Luna nodded. “Sometimes. When there’s something I’m really afraid of. It’s like a part of me reaches out and touches it, and it’s gone.”
“Huh.” I sat back. I’d always thought Luna’s curse was a passive thing, but what Luna had just said made me wonder. Being able to feel it that clearly…
“She said she had my address, didn’t she?”
I’d been reaching for the glass of water on my desk. As Luna spoke I went still, then picked up the glass and took a drink, hoping she hadn’t noticed the pause. This wasn’t something I wanted to tell her. “Yes.”
Luna was silent for a second. “The man I got the cube from doesn’t know where I live,” she said at last. “He knows my number, but…Oh, of course. My name. They could have looked my address up with that.” She shook her head and looked up. “Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter much. I can’t go home, can I?”
I let out a breath. “No. They’ll be at your flat by now.”
“They won’t hurt anyone else in my building, will they?”
“It’s not your neighbours you should be worried about! These people are dangerous!”
Luna nodded. “I know.”
I put a hand to my head and sighed. “I’m sorry. I should never have gotten you into this. If I’d known you’d turn up something that would get you involved in this stuff—”
“No. This is what I want.”
I stared. “Luna,” I said carefully. “If those three catch you, they’ll quite likely kill you. You understand that, right?”
Luna looked back at me steadily, her clear eyes looking into mine, then she dropped her gaze and traced her finger around the rim of her mug. “When you called me this morning, you were afraid I wasn’t going to come, weren’t you?”
“I—” I checked. “How did you know that?”
“You always tell me how dangerous your world is,” Luna said. “It’s like you think you need to warn me off.” She dipped the tip of her finger into the tea and looked at it. “It doesn’t bother me, you know.”
“Luna—”
Luna looked up to meet my gaze. “If those three are going to be chasing someone, it’s better that it should be me, isn’t it? I mean, if I were a normal girl, they’d have caught me back there.”
I stared at her.
“So,” Luna said at last. “You said you needed me to run a test? I mean, before we got distracted.”
“I—” I let out a breath. “All right.” The cube was sitting on the coffee table in between us, looking ordinary and dull in the morning light. “Try picking that up.”
Luna nodded and obeyed. The cube swung between her fingers as she looked at it, then gave me a glance.
I grabbed a pencil and paper and scribbled a word, then pushed it across the coffee table, taking care to keep my distance. “This is a general-purpose command word. Hold up the cube and say it.”
Luna waited for me to sit back, then reached forward and picked up the paper. To my eyes the silvery mist of her curse engulfed the paper as she studied it, frowning slightly. The cube hung silent in her other hand, the silver mist sliding off it without sinking in. Imbued items have a will of their own. Until they decide to use their power, they’re nothing but blunt objects. One way to get an imbued item to obey you is to find the item’s special purpose and bring it to bear somehow. If you don’t know the item’s purpose, you’re out of luck; the item won’t obey anyone except its master.
But if you can guess who its master might be…
“Annath,” Luna said.
Light flowed from the cube and in an instant the gloomy room was lit up in red and white. The crystal surrounding the core glowed with energy and thin lines of light sprang outwards, playing over the sofa, the table, the walls. For one instant, Luna was backlit in the glow, holding the cube aloft, her eyes lifted up in wonder.
Then the light snapped out, and the room was back to normal. Luna dropped the cube and it bounced, came to rest on the sofa cushions, and sat quietly. Luna twisted around and stared down at it. There was a moment of silence.
I let out a breath. “Okay then.”
“What was that?”
I got to my feet. “Luna, it’s going to be better if you’re somewhere very hard to find for a while. I’ll explain along the way.”
chapter 5
I explained along the way, and carried on explaining. Luna kept asking questions and didn’t stop, long after I expected her to go quiet. It was as though now that she’d finally gotten me to open up, she wanted to learn everything she possibly could.
