Veiled

Chapter 13

When I’d seen Vihaela’s decoy a few hours ago, I hadn’t realised at first that she was a fake. It’s hard to identify someone from a picture—you can match the features, but what really sets a person apart is their actions, the way they move and stand and speak. I’d known that there was something off, but I hadn’t known what it was. Often that’s how it happens, when you see an imitation—it doesn’t look totally convincing, but if you don’t have anything to compare it against, you’ll probably accept it.

Until you see the real thing. And then all of a sudden, you can’t understand how you could ever have been taken in by the fake one.

Vihaela—and I knew this was the real Vihaela, knew it instantly and without needing to check—was tall and dark-skinned, though so perfectly proportioned that the only reason I even registered her height was that standing next to Cerulean, she was taller than him. She wore layered clothes of brown and black and red, with white gloves that stood out in the darkness, and moved with the graceful indifference of a bird of prey. Beautiful, but the kind of beauty that intimidates rather than attracts. Looking at her, I understood why Leo had been so afraid of her. She scared me, and I hadn’t even seen her do anything.

This was way more than I’d bargained for. I’d been planning to lose Cerulean and Haken in the darkness, then either call for backup or gate out. All I could do now was hold very still.

“Hello, Haken,” Vihaela said. Her voice was musical, quite pleasant to the ear. “Where’s Verus?”

“Gone,” Cerulean said.

Vihaela gave Haken an inquiring look. “He ran,” Haken said reluctantly.

Vihaela turned to Cerulean. “Fetch the sniffers. Take the outer guard. Find him.”

Cerulean nodded and slipped away into the darkness. Beyond the ring of Haken’s light, I could hear him giving orders. The men outside the circle drew back; I saw Haken’s eyes flick in their direction and he seemed to relax a tiny bit, though he was still on guard. “This would have gone a lot faster,” Haken said, “if you’d just come to talk.”

“Oh, did you like my little surprise?” Vihaela smiled. “Short notice, but I did my best.”

“Hilarious,” Haken said sourly. “You couldn’t have just showed up?”

Vihaela raised an eyebrow. “You really thought I was going to surrender to your little task force? I would have thought you and Levistus would be grateful. You wanted a way to wrap this up quietly.”

“Having your constructs come in shooting was not ‘quietly.’”

Vihaela waved a hand. “Relatively quietly. I think you need more realistic standards.”

Haken took a breath, obviously controlling his temper. “I don’t have much time here. Can we get down to business?”

“Oh, business?” Vihaela clasped her hands and smiled. “That sounds good. So what does the great Levistus have to say?”

“I think you know. By now half the Light mages in Britain have heard that those data focuses can be read. More importantly, they know that you lost one. Every mage who’s used your ‘services’ is scrambling around trying to put a lid on things.”

“Sounds very inconvenient for you.”

“Look,” Haken said. “I’m a Keeper. I don’t know what you guys have got going on here. What I do know is that because of that focus getting out, a lot of Light mages have got a problem. And because Levistus depends on those mages for support, that means he’s got a problem. And since he’s got a problem, he makes it my problem, which means it becomes your problem. So I would appreciate it very fucking much if you could stop doing things like trying to assassinate a Keeper auxiliary in the middle of an operation.”

“Hmm. You’re right.” Vihaela tapped a finger to her lips, studying Haken thoughtfully. “You really don’t know much about what’s going on here.”

I heard Haken grit his teeth.

“Getting rid of Verus wasn’t my idea, by the way,” Vihaela said. “That came down from Marannis. He thought that with Verus gone, we could pick up his apprentice and find out what he did with that data focus. Or maybe it was his idea of mending fences with Levistus.” She shrugged. “Oh well, who cares?”

“Killing a mage on Keeper business isn’t going to mend fences with anyone. You’re smart, you’ll call off the hunt on Verus now.”

Vihaela sighed. “No, that was what Marannis wanted. Try to keep up.”

“I’m not here to—”

“No. You were here to deliver Verus. One simple thing.” Vihaela paused. “Do you have any idea how much work it’s been to get you Keepers moving? I’d thought you’d at least make your raid here. Instead you send your whole assault force after the smallest house we have. I suppose I should have expected it, really. Losing a mage seems to be the only thing that motivates you.”

All of a sudden I knew what Vihaela was going to do. Shit. Who’s she really working for? I very briefly thought about doing something, then abandoned the idea and started looking for ways out.

Haken hadn’t caught up yet. “Look, the way Levistus sees it, we can still keep a lid on this. The others think you’re dead. Okay, we can work with that. That’ll stall the investigation long enough to let us work out something—”

“Sorry, Haken,” Vihaela said. “I’m afraid you and Levistus are a couple of steps behind.”

Haken frowned. “What are you—?”

Light flashed from the small of Haken’s back, magic surging at close range. Haken jerked, his spine arching, then collapsed to the ground.

“Fire mages.” Vihaela shook her head, looking down at Haken. “So easy to misdirect.”

Cerulean materialised out of thin air where Haken had been standing, slipping something back into his pocket. His invisibility was flawless: even with my magesight, I hadn’t picked up any trace of his presence. Two figures came marching out of the darkness; they were the same humanoid constructs that had accompanied Vihaela’s decoy in Bank. “Pick that up,” Vihaela said, pointing down at Haken. The constructs moved to obey and she turned to Cerulean. “Where’s Verus?”

