Veiled

Chapter 11

I never sleep well the night before a battle. In this case I hadn’t even known for sure if it was going to be a battle, which actually made things worse, since I’d stayed awake for hours trying to plan for all the possible scenarios. I fell asleep late, got up early, and by midmorning I’d finished my preparations, meaning that I spent the hours around noon with nothing very productive to do. I ended up rechecking things I’d checked already, talking to Luna, and trying not to wear myself down. It was a relief when the call finally came.

“We need you down at the station,” Haken said as soon as I picked up. “Briefing’s in forty-five minutes.”

“I’ll be there,” I told him, then put the phone down and looked at Luna. “We’re on.”

“It could be—”

“It’s not.”

“Yeah.” Luna sighed. “Wish I could come.”

“You know that’s not an option. Besides—”

“I know, I know. I’ll be ready.”

“Well, you never know,” I said as I got to my feet. “Maybe when you pass your journeyman tests you’ll end up joining the Keepers.”

Luna raised her eyebrows. “Yeah, right.”

“You’re the one who gave me the push into joining them.”

“I didn’t think it was going to turn out like this.”

“I think I would have been drawn into this one way or another.” I glanced at Luna. “You going to be okay on your end?”

“It’s not like we’ve got much to do, is it?” Luna said. “What if we don’t get the call?”

“Then it means everything’s been resolved in a nice peaceful compromise and all the participants have gone away happy.”

Luna gave me a sceptical look. “Do you think that’s going to happen?”

I slung my bag over my shoulder. “No.”

“I don’t like sitting around when you’re going out like this.”

“Don’t worry,” I said as I headed for the door. “I think you’ll be getting your share of excitement.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Luna sighed again. “Good luck.”

I arrived at Keeper HQ, went through security, and was directed upstairs. The building was busy, people bustling around and running errands. As I climbed the stairs I tried to feel if there was something different, some note of anxiety or tension in the air, but I couldn’t sense it. The Keepers are a big organisation, and at office level it was business as usual.

I found the briefing room on the second floor, checked to see who was inside, and rolled my eyes. I was tempted to wait out in the corridor, but given the collection of magic types, it was a safe bet that someone was already tracking my movements. I took a breath and opened the door. The room was windowless and decorated in the same ugly cheap-looking fashion as the rest of Keeper HQ, with chairs, small tables, and a whiteboard, along with a battered-looking projection focus sitting on a stand. There were seven people in the room, and all of them turned to look at me as I walked in.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” one of the men said. It was Slate, my old friend from Red’s. “What’s he doing here?”

“Love you too, Slate.” I walked in and dropped into a chair next to Haken.

“No,” Slate said, addressing the room. “No way. We’re not taking him.”

“Slate,” Haken said wearily. “Not now, all right?”

Slate shut up, but the look on his face made it clear that this wasn’t over. “This is Mage Verus,” Haken said to the others.

“We know who he is,” one of the other men said.

“Good,” Haken said. “Then you know why he’s here.”

A woman on the other side of the room was looking me up and down. “You’re the one saying you fought a mantis golem?”

“Yes.”

“How come you’re still alive?”

“It wasn’t just a mantis golem,” I said. “And it wasn’t just me.”

“Aren’t you a diviner?” the woman said, and laughed. “What was it really, a crawler?”

“Tell you what,” I said. “How about you go find the cleanup team who spent Saturday night scraping mantis golem off the floor in Uxbridge? Tell them it was a crawler and see what they say.”

“Hey!” Haken said. He looked between me, Slate, the woman, and everyone else, glaring at all of us. “You all finished?”

I shut up. Slate and the woman didn’t exactly look submissive but they didn’t open their mouths either. “You have a problem with each other, deal with it on your own time,” Haken said. “We’ve got a job to do.”

No one argued. Haken started doing introductions. I paid attention.

Haken I knew, obviously, and it became clear as he went from person to person that he was the highest-ranking mage in the room . . . although maybe not by much. Slate I also knew, unfortunately, and the man who’d spoken up earlier was one I’d seen in Red’s but hadn’t put a name to, big and tough-looking, mixed race with dark brown skin. From his body language and seating position I had the feeling he was on Slate’s side. Haken introduced him as Trask.

The woman who’d been poking at me was called Lizbeth—I didn’t know why she wasn’t using a mage name, and I didn’t ask. She was in her late twenties, with blond hair in a bob cut and a glint in her eye that suggested she wasn’t done messing with me either. The other woman in the room was also the only other person besides me who wasn’t a Keeper. She was tall with long brown hair, well-dressed and good-looking in an understated way. Her name was Abeyance, and she was apparently a Keeper auxiliary and timesight specialist. She greeted me with professional reserve.

The last two men were also Keepers, but ones I hadn’t met before. One was fair-skinned and nondescript-looking, the other fat and Hispanic, and when Haken told me their names—Cerulean and Coatl—I was none the wiser. It wasn’t really a surprise; there aren’t all that many Keepers in Britain, but they keep to themselves and if you don’t move in their circles you usually only see one when something’s gone wrong. Slate had gone back to interrogating Abeyance about something or other, and Lizbeth was about to open her mouth again, when the door opened and the last man came in.

