Alex Verus 5: Hidden

by Benedict Jacka

  I stared at her.

  | | | | | | | | |

  “You are the most annoying apprentice I’ve ever met,” I told Luna fifteen minutes later.

  We were in a taxi heading south, the rain drumming on the roof as the wipers swept back and forth across the windscreen. Other cars swooshed past, their lights turning them into luminous ghosts though the curtain of water. The taxi driver, a heavyset man with close-cropped black hair, had taken one look as we got in and wisely elected to keep his mouth shut.

  “You can shout at me afterwards,” Luna said. She was in the backseat and looking out at the rain.

  “Why did I get stuck with you? Everyone else gets apprentices who do as they’re told.”

  “Right, like you did?”

  We would have kept arguing, but the presence of the taxi driver put a lid on how much we could say and the argument tailed off into silence, which was probably for the best. Luna kept staring out the window as we crossed London.

  The weather hadn’t improved by the time we reached Honor Oak. I paid the driver and watched the taxi disappear into the rain. “So now what?” Luna asked. She’d brought along a big golf umbrella and was quite dry. The umbrella was more than big enough to share, except that her curse meant that I couldn’t get close enough and had to stand out in the rain getting wet instead, which seemed highly unfair.

  “Wait out here and watch the door,” I said shortly. The weather wasn’t improving my mood. “I’ll check her flat and then we’ll go.” I headed for the building without waiting for an answer.

  Once I was inside, I shook water out of my hair and started upstairs. I hadn’t path-walked to see what would happen when I knocked on the door—it’s a hassle to do it while your movements are under the control of a driver and quite frankly it hadn’t been worth the effort. I tried it now and found to my absolute lack of surprise that Anne wasn’t going to answer.

  I wanted to walk away, but I knew Luna would just do something even more annoying if I didn’t do a proper check. I climbed the stairs to Anne’s flat. There weren’t any would-be patients this time. I knelt on the concrete landing, put my ear to the wooden door, took out my phone and called Anne’s number, then let out my breath and listened.

  After a moment, I heard the faint sounds of Anne’s ringtone through the wood. Apparently she hadn’t changed it since last year. It rang, then went to voice mail. I redialled and got the same result. Looking through the futures I could tell she wasn’t going to answer.

  I looked to see what would happen if I just kicked the door down. Nothing. She definitely wasn’t in.

  So why had she left her phone?

  It probably didn’t mean anything, but it was enough to make me stick around. I glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then took out my picks and got to work on the door. It wasn’t a particularly good lock and after only a few minutes it clicked open. I stepped though and shut the door behind me. Anne really needed better security in this place.

  The flat was pitch-black and I stood for a minute in the darkness, letting my eyes adjust. There was no sound in the present and no movement in the future. I took out a torch and clicked it on; the entry corridor was bare and so was the room I’d been in before. I moved deeper into the flat. The bathroom was neat and clean and empty, bottles stacked by the shower and on the glass shelf above the sink. In the kitchen, dishes and cooking pans for a meal for one had been washed and were sitting in the rack by the sink. Flashing my light over them, I saw that they were dry.

  Still nothing definite. If Anne suddenly showed up (which so far, I had no reason to believe wouldn’t happen) then I’d have serious trouble explaining what I was doing here. All the same, something felt off—I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was, but something was making me feel uneasy and I’ve learnt to listen to those instincts. The only room I hadn’t checked was the bedroom, and the door was ajar. I slipped the sleeve of my coat down over my hand so that it covered my fingers, then pushed it open.

  Anne’s bedroom was small, sized for only one person, with a window that would have given a view over the nature reserve if the curtains hadn’t been drawn. It smelt of some fragrance I couldn’t place but which made me think of flowers. Again, most of the room was neat and tidy—closed cupboard, clean desk, clothes folded on a chair—except for two things. The first thing was that the bed wasn’t made. The bedclothes had been pulled off and were lying in a trampled heap half on and half off the floor.

  The second thing was that the bedside table had been knocked over.

  I crouched beside it, careful not to touch anything. The contents of the table had been scattered across the carpet and the wooden planks. In the middle of the mess was Anne’s phone; it had been charging and the power lead was still plugged in, tethering it to the wall socket. There’d been a glass on the table and it had shattered when it had hit the floor, leaving a spray of shards all the way to the wall. They glinted in the light of my torch; as I studied them I saw that several had been crushed, as though from footsteps. Spread throughout the broken glass were the remaining contents of the table: a bedside lamp, small plastic jars of face cream, cotton buds, a set of keys, a hairbrush, nail polish, hand lotion . . . a wallet. Looking into the futures in which I opened it, I saw money and a bank card.

  If Anne was going out, why would she leave her phone and her keys and her wallet?

  I wasn’t just uneasy now, I was worried. I quickly checked the rest of the room. The window was closed and locked from the inside and didn’t show any signs of tampering. I’d already seen that the front door had been locked and unforced. As far as I can see, there weren’t any other ways in.