“He couldn’t have gated,” Cerulean said. The constructs lifted Haken; focusing on him I could tell that he was unconscious but still alive. “Wards didn’t trigger. Shroud?”

Vihaela frowned. “This isn’t a good time for distractions.”

“I’ve told the team that Haken’s MIA and Verus is the suspect,” Cerulean said. “Should keep them busy a while.”

Well, shit. That was going to make my life a lot harder.

“Find him anyway,” Vihaela said. She glanced around at the gardens. “You know, I might actually miss this place.” Her voice was thoughtful, and she kept gazing around for a few seconds more before turning to walk away. The constructs followed, carrying Haken between them.

I watched the group disappear into the darkness. As soon as they were gone, I backed slowly away, then turned and started hurrying through the trees. I could still hear voices in the distance, and the flicker of lights. I wasn’t worried about any of the men finding me the regular way, but I was pretty sure a slaver group would have more than just torches.

I ducked into another bush and crouched down in the darkness. I pulled out my phone and started to activate it, then frowned. No signal. I flicked through the futures, trying different numbers—all nothing. They must have a jammer of some kind. I looked into the futures in which I used a gate stone. A minute or two to get the spell working, and . . . oh, goddamn it. Cerulean hadn’t been bluffing about the wards either.

I’d suspected that Haken was going to pull something like this—that was why I’d brought the fire-hunger stone and the mist cloak. My plan had been to wait for him to tip his hand, learn what I could, then bug out. Unfortunately, I’d been counting on either being able to gate away, or get a message to Luna and the others.

A sound rose up from the direction of the house, making my head snap around. It was a low-pitched, throaty arrh-arrh-arrh, something like what you’d get if you crossed a dog and a giant crow. I remembered what Vihaela had said about “sniffers” and a nasty feeling formed in my stomach. My mist cloak’s great against magic, but it doesn’t do anything against tracking by scent.

Plan C. I rummaged around in my bag for the serrated blue disc of my communication focus. I channelled into it, strained myself to give it a bit of extra energy, and waited.

A second later I heard Caldera’s voice from the disc. “Who is this?”

Damn, that’s loud. I wished this one had a volume control like the later models. “Keep your voice down.”

“Verus?” Caldera sounded suspicious. “Is that you?”

I could hear voices behind me to my left. They were getting closer. “It’s me.”

“How do you have a synchronous focus?”

“Not the time. I could really use some help here.”

“Yeah, no kidding. What’s going on with Haken?”

“He’s in deep shit and I’m not doing so well either. Any chance of some backup?”

“Orders are for you to come in—”

“I know. You got a call within the last half hour, telling you that Haken’s MIA and that I’m to be arrested under suspicion of being involved. Right?”

“So are you going to do it?”

“Can’t.”

“If you don’t—”

“I’m not saying I won’t, I’m saying I can’t. I’m at White Rose’s base and they’ve got sink wards. Listen, I didn’t do anything to Haken. He was dealing under the table with Vihaela and got burned. Cerulean’s the mole, not me. White Rose has got Haken, and they’re after me too. I need you to get the others and gate to the beacon from my communicator.”

“That’s not an option.”

A sound went up into the night, the same throaty arrh-arrh-arrh. It was closer this time. I looked over in the direction, then huddled down, biting off my words. “Listen. This is me calling for help. I need you guys here.”

There was a silence. It could only have been a few seconds, but it felt like more. “I can’t,” Caldera said. “Orders are to bring you in. I can’t gate to your position on your say-so.”

“Then call Vari or Landis or someone who can!”

“I can’t do that either. You’re asking me to disobey a direct order.”

“Fuck the orders! If you wait for clearance, then Haken and I are going to be dead by the time you get it!”

I heard a shout from close by. I snatched a look around the tree and swore quietly. Two shapes were moving down the bank, torch beams searching in my direction. They’d heard me talking and I’d been too distracted by the conversation with Caldera to see them coming. “Verus?” Caldera said. “What’s going on?”

Caldera hadn’t kept her voice down. The torches zeroed in and I ducked back behind the tree before they could blind me. I heard a man’s voice, and undergrowth cracked as heavy footsteps headed in my direction.

I took a deep breath and bent my head over the communicator. “Caldera. I know I’ve done things to piss you off and there have been times I haven’t told you everything. But I’ve never actually lied to you and I’m telling you the truth now. I can’t handle this on my own. Please. I don’t know how much longer—”

Danger. I dropped the focus and turned just as the first man came around the side of the tree. His flashlight was up: he’d been expecting me to flee, and the ferocity of my attack caught him off guard. I hit him in the stomach twice, then as he doubled over, kneed him in the face hard enough to feel something break. I turned on the second man to see him backpedalling and I closed in on him, swift and wolflike. He struck out with what looked like a club; from the futures in which it hit me I knew it would discharge a stunning shock. I let it slide past and caught the arm. The torches were dazzling but narrow-beamed, and the other man couldn’t see what I was doing. I closed my eyes as he shone the light into my face, ducked his attempt to club me over the head, then threw him. The fall knocked the torch and shock stick out of his hands, and while he scrabbled for them I had time to draw my stun focus; he’d just made it to his knees when I discharged the focus into his side. He went down and didn’t get up.

