Veiled

Chapter 7

The thing in the room with me was dark grey, four-legged, and fast. I had a fleeting impression of a low-slung body and glowing blue eyes, then it lunged. I dodged, kicked; the thing lurched away but seemed to twist in midair and was on me again in a blink. For a few crazy moments everything was a blur of motion, claws and teeth and icy cold. A paw raked for my face, I blocked and hit the thing in the belly, then it was slamming into me, sending me staggering against the wall. It snapped at me, wispy blue light trailing from its fangs; I scrabbled for its neck, got a grip, tried to force it back. It strained against me, trying to reach my skin with its teeth, and it was hellishly strong. Empty glowing eyes stared into mine as it bit at me again and again. Cold was sinking down my fingers and into my joints, numbing my hands, and I tried frantically to push it away—

A big hand shot down across my field of vision and pulled the thing off me. I looked up to see Caldera holding the thing up one-handed. It struggled and Caldera smashed it into the door frame, once, twice, three times, the door frame splintering and breaking, then she slammed it to the floor, drew back her other hand, and hit it with a downward blow. There was a crack and the thing went still.

All of a sudden the house was silent again. The whole fight had been over in seconds. “You all right?” Caldera asked.

“I think I need new pants.” I scrambled to my feet. “Thanks. What was it?”

“Icecat. There any more?”

I took a breath, heart pounding, and looked ahead. The creature was lying on the floor, still and dead. It was cat-shaped, the size of a leopard or jaguar, but now that I could see it more closely, I could tell it was a construct. The eyes were lifeless now, the spell that had powered it broken. “At least one out the back. Maybe more.”

Caldera opened the wardrobe door to reveal Leo huddled in the corner. “We’re leaving,” she told him. “Stay close.” She pulled him out.

Leo’s eyes lit on the body of the icecat and his face went pale. “Oh God.”

“Just stay with me.” Caldera dragged Leo downstairs.

The fight with the icecat had been so fast that I hadn’t had the chance to draw a weapon. I pulled out my phone and started typing, trying to search through the futures at the same time. Danger flickered through the possibilities, getting closer. I hit Send, shoved the phone back into my pocket, and followed Caldera.

Caldera was down in the living room behind the dividing wall, crouched low and holding on to Leo tightly. Leo was huddled into a ball, breathing fast. “Where are they?” Caldera said quietly.

“Don’t go out the front,” I said, keeping my voice down. From our position we could barely see the front door, and couldn’t see the back at all, but I knew what would happen if we went there. “There’s someone covering the front door. We step through it, we’re going to eat a spell to the face. Something else too . . .”

“The back?”

“More icecats.” I scanned future after future in which we left the house. In most of them we got shot the instant we came into view. “A mage as well.”

“So we’re surrounded.”

All around us, the house was dark and silent. After the brief flurry of the battle, there had been no sound from outside; only my divination let me know that anything was there. I could hear Leo’s rapid breathing, and the whites of his eyes showed in the gloom. “Don’t let her take me back,” he said, his voice high and scared. “I’ll do whatever you what. Just don’t let her, please—”

“No one’s taking you anywhere,” Caldera said, then looked at me. “Can you tell when our backup’s going to be here?”

I’d been scanning the futures for exactly that. “No.”

“Shit. Where are they?”

“I don’t know, but if you’re expecting the cavalry to come riding to the rescue, you’re going to have to wait.”

“If we break out the back?”

“We’ll go right into a fight,” I said. “Two icecats, the guy controlling them—ice mage, I think—and something else. Something bigger.”

Caldera was silent, and I knew what she was thinking. Caldera might be able to beat that many, but she couldn’t protect Leo at the same time. “All right,” she said at last. “We hold here and wait for backup. I’ll try the com disc—”

“Forget that bloody focus. It’s not helping.”

“You have a better plan?”

“I called for backup too. We just need to hope these guys wait long enough—” The futures shifted and I trailed off. All of a sudden the ones with violence in them were much closer. “Shit.”

“What?”

“We’ve got incoming.” Movement from the back. Had they left the front exposed? No—if we made a break for it that way, we’d still run straight into fire and—

“Verus. Talk to me.”