Keeper Rain was the captain of Caldera’s section. He was tall and slender, with very dark skin and hair cut so short that his head was nearly bare. I’d never spoken to Rain, though Caldera seemed to respect him. He wasn’t dressed in any way that particularly stood out—just a neat-looking business suit—but everyone turned to look as he stepped inside, and all conversation in the room cut off. “Good afternoon, people,” Rain said as he walked to the front of the room. He had a deep voice and a measured, deliberate way of speaking. “We’ve got a lot to cover and not much time, so I’ll get straight to it. The Council has authorised the interrogation of Mage Vihaela, the second-in-command of White Rose. You”—his eyes swept the group—“are going to bring her in for questioning.”

There was no audible reaction. I looked around to see that no one seemed particularly shocked. Obviously they’d seen it coming. “What’s the charge?” Slate asked Rain. He seemed to have forgotten about me.

“Suspicion of involvement in the Rayfield case,” Rain said. “Which as of today is being treated as a murder.”

“So we’re arresting her?”

“No,” Rain said. “The Council has decided not to issue a formal indictment.”

A murmur went up at that. “So what are we bringing her in for?” Lizbeth said. “Littering?”

“The Council believes that an indictment would risk escalating the conflict.” Rain didn’t show anything on his face, but somehow I got the impression he wasn’t happy. “Vihaela will be brought in, but she will not be formally charged.”

“Oh, this is bullshit,” Slate said.

“What, we’re supposed to say pretty please?” Lizbeth said. “What happens when she tells us to go fuck ourselves?”

“You may not have a formal indictment,” Rain said, “but you are acting under direct Council orders. That means if you encounter any resistance, you’ll be free to use necessary force.”

Both Slate and Lizbeth perked up at that. Rain noticed. “I said necessary force.” Rain didn’t raise his voice, but his gaze rested on the two of them. “You are not pulling in some two-bit adept, and you are going to have eyes on you for this one. You pull some cowboy shit, I will hang you out to dry. Understand?”

Slate and Lizbeth had stopped smiling. “Yeah,” Slate said.

“Lizbeth?”

“I got it,” Lizbeth said.

“The six of you,” Rain nodded to the Keepers, “will be the field team for this operation. You will have two auxiliaries attached to you for the duration, mages Abeyance and Verus. Abeyance is a time mage and Verus is a diviner. They’ll provide information support on the ground. Haken has field command. Slate, you’re his second. The seven of you report to Haken, and Haken reports to me.” He glanced around. “Any questions?”

“Uh, yeah.” One of the other Keepers, Coatl, raised his hand. “So if I need to be excused to take a shit, should I be going to Slate, or do I ask Haken? You know, if it’s an emergency.”

“Hey,” Lizbeth said. “If you’re taking a shit, it’s always an emergency.”

“Love you too, Liz.”

“Are you hearing this?” Slate demanded to Rain. “Why’s this clown on the detail?”

“Kiss my arse,” Coatl told Slate. “If the Council really gave a fuck, we’d have an indictment already.”

“How about you—” Haken began, then stopped as Rain raised a hand. Rain looked at Coatl. “You have something to say?” Rain asked. “Say it.”

“Council can’t make up their mind what they want,” Coatl said. “Everyone’s got their own piece.” He shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, well, maybe they do,” Rain said. “But we’ve got a missing apprentice and a missing witness, and that’s not going away. So if we’re going to do this thing, we’re going to do it right.” He looked around. “Does anyone have a problem with that? Because if you do, there’s the door.”

Coatl and Cerulean looked away. Lizbeth and Slate looked back at Rain with neutral expressions. Abeyance stayed quiet.

“All right,” Rain said at last. “I take it from your silence you’re ready to do some work.” He fitted something into the projector, then glanced over at the light switch. It moved with a click and the room was plunged into darkness for a moment before the projection focus activated and a life-sized figure materialised in front of us, shedding a glow over the group.

Like most projection images, the figure outlined before us was brighter and clearer than an ordinary image would be, more real than real. The shape was that of a woman, outlined in blue light, perfectly detailed but frozen and still. She was tall and slim, with a long neck, a willowy build, skin so dark it was nearly black, and short wavy hair that curved outwards to frame her face. She wore a black-and-beige dress, cut long.

“Take a good look,” Rain said. Standing behind the image, the reflected light cast him in deep blue. “This is your target, Mage Vihaela. Age thirty-five, apprenticed under Ylath. Became his apprentice at age sixteen, made Chosen one year later. After Ylath’s death, she moved out on her own. Drifted between various cabals, picked up a few records but nothing serious. Even then she was building a reputation for herself. Joined White Rose four years ago, recruited personally by Marannis. Within a year she was in charge of their internal affairs, and after two she was the second-in-command of the entire organisation. Our sources say that she’s now director in all but name.”

“Type?” Trask said.

