“It’s safe,” I said, and shook myself. “I think we’ve outstayed our welcome.”
Luna followed without argument. Once she would have complained, but she’s learnt a lot since then. “What did he want to talk about?”
“I’ll tell you on the way home,” I said. “Let’s get out of here. Morden won’t take a shot at us if he sees us again, but Onyx will.”
chapter 8
I caught Luna up on what she’d missed, and we separated at Camden Town. She had classes the next day and we wouldn’t see each other until we met at the White Stone opening in the evening. I headed home and crashed.
I woke up the next morning starving and light-headed. Obviously the effects of Anne’s spell hadn’t worn off. I had to eat everything in my flat and make a trip to the supermarket for a second breakfast before I was feeling human again.
Sonder rang just as I was finishing up. “Hey,” I said into my phone, carrying the plates to the sink.
“Alex?” Sonder said. “Those men who were after you and Anne? I found them.”
* * *
The block of flats was in Stoke Newington, not close to where the attack had happened but not all that far either. It was a border area between a run-down council estate and a nicer street of semidetached houses; the sort of area you’d find students, immigrants, and anyone who wanted a place with more-or-less affordable rent and not too high a crime rate. The flats were dark brick, spread wide, and three storeys high, and they were quiet. It was late morning and most of the people living here would be at work or school.
The weather had clouded over and a chill wind was gusting down the street. I ducked into a doorway next to Sonder, taking what meagre shelter we could from the cold. “Which flat?”
“Second floor, number three twenty-nine,” Sonder said. He was shivering.
I concentrated and path-walked, watching my future self cross the street, make my way into the flats, and navigate to the door. I kicked the door down . . . and the future dissolved into a chaos of combat and gunfire. I pulled back, the future fading away instantly. “It’s them.”
“I told you.”
“How did you find them?”
“How do you think? I followed the route here.”
“Were they in a car?”
“Yes.”
“And you traced them on foot—”
“Yes.”
“I’m guessing it took a long time.”
“Yes.”
“All right,” I said. “Thanks. I know it wasn’t an easy job.”
“I’m freezing,” Sonder said. He was still shivering. “What are you going to do?”
I studied the block of flats. “I’m going to go in and have a chat.”
“Then I’m coming too.”
“Sonder—”
“You always try to leave me behind,” Sonder said. “I’ve been doing this for five hours. I’m not turning around and going home.”
I hesitated. It’s not that Sonder’s incompetent. Several times he’s managed to accomplish things on his own that I think are pretty impressive. Just because he doesn’t specialise in combat doesn’t mean that he can’t look after himself; he can react surprisingly fast and he knows some uses of time magic that are very useful in a tight spot. I’d rather have him at my side than most mages twice his age.
The problem is that Sonder is basically nice. He doesn’t fight except in self-defence and he avoids hurting people whenever he can. I on the other hand am not nice. The reason there were two people in the flat ahead of us rather than three was because I’d stabbed the third one to death. And if necessary I was quite willing to do the same to the other two. Sonder would never think of doing something like that. I’ve never been sure whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but I knew the difference in approach was likely to cause trouble.
But Sonder had earned the right to come along, and I could use the backup. “You don’t come into the flat until I tell you it’s clear,” I said. “Got it?”
“Got it.”
We crossed the street, cold wind whipping our clothes. A fine drizzle had started to fall, chilling my skin and damping my hair. The entrance to the flats was sealed with a security door; I studied the panel for a second and pressed the button for a first-floor flat. We waited for a second and the speaker buzzed. “Hello?” a female voice asked.
“Delivery for flat seventeen?” I said.
“Delivery?” the voice said doubtfully. “I thought they said tomorrow . . . Just a second . . .” The door beeped as the unlock light came on and we ducked inside.
“Why didn’t she ask why you weren’t using the tradesman’s bell?” Sonder asked as we started up the stairs.
“No idea.”
The stairwell was concrete, and cold. We were on the first-floor landing when something pinged on my precognition. I stopped, Sonder doing the same, and in the silence I heard footsteps descending above us.
I moved quickly to the doors, pulling Sonder through them and letting them swing closed behind me. Sonder started to ask a question and I raised a hand for silence. The door had a small wired-glass window and I watched through it.
The echoing footsteps kept coming, muffled through the wood and concrete, and then through the window I saw a man descend into view wearing the uniform of a London policeman. Black vest, webbing belt, conical hat. He crossed the landing, his hand twisted oddly on the banister and his back to us, and disappeared from view without showing us his face. His footsteps faded away.
I waited a minute, then pushed the door open an inch. There was no sound from below. “What was he doing here?” Sonder asked uneasily.
“I’m not sure.”
“Do you think he was here to see those guys?”
“Maybe,” I said. Something about what we’d just seen was nagging at me. One lone policeman . . . “Sonder? Don’t police usually go in pairs?”
Sonder sounded doubtful. “I’m not sure.”
