The creature we were hunting was called a barghest: a shapeshifter that can take the form of either a human or a great wolflike dog. They’ve got preternatural speed and strength, and they’re difficult to detect with normal or magical senses. Or so the stories say; I’ve never met one. But all the sources agreed that the creatures killed with claws and teeth, making these sort of dark, cramped quarters the absolute worst place to fight one. There were too many possible hiding places, too many ways the creature could lie in wait to attack from behind.
Of course, that was the reason Talisid had brought me along.
To my eyes, the factory existed on two levels. There was the present, a world of darkness and shadow, broken only by the torches in my hand and on Garrick’s rifle, looming obstacles blocking our path and the threat of danger around every corner. But overlaid upon that was a second world, a branching web of lines of glowing white light, the web branching over and over again through four dimensions, multiplying into thousands and millions of thinning wisps, every one a possible future. The futures of the corridor and the objects within it were fixed and solid, while my and Garrick’s futures were a constantly shifting web, flickering and twisting with every moment.
Looking through the futures I saw my possible actions, and their consequences. I saw myself stepping on the loose piece of scrap metal in front of me, saw myself tripping and falling, and corrected my movements to avoid it. As I did, the future in which I fell thinned to nothingness, never to exist, and the futures of me stepping around it brightened in its place. By seeing the future, I decided; as I decided, the future changed, and new futures replaced those never to happen. To anyone watching, it looks like pure fluke; every step in the right place, every hazard avoided without seeming to notice. But the obstacles were just a detail. Most of my attention was on the near and middle future, watching for the flurry of movement and weapons fire that would signal an attack. As long as I was paying attention, nothing in this factory could surprise us; long before anything got into position for an ambush, I could see it and give warning.
This was why Talisid had wanted me along. Just by being here, I could bring the chances of things going seriously wrong down to almost zero. Knowledge can’t win a battle, but it’s one hell of a force multiplier.
Something caught my attention as we passed through a doorway, and I signalled for Garrick to stop. He gave me a look but held up his hand and I heard the main body of the group halt behind us. I crouched and brushed a hand across the dusty floor, feeling the chill of the concrete.
“What is it?” Garrick said at last.
“Someone forced this door,” I said, keeping my voice quiet. “Not long ago either.”
“Could have been the barghest.”
I held up a broken link of chain. The outside was rusted but the edge where it had been broken glinted in Garrick’s torch. “Not unless our barghest uses bolt cutters.”
Garrick raised an eyebrow and we moved on. I didn’t mention the second thing that had been out of place: The rest of the chain had been taken away.
We moved deeper into the factory. Garrick and I were on point with two of the security men ten paces behind. Talisid and Ilmarin walked in the centre of the formation, the last of the Council security bringing up the rear. When I sensed that the barghest was near, I was to withdraw and let the mages and soldiers move up into a combat formation, ready to take it by surprise. At least, that was the plan.
Things weren’t going to plan. By now I should have sensed where and how the fight was going to start. Looking forward into the future, I could see us searching every room of the factory, yet there wasn’t any sign of combat. In fact, I couldn’t see any future in which any of us got into combat. I could feel the men behind us growing tense; they knew something was wrong. The only one who seemed unconcerned was Garrick, radiating relaxed confidence. Had Talisid’s information been wrong? He’d been certain this was the place …
Around the next corner was a bigger room with a high ceiling and again I signalled for the others to stop. I closed my eyes and concentrated. Searching for combat wasn’t working. Instead I started following the paths of our group through the timeline, looking to see what we would find. Something in the next chamber would occupy everyone’s attention, and I looked more closely to see what it was …
And suddenly I knew why there wasn’t going to be any fighting tonight. I straightened with a noise of disgust and called back to Talisid, no longer making any effort to keep my voice down. “It’s a bust.”
There was a pause, then I heard Talisid answer. “What’s wrong?”
“We came here for nothing,” I said. “Somebody beat us to it.” I walked around the corner and out onto the factory floor.
Most of the machinery on the floor looked to have been removed or cannibalised for parts long ago, but a few pieces were still rusting in the gloom, piles of rubbish in between. My torch cast only a weak glow in the darkness, the beam of light disappearing up into the wide-open ceiling, and my footsteps echoed in the silence as I picked my way through broken boards and half-full plastic bags. The smell of dust and old metal was stronger here, this time with something underneath it that made my nose twitch.
The barghest was lying in the centre of the room, and it was dead. With its life gone, it looked like a grey-brown dog, big but not unnaturally so. It was lying on its side, eyes closed, with no blood or visible wounds. There was no smell of decay; it obviously hadn’t been there long.
The others moved up into the room, following me. Garrick came up to my side. Although his weapon was lowered, his eyes kept moving, checking the corners and upper levels of the room. Only once he’d swept the area did he look down at the body. “Doesn’t look like much.”
“Not any more it’s not.”
The next two security men reached us, followed by Talisid and Ilmarin, and we formed a circle around the creature. They made a lot more noise than Garrick, as if they didn’t know where to place their feet. “Well,” Talisid said at last.