“Death-life hybrid, heavier on the death side. Specialises in incapacitation and inflicting pain. One bit of good news is that we’ve got no indication that she can bypass shields. Bad news is that she definitely has ranged capability. How she can handle herself in a fight is not well known. She’s never been brought in and there are no reliable accounts from people who’ve gone up against her. For that reason and for several others, I do not want you to engage her in combat if there is any possible alternative.”

“Anything on associates?” Haken said.

“No apprentices, no cabal mates. It’s believed she does most of her work personally.”

I studied Vihaela’s image. The recorder had caught her with her arms folded, large dark eyes looking out into space. Her expression made it seem as though she were studying someone. She didn’t look obviously intimidating, but there was something in her face that triggered warning bells. I had the feeling I didn’t want to get into a fight with her.

“Everyone familiar with her face?” Rain said. “Good. Because I want her brought in by tonight.”

I felt Haken start a little at that. “Tonight?” For the first time, Slate looked taken aback. “Seriously?”

“That’s not enough time,” Lizbeth said.

“That’s the time you have.”

“Captain,” Haken said, “we need to set more groundwork in place before doing something like this. We should be putting in surveillance, figuring out associates . . .”

“That’s why you’ve been assigned a time mage and a diviner. They should be able to give you all the information you need.”

“You know how White Rose are going to take this. We march in there without preparation—”

“You’re not arresting her.”

“They’re not going to care!”

“Believe me, I am aware,” Rain said. “But these orders come straight from the top. The Council wants immediate action.” Rain paused. “For what it’s worth, I told the representative almost exactly what you just told me. It did not sway his opinions on the matter. As far as the Council is concerned, the subject is closed.” Rain looked around. “Any other questions?”

“What if she just does a cut and run?” Slate said.

“Yeah,” Lizbeth said. “There’s no way we can get an interdictor up.”

“If she runs, she runs,” Rain said. “You search the premises and bring back what you can get. But White Rose is pretty entrenched. If I were you, I’d be ready for something else.”

Lizbeth muttered something under her breath. “We at least have somewhere to look?” Slate said.

Rain touched the focus: the image of Vihaela disappeared, to be replaced by a map of London, projected on the whiteboard. Three red dots shone from points on the map: two in the inner city, one a little farther out to the west. “White Rose runs houses at these three locations,” Rain said. “Best guess is that none of them are going to have anything too illegal on the premises. However, from what we’ve been able to gather, all three houses have a transport focus, probably a freestanding gate. The gates all link back to White Rose’s primary base of operations.”

“So where’s that?” Slate said.

“They move it,” Rain said. “Last known location was a warehouse in Manchester, but it’s been abandoned. Rumour is they went out to some new location in the country. Wherever it is, that’s where their holding and training facilities are. Vihaela will be there.”

The Keepers started talking and the subject of the briefing switched to personnel and resources. Slate wanted more; Rain was telling him no. I listened with half an ear, studying the other mages in the room out of the corner of my eye. Slate, Trask, and Lizbeth seemed to have forgotten about me, at least for now. They were the most involved, and despite their complaints, the most committed. Abeyance was staying out of it, her stance indicating that this was Keeper business. Coatl was sprawled back on his chair, cleaning his ear with his little finger. Cerulean hadn’t said a word. Haken was the one I was most curious about: he was silent, occasionally chipping in to the argument but mostly listening. He didn’t look happy, and I had the feeling that it was because of the time limit.

“All right,” Rain said at last. “You’ve got your tasks; let’s get to it. Haken, I want to be kept in the loop on this. Hourly reports and you don’t deviate from the brief without clearing it with me.”

Haken nodded. Rain took the rod from the projector and walked outside.

“Can you believe this?” Lizbeth said as soon as the door shut. “This is such bullshit . . .”

Haken was staring at the door. “Everything okay?” I asked quietly.

Haken got to his feet. “I’m going to have to make some calls. I’ll meet you downstairs.” He headed out. Glancing over, I saw that the other Keepers were still arguing. I got up and made an unobtrusive exit.

I left the room to see Haken turning the corner. Scanning the futures, I saw him slip through a door and . . . damn. It had locked behind him. I could have easily picked the lock, but not in a building full of Keepers. What was Haken up to?

I felt a familiar presence behind me and turned to see Caldera. She was at the door leading to the stairwell, and she was arguing with Rain. With an annoyed glance back to where Haken had vanished, I headed towards them.

“. . . not an option,” Rain was saying as I came into earshot.

“I’m fine,” Caldera said. “The doctor said I was in good shape.”

“I’ve got Dr. Cazriel’s report on my desk,” Rain said. “He prescribed a minimum of forty-eight hours before you’d be ready for light duty. Four days before any combat ops.”

“That’s bullshit. I can still—”

“The answer is no,” Rain said. “I am not going on record as sending you on a combat mission against direct medical instruction.”

“You need all the help you can get.”

“There are six Keepers on this already. We’ve got enough hitting power.”

“It’s my case,” Caldera argued. “I’ve got the background—”

“And your reports have been filed. You’re already the Keeper of record for the Pudding Mill Lane investigation. You’ll get the credit.”