  What had happened here?

  I saw that my phone was going to ring; it was Luna. I took it out and answered before it could sound. “I’m inside.”

  “Someone just went into the building,” Luna said. Her voice was sharp and tense. “I couldn’t get a good look but think it was a woman. Too big to be Anne.”

  “Okay. Stay where you are and text if anyone follows.” I set my phone to silent and dropped it into my pocket, already scanning ahead to see if the person Luna had spotted was coming here.

  They were, and they were close: less than thirty seconds out. The bedroom was the worst place for me to be: too small, only one exit, and if the new visitor was here for the same reason I was then it would be the place they’d search most closely. I switched off my torch and moved back to the entry room, relying on my diviner’s senses to navigate. I could hear footsteps approaching the door. They’d be opening it with a key . . . how did they have a key? The room didn’t have many hiding places, so I stepped behind the door. Even if they switched the light on, I’d be out of sight.

  The key turned in the lock and the door swung open. Skimming through the futures I could see violence—were they going to detect me? What did I need to do to stay hidden? Heavy footfalls approached. Every future held confrontation or combat, there didn’t seem to be any way of avoiding—they knew I was there. In fact, they knew exactly where I was and they were coming for me.

  So much for the subtle approach.

  The footsteps entered the room, passing me by on the other side of the open door. They checked and turned, and I knew my mystery guest was about to yank the door open and pull me out. Screw that. I kicked the door into them as they reached for it and followed it out with a double-handed shove.

  I caught her (it was definitely a her) by surprise, but she was big and tough and I didn’t push her back far. It was still pitch-black and I tried to slip past, picking out the futures in which I found the gap, but she moved to block me and that future winked out. She tried a grab; I ducked and heard her arm swoosh over my head as I hit her in the gut, left and right. I’d used an open-palm strike and it was just as well; her body felt like rock and if I’d punched I probably would have broken my knuckles. She aimed a knee at my head that wou
ld have knocked me out if it had connected; I half-blocked it and while I was still staggering from that she grabbed me and did her level best to slam me into the floor.

  The two of us struggled in the darkness, twisting and stumbling. The woman was strong, really strong, and I could feel magic radiating from her limbs and body. I knew I wasn’t going to win a wrestling match, and I abruptly stopped resisting and went with the throw, rolling backwards on the carpet, bristles digging into my neck and skin as I came over and back to my feet. The movement had reversed the hold and now I had her arm twisted around, but even with the leverage I couldn’t force her down and she slammed me into the door, sending pain stabbing through my back. I stomped on the side of her knee, making her stagger, then yanked an item from my belt and stabbed her with it.

  The focus was a thin sliver of metal, and if there had been any light it would have looked silver. Its tip was blunt but as it struck it discharged the energy stored inside it, sending it flashing out and though her body. The magic radiating from her suddenly vanished.

  Knocking out the woman’s defensive spells accomplished what hitting her hadn’t. She swore and let go, jumping back out of range. I took one step towards the doorway, then paused. In my mage’s sight I could see the brownish glow of earth magic as the woman recast her spells, rebuilding her defences. The pattern was familiar . . . “Caldera?”

  Caldera had been about to advance again, but now she stopped. “Who are you?”

  “Who am I? What the hell are you doing?”

  “This is private property,” Caldera said sharply. “Identify yourself.”

  “I’m not talking to you in the dark. Switch the damn light on.”

  There was a suspicious silence, then Caldera moved to the wall and light flooded the room with a click. We stood and blinked at each other for a moment. “Verus?” Caldera said in disbelief.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I asked first.”

  “This isn’t a bloody playground,” Caldera said in annoyance. “You’re on Council property.”

  Caldera is thirty or so, with a round face and red cheeks. She’s half a foot shorter than me and a lot wider, with a body that’s heavy with fat and muscle, and she’s a Council Keeper of the Order of the Star, which in magical terms is something like a cross between political investigator and military police. Caldera’s on the “military police” end of the scale, but I’ve worked with her a few times over the past year. I wouldn’t say we’re friends, but she’s always kept her word and I’d trust her more than any other Keeper I can think of. Whether she felt the same way about me was another question, although given the circumstances it looked as though I might be about to find out.

  “I don’t know about the Council property part,” I said, “but I do know that a friend of mine lives here.” Stretching the truth twice in one sentence, but Caldera probably didn’t know that . . . “You have any idea where she’s gone?”

  “When did you last see her?”

  Just last night, we were having an argument alone in the woods right before she disappeared . . . Yeah, that was going to get a great reaction. “Why are you asking?” I said, then raised my hands. “Okay, okay, look. There’s a mage living here by the name of Anne Walker, as I’m guessing you already know or you wouldn’t be here. My apprentice has been trying to call her all day and she hasn’t been picking up, so I headed over to see if she was all right.”

  “Then what was the idea of picking a fight with me?”

  “You started it.”