“Icecats.” I kept my voice low. “They’re going to force an entry at the back. They’ll come through the kitchen and the picture window, then sweep towards us.”

“Can we get them as they come in?”

“No, it’s a trap. They’re going to pause at the entrances—get you to show yourself so they can get a clear line of sight. That ice mage is somewhere in the back garden—”

There was a scraping sound from the kitchen, very loud in the darkness. Leo whimpered and tried to huddle into the corner. Caldera glanced back at the front door. “They going to come from the front as well?”

“Don’t think so.”

Another scraping sound, and I heard the sound of splintering wood. “I’ll take the cats,” Caldera said, and I knew she’d made her decision. She came up to one knee, staring into the dividing wall as though she could see through it. “You stay with the kid.”

“Wait. There’s something else.” I could see confused futures of another path through the combat, something hulking and big. “Another construct, I think . . . but it’s not there yet . . .”

The door broke with a crunch and I fell silent. I could hear the distant sounds of the city drifting in through the now-open back door: traffic, an aircraft overhead, a TV from somewhere. No voices or shouts. There were people in the houses all around us, but no one had raised the alarm. It seemed crazy that we were fighting for our lives and the neighbours hadn’t even noticed, but they couldn’t see the futures that I could. All they’d have seen was the window breaking and the scuffle with the icecat, and that had been over in seconds. They probably hadn’t even heard it over the TV, and by the time they’d gotten to the window to look, it would have been all over.

Footsteps padded through the kitchen on the other side of the divider. I could hear the icecat’s movement, smooth and heavy. No breathing. To my sight the construct’s futures were solid lines in the darkness, easy to predict. Another was about to break in, and I signalled for Caldera to stay where she was.

There was the crash of breaking glass, shockingly loud. Leo jumped, and I covered his mouth before he could yelp; his eyes were wide and I could feel his quick breath against my palm. The dividing wall blocked our view of the icecats, but I knew where they were—one was to the left in the kitchen, the other in the broken remnants of the picture window, a little more than five feet from where Caldera was crouching.

Silence. The icecats were waiting. There was no variation in the lines of their future; they were following a program, not under direct control. They would wait another ten seconds, then close in. I tapped Caldera, then took my hand away from Leo’s mouth and held up ten fingers where Caldera could see. Then I held up nine fingers, then eight.

Caldera nodded, came quietly up to one knee. Seven, six, five. Broken glass crunched from the other side of the dividing wall as the icecats moved. Four, three. Caldera braced herself, ready to lunge. Two. A shadow appeared on the wall, the long shape of the icecat outlined by the ambient light from the garden behind it. One. I took hold of Leo, making sure he wouldn’t run.

Zero.

The icecat came around the corner and Caldera met it in a rush. The blow threw the icecat into the wall with a thud and Caldera moved in, but it was already turning on her, eyes glowing blue in the darkness. Leo made as if to bolt, but I tightened my grip on his arm and he went still. The second icecat lunged for Caldera but she stepped back, using the dividing wall as cover, forcing them to come around the corner one at a time.

Shapes flashed in the darkness, fist meeting claw. The icecats were constructs, immune to pain and unnaturally strong, but Caldera was their match and more. Most battle-mages focus on ranged spells, learning to use their magic to kill safely from a distance, but Caldera is one of the ones who specialise in getting up close and personal. To my eyes her body was outlined in solid brown energy, flowing down her arms and legs and rooting her to the ground, one spell giving her strength and stability, another making her skin as hard as stone. The icecats’ claws trailed cold mist in the shadows, but where they met Caldera’s skin they scraped off harmlessly. Caldera’s blows didn’t scrape off. When she connected, the icecats went flying. Here in these tight quarters she was in her element, and even two on one, the icecats were losing.

I held back as Caldera fought. In one hand I had a silver dart, tapered to a point—a dispelling focus. It could disrupt the spells that powered the icecats, maybe even destroy one with a lucky hit, but it needed to be recharged between attacks and I’d only get one shot. I wasn’t planning to use it unless I had to—this was a heavyweight fight and I was out of my league. Instead I kept searching the futures, trying to look past the chaos of combat to see what was coming. There were flickers of ice magic, but it looked as though our plan was working—the ice mage at the back couldn’t get a straight shot. But there was something else, a construct or gate magic or a combination of the two. Whatever it was, it was bad news, and—

Caldera kicked at one of the icecats and it dodged, sliding away with an odd grace. The movement brought it farther into the living room, and for the first time, it had a clear line of sight to Leo.