Learning about magic’s dark side is a major tipping point for newcomers, and the way they react tells you a lot about who they are. Some freak out completely—once they realise that messing with this stuff can get them killed, they run and never come back. Others just get a bad case of the shakes and adjust bit by bit. I’ve seen the whole range—or at least I thought I had. But Luna had been near-missed by Dark mages twice in as many days, and she’d just learnt that they weren’t going to stop until they found her, yet she hadn’t turned a hair. Why was she so calm?
I think it was at that point I first realised just how little I really knew about Luna. I’d always focused on her curse—how it worked, whether I could do anything to fix it. I’d never learnt what really made her tick.
“So there are lots of those spells?” Luna was asking. “Could they find me another way?”
“Easily,” I said. We were walking up a grassy hill, avoiding the path to keep clear of people. A pair of students were throwing a Frisbee off to our left, and dogs ran across the meadow. “But most of the powerful ways to track someone take time. If they’re smart they’ll stake out your flat while they put something together.”
“Will my curse help?”
“Chance magic needs some randomness to work with. If they get something that can find you reliably enough, there’s not much it can do.”
Up ahead, a family was laughing and tramping downhill on the path. We fell silent briefly as we waited for them to go by, letting Luna give them a wide berth. “I still don’t see why this thing with the cube makes a difference, though,” Luna said once they were gone. We crossed over and headed for the woods on the other side. “Why does it matter whether I can use it?”
“It’s more than that. I spent three hours last night playing with that thing and didn’t even get a flicker. You touched it and it obeyed you straightaway. Imbued items choose their wielder. I’m pretty sure that for anyone but you, that cube’s nothing but a piece of glass.” I left unsaid the question of why it had picked her, mainly because I didn’t have any idea myself.
“You said they wouldn’t know that—”
“They probably don’t know that. But they obviously know more about that thing than we do. Maybe they know it’ll only bond with one person.”
“Why does that make a difference, though?” Luna asked. We’d entered the woods and were away now from the bulk of the crowds. The trees were just starting to come into bloom, and birds sang cheerfully from the branches. “I mean, either they’re hunting me because they think I’ve got the cube, or because they think I can use it. Either way…”
“It means that no matter what happens, this isn’t going to be over quickly. One way or another, they’re going to keep looking for you until something makes them stop.”
Luna paused and we walked a little way in silence. “Okay,” she said at last. “So what are we doing here?”
The two of us were standing on Hampstead Heath, the biggest park in inner London—and the most beautiful, at least in my opinion. Regent’s Park is probably more famous, but it’s a bit too cultivated for me. The Heath’s just wild enough to be interesting. On a Saturday afternoon like today, it’s swarming with men, women, children, and dogs, doing everything from having picnics to flying kites. At first glance it’s not the place you’d expect to find anything magical, but as I said, it’s wild while still being in the city. For some people, that’s a useful combination
. “I need some clothes for a party,” I said. “You need somewhere to hide. This is the only place I know we can get both.”
Even with all the people who use the Heath, it has its secrets, and we’d come to one of them. A driedup stream had carved a ravine out of the earth, the sides rough and uneven. An oak tree grew on the top of the bank, its roots reaching down the slope. Although we could still hear the sounds of people around us, the banks and the growing trees hid us from them. Of course, the other reason no one was here was that there wasn’t anything to see.
Luna looked around at the earth and trees. “Here?”
I smiled. “Watch.”
The roots of the oak tree made a tangle in front of us. I studied them for a second, then reached out and placed two fingers on one of them. “Arachne?” I said to the tree. “It’s Alex. Can we come in?”
There was a brief pause, then Luna jumped as a voice came out of thin air. “Alex, dear! Come right inside. Find a seat in the dressing room while I finish up.”
There was a rumble of moving earth, and both of us stepped quickly back. The hillside seemed to shudder as the roots of the oak tree began to move, twisting aside and up, dripping dirt and bits of dry earth across the ravine, revealing a gaping space beyond. As the rumbling quietened, the roots wove themselves into the shape of an archway. Within was only darkness.