Shouts and lights moved through the trees. My fight hadn’t gone unnoticed, and others were closing in. I ran back to the tree where I’d been hiding, scooped up my pack, and scanned the futures: there were people coming from behind and to the left, and going right would bring me up against the perimeter fence. Forward. I wove through the woods, relying on my second sight to keep me from tripping and falling on my face. A couple of men were at risk of cutting me off: I reached down without breaking stride, scooped up a rock in the darkness, and threw it blind. A few seconds later there was a distant tak as it hit a tree. The futures of the men to my left shifted as they homed in on the noise, leaving me a clear path.

I came out of the trees and started up a grassy slope, wind blowing in my hair, the overcast sky above. To my left, I could see the bright lights of the White Rose estate. These grounds felt like the size of a national park, but it meant that I had more space to hide, and that was to my advantage, not theirs. For a second I thought that I’d lost them.

Then I heard the arrh-arrh-arrh sound from behind me, followed by the sound of crashing vegetation. It was close—too close. I ducked behind a bush, blending into the shadows and looking back down the slope.

A shape moved in the darkness under the trees. It looked something like a huge dog, but the proportions were wrong, the shoulders too large. Its lines were solid light in the futures: a construct. There were men with it, though, catching up fast, and they weren’t constructs. As I watched, the shape came out onto the slope and started trotting uphill, head low to the ground, heading straight towards my hiding place.

I calculated quickly. The thing was faster than me; if I kept going, it’d run me down. Maybe I could take it out and lose the men . . . but the light beams of more torches were appearing below . . .

No other choice. Silently, I drew out my dispel focus. I’d only have one shot at this.

The construct was still closing in. It had slowed down, and as it reached a distance of thirty feet from the bush it stopped. Shit. My dispel focus was a touch-range weapon. I held still.

The men were climbing the hillside, closing in on my position. The wolf construct was holding still. Three of them caught up, then five, then six. More were coming. “. . . in there?” I heard one say.

“Can’t see shit . . .”

“. . . a mage, right?”

They began to spread out, circling. They were wary, but that wouldn’t last long. My only cover was the leafy bush, and as soon as they circled far enough around they’d have a clear line of sight to me. I looked into the future, and—

—there. I pulled off my cloak, stuffing it into my pack. One of the men saw the movement and shouted something, the beam of his torch darting out towards me.

Pale brown light split the air, forming a vertical disc, lighting up the startled faces of the men. The light solidified, forming a gate, and Caldera stepped through, coming down onto the grass. She dismissed the gate behind her, called up an orb of light in her hand, and looked at the men surrounding her. “Hey there,” she said. “Seen a diviner around?”

I grinned and took a step forward. Caldera turned instantly, shining the light on me. “Caldera, I have never been so happy to see you in all my life.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Caldera jerked her thumb at the ring of men surrounding us. “Who are the goons?”

“That’s him!” one of the men shouted. “Get him!” He charged Caldera from behind, and as she began to turn he stabbed his shock stick into her side. Blue-white light crackled as the energy discharged into her body.

Caldera finished turning and stared at the man. He looked down at the stick, then up at Caldera. Caldera picked him up, lifted him over her head, and threw him. Not a martial arts throw, more the kind of thing a football player does with a throw-in. She got the same sort of distance too. The man went flying away into the darkness with a long trailing yell that was cut off a couple of seconds later by a thud.

The other men stared down at the flight path their companion had just described, then turned back to Caldera. “Anyone else?” Caldera asked.

There was a rustling, shuffling sound as all of them took a step back. The construct held its ground, staring at us, until one of the men called something and it retreated as well.

Caldera turned and walked to me. “You were supposed to be intel support,” she said. “How do you keep getting into this shit?”

I sighed. “Would you believe I was just following orders?”

More people were gathering downslope. Another one of the wolf constructs had emerged from the trees, and I could hear shouts and see arms pointing in our direction. Caldera still had her light spell active, clearly illuminating us in the darkness. “I hate to be a downer,” I said, “but I think they’re coming back for another round.”

“That’s okay,” Caldera said. “I brought some friends.” She took out her communicator and spoke into it. “Beacon’s lit. Gate when ready.”

“Got it,” a familiar voice said from the disc. “Sixty seconds.”

The men started advancing again up the hill. They moved slowly at first, but we were illuminated by Caldera’s light and they could see that they outnumbered us ten to one. There were three of the wolf constructs now, padding heavily through the grass, black eyes locked onto us. The men still didn’t have guns out, only the shock sticks, but there were an awful lot of them. They closed to sixty feet, then forty. Someone shouted, “Go!” and the wolf constructs arrowed in, the men following behind. I took a step back, bracing myself . . .

And then a gate opened beside us, this one flame-red, lighting up the night. Figures came stepping through: Landis, wreathed in flame; Variam, his face bright and eager; Luna, her wand in her right hand, whip coiled and ready. The men hesitated, shouting. The constructs didn’t. The first construct came face to face with Landis and was just starting its leap when a fireblast exploded it in midair, the wave of heat so intense that I felt it twenty feet away. Red-hot pieces of construct went rolling across the hillside, sending smoke rising up from the grass. “Verus!” Landis said cheerfully. Two more men had been behind the construct and were wavering; he gestured and a spell detonated with an explosive whump, sending them both sprawling. They scrambled to their feet and ran. “Saved a few more for us this time, excellent work. Any friendlies?”