“Fuck the credit! I want to be there.”

Rain gave her a steady look. “Go home, Caldera.” He glanced at me, then turned and headed through the door.

Caldera glared after him, looked like she was about to start swearing, then looked at me and visibly ground her teeth. “Bad day?” I said.

“No shit.” Caldera took a deep breath. “You’re going?”

I nodded. “I don’t know most of the team. Anything you can tell me?”

Caldera moved to one side, out of the way of a pair of men walking past. “Who’ve you got?”

“Haken, Slate, Trask, Lizbeth. Two others called Cerulean and Coatl. And a time mage auxiliary called Abeyance.”

“Yeah, I’ve worked with Abeyance,” Caldera said. “She knows what she’s doing. Slate you know. He’s an arsehole, but at least he’s not bent. Lizbeth’s a bitch, don’t turn your back on her.”

“The others?”

“Trask is Slate’s partner: he’s smarter than Slate and he’ll back him up. Coatl’s a long-timer. Not as dumb as he looks. Cerulean I don’t know, he’s a transfer from Order of the Cloak. And Haken’s Haken.”

“Cool. Who are they working for?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m guessing that at least half the team are in the pay of or onside with someone who’s not the Keepers.” I didn’t lower my voice, but I’d already checked around us to make sure that no one else was within earshot. “Do you know who’s with who?”

Caldera looked away.

“I’m just saying it’d help.”

“They work for the Keepers.” There was a definite warning note in Caldera’s voice.

“Officially.”

“Verus.” Caldera gave me a look. “This doesn’t help. Okay?”

“I’m not sure if you quite understand the difference in our respective positions.” I kept my voice calm and didn’t look away. “You’re a Keeper and a Light mage. I’m not. So given that I’m about to go off on a mission with a group of people whose collective objectives might include disposing of me, then yes, I’d say that knowing exactly who they’re working for would very much help.”

We stared at each other for a couple of seconds. Two more people passed by, skirting around us to head through the door and down the stairs. Caldera was the first one to look away, but she still didn’t answer.

“Okay,” I said. “How about a compromise? I’ll head off to work and do my job. You stay on standby. If things don’t go to plan and some of these guys turn out not to be so friendly, you can back me up.”

“I’m not cleared for active duty.”

“Thought you just said you were fine.”

Caldera gave me a narrow look. “You’re trying to get me to pull this too?”

Voices sounded from the corridor behind us. I looked back to see the Keepers coming out of the room: Haken and Lizbeth, Slate and Trask, Cerulean and Coatl, Abeyance on her own at the back. “Think it over,” I said. “Talk to you later.”

The other Keepers caught us up. I let them pass before falling in behind, leaving Caldera up on the landing as I followed the group down the stairs.

We geared up, moved out, and began gathering information. Hours passed, and afternoon became evening.

Sunset found me in Bank, right in the heart of the City. If you’re not connected to the London finance industry, then Bank is one of those districts that you pass through without stopping in, a strange place of towering walls and narrow streets, where buildings a hundred years old house newly furnished offices. There’s not much to see from the outside, just dingy stone frontings with faded nameplates. Tucked away around the corners are the sort of pubs where you pay for a drink and a burger with a twenty-pound note, filled with men in suits talking office politics and going outside to smoke. Around one of those corners was a plain black van.

I sat inside the van, eyes closed, and I path-walked. Every future began the same way, with me getting up, opening the rear doors, and heading left. From there they diverged. My future selves were meant to turn left, go right down the alley, and make their way into an unmarked door on an unmarked building about halfway down. It had been easier earlier in the afternoon, when everyone was still at work. Now the skies were going a dusky grey and the streets were filling up with bankers and stockbrokers and all the people who worked for them. The people on the streets kept disrupting my path-walking, breaking the delicate chain and forcing me to retrace my steps and start again.

I’d just made it into the building when the future thread splintered and broke for the umpteenth time. I went back, sent my future self out the doors again, saw him stop. Conversation; someone I knew. I looked to see who it was, then opened my eyes, coming out of my trance.

The van doors opened, letting in grey twilight and car exhaust. Abeyance ducked her head and stepped inside. I reached over to pull the door shut behind her.

“Hey, baby!” Coatl said with a grin. He and I were the only ones in the van’s rear compartment: the security men were in the front cabin. “How’s the view out there?”

“Dull,” Abeyance said. She glanced around. “Where’s Haken?”

“Vanished again,” I said. I’d tried to shadow Haken with my divination, but he was being careful and I’d lost him in the crowds. “Did you see Vihaela?”

Abeyance frowned. “He should be here for this.”

I didn’t answer. “No sign of her,” Abeyance said. “Any movement on your end?”

“Pretty sure they didn’t spot you.” In her dark blue business jacket and skirt, Abeyance fitted into the area perfectly. Like most passive senses, timesight doesn’t show up to magical detection.

Coatl laughed. “You think she doesn’t know we’re coming?”