“It’s dead?” Ilmarin asked me.
“It’s not getting up any time in the next few years,” I said. “Yeah, it’s dead.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Garrick said, “but I thought the mission was to kill this thing.”
“Looks like someone else had the same idea.”
“Can’t find any wounds,” Ilmarin said. Air mages are great at sensing movement but not so good with objects. “Verus, any idea what killed it?”
I’d been looking through the futures of me searching the body of this thing, watching myself rolling it over and running my hands through its fur. All I’d found was that it was heavy and smelt bad. Actually, I didn’t need my magic to notice that it smelt bad. “No wounds, no blood. Looks like it just dropped dead.”
“Death magic?”
“Maybe. Anything from the living family could do it.”
Talisid had been studying the body; now he looked at me. “Is there any danger in splitting up?”
I looked through the futures for a few seconds, then shook my head. “This place is a graveyard. The only way anyone’s going to get hurt is if they fall off the catwalks.”
Talisid nodded and turned to the others. “Spread out and search in pairs. Look for anything unusual.” Although he didn’t raise his voice, there was a note of command that assumed he would be obeyed. “Check in every ten minutes and we’ll meet back here in an hour.”
Somehow or other I ended up with Garrick. We worked our way through the factory’s ground floor, searching methodically.
The bodies of the barghest’s victims were in a side room off from the factory floor. There were seven, in varying states of decay. I didn’t look too closely.
“Had an appetite,” Garrick remarked once we’d left the room and called it in.
“That’s why we came,” I said. I was trying not to think about the corpses.
“Really?” Garrick looked mildly interested. “My contract was to make sure it was dea
d.”
“Looks like someone did your job for you.”
Garrick shrugged. “I get paid the same either way.” He gave me a glance. “So how far into the future can you see?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
I returned Garrick’s gaze. “On who’s asking.”
Garrick looked back at me, then gave a very slight smile. It made me think of an amused wolf.
I went back to the factory floor and found Talisid. “The bodies are in the second room off the back corridor. Nothing else worth checking.”
Talisid nodded. “I’ve called in the cleanup crew. You may as well take off.”
I looked at the barghest’s body, still undisturbed amidst the rubble. “Sorry I couldn’t help more.”
Talisid shrugged. “The problem’s been dealt with.”
“Even though we didn’t do anything?”
“Does it matter?” Talisid said. “There’ll be no more killings and we took no losses.” He smiled slightly. “I’d call this good enough.”
I sighed. “I guess you’re right. Did you find anything else?”
Talisid’s smile faded into a frown. “Yes. Scorch marks on the walls and signs of weapons fire. Several places.”
I looked at Talisid. “A battle?”
“It seems that way.”
I nodded at the barghest. “But that thing wasn’t burnt or shot.”
“Not as far as we can tell.”
“So what happened here?”
Talisid surveyed the dark room, sweeping his gaze over the rusting factory floor. With everyone else gone the place looked like it had been abandoned for a hundred years, and once we left there would be no trace of our visit but for footprints. This was no place for living people, not anymore. “We’ll probably never know,” Talisid said at last, and gave me a nod. “Good night, Verus.”
I left the factory, passed Talisid’s new Mercedes, and turned right at the corner of the street. I walked half a block, turned back towards the river again, then slipped down an alleyway next to a dark, squarish building. A fire escape took me up to the roof.
Stepping onto the roof felt like coming out of the woods. The Thames was just a stone’s throw away, the vastness of the river winding past like an enormous serpent, forming a huge meander around the Isle of Dogs. Surrounded by the Thames were the skyscrapers of Canary Wharf, reaching up into the night, shining from a thousand points, the white double strobe of the central tower flashing regularly once a second. The lights of the skyscrapers reflected off the black water, forming a second set of towers that seemed to reach down into the darkness. Off to the west I could see the lights of Whitehall and the West End and the landmarks of central London. I could still hear the sounds of the city, but this close to the Thames it was almost drowned out by the rhythmic shhhh of the water, the waves lapping against the banks as the water continued its steady flow out to sea. The air carried the scent of the river, not pure, but not unpleasant either.
“It’s me,” I said into the darkness.
There was a moment’s pause, and then a girl stepped out from the shadow of the building. She was a touch below medium height, with wavy brown hair held up in two bunches, and had a careful, deliberate way of moving, always looking where she was going. Her age would have been hard to guess—she looked perhaps twenty-one, but there was a distance in her manner that didn’t match her youth. Her name was Luna Mancuso and she was my apprentice.
“It’s cold,” Luna said with a shiver. She was dressed warmly, in a green pullover and faded jeans, but it was September and there was a chill breeze blowing off the water.
“There’s a warmer spot down in the alley.”
Luna followed me quickly, leaving her corner perch. The roof of the building had a clear view down onto the factory, which was why I’d picked it. If anything had gone wrong, I’d told her to get out. “Did you get a count?”
“You went in with six others. That was it.”
“Did you see anyone else?”
“No. Was there?”
“No.”