Instantly the futures changed. The possibilities in which the icecat attacked Caldera or me vanished—it was locked onto Leo and no one else. Without hesitating it sprang.

“Caldera!” I shouted, but Caldera was already reacting. Her punch caught the icecat in midair, sent it flying into the wall. But she’d had to step back to do it, and the second icecat came around the corner . . . and as soon as it saw Leo it locked onto him, too.

They’re not after us. They’re after him—

The icecat lunged, and this time Caldera couldn’t block it. Constructs are strong, but they’re predictable. I plotted its course and managed to get my leg up in time; my heel met its head and the force of the construct’s leap crushed its head into my shoe. Pain shot up my leg and I thumped back against the wall, but the impact twisted the construct’s body around; it would have broken any normal animal’s neck, and it was actually enough to stagger it for a second.

Caldera grabbed it before it could recover. As it struggled she lifted it in both hands, then broke it over her knee. It twisted and went still.

I felt a flare of space magic from the back garden.

A gate formed just outside the gate wards of the house, and something came through, massive and heavy. I felt the floor shift, trembling, first once and then again. I switched perspective, viewing the future in which I moved right to peer around the corner—

A giant hulking shape was right outside the picture window, nearly eight feet tall, ambient light gleaming off a polished body. It was shaped like an insect but moved with the precision of well-oiled machinery. Light caught on its eyes and on the blades and weapons in its arms, and as a triple-jointed leg came down through the broken window, the floor shook, first in the future and a second later in the present. The window frame shattered as it came through without slowing, its head taking out a chunk of plaster where the frame met the wall.

Mantis golem.

Oh, fuck.

Caldera was already facing the thing, and I felt her eyes go wide as it came around the corner. It swivelled towards her, the two of them facing each other in the darkened living room. Caldera is big, muscle and earth magic giving her the strength of stone, but compared to the construct towering over her she looked like a child. Mage and golem looked at each other, less than five feet apart.

Caldera hesitated, just briefly.

“Run!” I shouted.

The kind of magic you can use isn’t something separate from you; it’s a part of who you are. It affects your thoughts, your desires . . . your instincts. Air mages, when they’re hurt or in danger, their first reaction is to break away, create space. Ice mages try to control the threat, lock it down. Fire mages attack. Earth mages . . . they defend and stand their ground.

Caldera stood her ground.

The golem struck, swords flashing out. Caldera ducked under the first swing and was about to punch when the golem’s second hand came up, holding some kind of cylindrical device; Caldera twisted aside as a beam of golden light shot down, burning a glowing line along the floor, then had to dodge again as a sword blow nearly took her head off.

Mantis golems have four arms, and this one was holding two one-handed swords, the laser projector, and some other weapon I didn’t recognise. No human can use that many weapons, but mantis golems aren’t human and they have the strength and the parallel processing to use all four arms at once. The golem wasn’t especially fast, and its strikes didn’t have its full body weight behind them, but every one of its arms was attacking Caldera simultaneously and independently, like some kind of lethal golden windmill. No sooner had Caldera blocked one attack than she had to dodge the next.

I hesitated, caught between Leo and Caldera. I didn’t want to fight this thing, but if I left Caldera alone—

A grey shape darted behind the golem, turned its blue eyes onto Leo, and lunged. I’d forgotten about the other icecat. Leo screamed; I tried to get my focus up in time but the angle was wrong and I was thrown onto Leo with the icecat on top of me.

For a few seconds everything was chaos. The icecat was raking with its claws, trying to shred through me to get to Leo; Leo was screaming; I was swearing and striking with elbows and knees, the floor shaking as Caldera fought the golem. A future of my arm being burnt off flashed before my eyes; I twisted right and the golden beam of the laser seared a glowing line along the floor. Leo broke away, dashing for the door; the icecat bounded after him and I grabbed it, hanging on grimly. The icecat dragged me a couple more steps, then the futures flipped as it switched targets and turned on me, jaws opening wide to bite at my head.