I gestured to Luna. “After you.”
Luna hesitated for only a second before walking in. I followed, ducking my head, and with another rumble the roots closed behind us.
Like I said, one of the tipping points for newcomers is learning about the dark side of magic. Another is when they start meeting creatures out of myths and legends. The issue is learning not to judge by appearances.
Human beings tend to react better to good-looking people. It’s called the halo effect—someone’s attractive, so you trust them more. It’s natural, which makes it a hard habit to break, but once you start dealing with magical creatures you’d better learn to break it, and fast, because some of the most vicious things out there can make themselves look like absolute angels. Like unicorns. Don’t get me started on unicorns. For some reason everyone has this idealised image of them as beautiful innocent snowflakes. Beautiful, yes. Innocent, no. After you’ve had one of the little bastards try and kebab you, you wise up quick.
But it goes the other way, too. There are things in the dark corners of the world that look like the nightmare children of Stephen King and H. P. Lovecraft. Just looking at them is enough to make any sane person run screaming, but if you’re brave or stupid or savvy enough to stop and talk to one, you’ll find to your surprise that you can get along okay. They’re not safe, of course; nothing in the magical world is really safe. But you can talk with them and trust them as well as the humans you meet here, and often better.
I tried to explain this in a halting sort of way to Luna as we walked towards Arachne’s cave. “She sells clothes?” Luna asked.
“The best. Most mages won’t use them, though.”
“Are they too expensive?”
“It’s…how she looks.”
“She’s ugly?”
“Not exactly. Just brace yourself for when you meet her.”
The tunnel we were walking down felt dark after the sunlit heath. Now that my eyes had adjusted, I could see the blue glowing spheres mounted in the corners of the tunnel that marked the path. The floor had been packed dirt at the tunnel mouth, but now it was stone, worn smooth by running water and polished to a sheen by generations of footsteps. The grey tunnel sloped downwards, twisted, and opened into an oval chamber blazing with colours.
The room was filled with couches and chairs, and every flat surface was covered with lengths of cloth, from finger-length ribbons to bolts the size of rolled carpets. Dummies and hangers were mounted on the walls, and every single one held clothes of some kind, from suits to tops to full-length dresses, in every colour from red to yellow to green to blue to violet. I’ve been to Arachne’s cave dozens of times and every time I practically have to shield my eyes as I walk in. It’s like watching a flock of birds of paradise holding a fashion parade on a rainbow. Across the far end of the room, practically invisible in the riot of colour, was a translucent curtain. Rustling sounds came from within.
“Alex, dear!” The voice came from behind the curtain. Up closer you can just hear the clicking sound under Arachne’s voice, though it’s faint enough that you wouldn’t notice unless you knew what to listen for. “Where have you been? Clear off a couch and sit down…Is that a guest?”
“This is Luna,” I called back. I heaved an armload of clothes off the nearest couch to give Luna space. Luna was so busy staring that she didn’t notice.
“What a pretty name. Hello, Luna, can you hear me?”
“Um, it’s nice to meet you,” Luna called. She moved to a chair and traced a finger down a pale green ribbon, then tested it between her fingers, looking at it curiously.
“Are you wondering what they’re made of?” Arachne called, and Luna dropped the cloth with a start. “Everyone does, you know.”
“Um, yes.” Luna touched the ribbon again, fascinated. “Is it silk? I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Arachne laughed, and again there was that odd clicking noise. “Almost. Not the kind you’re thinking, though…Well, then, Alex, if you’re here, I expect you want something, hmm?”
“Yup. The ball at Canary Wharf.”
“My, my. That’s tonight.”
“Invitation was late. Got anything lying around?”
“Oh, good heavens, Alex,” Arachne said, and I could hear the exasperation in her voice. “Well, at least you’ve got the sense to come here. Let’s have a look.” There was a shadow of movement behind the curtain, then Arachne emerged, and for the first time Luna got a good look at her.