Caldera was fighting to the left; to the right, Variam and Luna were taking on one of the constructs. Vari was holding it at bay with a wall of fire while Luna struck with her whip, the silver mist of her curse lashing eagerly into the construct’s body. I was in a tiny oasis of calm at the centre of the circle, everything happening at once. “Just Haken, he’s at the house—uh, there are two more mages at least, Vihaela and Cerulean. Cerulean is working for White Rose, he’s somewhere around invisible—to your left!”

Landis gestured and one of the White Rose men who’d been in the middle of drawing a gun suddenly screamed and dropped it. The gun hit the grass with a hiss, glowing with heat. “Cerulean, eh?” Landis said. “Never did trust the bugger. Be a good chap and spot for me, will you?”

I looked through the futures, saw gunfire. “Group at the bottom of the hill, your one o’clock. They’re aiming for Vari.”

Landis lifted a hand and a glowing ball of dark red energy formed above one finger. He frowned down at the people below who were sighting on Variam. “Should have taken the hint, boys.” The glowing spark flew downhill, disappearing into the night.

Fire bloomed, followed by a clap of thunder. For an instant everyone on the hillside was illuminated in fiery red, then a wave of hot air rolled over, making me stagger. The three men who’d been about to open fire were gone. In their place was a circle of scorched and glowing earth, shapeless masses burning at the centre.

The men still standing broke and ran. To the right, the construct Vari and Luna had been fighting tried to leap; Luna sent a pulse of some kind through her whip, flashing into the doglike body. The construct staggered and collapsed, its animating spell misfiring as Luna’s curse set it against itself. Vari burned away its head with an incineration spell. “Boss!” he called at Landis. “They’re running!”

“Let them go,” Landis said. “This was just the small fry. Verus?”

“They’re gone,” I said, scanning the futures. “Can’t sense any mages or adepts. They must be back at the estate.”

“Yeah, and now they know we’re here,” Caldera said, walking up, glancing down at the last scattered men fleeing into the trees. Behind her, the third construct was broken on the grass. I hadn’t even noticed her take it down. “Get behind me. The guys coming in aren’t going to be so happy to see you.”

“What do you—?” I saw what was going to happen. “Jesus. When you said you were bringing company, you weren’t kidding, were you?”

“What, you thought I was going to come charging in on my own? That hero shit is for rookies.” Caldera glanced sideways. “Landis . . . ?”

Landis made a reassuring gesture. “I’m here in a purely supporting role, my dear. You’re the senior.”

“Thanks.” Caldera turned back towards the slope. “Here?”

“Here,” I said. “Five seconds.”

Caldera nodded.

Another gate opened up on the hillside, followed by another. Council security men came through, two by two, guns levelled. Torches shone on our faces, and I squinted against the glare. “I’m Keeper Caldera,” Caldera said, arms folded. “These guys are with me. Point those things somewhere else.”

The Council security glanced at each other, then lowered their guns. “Clear!” one of them called back through the gate.

The next one through was Slate. “You’d better have—” he started to say to Caldera, then he saw me and his face darkened. “You!”

“Okay, look,” I said. “I can explain.”

“You can do it in a cell. You, you.” He gestured to the security men. “Arrest him.”

“Belay that order,” Caldera said.

“Do it!”

“If you touch him,” Caldera told the two security men calmly, “then I will shove whichever body part you use to do it up your own arse.”

The two security men looked at Caldera, looked at Slate, and clearly and visibly decided not to get involved. “Caldera,” Slate snarled. “What the fuck?”

“Verus is my second,” Caldera said. “Not yours.”

People were still coming through the gate. There were a good fifteen security men with us now, but most had taken one glance at what was going on and hurried past to set up a perimeter. No Council auxiliary wants to get in the middle of a mage fight. “This is my case,” Slate said.

“No, the raid in Bank was your case. You don’t have seniority here.”

Slate glanced at Landis, who made a very small gesture to indicate that he wasn’t involved. “Look, maybe I can—” I began.

“Shut up,” Caldera and Slate told me at exactly the same time.

I blinked, and did. “Cerulean fingered him for Haken being MIA,” Slate said.

“Yeah, well, some new stuff’s come to light,” Caldera said. She jerked her head back towards the distant building. “Like the fact that Haken’s in there. You want to argue jurisdiction, or you want to get him out before Vihaela gets to work on him?”

Slate gave Caldera a hard look. His eyes flicked to me and back to Caldera, and I felt the futures settle. “He doesn’t leave my sight,” Slate said. “And I’ve got tactical command, not you. Got it?”

Caldera nodded. “Fine.”

Trask had appeared behind Slate, who turned to him. “Get on the com to Rain,” Slate said. “Tell him we want more backup, as much as he can scare up.” Slate raised his voice, addressing the crowd. “All right, ladies! Lock and load, we’ve got work to do!”

“Thanks,” I told Caldera quietly.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Caldera said, her voice dry. “Slate would have had you safe at HQ. Now you’re going to be leading the charge.”

“You going to tell them about Cerulean?”

“You do not want to make it your word against a Keeper’s.” Caldera looked around then headed towards Slate, giving me a last comment over her shoulder. “Don’t screw this up.”

All around us, men were organising, sorting into teams. “That was fun,” Luna said, walking over from where she’d been talking to Variam. Her eyes were bright and there was a spring in her step. “Thought you’d forgotten about us.”

“Just keep your head down and stick with Vari and Landis,” I said. “You’re still not supposed to be here. And be—”

“Be careful, I know,” Luna said, rolling her eyes. “Look who’s talking.”