If it was just a routine enquiry . . . but if it was a murder investigation . . . “Come on,” I said, going up the stairs two at a time. Sonder hurried after me.
I gave the second floor a quick visual check as we emerged from the stairwell. No security cameras. I walked quickly and quietly to number 329 and looked into the immediate future of going through the door. No movement. I pulled out my tools. “Cover me,” I said, going down on one knee. Sonder stood above me, looking nervously from side to side.
Being able to see the future helps with a lot of physical skills and lockpicking is one of them. You still need to know how to use the tools, but with my divination magic I can see at a glance if a lock’s beatable and if so how. Conscious of how exposed we were, I worked fast.
After twenty seconds there was a click and the door swung open to reveal a plain corridor, open doorways leading into rooms ahead of me. I signalled to Sonder to stay back and slipped inside. I was already scanning the futures, looking for the flurry of combat I’d seen before. Nothing on the ground floor, nothing on the first floor—that didn’t make sense, I should be seeing a fight. I checked again. Living room, bathroom, bedrooms—no combat. I wasn’t in any danger at all.
“Alex?” Sonder whispered from behind me. I waved to him to stay back. There was something odd about the air in here, a strange smell. Coppery.
I switched from a focused scan to a wide one. Instead of looking only for combat, I looked into the futures of entering the rooms ahead of me just to see what would happen . . . and suddenly I knew what that smell was.
“I—” Sonder started to say.
“Stay there,” I said harshly and walked forward.
The men who’d tried to kill Anne two nights ago were in the living room. One was sprawled across the sofa on his back, eyes staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. His throa
t had been torn open with such force that it had almost severed his head, and blood glistened over his fingers and in a gory spray around his body. The second man was sprawled against the wall, greyish intestines strewn around his shredded stomach. The rich scent of blood filled the air.
I stood quite still, not going any farther into the room. My eyes took in the details. Furniture overturned where the men had fallen, but nowhere else. Coffee mugs on the table with a TV remote. A thread of steam was rising from the coffee and the blood was still fresh.
Sonder was trying to get my attention from outside, but I wasn’t listening. My heart was pounding from the adrenaline and I looked into the future of searching the bodies, being very careful not to move. Wallets, phones, keys—and weapons. Both had been carrying guns, but they hadn’t taken them out. Their hands were empty.
I thought back over my movements. I hadn’t stepped in the blood. Had I touched anything that could have left fingerprints? No, I’d been careful. But any second now someone could show up. We had to get out of here.
All the same, I hesitated. These two had been alive when I’d checked five minutes ago. Someone had been here between now and then—
The policeman. The one who’d been alone. I turned and walked out, brushing past Sonder. “Move.”
“Wait, what—”
“We’re leaving.” I hurried downstairs, searching through the futures for signs of movement. There were people about in the flats, and I altered our course to make sure we wouldn’t meet them. I did not want any witnesses placing us at the scene when this got reported to the police.
Once we’d made it back down to the entry area I breathed a little easier. I looked into the future for any sign of the policeman, searching for what we would find if we opened the door. Nothing but falling rain. “Alex?” Sonder asked. “What’s going on?”
I turned to Sonder, about to ask him to help me find where the man had gone. Then suddenly I stopped as I realised what I was doing. Whoever or whatever this guy was, he’d just ripped apart two trained gunmen. Did I really want to chase after him?
A door opened in the stairwell above and that decided me. “Come on,” I said, opening the door into the cold drizzle. “I’ll explain once we’re out of here.”
* * *
“Did you manage to identify the man?” Talisid asked.
It was two hours later, and Talisid and I were sitting in a French restaurant in Holborn. The tables were widely spaced and Talisid had chosen one at the back where pillars made us hard to see from the street. The room had a high ceiling and was light and airy. The lunchtime crowd wasn’t too heavy, and the buzz of conversation around us was low.
“No,” I said.
“Didn’t you say Sonder was with you?” Talisid said.
“And I could have asked him to look back to see what happened and maybe follow the guy. Yeah, I know. I didn’t.”
A waiter appeared next to us. “May I take your order, sirs?”
“Moules à la marinière followed by poulet à la moutard et au miel.” Talisid handed him the menu. “And a glass of the house red, please.”
I pointed at Talisid. “What he said.”
The waiter bowed and vanished as quietly as he had come. “I assume you had a reason,” Talisid said once the waiter was out of earshot.
“Three reasons. First, it was too dangerous. Sonder needs time to scan a location and every second we stayed made it more likely we’d be reported at the scene. And if we did manage to find where that guy had gone and chase him, there’s a good chance he would have tried to kill us. Second, it wouldn’t have told us anything useful. I already know what happened. That guy came to the flat and killed everyone inside.”
“And the third?”
“The third is they aren’t the guys we’re looking for,” I said. “Those three men and the guy who hired them aren’t the ones who’ve been disappearing those apprentices.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Sonder was able to trace them.”
Talisid thought for a second, then nodded. “No shroud.”