I’d been ready for it. My dispel focus was in my free hand, and as the head came round I rammed the spike right through the construct’s eye. The focus discharged and the icecat spasmed, throwing me back. The spell animating the cat construct flickered and died. Icy claws raked the floor, then went still.

I looked up to see Leo fumbling with the front door. “Leo,” I shouted at him. “Stay here!”

Leo shot me a terrified glance, then pulled the door open and ran out into the street.

I swore and went after him. To my left, Caldera somehow got through the whirlwind of steel and landed a solid blow on the golem’s armour; plates cracked but a sword came around before she could pull back and I heard her grunt. I made it to the front door—

—and ducked back as a force blast nearly took my head off. Leo was out there but someone else was too, and the force mage was in the cover of a station wagon across the street. There was something going on, but as I looked back I saw that Caldera was struggling. The golem was pressing down on her, a golden swirl of death. I could go after Leo or help Caldera, but I couldn’t do both.

I hesitated a second . . . then turned back to Caldera, bending as I did to yank my focus out of the icecat. The mantis golem brought all its weapons to bear, striking at Caldera with three limbs at once. Caldera blocked a downward slash, ducked under the laser, and almost dodged the stab. It didn’t impale her, but blood sprayed and Caldera staggered and went down. The golem moved in to finish her off.

I charged with a shout. Futures shifted as the golem retargeted on me, and I felt a spike of terror as the golden eyes turned to look down at me. I feinted at the golem; for a second I had it on the defensive, then it moved into its attack routine.

All of a sudden the futures were a whirl of violent deaths, all of them mine. Move that way and I’d be impaled; move the other way and I’d have a severed arm; stand still and the laser would burn a hole through my chest. I ducked and dodged, staying half a step ahead of the gleaming blades. I caught flickers of futures in which I hit the golem, and none of them did anything. My dispel focus wasn’t recharged, and even if it had been, it wouldn’t even scratch a monster like this. I’d forgotten all thoughts of Leo, or the force mage who’d been shooting at me, or the ice mage who was still lurking around. My world had narrowed to the next two seconds, and nothing more.

The left sword came at my head and I half-parried with my forearm. Even using the angle to limit the blow, I felt the shock go up my arm, sending me lurching back. There’s this terrifying sense of power to golems, a kind of smooth, unstoppable force. So many of the machines we meet on a daily basis have checks, safeguards; it’s easy to forget how lethal they are until one’s turned against you. The laser fired and I ducked, letting the beam pass an inch or two over my shoulder, feeling the air heat and seeing the armour of the golem’s body backlit in the glow. Caldera was somewhere behind but I couldn’t take the half second to check. The golem still hadn’t used the device on its fourth arm: it looked like a torch with a gaping barrel. No time to study more closely. Swing, sword thrust, laser. Dodge and block and twist. There was a rhythm to the attacks, and I fell into it, matching the golem’s movements like a dance, and for a moment I was holding my own.

But only for a moment. I’m losing. Had to change tactics. Couldn’t break its armour. What to do?

Evade. Run.

I stepped into the next swing, catching the golem’s sword arm. The blow was too powerful to stop and I let it lift me, pushing off the ground to let the golem swing me around like a roundabout. The golem stepped back, twisting, trying to bring its weapons to bear, and with the moment’s breather I pulled a condenser from my pocket and smashed it against the wall.

Mist rushed out, filling the room, and suddenly all I could see was the shadow of the wall and the construct’s golden body. It swung again and I ducked past; two steps brought me out of its visual range and I felt the futures in which it killed me fray and scatter. The futures opened up again and I could see where I was going.

Caldera was against the other wall, struggling to rise. I caught a glimpse of her side through her torn clothes; blood, a dark gash, something peeking through. I threw her arm over my shoulder, heaving her up. “This way,” I whispered. “Quiet.”

Caldera resisted for a second, then let me guide her. “Where is it?” she muttered. She was still half dazed and her voice was loud in the mist.