“That pulse trick you used against that construct,” I said curiously. I’d never seen Luna use that move before. “Where did that come from?”

“Oh.” Luna shrugged. “Chalice showed me. Worked pretty well, right?”

I looked at Luna. “Yeah, it did.”

“Hey!” Slate shouted. “Verus! I said where I can see you!”

I sighed and gave Luna a nod. “Stay safe.” I walked to join Slate’s group.

Slate was with Trask and Caldera, and he was giving orders to a group of Council security. “. . . through the gap,” he was saying. “Once we’ve made the breach, I want two men on point. Stay in cover range for when things go wrong.” He beckoned to me and started walking. “Let’s go, fortune-teller. You’re finding us a way in.”

“It’s Verus, not ‘fortune-teller.’ You’re not waiting for backup?”

“If you and Caldera are right,” Slate gave a sharp glance, “then we don’t have time. And to make sure, you’re going at the front.”

I sighed. “Fine. Then stay quiet and let me work.” I searched through the futures, picking out points of entry. White Rose’s base loomed up in the futures and the present, growing closer each second.

Keepers can move fast when they want to. It took the whole assault force less than five minutes to make it across the grounds and to the White Rose estate. To no one’s surprise, by the time we got there, the defending forces were alerted and ready for us.

When you’re doing recon, five minutes isn’t much time. With half an hour, I could probably have found a way to get in safely. With an hour, I might have slipped in a couple of other people too. Getting the whole assault force in subtly and cleanly was not going to happen, no matter how long I had.

Fortunately, “subtle” wasn’t on Slate’s priority list. The front doors of the White Rose estate were bound in metal, reinforced and warded. But the reinforcement didn’t extend to the entire building, and my divination found the weak points in the walls. The elemental mages did the rest.

At which point things got busy.

“Pull back!” Slate shouted into his communicator. “Stay in cover!”

I was lying flat behind a low rise in the ground. I could just make out the edges of the right wing of the White Rose estate, but not the central block, which was just as well because that was where the fire was coming from. A low-pitched, hollow duh-duh-duh sound echoed from the roof, repeated and overlapping, mixing with the distant sounds of bullets sinking into earth. The man who’d been hit in the first volley had stopped screaming: treated or dead, I couldn’t tell which. Slate shoved the disc away and glared at me. “Why didn’t you tell us about this?”

“I told you those things on the roof looked like bunkers,” I said absently. Most of my attention was on counting the sources of fire. There were only three that I could see, but that was enough to make it a bad idea to stick your head up.

“You didn’t tell us they had machine guns!”

“You didn’t give me a chance to check.”

“Fuck it.” Slate lifted himself up to squint out over the rise at the estate. “Let’s just—”

“Get down,” I said calmly.

Slate might have been obnoxious, but he wasn’t stupid. He ducked instantly. A bullet whipped overhead with an angry whizzing sound.

“Slate!” Trask called from twenty feet away. The big man was pressed up behind a tree. “Flanking team’s bogged down. Trap field.”

Slate swore.

“Landis is circling,” I said, still not lifting my head. “Once he gets to the top of the hill, he can melt those bunkers right off the rooftop.”

“That’ll take too long.” I felt the futures shift as Slate came to a decision. “Trask, put up a fog cloud, then get Caldera and the front team. We’re going in.”

I didn’t hear Trask’s answer, but I felt the signature of water magic. A moment later the air grew cool, strands of mist forming out of the night, spreading and thickening to become a fog. Within seconds everything more than a few feet away had disappeared into the cloud. It was the same spell my condensers used, but much more powerful: the cloud was already more than fifty feet wide and it wasn’t slowing down.

I felt a hand on my arm and glanced up to see Slate. His eyes glittered. “Let’s move, seer boy,” he said. “You’re with me.”

Briefly it occurred to me that if Slate wanted to take a shot at me, now would be the perfect time to do it. Oh well, I’ve already had two Keepers try to backstab me this evening. Lightning doesn’t strike three times in the same place, right? I took a deep breath, then stood up and ran for the building.

It caught Slate off guard—I think he’d been expecting to have to drag me. I left him behind, outdistancing him in the mist, and suddenly I was running alone. The mist cloud blocked sight and muffled sound, and for a brief moment it didn’t seem as though I was in a battle at all. The sounds of gunfire were faint and distant, and there was no one close enough to threaten me. It was almost peaceful.

Then somewhere above, the machine gunners shifted fire, and in a scattering of the futures ahead of me I saw myself torn apart. Okay, not so peaceful. I slowed to a jog, twisting sideways, sensing the bullets snap past. Behind me I heard someone lose their breath in a gasp, followed by a thud. And then all of a sudden the walls of the White Rose estate were looming up, flower beds under my feet. I’d made it through the gauntlet of fire, and I was too close for the gunners on the roof to reach me. There was a blackened hole in the outer wall where one of Landis’s fireballs had struck; I could still feel heat radiating from the stone. I went through . . .

. . . and came out of the mist into a plain wooden corridor, face to face with two men in shirts and jeans. Both were carrying guns but they weren’t aiming them at me, and before they could react I pointed at them. “What are you doing? Why aren’t you with Vihaela?”

Confusion is the ally of the prepared. The two men paused, looking at each other. I didn’t give them time to react. “Order is to pull back to the upper floor. Move!”

“But they told us—” one of the men began.

