped, and the wind fell off until it was only a breeze.

I pulled my consciousness together again and stepped away from the tree. The broken branch was lying nearby, jagged and wet from the rain. I put my hand on the tree trunk in silent thanks and set off through the forest. Far away to the north, the storm raged.

I slipped through the trees quickly and quietly. When the wall of black glass loomed up in front of me, I jumped it in a single bound. I came down in an open courtyard, the only feature the black tower rising up ahead.

The sounds of the storm felt muted here. The wind blew less strongly and the hostile presence was weaker. I could still sense it, but there was something between, a kind of shield. The thing could still find me, but it would take time.

I crossed the courtyard and entered the tower, absent-mindedly creating a doorway that closed behind me. The inside was made of the same reflective black glass, soft lights glowing at intervals from the walls. I climbed a spiral staircase and opened a door.

The room within was the one that I’d come to think of as Dark Anne’s drawing room. A long dining table of dark wood occupied the centre, with a sofa off to one side. The room was barer than I remembered: the chairs by the sofa were gone, as were most of the ones at the table. The sofa was green, as were the glass bowls on the table, contrasting sharply with the black walls and ceiling. Open arch windows at the far end looked out onto a spectacular view.

Dark Anne was leaning on the table with her head propped up in one hand. Her dress was the vivid red one that she’d worn to our first meeting, but it was rumpled, as though she’d been sleeping in it. With her free hand, she was playing with a long knife. Her eyes flicked up as I walked in.

‘You could at least answer when I call,’ I said.

Anne flipped the knife into the air, catching it by the blade.

I crossed the room and walked past her. There was one other chair, placed opposite from Anne, but I didn’t sit down. Anne’s eyes tracked me as I moved.

The view from the windows was just as amazing as I remembered, the forest beyond the walls stretching away into a fantastic landscape of tower-sized trees, mirrored lakes and distant mountains . . . but there was a difference. The first time that I’d been here, most of the world had been bathed in sunlight, while the tower and the walls around it had received only the murky light of an overcast day. Now the contrast was the other way round. The tower was still overcast, but the world outside was covered in black storm-clouds. Lightning flickered around the mountains, and the towering trees swayed in what had to be gale-force winds.

Dark Anne’s prison hadn’t changed. Everywhere else had.

‘I’ve got to say,’ I said, ‘I don’t really like what you’ve done with the place.’

She shot me a look.

‘Your jinn tried to catch me on the way in,’ I said conversationally. ‘You know, when you only see them in the outside world, it’s easy to forget how powerful they are. Having to act through a possessed human really limits them. Here, though . . . they’re like a sea monster in the ocean.’

No answer. I turned, leaning my elbows on the window-sill. Dark Anne was spinning the knife between her fingers, watching me out of the corner of her eye. ‘Just as well, I suppose,’ I said. ‘It’s so powerful it’s hard for it to find me. Like a giant hunting a mouse.’

Dark Anne finally spoke. ‘Are you going to talk all day?’

‘You’re trapped here, aren’t you?’

‘Right, because I’ve got nothing better to do than come running when you call. Get over yourself.’

I shrugged. ‘You’re not a prisoner?’ I pointed out through the window. ‘Then step past those walls and back again.’

Dark Anne scowled.

‘I can even tell you when it happened,’ I said. ‘It was last night. You were thinking about paying your family a visit, weren’t you? I mean, you’ve dealt with everyone else. So after you took down Sagash, you figured it was time to go settle some old scores. Only the jinn didn’t want that, did it? It was happy to feed you all the power you needed as long as you were using it to fight Sagash. But once it had his shadow realm, well, it wasn’t going to put all that at risk just because you had a grudge against your two pain-in-the-arse cousins. Of course, you weren’t going to take no for an answer, so you forced the issue. After all, you’ve done that lots of times, and the jinn’s always backed down, right? Except that was when you discovered that all the times it did that, it wasn’t because it was weaker. It was because it was biding its time. And now that it’s stronger than you, it doesn’t need you any more. Which is why you’re slumped over your dinner table, feeling sorry for yourself.’