There was the sound of creaking metal and the floor shook as the golem zeroed in on the noise. I switched direction, pulled a stumbling Caldera to one side; a massive golden shadow loomed up, appearing out of the fog and disappearing again. The lines of its future didn’t turn to intersect ours; it hadn’t detected us. I held my finger to my lips and this time Caldera stayed quiet.

We’d reached the stairs. The golem was no more than ten feet away but it couldn’t see us. Constructs aren’t sapient, and they’re very bad at dealing with unexpected situations. The golem had been sent into the house with a simple directive: kill us both. Now it couldn’t detect either of its primary targets, and following the voices hadn’t worked. It paused, waiting for input.

I led Caldera up the stairs. A future flashed up of a stair creaking under Caldera’s weight, and the golem hearing and lasering us through the wall; I caught Caldera’s shoulder, signalled for her to place her foot to one side. Blessedly, she didn’t argue. The mist thinned and vanished as we made it up into the hallway.

The light was still on in the room where the icecat had attacked, and I led Caldera into the other one. She was silent and favouring one side. “How bad are you?” I whispered.

“Managing,” Caldera muttered.

I looked sceptically at Caldera. She wasn’t trying to order me around. Bad sign. “I don’t think that golem can get up the stairs, so if you don’t mind, I’d kind of prefer to stay up here. You might be able to fight that thing, but I’d just as soon not go another round with it.”

Caldera didn’t answer for a second and I wondered if she’d spotted what I was doing, but she didn’t push it. “Leo?”

“Panicked and ran out the front door.” I hesitated. “The force mage was right there. No way he could have missed him.”

Caldera glared. “I told you to stay with him.”

I looked away, stung. I wanted to make excuses—I’d been tied up fighting the icecat, I’d gone back to help her—but on the facts, she was right. Guarding Leo had been my job.

“Where are they?” Caldera said.

“Ice mage is in the back garden.” I kept my voice very low. The golem was really damn close, and that laser could easily pierce the floor. “Lost the force mage. Golem’s still waiting.”

“What if we make a break for—?”

“Bad idea,” I said. I’d been looking at the futures in which we did exactly that. “The street doesn’t have enough cover—with you hurt, they’d chase us down and pick us off. Only reason they haven’t done it already is they aren’t sure where we are.”

Caldera paused for a second, and I could sense her flicking through plans. “All right,” she said. “We’re going to have to stall them. I’ll—”

The futures shifted. I took one glance at them and my heart sank. I caught Caldera’s arm and pulled her towards the bedroom.

One of the few silver linings to these sorts of situations is that you learn pretty quick whether someone trusts you. Even wounded, there was no way I could have moved Caldera if she didn’t want to be moved, but after one startled glance she let me drag her inside.

There was a weird low-pitched noise, like a deep cough.

I twisted around. Through the doorway and out in the hall, where there had been carpet, now there was a big circular hole in the floor. Through it, I could see the mist-filled living room. As I watched, there was another cough and most of what was left of the hallway disintegrated into dust.

From below, I felt the vibrations as the golem moved and turned. The cough came a third time, then a fourth. There was nothing left of the hallway: if we stepped out of the bedroom we’d fall straight into the room below.

“Well,” I said quietly. “I guess now we know what that fourth weapon does.”

“What the fuck is that?” Caldera whispered.

There was another cough, followed by another. It wasn’t going directly towards us . . . yet. “Disintegration cannon. Wonder why it didn’t use it earlier. Maybe it’s got too slow a charge-up time. Or it could be one of those spells that needs the target to be stationary to—”

“Did you hit your head?” Caldera hissed. “Focus!”

“We all have our ways of dealing with stressful situations,” I said absently. Most of my attention was on plotting out futures. “It’s going to shoot the floor out from underneath us. Probably collapse the house.”

More coughs sounded. The golem was destroying the small guest room in which we’d found Leo, one section of floor at a time. We’d gotten lucky that it had decided to start there. Not too lucky, though. Our room was next.

Caldera hesitated one second, then lowered her head. “Fuck it.” Her voice was harsh. “We fight.”

“No.”

“We don’t have—”

I didn’t raise my voice. I often get calmer in really dangerous situations. “If you go down there, you’ll die.”