The alleyway bent through an S shape at the bottom of the fire escape, leaving a corner sheltered from the wind, obscured by machinery and old boxes. It was the kind of place that would make most people afraid of being mugged, but one of the fringe benefits of being a mage is that you don’t have to worry much about that kind of thing. A pair of hot-water pipes ran vertically into the concrete, raising the temperature a few degrees, and I let Luna huddle against them, keeping my distance. There was space for me, but that would mean coming within arm’s reach of Luna. “What was I watching for?” Luna asked.
“No idea,” I said. “You don’t bring backup for the things you know about. You bring backup for the things you don’t know about.”
Luna was silent for a moment, rubbing her hands together next to the heating pipes. “I could have watched a lot better if I’d been closer.”
“Luna …”
“I know I can’t go inside,” Luna said. “Not that close. But can’t I meet them?”
“It’s dangerous.”
“You said the barghest was inside the factory.”
“I meant the mages.”
That made Luna look up in surprise. “I thought you were working with them?”
“Today?” I said. “Yes. Tomorrow?” I shrugged.
“Seriously?”
I sighed. “Luna, if an order went out tomorrow to bring the two of us in, those guys would be first in line to do it. I might not be on the Council’s hit list anymore but that doesn’t mean they like me. I don’t think they’re out to get me. But if it ever became in their interests to get rid of me, I doubt they’d think twice. And every bit of information they have on you makes you an easier target.”
Luna was silent. I hoped she was listening because I wasn’t exaggerating. Tonight I’d worked with Garrick and Ilmarin and the security men, and we’d done a good, professional job. But if one of those same men tried to threaten or kidnap or even kill me, a week or a month or a year from now, it really wouldn’t surprise me much. “What about Talisid?” Luna said at last.
“He doesn’t know everything that you can do, and the more time you spend with him, the harder it’ll be to keep that secret.”
“I don’t care about keeping everything a secret. What’s the point in staying safe if I can’t do anything?”
I could hear the frustration in Luna’s voice and was about to reply but stopped. I could have told her she needed to be patient. I could have told her mage society was a dangerous place, and that sometimes the best thing was to stay away from it. I could have told her that her position as my apprentice wouldn’t do much to protect her if things went wrong.
All of those things would have been true, but they wouldn’t have helped. Luna is an adept, not a mage. An adept is like a mage with a much narrower focus; they can use magic, but only in a very specific way. In Luna’s case it’s chance magic, altering the flow of probability. Chance magic can only affect things that are sufficiently random. It can’t win you a chess match or make money appear out of thin air, because there’s nothing for the magic to work on. But it can send a breeze a different way, make someone slip a fraction, cause something to break at a certain point: countless tiny changes that can make the difference between success and failure, danger and safety, life and death. It’s not flashy, but it can be powerful.
Unfortunately for Luna, her magic isn’t a gift; it was laid upon her as a curse, passed down through the generations all the way from one of her ancestors in Sicily. The curse twists bad luck away from Luna and onto everyone nearby. For Luna, it’s like she has a charmed life. She doesn’t get sick, she doesn’t have accidents, and any bit of random ill fortune will always hit someone else. You’re probably thinking that doesn’t sound like much of a curse, and you’d be right … except that all that bad luck gets intensified and redirected to everyone nearby. To my mage’s sight Luna’s curse looks like a cloud of silvery mist, flow
ing from Luna’s skin to surround her in a protective cloud. To anyone who comes too close, that mist is poison. Passing within arm’s reach is dangerous, and a touch can be fatal. There’s no way to defend against it, because there’s no way to know what it’ll do—it might be a scraped knee, it might be a heart attack, and you’ll never know until it happens. Luna knows, every minute of every day, that simply by being near anybody she’s making their life worse, and that the best thing she can do for them is to stay as far away as possible.
It adds up to a pretty horrible form of isolation, where every time the bearer lets herself get close to another living thing, something terrible happens. From what I’ve learnt, most victims go insane or kill themselves within a few years. Luna grew up with it. She survived … but not by much. Luna told me once that the reason she started the search that eventually led her to me was because she realised that if she didn’t, there was going to come a day where she simply didn’t care enough to stay alive anymore.
And what all that meant was that warning Luna of the dangers of the mage world wasn’t going to work. Not because she didn’t understand the danger, but because she’d quite coldbloodedly decided a long time ago that any amount of danger was better than the life she’d had. “All right,” I said at last. “Next time, you can come along.”
Luna blinked and looked at me. She didn’t smile but she seemed to lift somehow, as if she’d grown a couple of inches. With my mage’s sight, I felt the mist around her ripple and recede slightly. I turned and started walking back towards the main road, and Luna followed at a safe distance.
Somehow, as of a little while ago, Luna’s started to learn to control her curse. I still don’t know exactly how she managed it, partly because I don’t really understand how her curse works in the first place and partly because it happened in the middle of a rather eventful few days during which I was trying to keep myself from being killed, possessed, or recruited. Since then Luna’s been training to master it, under what guidance I can give her. “Next session is Sunday morning,” I said. “Make sure you’re at Arachne’s for ten.”
Alex Verus Novels, Books 1-4 (9780698175952) Page 30