‘Oh, screw you!’ Anne snapped. ‘Like you’ve done anything to help!’

‘I haven’t helped?’ I said, and suddenly my voice was harsh. ‘How about all the times I told you this was going to happen using these exact fucking words? I told you the jinn wasn’t your friend, I told you it was stronger than you, I told you only a complete moron would let a marid into her head and expect to be the one running the show. And you just rolled your eyes and sniggered. Well, you going to laugh at me now? How about it, Anne? Still think it’s funny?’

Anne glowered at me but didn’t speak. ‘Four weeks,’ I said. ‘Four weeks! That’s how long it took you to end up here. You know what’s really ironic? When I first met you, you were a prisoner in this tower. You finally get your freedom, and it takes you less than one month to end up stuck right back inside the same prison you were trying to get away from!’

‘I’ve noticed, okay?’ Anne snapped. ‘Is that all you came for? To say “I told you so”?’

‘The only reason? No. But now I’m here I’m going to do it, because I am really pissed off. I expect this shit from the Council. They don’t trust me and they don’t know whose side I’m on. But you knew damn well I was giving you that warning because I loved you. I’m one of the foremost experts in the British Isles when it comes to possession and imbued items, I know a fair amount about jinn, and I can see the future. I am one of the best people in the entire country to give advice on not getting possessed. And your response was to do literally the exact opposite of what I told you!’

Anne stared at me, then suddenly broke into a grin. ‘Aww, you still love me? That’s cute.’

I threw up my hands. ‘Damn it!’

‘All right, all right, cool it.’ Anne leant back in her chair, but her back was straighter and she seemed more alive all of a sudden. ‘Fine, I might have made a few mistakes. No need to make a big deal over it.’

I drew in a breath to explode, then stopped myself. I was fairly sure she was just baiting me at this point.

‘So,’ Anne said. ‘You going to help?’

‘I’ve wanted that jinn out of your head from the beginning. Why the hell else do you think I’m here?’

‘Works for me.’ Anne jumped to her feet. ‘Let’s do it.’

‘Do what?’

Anne nodded towards the window.

‘Wait,’ I said. ‘Your plan is . . . what? Fight it?’

‘Yep.’

I stared. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Uh, yeah?’

‘Anne, you just went up against this thing last night,’ I said. ‘It kicked your arse. And if I had to bet, it probably wasn’t even trying.’

Dark Anne scowled. Something I’d learned about Anne’s shadow – she really hated looking weak. ‘It caught me by surprise, okay? I figure we can manage with the two of us. Are we doing this or what?’

I looked at Anne for a second. Then I pulled out the spare chair, sat down and covered my face with both hands. ‘Oh my God, you’re an idiot.’

‘Hey,’ Dark Anne said. ‘I gave that thing a hell of a fight. Yeah, it pushed me back here, but it didn’t have an easy time of it.’

I took a deep breath, took my hands away. ‘Anne. The reason it had trouble pushing you back is because it had to work really, really hard to do it without killing you.’

‘No, it didn’t.’

‘You saw that thing.’ I pointed towards the north wall. ‘You seriously think you are going to beat that in a contest of strength?’

‘She did it.’ Dark Anne never uses her other half’s name. ‘And I’m stronger than she is.’

‘Okay, number one,’ I said. ‘She fought back instantly. Possessing entities gain power the more you rely on them, and she didn’t. As soon as I woke her up, she went for the jinn all-out, with everything she had. No compromise, no hesitation. You’ve been letting the jinn act through you for weeks. You lost your chance a long time ago.’ Anne started to speak and I held up two fingers. ‘Number two. One of the last pieces of advice that Arachne gave me was that if I went into your Elsewhere and tried that same trick again, it wouldn’t work. The jinn will swat me like a mosquito.’