“You don’t—”

“I do know that, and that’s without the ice mage interfering. He wouldn’t have ordered the golem to force a confrontation like this unless he knew he’d win.”

“Then—”

“Our best chance is to wait for backup. And no, I haven’t seen it coming, I’m still looking. Please let me concentrate.”

“When are—?” Caldera started to ask, then stopped.

Another series of coughs. The light in the next room blinked out and the house went dark. One of the shots must have cut the power cable. There was a groaning sound and a rumbling crash that I could feel through the floorboards. The floor shifted under my feet.

Caldera snatched a look out into the hall. “Mist’s clearing,” she said in a low voice.

“I know.”

“Got another?”

“No.” I don’t stockpile condensers—they work best when they’re fresh. I’d lost two in the battle with Chamois, and the one I’d just used had been my last. I kept scanning through the futures. There was some sort of disturbance up ahead, something like . . .

. . . fire?

Now I just needed to figure out how to keep us alive until they got here.

The coughing sound came again and the wall ahead of us shuddered. “I think I’m going to have to go keep that thing busy,” I told Caldera. “Wait up here, okay?”

Caldera glared at me. “Screw that!”

The wall shuddered again. A few more shots and it would collapse. “Stay in the corner,” I told Caldera. “When that wall goes it’ll take down most of the floor, except for the far corner. As long as you stay there, you won’t fall.”

“If you—”

“You’re hurt, I’m not.” I kept my voice calm. “I’ve fought these things before; I can stall it for a little while. We just need to survive another forty seconds.”

Caldera hesitated. I don’t know much about medicine, and I hadn’t had a close look at Caldera’s wound, but I’d seen the futures in which she tried to fight the golem, and they’d been brief and messy. We didn’t have time to talk it through. “Stay back,” I said, and walked to the edge.

There was a final cough. The wall groaned and collapsed, taking the section of floor I was on with it. I’d been ready for it and rode it down, jumping off at the last second to land in the living room, rolling to soften the fall.

I came up to see the golem turning to face me. Plaster dust was in the air, and broken drywall littered the floor. Taking down the wall hadn’t collapsed the house, not quite, but it wouldn’t take much more. Caldera was hidden by the remains of the ceiling. From the back garden I heard a yell, then the golem moved to attack.

The laser burned a line across the carpet as I dodged right. The golem approached, swords coming down, and I backed away. The living room flashed, lit in the glow of spells from outside: red, blue, red again. I couldn’t take the time to look and see. All my attention was focused on the mantis golem.

The laser fired again and again, a glowing golden line of death. I stepped aside from each blast, calculating how to position myself to dodge the next. The golem was herding me, pushing me towards the corner. The spells from outside had stopped; the dust in the air was cutting the visibility but I could see the futures that were approaching and knew what I had to do. Just need a little distraction . . . I stepped forward to go under the next laser blast, letting myself be drawn into melee range. The golem’s swords came down.

I jumped away, backpedalling, thumping into the wall. The golem adjusted its aim to focus on me, the laser emitter sighting on my chest.

Light bloomed from behind the golem. A blast of flame stabbed out, washing off the construct’s back.

The golem halted, turned. A figure strode out of the dust, wreathed in flame. The fire around it hid its form; all I could make out was a vaguely humanoid shape with glowing eyes. A second blast hit the golem before it could finish turning around. This one was narrower, more focused, a near-white beam the width of two fingers that was too bright to look at. It burnt into the golem and I saw armour glowing and melting, molten gold spattering to the floor.

The golem fired, but as it did the figure raised a hand. The laser struck the fiery shape, hit a shield. The golden line fuzzed and faded. The white-hot beam didn’t. It kept going, burning into the golem. The golem took one stride forward, then its back went white and the beam burst all the way through, streaming out the other side. The heat was so intense that I had to shield my face. Through my fingers I saw the golem jerk, shudder. The beam sawed, melting the golem from the inside out.

With a groan the golem fell, toppling with a crash that shook the house. Just for an instant I saw something expand from the metal body, stretching, sinking into the floor, then it was gone. The golem’s remains lay still and some light seemed to have vanished from its golden eyes.

