Fated av-1

by Benedict Jacka

  Deleo didn’t answer. ‘For a start, I’d like to know what your plans were for Luna,’ I went on. ‘But I know you wouldn’t tell me the truth. So I thought I’d ask about something you seem to have more of a personal interest in.’ I cocked my head. ‘Why do you hate me so much?’

  Deleo stared back at me from the other side of the wall. The silence stretched out and I’d just opened my mouth to go on when she finally spoke. ‘You couldn’t stay away, could you?’ Her voice was low, vibrating with some intense emotion: hate, pain, anger. ‘I knew you’d be back. It was always you.’

  ‘Uh,’ I said. ‘Okay, let’s try this again. Why-?’

  ‘Shut up.’ Deleo’s voice was raw. ‘Don’t talk to me. It was your fault, all of it. Now you’re trying to do it again.’ The light around her hands flared, brightened. ‘It’s people like you that always screw things up, always make it worse. If you were gone I could fix things. The ones who really matter.’ Suddenly, she turned. ‘Stop it!’

  I stared, following her gaze. Deleo was looking at empty air, out over the railings. I searched the area and saw nothing. ‘Um,’ I said. ‘Look, if-’

  ‘You’ve had the dreams, haven’t you?’ Deleo asked. She sounded distracted, like she was carrying on two conversations at once. ‘I can see them. You haven’t escaped, no one does. It always comes back. I’m the only one who can break it.’ She cocked her head, seeming to listen, then snarled. ‘Shut up!’

  ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘You know what, I don’t want to know any more. You’re nuttier than a bowl of Alpen. Just stay away from me.’

  ‘You don’t understand.’ Deleo’s eyes stared through me for a second, then all of a sudden they cleared and she was focused on me again. ‘Give me the girl.’

  ‘Uh, how about no?’

  ‘You think you can protect her? You can’t. The only way she’ll be safe is with me.’

  I actually laughed. ‘Oh, that’s different. I’ll just hand her over, shall I?’

  In a quick movement Deleo stepped up against the barrier. Her left hand pulsed against the wall of force, sending ripples through it. ‘I won’t let anyone get in my way,’ she said. All of a sudden, her voice was deadly calm. ‘You were always weaker than me. I know how to hurt you, Alex.’

  Deleo and I stared into each other’s eyes from fewer than ten feet away. The barrier was starting to tremble; the amount of destructive force she was pouring into it was staggering. From behind I heard Luna’s voice, calling. ‘Alex! Alex!’

  I stepped back. ‘Don’t come after me.’

  ‘This isn’t over,’ Deleo said. It sounded like a promise.

  I turned and ran. Behind, I could hear the force wall whining under the strain. As I got around the corner of the pyramid, I saw Luna leaning over the railing and Starbreeze floating just beyond it. ‘Time to go!’ I called.

  ‘Go where?’ Starbreeze asked curiously.

  ‘Home!’ I grabbed Luna’s hand. ‘Fast!’

  ‘Okay!’ Starbreeze engulfed us. In a flash we were turned to air and whisked away. Looking back, I had one glimpse of the barrier breaking in a blue-green flash before the tower was shrinking behind us. ‘No fun,’ Starbreeze complained, her voice muffled by the wind.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Luna asked.

  ‘Nothing happened,’ Starbreeze said, sounding disappointed.

  The Docklands vanished behind us, their lights merging with the rest of London as Starbreeze lifted us higher and higher into the sky. Already we were far enough away to be invisible to anyone watching. ‘Trust me, Starbreeze,’ I said as we banked and turned north, heading home. ‘It was exciting enough down on our end.’

  Starbreeze dropped us on my roof and I gave her something or other and watched her soar away. My shop was dark and quiet. All around, I could hear the sounds of the city again, distant and reassuring. All of a sudden, I didn’t want to deal with magic and mages any more; I just wanted to be home and safe. ‘Want a drink?’ I said, smothering a yawn as we walked through the hall.

  Luna shook her head. Her dress was a little disarrayed, but it made her look better if anything. She seemed to be slowly coming down from a high. ‘Stay here for tonight, then?’ I asked. ‘I think there’s a camp bed somewhere.’