Abeyance turned to him. The two of them made a strange pair: Coatl, fat, bearded, and balding, sprawled out over two seats, and Abeyance, slim and straight-backed and slightly prim, looking at Coatl with her mouth turned down in disapproval. Briefly I wondered how they saw me. Maybe to them, I seemed even weirder.

“Is there something you’re not telling us?” Abeyance said.

“You know what they say,” Coatl said. “Two people can keep a secret if one’s dead.” He grinned. “The Council knows, the eight of us know, the ones who briefed Rain know. Just a matter of time.”

“Presumably that’s why Rain’s ordered us to do it by tonight,” Abeyance said.

“What makes you think it’s not one of us?”

Abeyance sighed. “This is pointless.” She glanced at me. “If I stay here and don’t talk or move, can you find out when Haken’s going to be back?”

I nodded. Abeyance was as good as her word and to my surprise, Coatl didn’t do anything to disrupt the path-walk either. After a few seconds I looked up. “He should be here in five minutes.”

Five minutes and twenty seconds later, the door swung open and Haken stuck his head in, looking at Abeyance. “What’s the score?”

“No sign of Vihaela,” Abeyance said. “At least, not from the front. Plenty of traffic in and out, but as far as I can tell they’re all normals or sensitives.”

“The front entrance is for their regular clients,” I said. “The mages aren’t going to walk in off the street.”

“But it’s definitely active?”

“The evidence would suggest that, but I can’t confirm it without going inside.”

Haken looked at me.

“It’s locked down pretty tight,” I said. “I haven’t identified anyone yet.”

“I’ve already scanned the easily accessible periods,” Abeyance said. “The problem is the location. If you want more useful information, I’ll need to be inside.”

Haken nodded. “I’m calling in the other teams. Get suited up.” He disappeared again.

The van took us to a nearby building. Although mages can theoretically just gate around London wherever they choose, in practice familiarity and the need for secrecy act as limits. Partly for that reason, the Council has a network of properties around London and England that can be used as transport nodes. This one was an office block—scanning it, the rest of the occupants seemed to be regular business folk, but one of the floors was empty except for us. The Council would own or rent it, and would leave it unused when it wasn’t needed, which was a reminder of just how enormous their resources were. London’s one of the most expensive cities in the world, yet the Council can afford to leave a place sitting empty just on the off chance that it might be used. When you have that kind of money, it gives you a lot of options.

The floor was an open-plan office, scattered tables and benches, and it was busy. Men in black fatigues were standing around in knots, talking or unpacking things from long bags. Their clothes were dark and nondescript, with no insignias or logos, but there was no hiding the black body armour or the guns at their belts. These were Council security, the guards and foot soldiers of the Light mages. If mage battles are a chess game, these guys are the pawns. The jobs that Council security do put them up against everything from Dark mages to magical predators to unlicensed constructs. Sometimes those guns they carry do them some good. Other times, they’re about as effective as thrown rocks. It’s a hard job, and it breeds hard men.

The Keepers were standing around a flimsy table at the centre of the floor, talking quietly amongst themselves. Everyone else was there already; we were the last. “Hey, hey!” Coatl called out as we walked over. “Where’s the bar?”

Haken ignored Coatl. “The Order of the Shield aren’t an option,” he was saying. “Council wants this low-key.”

“Right,” Lizbeth said sarcastically. “The one time those nuts would be useful and we’re not allowed to call them in?”

“The idea is not to escalate things.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Slate said.

“Fine,” Lizbeth said. “So we pick up someone from White Rose and squeeze them.”

“They won’t have the base location.”

Slate shrugged. “Get one of the mages, then.”

The argument went on. Abeyance stood with arms folded, not getting involved. Coatl had wandered off. I checked my phone: it was six o’clock. Time was running out.

“No,” Haken said at last. “We’re going with the original plan. We go in and talk.” He looked around. “Slate, Trask, Cerulean, you’re on point with me. We’ll go through the front door and find someone who can make the decision. Verus, you stay close. Watch for wards and tell us if there are going to be any surprises. Understand?”

I nodded.

“Lizbeth, you take a squad of four and stay with Abeyance. Cover the front and make sure no one does a runner. When it’s clear, escort Abeyance inside and cover her while she uses her timesight.”

“Babysitting?” Lizbeth rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

“Coatl—” Haken looked around. “Where is he?”

“Think he went to the bathroom,” I said.

Trask laughed. Haken looked as though he wanted to swear, but controlled himself. “He’s taking another squad and covering the back.” Where he can’t screw anything up was the unspoken message. He looked around. “Any questions?”

There was a few seconds’ silence. “If we’re going to do it, let’s do it,” Slate said at last.

“Okay,” Haken said. “Move out.”

There was no conversation on the journey back. The van ride was silent but for the rumble of the engine and the sound of the city streets around us, and everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts. There’s a particular kind of tension you get when you’re in a group going on a dangerous mission. You’re isolated, yet at the same time you’re intensely conscious of the people around you. If you trust them, that’s your reassurance. You know you’re not going in alone, and that there’ll be someone to back you up.