The fiery shape turned to me and I nearly flinched. It looked like a man sculpted from flame, invulnerable, godlike. Fires had broken out all around it, licking at its feet. For a moment I felt as though I were facing down some sort of fire spirit, not a human being.

Then all of a sudden the flame shield winked out and Landis was standing there. He was dressed in some sort of close-fitting body armour I didn’t recognise, and he looked brisk and full of energy. “Verus! Glad to see you made it, good job on the distraction. What’s your status?”

The floor around Landis’s feet was on fire. He didn’t seem to have noticed, and I dragged my eyes away. “Caldera’s hurt,” I said. Adrenaline was still pumping through me and I wanted to move, to fight. “The kid we were protecting, he ran that way. We need to find him.”

“Leaving some of the fun for us, eh?” Landis said cheerfully. He turned just as another fiery shape came out of the smoke behind him. Again the fire hid the person’s features, but I recognised the signature of the magic and I knew it was Variam. “He’s running,” Variam said. “Do we chase?”

“Not this time, we’ve got a civilian to find. Description, Verus?”

“His name’s Leo. Boy, about ten, thin, blond hair. Wearing jeans and a black top. There was a force mage covering the door. He’s gone, but—”

Landis was already heading for the door. Variam followed. “Shield off, Vari, there’s a good lad. Standard cover. Verus, you stay with Caldera and take a breather. We’ll take it from here.” They disappeared out into the street.

I was left alone in the wreckage of the living room. Flames were still licking around and I tried to find a way to climb back up to the first floor.

It took me a minute, and by the time I made it up, I found Caldera slumped on the bed. Blood had soaked through the side of her jacket and into the bedclothes. “Caldera.” I kept my voice low. “Can you hear me?”

“Not like I could miss it, way you talk,” Caldera muttered. “Was that Landis . . . ?”

“It was him.” Not good. I hadn’t realised how badly hurt Caldera was; she must have been forcing herself to keep going. “Vari’s here too. We should be safe.”

“Didn’t call for Order of the Shield.” Caldera’s eyes opened; she stared at me suspiciously. “Should have been Star.”

I sighed. “Seriously? You’re going to give me a hard time about this now?”

“You were on your phone. When I took the kid down . . .” Caldera sighed and closed her eyes. “Never follow orders, do you . . .”

“Yeah, well, you can shout at me later.” I was looking Caldera over. The gash on her shoulder didn’t look bad—it was the side wound I was worried about. How deep was it? “We need to get you some help.”

“Already called for—”

“On your com disc, I know. I think we can give up on that, all right? You guys must have backup ways of getting in touch. Phone number?”

“There’s a number.” Caldera didn’t open her eyes. “For emergencies.”

“You think this might qualify?”

“I’ll read it. Type it in.”

I made the call. It took longer than it should have to convince the woman on the other end that I was who I said I was. Finally I just passed the phone over to Caldera and let her give the authentication code. By the time it was done I could hear the strain in Caldera’s voice.

At last it was done and Caldera hung up. “Hate those people,” she muttered. “Bureaucrats . . .”

Caldera was still slumped on the bed; she’d stopped moving except when she had to, and when she’d lifted the phone to her ear I’d seen that it had hurt her. “You doing okay?”

“You always ask such stupid questions?”

“Yeah, I’ve got the feeling it might be a good idea to keep you talking until the medics get here.” I could still smell smoke; it wasn’t getting any fainter. “Oh, and I don’t want to worry you, but just so you know, the house is on fire.”

“Lovely.”

“On the plus side, I don’t think it’s going to collapse in the next ten minutes.”

“You know,” Caldera said, “even by my standards, this was a really shitty night out.”

“Oh, come on,” I said. “Quiet neighbourhood, door-to-door entertainment . . . there’s even romantic candlelight.”

“My ribs are sticking out of my side.”

“You did say you wanted a match against someone who could challenge you.”

“Does this happen every time you go out with someone?”

“Hey, at least I’m not a boring date.”

Smoke rose from the floor below, ash drifting up into the night. We sat together in the ruined house as I searched through the futures, looking to see when help would arrive.