  ‘I think I should go.’

  I looked at her, puzzled. Luna nodded down at my chest. ‘Look.’

  I stared for a moment before realising. In the excitement, I’d forgotten about Arachne’s ribbon. I looked down to see that almost all of the white ribbon had turned black. Only an inch or so was left.

  ‘I think my coach is turning back into a pumpkin,’ Luna said, and I looked up in surprise to see one of her rare smiles. Somehow, though, this one seemed sad. ‘It’s okay. You said they can’t find me now, right? I’ll find a place to stay.’ She moved to the door.

  ‘Luna, wait!’ I followed. ‘They can’t find you with magic, but they can still look. It’s not going to be-’

  Luna turned and stepped into my arms, laying her head against my chest, one hand holding gently onto my coat. I stopped in surprise, looking down at her. ‘Thank you for tonight,’ Luna said. Her body was cool, and she smelt of clouds and wind. ‘It was worth it.’

  I started to put an arm around her. ‘Luna-’

  ‘It’s midnight,’ Luna said softly, and slipped away, hiding her face. Before I could react the door opened and closed, and I was alone. I heard her footsteps fading outside.

  I stood there for a long time, then walked back to my desk and sat down. I untied the ribbon from my belt and held it up in front of me. Almost all of it had turned to black and, as I watched, the very last corner faded and darkened. The ribbon flickered once, then crumbled to dust between my fingers. In a second there was nothing left but a trace of black powder.

  I sat looking at it for a long time, then went upstairs to bed.

  8

  I came awake into darkness. My chest hurt, everything was black and the screams were still ringing in my ears. As I lay tense, my heart pounding, I realised it had been a dream. My flat was silent. I lay there for a few minutes, letting my breathing slow until my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, then I rose and walked on bare feet to the window. Same old nightmares.

  Once I was leaning out the window, taking deep breaths of the night air, I felt better. Being enclosed always reminds me of that time and I’ve learnt that an open sky is the best way to throw it off. I’ve always liked looking out of my window at night; something about the density, all those thousands of pinpoints and every one a person or a family. I could tell from the murmur that it was about four o’clock in the morning. Camden is never silent, but this is the quietest it gets. I could hear the sounds of distant music filtering through the bridges and over the canal, but my street was still.

  I don’t have many scars. Dark mages are quite skilled with methods of torture that don’t cause permanent physical damage. My chest still hurt though — a phantom pain. I rubbed at it until it faded and leant on the window-sill, looking out into the night. A three-quarter moon was high in the sky, casting London in a pale light that reflected off the rooftops.

  For some reason, instead of Luna, I found myself thinking of the woman we’d left behind, Deleo. I was sure she was someone from my past — probably from my time with Richard. It’s hard to remember someone just from the sound of their voice, but I’ve got access to ways of looking that normal people don’t. I was pretty sure I could figure out who she was if I wanted to.

  Except I didn’t. Yes, Deleo was after me. Yes, I could probably protect myself better if I knew who she was. But even that wasn’t enough to make me willingly take myself back to that place in my memory. My time with Richard is a place I’ve locked up in my mind; I don’t think about it and I don’t go back to it. Instead I ran through a brief exercise to clear my head then, when I was calm again, returned to bed and fell asleep quickly.

  When I woke again, morning sunlight was streaming through the window. It took me a moment to recognise the nois
e that had pulled me awake — it had been the sound of my letterbox. I went downstairs in my underwear and discovered a small package had been dropped through the front door. I took it upstairs, scanning and opening it as I went, and unwrapped a roll of tissue to reveal a stylised stone key — a gate stone. It didn’t come with a note, but I already knew where it would lead.

  I went back upstairs and checked the news. A footnote on the news sites mentioned that the British Museum was closed due to a fire. The Council has excellent connections with the British government. I went to make my preparations.