If you don’t trust them . . . well, that’s not very reassuring at all.

I studied the other mages in the van. Who would be the most likely to stick a knife in my back? Slate didn’t like me. Neither did Lizbeth. Haken seemed to be on my side, but he was playing some game of his own.

Maybe if I looked at it in terms of magic types. Haken was a fire mage. Slate and Trask were death and water. Abeyance was a time mage, Cerulean an illusionist, Coatl used mind magic, and Lizbeth was a water/air hybrid. Based on that, it was Cerulean and Coatl I should be worrying about. They were the ones who could screw me over without anyone else noticing . . .

I shook my head in frustration. This was impossible. I didn’t know any of these people—until today I hadn’t known that half of them even existed. There were people who spent their whole lives immersed in Council politics, tracking the shifting loyalties and affiliations of the Light mages. Divination or no divination, I couldn’t figure it out in just a few hours. I’d have to play this by ear. I didn’t know whom I should be watching, but my magic would give me a few seconds’ warning if anyone made a move on me, and that would just have to be enough. I needed to focus on being ready for whatever came at me.

The van came to a halt. Haken was speaking into his sleeve, giving quiet instructions to the security men in the other two vans. I could picture what would be going on inside: guns being loaded, equipment double-checked.

I waited.

“Go,” Haken said.

The van doors opened and we streamed out into artificial light. We were in a subterranean parking garage near the White Rose facility in Bank, the other two vans parked on either side of ours, lined up in military precision. The security detail were heading up the ramp. At the top, one of the men was talking to the tollbooth attendant, who was trying to reply and stare at us at the same time. We walked past, up onto the street, and around the corner.

We got a lot less attention than I’d expected. I think it was the lack of fuss. No one ran or shouted; we just moved at a brisk walk, and while the odd passerby turned to stare, the looks they gave us were puzzled ones, as if they weren’t quite sure what was going on. As we moved down the street Haken made hand signals. Coatl split off with four men, Lizbeth and Abeyance with two more. The rest of us turned the corner and headed straight down the alleyway.

Old buildings loomed over us, orange and brown in the artificial light, and unmarked doors passed by to either side. We were in detection range now. I hadn’t seen any cameras on the White Rose house, but it was just a matter of time before they figured out we were there. Haken signalled; Slate and Trask accelerated and I quickened my pace to keep up. Slate reached the door first and banged on it.

There was a moment’s silence, then with a rattle a small slot opened at eye level and I saw the outlines of a face. “What?”

“Hey, mate,” Slate said. “I’m Keeper Slate of the Order of the Star. You’ve got a count of ten to open this door before I break it.”

The eyes in the face saw us and widened. The viewing window rattled shut and I heard a muffled shout. “Hey, Mr. Seer,” Slate said over his shoulder. “Anyone going to get hurt when I smash this down?”

I checked. “No.”

“Pity.” Slate lifted a hand and black energy lashed out.

Death magic blends kinetic and negative energy, and it’s well suited to combat. Slate’s magic was heavier on the kinetic side; the first blast buckled the door, the second smashed it off its hinges. Two Council security men moved in, guns up and ready. Slate and Trask were third and fourth, and I went in behind. The inside looked liked a converted townhouse, with a central hall and doors leading off, and already the men inside were reacting to the attack, shouting and converging. Guards came bursting out into the hall and ran down the stairs from the floors above. The men from White Rose guarding this building were outnumbered, but they were armed and they had the advantage of the choke point.

It didn’t make any difference.

It’s easy to forget just how powerful mages are. Slate took the first two down before I could even react, black rays sending them stumbling to their knees. One on the upper landing, quicker or dumber than the others, managed to get a handgun up and start firing down into the crowded hallway, bang bang bang. Trask already had a shield up, blue energy smooth and polished, the bullets making white flashes as they bounced away. The man got off four shots before Trask sent a hydroblast up the stairs; it caught the guy in the chest, smashing him up into the wall, sending him sprawling limp on the landing.

And just that fast, the battle was over. Four men were down, none of them ours. One of the Council security was advancing on a man at the end of the hall, his submachine gun up and levelled. “Down on the floor!” he was shouting. “Drop the gun, down on the floor!” The White Rose man looked pale and scared; he dropped his gun and backed away, hands up. The Council security man grabbed him and shoved him down.

The Council security started restraining the men on the ground, while more came through the front door. Haken stepped through behind them and looked down at the prone figures before glancing at Slate. “Minimum force?”

“They’re alive, aren’t they?” Slate said. He headed towards the kitchen at the end of the hall. Shouts and calls were echoing down from the floors above. “Hey,” I said to the Council security about to start up the stairs. “There’s a guy about to come down shooting.”

The security man glanced at me, then stepped down, sighting on the top of the stairs. Someone stepped up next to me and I looked left to see the illusionist, Cerulean. His eyes were slightly narrowed, and he waved a hand towards the security man.

The security man lowered his gun and stepped aside. We waited a couple of seconds, then there was the sound of running footsteps and a round-faced guy with a gun appeared on the landing.