Slate came out of the mist behind me, black energy hovering at his hands. I dived for cover. The men hesitated—first mistake—and levelled their guns at Slate—second mistake. They didn’t get the chance for a third. Black lightning cracked and I heard the thump of bodies hitting the floor.

I got to my feet and glanced at what was left of the two men. Slate hadn’t used nonlethal spells this time. “Which way?” Slate demanded.

“Working on it.” My future selves were moving through the mansion, running and dodging and dying.

Caldera and Trask came through behind us, trailed a moment later by two more Council security men. No more followed; the rest of the team had been lost to fog or gunfire. They spread out, securing the corridor. Caldera covered one side, while Trask set up on the corner to the right.

I kept flicking through the futures ahead. With the interference from Slate and the fighting, it was slow going. Right side was going to run us into trouble. Left seemed clearer. Upstairs was clearer still. Now where was Haken . . . ?

“Well?” Slate said.

“Shh,” I said absently. I’d just caught a trace of Cerulean. So he’s still here. No Vihaela, though. Maybe if I looked for her first . . .

Gunfire sounded to the right, followed by a scream. I heard the rushing sound of a water blast and the firing cut off abruptly. “Get on with it!” Slate snarled.

“You rush a diviner, you get crappy divinations,” I said without opening my eyes. Left route wasn’t working out. There was a small oasis of calm on the first floor and I split my perceptions, pushing myself to track multiple paths at once. Was that it?

Another burst of gunfire came from the right, and Slate and Trask’s response fragmented my path-walk. There. I’d only had a glimpse but I was sure it was him. “Found him,” I said. “First floor. This way.” I walked across the corridor and pulled open a door: it led into a small staircase, winding upwards.

Slate didn’t hesitate. “Caldera, Trask!” he shouted. “Moving out!” Then he hurried after me.

The sounds of fighting died away as we jogged up the stairs. The battle was still going on outside, and there were a lot of enemies all around us, but Trask’s fog spell had spread enough confusion that most of the White Rose defenders hadn’t yet figured out that they had intruders. From above I could still hear the staccato beat of the machine guns, but as we reached the first floor there was a tremor and a thud, and one of the guns stopped firing. Probably Landis’s work. I hoped Luna was staying with him and hadn’t done anything crazy.

The first floor of the White Rose estate was more comfortably furnished, and I had a brief impression of rugs on the floor and mirrors on the walls. The path I’d planned out splintered into combat around the next corner, and I changed plans on the fly. There was a door two steps away, with a bolt on the outside. “In here,” I said quietly over my shoulder to the others, pulled the door open, shut it behind them once they were in, then held a finger to my lips when Caldera tried to talk. She, Slate, and Trask were the only ones still with me; we’d lost the security men somewhere along the way. We stayed quiet, and a moment later, I heard footsteps go running past outside.

The room we’d entered was a bedroom, decorated in pink and white. A muted yellow light cast a soft glow, illuminating a hanging mobile. Stuffed animals were piled on an armchair, and a small table held a reading lamp and a notebook with loopy writing on the cover that read My Diary. The bed was frilly and fluffy, with more stuffed animals propped up against the headboard, and a small girl was sitting up in it. She was dressed in a white nightie and couldn’t have been more than nine years old. “Are you my daddy?” she asked me.

I stared at her. Her eyes were blue, without any sign of fright, or worry . . . or anything. I looked into the futures and felt a chill. The girl’s futures were solid lines, reacting to our input without any initiative or variation. Just like a construct.

“I’ve been good,” the girl said.

I felt my skin crawl. I turned and headed for the other side of the room, where a connecting door was half hidden by a wardrobe.

“Jesus,” Slate said. He was staring at the girl.

“Are you my daddy?” the girl asked.

“Guys,” I said, not looking at the bed. “Come on.”

Slate was staring at the girl, but Trask and Caldera followed me. “Door’s locked,” I said. A muffled shout sounded from somewhere off to the left, followed by gunfire. “Keep it quiet.”

Trask nodded, and I stepped out of the way. The big man put a hand to the door handle: there was a blue glow and the handle, the locking mechanism, and a six-inch circle of door puffed into dust. Trask pushed it open. “Slate,” I said over my shoulder. Slate tore his gaze away from the girl and followed. The girl watched us go with dead eyes.

The next room was panelled in stone, with a medieval theme. A fire burned in a fireplace, and oil lanterns were mounted on the walls. At the centre was what looked like an old-fashioned version of a medical examination bench. A side table held a tray of gleaming metal implements that could have been dentists’ tools, if you didn’t look too closely. I was glad Luna wasn’t here to ask questions. None of us spoke; we moved through and out.

Another door, another corridor. Someone almost ran over us as he came around a corner. He wasn’t dressed like one of the White Rose soldiers, but in a business suit: one of their clients, maybe. Slate stunned him with an enervation spell and we kept moving . . .

And then all of a sudden we were there. We’d come to what was obviously a cell block, metal doors with sliding windows on the outside. “He’s—” I began.

“He’s in there!” Slate said. Death mages can sense living creatures: it’s not as precise as lifesight, but Slate obviously knew what to look for. “Get the door!”

Trask turned the lock and most of the door to dust. Inside was a plain cell, a toilet, a bunk . . . and Haken, lying unmoving on the bed. Slate took a step forward.

“Wait.” Caldera caught him, jerking him to a stop. “Verus, any traps?”