  Choosing your equipment for a meeting with other mages is a tricky business. It’s a fine line between being prepared for trouble and being seen as the trouble. Visible weapons were obviously out. I really wanted to take my mist cloak, but given I’d been wearing it when I’d run from the Council reinforcements on Friday night, that wasn’t an option either. I was fairly sure that between my cloak and the confusion, none of the Council mages had managed to get a good look at my face. If they had, this trip was going to be eventful. In the end, I picked out a nondescript set of casual clothes with relatively few tools or weapons, hoping to appear as low-key as possible.

  Once I was done, I hung the CLOSED notice on the door, checked my wards, checked to see if my phone had any messages from Luna (it didn’t), then went into the back room and activated the gate stone. A shimmering portal opened in the air and I stepped through. I could have walked to the museum in twenty minutes, but if I did that I’d have to explain how I knew where the gate stone was going to lead. Right now I was in the Council’s good books, if only because they needed me, but I didn’t think it would take much to change that.

  I came down onto a polished white floor, my feet echoing around a wide room. I was back in the British Museum’s Great Court. The area I’d stepped off into was marked off by ropes, and a chime rang in the air as I emerged.

  The Great Court was mostly empty. The information desks and shops were deserted and most of the people I could see looked like Council security. A man dressed in brown and grey had been talking to two guards stationed at the entrance; now he finished up and walked over to me.

  ‘Morning,’ the man said once he was close enough. He was in his middle years, with iron-grey hair and a tough, competent manner. Although I’d only seen him for a few seconds, I recognised him. He’d been the one in command of the reinforcements, the one who’d shouted at Cinder to stop. I kept my expression relaxed, and was relieved to see no recognition in his eyes.

  ‘Alexander Verus,’ I said. ‘I’m looking for the leader of the investigation team.’

  As I said my name, the man nodded. ‘You’ve found him. Griff Blackstone.’ He offered his hand and I shook it. ‘Good to see you. Been asking for a diviner for weeks.’

  Griff led me towards the Reading Room and the curving staircase up. Now that I had a chance to count, I could see there were at least a dozen Council guards around the Great Court, stationed at the doors and corners. There were no traces of Friday’s battle; the floor and stairs were neat and flawless. Earth and matter mages can repair stone so well you’d never know it had been damaged. ‘Tight security,’ I said as we ascended the stairs.

  ‘Need it. You heard about the attack?’

  I looked at Griff inquiringly, which he seemed to take as a no. ‘Some team, Friday night. Broke through the barrier and set off the relic guardian. Hell of a mess.’

  ‘How many were there?’

  ‘Three, maybe four. Wish we’d gotten a good look at them.’

  Glad you didn’t. ‘Are we clear for civilians?’

  Griff nodded as we reached the top of the stairs. ‘Museum’s closed until further notice. Everyone you meet’s been cleared.’ The restaurant at the top of the stairs had been converted into a temporary headquarters, and a dozen or so mages were gathered there: the investigation team. They all stopped to watch as we walked in and I could tell they knew who I was even before Griff introduced me.

  Other mages have an odd attitude towards diviners. By the standards of, say, elemental mages, diviners are complete wimps. We can’t gate, we can’t attack, we can’t shield and when it comes to physical action our magic is about as useful as a bicycle in a trampolining contest. But we can see anywhere and learn anything and there’s no secret we can’t uncover if we try hard enough. So when an elemental mage looks at a diviner, the elemental mage knows he could take him in a straight fight with no more effort than it would take to tie his shoes. On the other hand, the elemental mage also knows that the diviner could find out every one of his most dirty and embarrassing secrets and, should he feel like it, post copies of them to everyone the elemental mage has ever met. It creates a mixture of uneasiness and contempt that doesn’t encourage warm feelings. There’s a reason most of my friends aren’t mages.

  So as I was introduced to the team I wasn’t expecting a big welcome, and I didn’t get one; polite neutrality was the order of the day. But just because I wasn’t making friends didn’t mean I wasn’t paying attention. It was the defences I was interested in, and from what I could see they’d been beefed up heavily. There were overlapping wards over the entire museum, both alarms and transportation locks. The roped-off area I’d gated into was probably one of only two or three spots still accessible.