Dark Anne put her hands on her hips. ‘You got a better plan?’

‘As a matter of fact, yes.’

‘What is it?’

I just looked at her.

‘I’m not hearing anything.’

‘I’ve told you enough times.’

‘Told . . . ?’ Anne trailed off and her face darkened. ‘Oh no.’

‘You knew this was coming.’

‘No.’

‘There is exactly one way you’re going to have a chance against that jinn,’ I said. ‘And that’s to stop flying with one wing.’

‘No.’

‘Even your other half wouldn’t be able to do it on her own any more.’

Dark Anne’s face was set. ‘No.’

‘Come on, Anne!’ I rose to my feet, started pacing. ‘What’s your endgame here? Even if we could get rid of the jinn with just the two of us – which we can’t – you seriously think you and your other self can keep on living with some supercharged magical version of multiple personality disorder?’

‘Worked so far.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘It hasn’t. The whole damn reason the jinn could possess you in the first place was by wedging itself into the crack between the two of you. You were going to fall apart anyway, Dr Shirland was pretty clear about that. The jinn just sped things up.’

‘So you want me to do what, kiss and make up? Screw that.’

‘Listen—’

‘No, you listen.’ Dark Anne pointed across the table at me. ‘That bitch kept me locked up for years. Shut away from light and feeling and . . . everything! She got everything! The only reason you’re even here is because of her. You don’t care about me.’

‘Anne—’

‘Screw you. I’m not giving her anything.’

‘You can’t manage on your own! Neither of you can! She can’t handle violence or confrontation and deals with problems by pretending they don’t exist. And you’re a violent criminal with the impulse control of a rabid wombat.’

‘Yeah, well, I’d rather be me than her.’

‘You’re going to end up dead, enslaved, or worse.’

Dark Anne shrugged.

I threw up my hands. ‘What does it take to get through to you?’

‘You think you’re so clever, you figure out some way to fix things,’ Dark Anne said. ‘Something that doesn’t involve her.’

‘There isn’t one!’

‘Well, then I guess you’re out of luck.’

I stared at her. ‘You really are this short-sighted, aren’t you? If you were on a plane that needed two people to fly it, you’d let it crash rather than work together.’

‘Sounds good to me.’

Frustration boiled up inside me. How could anyone be so stupid as to . . . ?

. . . except I already knew the answer, didn’t I? I’d said it myself. Because she was violent and short-sighted with no impulse control. Trying to reason with Dark Anne was like arguing with a hungry tiger. There was a damn good reason the other Anne had kept her locked up.

I wasn’t going to solve this by talking.

Light Anne had to be in this tower. If I could find her . . .

‘You try and break her out,’ Dark Anne said, ‘and I’ll fight you with everything I’ve got.’

That’s the trouble with being close to someone. They can read you too. ‘It’s the only way you’re getting out of this.’

‘Bullshit.’ Dark Anne’s face was set. ‘You just want your girlfriend back.’

We stared at each other across the table. I knew she wasn’t bluffing. I’m far more skilled than Anne in Elsewhere, but this was her Elsewhere and she was on home ground. If it came to a fight then I might be able to get past her, force my way down to the basement, where Light Anne was trapped . . .

. . . but there was no way I could do it without drawing the attention of the jinn. It’d come down on us both like a hurricane.

‘Fine,’ I said, and straightened. ‘You win. You get to stay here, just the way you are. Enjoy it.’

Dark Anne shrugged.

‘You remember the first time we met?’ I said. ‘You told me that if there was one thing the two of you agreed on, it was that you weren’t going to be a slave again. You told me you wanted to be the one in charge, the one who made the decisions. You told me you wanted to be queen.’ I gestured to the room around us. ‘How’s that working out for you?’

Anne said nothing, and I turned and left. I could feel the jinn’s presence, drawing closer. It wouldn’t take it much longer to find me.

I opened a door in one of the black-glass walls and stepped out of Anne’s Elsewhere, back into my own dreams.