I concentrated. “Can’t see.”

Slate shoved Caldera off with an effort and strode into the room. Nothing triggered and he bent over Haken for a second, then looked back at us. “He’s okay.”

“I don’t like that look on your face,” Caldera said. “What’s wrong?”

“This is too easy,” I said. “There weren’t even any wards . . .”

“Who cares?” Slate said.

Something clicked. “It’s a decoy.”

“Looks like Haken to me,” Caldera said.

“No. I mean, yes, it’s him, but that’s not what I meant. We weren’t—”

“Verus?” Slate said. “Shut up. You’ve done your job.”

“Wait,” Caldera said. “We weren’t what?”

Slate gave Caldera a look. “Really?”

“I’ve learnt that if you bring a diviner along, it’s a good idea to listen to him,” Caldera said. “Especially this one. We weren’t what?”

“Vihaela isn’t working for White Rose anymore,” I said. “She’s bailing.”

“How?”

I spread out my senses, looking for Vihaela. Too much interference—I needed more to go on. I thought about how all this had started. The data focus and what was on it . . .

Information. The real power behind White Rose. I snapped my fingers. “She’ll be at the archives. Wherever they keep their records. She’s going to take them and run.”

“Why?” Slate said.

“Because that’s what she’s after. Look, think about it. What would she want with Haken? She wasn’t trying to silence him, she wants the Keepers here. Everything she’s done has made things worse for White Rose, not better.”

“You don’t know that,” Slate said.

I looked up at the ceiling in frustration. He’s not going to listen, is he? I turned to Caldera.

Caldera looked back at me for a second, then glanced at Slate. “We are still under orders to bring her in.”

“You’re really buying this?” Slate said.

Caldera shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

Slate hesitated, and I felt the futures fork and then shift. “Fine,” he said. “Trask, get Haken out. We’ll take Vihaela.”

“You sure?” Trask said.

“Don’t have time to wait.” Slate turned to me. “Find Vihaela. And make it fast.”

We split, Trask carrying Haken back the way we came while Slate, Caldera, and I headed deeper. With only three of us left, there was less interference to my senses. The machine-gun fire from the roof had stopped, and instead I could hear shots echoing from the ground floor; the fight was still going on, and it sounded as though the Council had brought in reinforcements. Shouts and hollow thuds echoed from below, and I could smell smoke. The fighting was getting closer, which seemed like a good indication that White Rose was losing. I didn’t know where Vihaela was, but I’d managed to get a good enough sense of the building that I could guess where the more secure facilities were housed, and I picked us a route that would avoid as many people as possible. Running footsteps sounded from all around, but in the chaos we were able to make our way across the building without being spotted.

I reached a corner and stopped, using my divination to peer around the edge. The room beyond had a circular door in the far end that looked like a vault, made of metal and massively thick. The lock had been melted by some kind of intense heat, and the door was swung half open. Bodies lay scattered across the floor. A chair had been knocked over, but apart from that there were no signs of battle, and no bullet holes in the walls. The walls in this section were thicker, blocking out the sounds of the fighting behind, and all of a sudden the corridor was eerily quiet.

Caldera frowned at the bodies. “Any of our guys make it this far?”

“No.” Slate came around the corner and saw what Caldera was looking at. “Blue on blue?”

“I don’t think this was an accident,” I said. I nodded at the vault door. “Get ready. Vihaela’s coming out.”

“I don’t see her.”

“Trust me.”

Slate and Caldera looked at each other, then walked forward, stepping over the bodies to take up positions flanking the door. The anteroom had two corridors leading off it, one to Caldera’s right, the other where we’d come from. I stayed close to the corner.

Footsteps sounded from inside the vault, and Vihaela appeared. She looked much the same as she had when I’d seen her out in the grounds, with one change: she had a light satchel slung over one shoulder. She looked unsurprised to see us. “Oh,” she said. “You.”

“Mage Vihaela,” Slate began. “Under the—”

Vihaela waved a hand. “Can we skip this part?”

“Suits me,” Slate said. He was standing in a ready stance, feet spread wide. “You coming quietly?”

Vihaela looked between us for a second before answering. “Three of you.” She frowned slightly. “I’m actually a little insulted.”

“Yeah, sorry to burst your bubble,” Slate said. “We got better things to do than go after freaks like you.”

“I mean, three Keepers would be one thing,” Vihaela said. “But two Keepers and an auxiliary? You aren’t even taking me seriously.”

“We’re crying,” Caldera said.

“Just out of curiosity, what are you charging me with? It’s not as though I hurt your boss.”

“Bullshit,” Slate said.

“Sorry,” Vihaela said. “Didn’t lay a finger on him. You can check with him when he wakes up.”

“If you didn’t,” Caldera said, “then who are you saying did?”

“Now you want me to solve your case too?” Vihaela shook her head. “Come on. If I really wanted Haken dead, you think I couldn’t have done it already? There’s no point offing Keepers. Sometimes we have to hurt you a little, just to teach you to stay out of our business, but killing you? Why bother?”

“Keep talking,” Slate said. “Your men are losing out there.”

I still couldn’t hear or sense any people moving in our direction, but the longer this went on, the better the chance that Council reinforcements would arrive. Caldera stayed quiet, and I knew she had to be thinking the same thing. If Vihaela stuck around, sooner or later she’d be overwhelmed.