Cerulean looked at him. Round Face’s eyes went wide and he screamed. He clapped his hands to his face, bashing himself with the side of the gun in the process, and staggered sideways, tripping over the body of the one Trask had stunned. He went down and kept screaming.

“Clear ground!” someone shouted from the back of the hall. Haken reappeared, skirting around the Council security and the men on the floor. “Verus—” he began, but the screaming from the landing above drowned out his voice. He frowned.

I shook my head and gestured upwards.

Haken looked up, then down at Cerulean, and spoke loudly enough to be heard over the screams. “Could you please shut that off?”

Cerulean shrugged. “It’s not an exact science.”

I stared at Cerulean. I couldn’t see any active spell, but illusion magic specialises in invisibility and it’s notoriously difficult to detect. Illusionists usually manipulate light, but against weaker-willed opponents they can plant phantasms directly inside their targets’ heads. I used my magesight, searching through the frequencies: for a moment I thought I saw something, twisting blue-purple wires linking Cerulean to the man up on the landing, then Cerulean glanced at me and the wires vanished. From above, the screaming cut off abruptly, to be replaced with sobs.

“You two, you’re with with Slate and Trask,” Haken said into the sudden quiet. “Full search, bottom to top. Check every room.”

Cerulean nodded. “Okay,” I said.

Haken headed back towards the end of the hall. I knew Slate and Trask were coming. Cerulean looked at the stairs, then gestured slightly to me, as if to say after you.

I looked back at Cerulean’s expression, polite and indifferent, then as Slate and Trask reappeared I headed upstairs. I could feel Cerulean right behind me.

We cleared the rest of the building, and the remaining White Rose personnel surrendered without a fight. The clients in the process of using White Rose’s facilities were slightly more troublesome, and I got shouted at and threatened by a few men in various states of undress, but once they saw the guns and warrant cards they shut up. Cerulean and Slate told each of them in turn not to use their mobile phones, but funnily enough none of them seemed all that keen to get in touch with their friends and family. The girls (and the one boy) didn’t give any trouble—they’d obviously learnt when not to put up a fight. There were no traps, and more to the point, no mages.

The top floor attic hadn’t been converted into individual bedrooms. It was a studio, with some desks over to one side, but the main point of interest was the arch mounted against the far wall. I’d been using my magesight, searching for wards, and I recognised the thing instantly. Gate magic focus, and . . . password locked? Interesting. The only other person with me was one of the Council security men, and he was helpfully staying just outside the door. I focused on the archway, eyes narrowed. Cracking the password took about a minute. After that, I started path-walking to see what would happen if I stepped through.

I’d been at it for ten minutes when I heard footsteps from behind. Lizbeth and Abeyance’s futures intersected with mine, breaking the path-walk. I stirred and looked around just as the two of them came in. “Is that what I think it is?” Abeyance said as she saw the arch.

“Gate focus to White Rose’s base,” I said.

“Perfect.” Abeyance stood against the wall and narrowed her eyes.

“Anything downstairs?” I asked.

“Several hundred scenes of illicit sex. Per day.”

“That must have been fun to watch.”

“I’ve seen it before.”

“I always wondered how that worked,” I said. “So when you go into some random bedroom and use your timesight . . . ?”

“Yes. That’s exactly how it works.” She shrugged. “You stop paying attention after a while.”

“You two done perving?” Lizbeth said. “How about you get us something useful?”

Abeyance gave Lizbeth an unemotional look and turned to the archway, concentrating. “Your raid worked, didn’t it?” I said.

“Are you stupid?” Lizbeth said. “Did you look at those girls? They’re not even underage. No flesh work, no kids—we haven’t got shit. Probably can’t even make a slavery charge stick.”

“The mage clients aren’t going to be somewhere like this,” I said. “They’ll have the incriminating stuff in their main base.”

Lizbeth gave me a withering look. “Well, that’s not much fucking help, is it?”

I shrugged. “You could go through the arch.”

Lizbeth glared at me. Abeyance ignored us both. There was an uncomfortable silence.

It was broken by the sounds of the other Keepers climbing the stairs. “. . . not getting anything,” Trask was saying in his deep voice. “Could sweat the others.”

“No,” Haken said. “They won’t have anything useful.” He appeared in the doorway, took one look at the archway, then turned to me. “What’ll happen if we go through that?”

“It’ll take us right into the middle of White Rose’s base,” I said. “That’ll start a fight, no two ways about it.”

“So we do it fast,” Slate said.

“They know we’re coming.”

Slate eyed me. “You have something to do with that?”

“White Rose aren’t stupid,” I said. “There are silent alarms spread out through this building. The guys here aren’t meant up to stand up to a Keeper raid; they’re an ablative screen. Same way you guys use your security men.”

“Any chance we can do it peacefully?” Haken asked.

“We step through that gate, they’re going to shoot first and ask questions later. And if you try to talk them down, you might not live long enough to do it. They’ve got a barbican setup. Crossfire, wards, the works.”