Arachne is about the size of a minivan and weighs maybe half a ton. Her body is black, with a cobalt blue sheen that glimmers slightly when she moves, and she has eight eyes in two rows of four at the front of her head. Each one of her eight legs has seven hairy segments, ending in tips where the hairs are finer and can act almost like fingers. Two mandibles hide her fangs and rustle slightly as she talks, making the clicking sound.
In other words, she’s a gigantic spider. Arachne is quite safe—well, more or less—but she’s every arachnophobe’s worst nightmare, and even people who aren’t scared of spiders are likely to scream the house down the first time they meet a tarantula bigger than their car.
Luna didn’t scream, but the blood drained from her face, and her eyes went as big as dinner plates. “Alex?” she said, her voice very high.
“It’s all right,” I said reassuringly. “She won’t hurt you.”
“Alex, she’s a giant spider.”
“She won’t hurt you.”
“Alex, she’s a giant spider.”
“I know,” I said patiently. “She won’t hurt you.”
“Well?” Arachne said expectantly. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
Keeping a careful eye on Luna, I stepped forward. “Right. Arachne, this is Luna. She’s still pretty new to all this. Have you got somewhere she could sit down for a while?”
“Oh, of course.” Arachne scuttled sideways, and Luna jumped. Arachne beckoned down a side tunnel. “You look exhausted, dear. Why don’t you have a rest? Help yourself to something to eat. Don’t worry, it’s human food.”
“Alex?” Luna said again, keeping very still.
“It’s okay,” I said quietly. “Luna, trust me. You’re as safe here as anywhere.”
Luna gave me a look with very big eyes, then took a deep breath and edged across the room. She managed to make it past Arachne without flinching or screaming, and Arachne’s eight eyes followed her as she stepped sideways into the tunnel. She gave me one last nervous look and backed away.
“Well,” Arachne said brightly once Luna had gone. “She seems nice.”
“Sorry about that,” I said. “Like I
said, she’s—”
Arachne waved a foreleg. “Oh, I’m used to it. Now let me have a proper look at you.”
For something so big and heavy, Arachne is a lot faster than she has any right to be. She was looming over me almost before I knew she was moving, one leg on either side of me and eight black eyes looking down from above. This was why I’d wanted Luna out of the room. No matter how well she’d managed to control herself, I thought it would be best if Luna had a little time to calm down before she saw Arachne’s way of having a chat. It’s really not as threatening as it looks; Arachne just wanted to see me properly. She’s very nearsighted, and she’s most comfortable when she can use her sense of touch, which means her favourite way to talk to someone is to have them right between her front legs, under her fangs. I sat down on one of the couches and patted one of Arachne’s hairy legs. “Good to see you again.”
“And it’s nice to meet your friend at last. I’d wondered why you’d been so busy the last few months.”
Despite her looks Arachne smells nice, kind of like incense. Sitting next to her feels almost like being in a herbalist’s. “Well, that’s part of the reason we’re here.”
“That’s a nasty little weaving she has. You’ve been trying to unravel it, haven’t you?”
“You can see it?” I said in surprise, then shook my head. “Of course you would. Yeah, I’ve had a few tries. Didn’t work, though.”
“Of course not, it’s grown up with her. The spell’s woven into her pattern.”
“Any way to take it off?”
“Not without killing her.”
I sighed. “Kind of what I figured. Listen, you have to be careful not to get too close to her. The width of a room is fine, but any closer than that—”
Arachne gave a gentle hissing sound and her mandibles vibrated; her equivalent of laughing. “Silly child. A little weaving like that won’t hurt me.”
I looked up in surprise. “You can avoid it?”
“Now, before she gets back, why don’t you tell me why you’re going to the ball? I don’t remember you being one of the Council’s favourites.”
Alex Verus Novels, Books 1-4 (9780698175952) Page 8