“No shroud. And something else—that attack on Anne was messy. It would have left her body, bloodstains, witnesses, you name it. The disappearances you set me to investigate are the exact opposite. Neat and clean, no sign of a struggle.” I shook my head. “Completely different MO.”
“So where does that leave us?”
“Not very far,” I said. “We still haven’t found any trace of whoever’s snatching these apprentices, but I wasn’t expecting to get quick results anyway. They haven’t lasted this long by being careless. I’m hoping we’ll find out more in Fountain Reach.”
“You think it’s there?”
“I think an awful lot of people seem to want me to think it’s there. If nothing else it’s the biggest gathering of apprentices in the British Isles. Seems like a good place to keep an eye on.”
Talisid nodded and handed me a sealed envelope. “Registration papers. Luna’s been entered as a competitor.”
“Thanks.” I tucked the envelope away just as the food arrived.
Lunch occupied us both for a while. It was good. I tend to be pretty casual with the food I eat and it’s rare for me to go out somewhere nice like this. “I had someone take a look at those halls of residence,” Talisid said eventually. “There were security cameras but unfortunately they didn’t show anything. The relevant sections of recording on all the cameras were blank.”
I looked up at that. “Huh.”
“It was a good idea,” Talisid said. “Pity it didn’t come to anything.”
“Yes it did. It tells us a lot.”
“How do you mean?”
“If those security cameras were wiped, that means there was something on them they didn’t want us to see,” I said. “If they’d just gated into their room or something they wouldn’t have needed to mess with the recordings.” An image was starting to form in my mind: a shadowy figure walking in the front door, heading up to the room, knocking . . .
“A mage, then?” Talisid said, breaking into my thoughts.
“I’m thinking that way,” I said. “And something else. I saw Morden last night at Tiger’s Palace and he told me Dark apprentices have been disappearing too.”
Talisid frowned. “Really?”
“Do you know if it’s true?”
“I’d heard some rumours, but I hadn’t known how accurate they were. Unfortunately the Dark mages don’t have a centralised organisation as we do. There’s no one representative we could approach to ask questions.”
“Who’s the closest?”
Talisid raised his eyebrows. “Probably Morden.”
“Do you think he’s really trying to stop these attacks? To boost his reputation amongst Dark mages?”
Talisid thought for a second, fork in hand. “It matches his past goals,” he said at last. “But I’m not sure it’s the whole story.”
“What else, then?”
“Well, I was surprised at Morden being at the Tiger’s Palace.” Talisid finished his meal and set down his cutlery with a clink, interlacing his fingers. “Morden and Jagadev are . . . rivals, of sorts. The people you go to see if you want something that Light mages can’t do or won’t. They’ve been competing for years and I’ve always been under the impression there’s bad feeling between them.”
“So what?” I said. “You think the other reason Morden’s doing this is because he thinks it’ll hurt Jagadev?”
“That would be my guess.” The waiter approached, about to ask if we’d like any dessert, but Talisid waved him off.
I thought about it for a second then shook my head in frustration. “But both Jagadev and Morden were pointing me towards Fountain Reach. If they want opposite things, how come they’re sending me to the same place?”
“Good question,” Talisid said. “Any idea where to start?”
I tapped a finger on the tablecloth, staring off into the distance with a frown. “I’m going to stick around Anne and Variam,” I said at last. “I don’t know what’s going on with those two but I’ve got the feeling they’re tied into this somehow. Especially Anne. If someone takes another shot at her I’m going to be around for it.”
Talisid nodded and motioned the waiter over, taking out his wallet. “Good luck.”
* * *
I spent a few hours settling affairs in London. First I packed. My flat has a huge selection of equipment, tools, focuses, one-shots, gear, weapons, and miscellaneous stuff I’ve picked up over the years, most of which I never use. It looks like junk, and to be fair it usually is, but it’s worth keeping around for when I need something obscure, fast. That wouldn’t be an option in Fountain Reach—I’d have what I brought with me and nothing more. In the end I left the specialist stuff behind and took a selection of the general-purpose items I use the most—condensers, forcewalls, and a couple of weapons. I hesitated over my mist cloak. I don’t like to carry it unless I really need it—a lot of its effectiveness comes from the fact that most people don’t know that I have it or what it can do—but in the end it was just too useful to leave at home.
Next I wrote a sign saying that the Arcana Emporium would be closed for renovations and hung it in the window. It felt like I’d been doing that a lot lately. Now that I thought about it, between jobs, trouble, and Luna’s training, it’d been months since I’d put in a full week at the shop.
And after that I went to explain to Sonder that he wasn’t coming.
“But I can help,” Sonder said.
“I know,” I said. “That’s why I want you somewhere else.”
We were standing in the daylight outside the station. “You’re taking Luna,” Sonder objected.
“Luna’s protected. That’s the whole point of her curse.”
“I can take care of myself too,” Sonder said. He had a wounded look, like a dog that had been told it wasn’t going to be taken for a walk.
Alex Verus Novels, Books 1-4 (9780698175952) Page 68