“So how about you go first?” Slate said. “They’re your kind, right?”

I gave Slate a look. He grinned and looked at Haken. “So we doing it?”

Haken shook his head. “No.” He threw me a phone; I caught it one-handed. “From one of the guys downstairs. Get me the password.”

I nodded, thumbed the display to reveal the unlock screen, and started working through the numbers. Slate looked at me, then at Haken. “Seriously?” he said in disbelief. “You’re still trying to talk to her?”

“We are trying,” Haken said, “to do this peacefully.”

“Hey, Haken,” Slate said. “You might have missed it so here’s a newsflash for you: Dark mages don’t go peacefully. This is a fucking waste of time.”

Haken looked levelly at Slate. “Go down and help Coatl.”

Slate gave us a disgusted look and stalked off. “Well, this is the place,” Abeyance said. “Vihaela’s used this gate. At least once in the past week, maybe more.”

“Good,” Haken said. “Keep looking for anything else with her. Verus?”

I’d found the passcode and had been scanning the past calls and the messages. “Code is 1535,” I said, tossing the phone back to Haken. “Look for the contact listed as B. It’s not Vihaela, but he’s got access.”

“Uh,” Lizbeth said. “Not to point out the obvious, but how’s calling her going to help?”

Haken didn’t look up from the phone. “Is there a problem?”

“Yeah, the fact that these guys haven’t turned up shit and we’ve got nothing on Vihaela. You think she’s going to just roll up?”

“If she doesn’t,” Haken said absently, “she’ll be disobeying the Council.”

“Oh yeah, that’ll scare her.”

Haken looked up at Lizbeth. “I want you and Trask up here. Set up a defence in case anyone comes through that gate. Verus, you’re on early warning. I want to know at least two minutes before anyone steps through.” He looked between the three of us. “If you make contact, you notify me immediately. You are not to attack first under any circumstances. Clear?”

Trask nodded. “Fine by me,” I said.

Haken looked at Lizbeth. “Clear?”

“Your funeral,” Lizbeth said.

Haken turned and left. “This is the most fucked-up operation I’ve ever seen,” Lizbeth said. “Can you believe this?”

“Mm,” I said. I was trying to see if I could eavesdrop on Haken’s call, but he wasn’t making it yet—he was just heading downstairs. Maybe if I followed farther . . . no, he was going to gate away first. Is he on to me? Worrying thought . . .

“Hey!” Lizbeth told me. “You awake?”

“I can watch for trouble, or I can talk to you,” I said. “Which would you prefer?”

Lizbeth glowered at me, then crossed her arms and looked away. Trask still hadn’t spoken, and Abeyance was still lost in the trance of her timesight. I looked between the three mages and inwardly sighed.

Twenty minutes passed, then forty. The noise level from below diminished as the Council security cleared out the building. A team arrived and set up on the landing, weapons ready. I wanted to go down and find out more, but I was too concerned about the possibility of what Haken had said. It sounded as though he was inviting Vihaela here to talk. By now she’d have to know what had happened here. Would she really leave her fortified base to walk into the middle of a Keeper team like this?

If I were Vihaela and I wanted to talk, I’d do it remotely. If I wanted to fight, I’d just blow up the building. There was no scenario I could think of in which Vihaela’s best option was to come walking through that gate, yet that was what Haken had set me to watch for. I checked future after future, looking for alternate lines of attack: a gate to a different part of the building, a triggered explosive, a toxin or gas. Nothing pinged. Maybe Haken was talking to Vihaela right now . . .

Something shifted in the futures, a ghostly possibility, there and gone again. I stopped, searched, lost the strand, found it again. Movement, lots of movement. A person . . .

My eyes went wide and I looked up. “Trask! Get Haken. Vihaela’s coming.”

Trask put a hand to his ear and started speaking, his voice low and urgent. Lizbeth snapped out orders to the security men on the landing and all of a sudden the room was full of movement. Footsteps came running up the landing. Cerulean was first in; he must have been very close. Haken and Slate followed. Within a minute the small attic was crowded with people. Slate and Trask were at the front, Lizbeth and Haken a step behind. Abeyance had made herself scarce. Half a dozen Council security took up positions covering the gate, kneeling with their submachine guns ready. They weren’t about to fire . . . yet, but between them and the mages, there was enough firepower trained on that gate to kill anyone. Vihaela wasn’t going to step through into that, was she?

“Verus?” Haken said.

“She’s coming,” I said. “Two men with her. They’re not going to shoot first.”

“Good,” Haken said. “Everyone hold fire.”

Seconds ticked by. The room was silent but for the sound of breathing. Council security shifted position, adjusting their guns. Ahead of me, I saw Lizbeth flex her fingers, eager. I took a step back. Cerulean was in the corner, arms folded. There was a lot of power in this room, and it was pointed away from me. So why was I suddenly so nervous?

The gate lit up in my magesight. I heard half a dozen men draw breaths as the surface of the arch darkened and went black, forming a lightless plane. An instant later, Vihaela stepped through.