Vihaela turned towards the right-hand corridor. “Well, fun as this has been, I’ve got places to be.”

“You aren’t going anywhere,” Slate said.

Vihaela paused, then turned her head to look back at Slate and raised an eyebrow. “Do you really want to do this?”

“You don’t want to pick a fight with Keepers, Vihaela,” Caldera said.

“Times are changing, Keeper.” Vihaela smiled. “The people you work for are going to be changing too. Might want to think about staying on their good side.”

I stared at Vihaela. “Now,” Vihaela said. “I’m going to walk away. If you’re smart, you’ll tell your captain that I was gone when you got here. If not . . .” She shrugged. “Your call.” She started towards the corridor.

Caldera stepped in her way. Vihaela kept walking, unhurried. She was ten feet away from Caldera, then five. Caldera hesitated and for a second I could tell she was thinking about backing off. I knew I should be doing something, but I found myself staring, fascinated. There was something hypnotic about Vihaela’s movements . . .

The moment broke and the futures settled. Caldera reached out to seize Vihaela as the Dark mage came into range.

“Don’t!” I shouted.

I was almost too late, but Caldera heard my warning and twisted aside at the very last second, just as Vihaela moved. Green-black light flashed, Caldera went staggering back, and Slate struck instantly, death energy lashing out.

The blast hit Vihaela and . . . something happened, then Vihaela was advancing. Slate hit her again, crackling black lightning flashing from his hands into Vihaela’s body, but the dark green light of Vihaela’s spells met Slate’s attacks and it was Slate who was driven back. Even watching it clearly, I couldn’t make out what Vihaela was doing. She was so fast, her movements flowing and precise. I’ve met a lot of battle-mages, but in all my life I’d only seen a handful who moved like that. The closest thing that Vihaela’s fighting style reminded me of was a Dark mage named Onyx, but Onyx had relied purely on speed and power. Vihaela was different; every move she made was like a step in a dance, so natural that it seemed effortless. I’d been about to join the fight, but as I looked at the futures, I realised that I was utterly outclassed. All I could do was watch.

Caldera recovered and charged Vihaela from behind. Without turning Vihaela sidestepped the rush, directed a spell into Caldera that sent the heavier woman staggering, and struck again at Slate in the same motion. Caldera sent a ranged spell of some kind: it soaked into Vihaela and slid off, and Vihaela’s next strike snapped Slate’s head back. I understood now why Vihaela had looked so relaxed. She was fighting Caldera and Slate at the same time, and she didn’t even look as though she was going all-out.

Green and black light was thrown back from the walls, mixing with the brown of Caldera’s earth magic. The floor shook with heavy blows, and deflected spells punched holes through the plaster; the air was thick with ozone and the scent of blood. Caldera stumbled over one of the bodies and Vihaela hit her in the instant she was off balance. Caldera shook it off with a snarl. Her protective spells had kept her standing through Vihaela’s attacks, but she was moving more slowly and I could tell she was being worn down. She moved right to flank Vihaela, her back to the other corridor.

The futures shifted. “Caldera!” I shouted. “Behind!”

Caldera turned—too slow. Air imploded, striking with enough force to pulp flesh, and Caldera went down. Slate moved to cover her, dropping his own attacks as he did so.

Vihaela paused. Green-black energy glowed around her; her hair was mussed, but as far as I could tell she hadn’t been scratched. She turned her head to look down the corridor. “I didn’t need the help.”

A man stepped out into view, dressed in grey. A beard covered the lower half of his face, and he wore dark glasses. It was the assassin from two nights ago, Chamois. He inclined his head back very slightly.

“Protecting his investment?” Vihaela said. She shrugged. “Fine.” She turned to leave.

“Hold it!” Slate called.

“Or you’ll do what?” Vihaela said without looking back. She walked away.

Slate half-moved after her. Chamois met his eyes and shook his head very slightly. Slate stopped.

Then Chamois looked at me. He stood studying me for a second, then reached into his pocket, took something out, and tossed it at me. I felt the surge of a minor spell, giving extra force to the throw. As it spun in midair the futures flashed before me—no danger. I caught the thing one-handed, then looked down at what I’d been thrown.

It was a brown cloth pouch. Looking into the futures where I opened it, I saw a condenser. The same one I’d decoyed Chamois away with on the train.

I looked back up to see Chamois watching me. He turned and was gone.

Slate made a move after him. “Don’t,” I said tightly. I hurried to Caldera’s side. She was down on one knee, bleeding from her ears. “Caldera. You okay?”

Caldera looked up at me with a frown and shook her head wordlessly. She hadn’t heard me. “Slate,” I called.

Slate touched Caldera’s shoulder, frowning. “She’s deaf, eardrums busted. Be fine if we can get her to a life mage. We need to go after them—”

“With what?”

Slate clenched his fist. For a moment I saw the flicker of arguments, then he abandoned them. “I’m going to get them.” Slate’s voice was tight and furious. “This isn’t over. Understand?”

I didn’t answer. In the distance, from where Vihaela and Chamois had disappeared, I felt the signature of a gate spell, and I knew they were gone. Slate punched the floor with a sharp crack.

I didn’t move. Caldera shrugged us off and got to her feet, still unsteady. From behind, I could hear shouts and footsteps, and looking into the futures, I saw that they were friendly. The three of us stood in the anteroom, alone with the bodies, and waited for our reinforcements to arrive.