  Once the investigation team and I had finished pretending to be friendly, Griff led me into the museum, passing more guards on the way. The landing above now held four guards instead of two, and the barrier had been strengthened — now it was an opaque wall blocking the top of the stairs. ‘Barrier’s pass-coded,’ Griff said as we walked up the stairs. ‘Pretty much the only thing that went right for us. The mages who mounted the raid couldn’t get round the alarm. Had to set it off as they went in.’

  ‘Uh-huh,’ I said, studying the ward. The password had been changed and I made a mental note to spend sixty seconds or so and re-crack it before I left. It’s funny, really. Even when people go specifically looking for a diviner, they still never seem to grasp what we can do.

  The room inside was the same. The statue was still at the centre, the stone man looking forward imperiously with his hand extended, and I gave it a narrow look. If you’re going to build something that sets a lightning elemental on anyone who touches it wrong, you could at least have the decency to put up a warning sign or something. This time, though, there was company.

  Another mage was examining the statue on his knees, a teenager in scuffed brown clothes. He had a mop of untidy black hair and a pair of glasses that he kept pushing up the bridge of his nose, only for them to fall back down again a second later.

  ‘Sonder,’ Griff said, and the young man jumped to his feet, startled. ‘Diviner’s here. Show him around.’ He turned to me. ‘You good?’

  I nodded. ‘I’ll get to work.’

  ‘Sonder’ll get you whatever you need. Tell me if you get anywhere. We could use a break.’ Griff turned and walked back down the stairs, vanishing through the black wall of the barrier without a ripple.

  Sonder scrambled to his feet. ‘Um, hi. Oh, you’re the diviner?’

  ‘That’s me,’ I said, looking around.

  ‘I’m David. Everyone calls me Sonder, though.’ Sonder started to extend his hand, then hesitated and stopped. ‘You’re here to look at it too? Oh!’ I had walked up to the statue and Sonder hovered anxiously, not quite willing to pull me away. ‘Don’t put anything in the left hand!’

  ‘Relax,’ I said as I examined the statue. ‘I wasn’t planning to.’

  ‘Oh good. The defence systems are really heavy. I mean, I haven’t actually seen them personally, but still.’

  I gave a brief glance through the futures of me interacting with the statue and found that nothing had changed. Every future in which I put something in the statue’s hand led to the lightning elemental materialising in the middle of the room and trying to kill us. I took a look at the statue’s hands. While the left one was empty, the right one clasped an unmarked wand. I poin
ted to it. ‘This is what everyone’s here for?’

  Sonder nodded. ‘That’s the fateweaver. It’s just a representation, though, the real thing is inside.’

  ‘Uh-huh. Sonder? Maybe you could help me with something.’

  ‘Really?’ Sonder sounded surprised, but pulled himself together quickly. ‘Well, okay. I mean, yes. If I can.’

  ‘Everyone keeps talking about getting inside this thing,’ I said. ‘How?’

  ‘Oh, right.’ Sonder seemed to relax. ‘Well, you see, the statue is the focal point for a Mobius spell. It’s one of the techniques that was lost during the post-war period, but one of the Alicaern manuscripts has a good description. A Mobius spell takes the section of space it enchants and gives it a half-twist to bring it out of phase with reality. The ends of the enclosed space collapse inwards and join with each other to form a spatial bubble. Now, obviously, the natural result of that would be that the bubble would drift away, and of course once that happens there’s no way to reestablish a link, so you need a focus to anchor it to our physical universe. Once it’s been set up, there’s no way to find the bubble from anywhere in the universe except via the focus. We’ve actually discovered Mobius focuses before, but this is the first time …’

  As Sonder kept talking, I watched him out of the corner of my eye. Now I took a closer look I could see he was actually twenty or so; he just looked younger. He didn’t look like an apprentice, though — I pegged him as a new journeyman, still fresh out from under a master’s supervision. The ones outside had been less green. But were they tough enough?

  There’s a reason Dark mages are feared. It’s not because their magic is any more powerful than its less evil counterpart, it’s because of the people who use it. Life as a Dark mage is savage and brutal, an endless war for status and power with shifting alliances and betrayals. The infighting is the reason Dark mages can’t unite; they’re actually far more dangerous to each other than anyone else, though it’s hard to remember that when one of them’s after you.