  “You’re a suspect at a potential crime scene,” Caldera said. I noticed she said you’re instead of you were. “You make a habit of attacking Keepers on official business?”

  “For all I knew, you were a subject at a potential crime scene. And if you’re acting in your capacity as a Keeper, maybe you should announce that first. Seriously, this is what, the second time you’ve had a go at throwing me around? Were you disappointed you didn’t get a good enough fight the first try?”

  Caldera made an exasperated noise. “I don’t have time to argue with you. Let me do my job, all right?”

  “There’s something I’d better show you first,” I said, becoming serious. “If you’re here for the same reason I am, you’re going to want to take a look at this.”

  | | | | | | | | |

  Once in Anne’s bedroom, Caldera made a beeline for the overturned table and crouched next to it, frowning. “Did you touch anything?”

  “No.”

  Caldera twisted her neck to stare at me. “You sure?”

  “This is how it looked when I got here.”

  Caldera grunted and turned back to the scattered debris. I stayed quiet and didn’t bug her. “I’m going to make a call,” she said at last, rising to her feet. “You stay here. If you do a runner I’ll arrest you. Clear?”

  “The threats don’t help, you know,” I said mildly. “Yes, you’re clear.”

  Caldera went out into the entry corridor and I promptly started looking into the futures to eavesdrop. A brisk contest of stealth and perception took place between hypothetical future me and hypothetical future Caldera, which ended with me able to pick out odd words of her half of the conversation. She was telling someone to come here and to hurry. I took the opportunity to send Luna a message updating her on what was going on.

  “Right,” Caldera said once she’d finished, dropping her phone into her pocket as she reentered the bedroom. “When did you last see Miss Walker? And don’t dodge the question this time.”

  Apparently my earlier evasion hadn’t been all that subtle. I’d had time to think about how to answer and had decided to go with the truth—it’s easier to remember and you don’t have to worry so much about being caught out. “Last night,” I began, and gave Caldera a short account of the evening, accurate as far as it went but with the more personal details edited out.

  “. . . and that was the last time I saw her,” I finished.

  “Has anybody else you know had any contact with her since then?”

  “No. I told you, we haven’t heard anything else.”

  Caldera grunted and I knew she’d be checking up on that later. “Okay, I’ve answered your questions,” I said. “Now why are you here?”

  “This is Council property.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “Sorry. Classified.”

  I studied Caldera and folded my arms.

  Caldera glanced around. “You need to clear the area. There’ll be someone—”

  “Keepers from the Order of the Star don’t get sent on property inspections,” I said. “You’d only be here if there was something involving the Concord of the Council.” I looked at Caldera thoughtfully. “I’m guessing something triggered a flag. Maybe a report . . . or some kind of alarm? Otherwise you wouldn’t have assumed I was a suspect.”

  Caldera looked back at me without expression. “But your remit is the Concord,” I said. “Anne’s not a recognised mage or an apprentice of one. You shouldn’t have any reason to be here . . . unless someone from the Council specifically asked you to . . .” I started scanning through the futures. Who was Caldera waiting for?

  “You can go now,” Caldera said.

  The future I was looking for came into focus and I snapped my fingers. “Sonder.” I pointed at Caldera. “He’s the reason you’re here. And you’re waiting for him to show up so he can look back to see what happened.” I paused. “So do you still need me to go? I’m pretty sure I already know anything I’d learn from seeing Sonder show up, but if it’s important . . .”

  Caldera sighed. “Goddamn it. Do you have any idea how annoying you are?”

  That was more or less what I’d said to Luna. Maybe I was teaching her bad habits. “Look, I’m sorry about the fight. If I’d known it was you—”

 
“You know what?” Caldera said. “I’m going to do what I ought to do more often. I’m making you someone else’s problem.”

  We stood in silence for a little while. My chest and hands still ached a little from the scuffle. “So, you practice judo?” I asked. “That felt like a hip throw.”

  “Just the techniques,” Caldera said. “I don’t have a belt.” She eyed me. “What was that thing you hit me with?”

  “Dispelling focus.”

  “You get into fights with mages that often?”

  “It’s meant more for constructs. Just out of curiosity, how much of that strength of yours is muscle and how much is magic?”

  “Drop by the gym some day and find out.”

  I grinned at her. “Is that a challenge?”

  Caldera’s phone rang and she moved off again to answer it. I took the opportunity to send Luna another message, telling her where to run into Sonder. He was only a few minutes out, and it didn’t take long before I heard his voice and Luna’s echoing up the stairs.

  Sonder is a Light mage with messy hair and glasses, twenty-two years old but still with a teenager’s awkwardness. He’s actually younger than Luna, Anne, and Variam, but he’s a journeyman mage while they’re still apprentices, despite the fact that all three could probably take him in a fight. (In theory, your rank in the Light Council is a reflection of your skill as a mage, but in practice good connections count for a lot more than ability, which I suppose isn’t very different from most jobs.)

  Sonder and I used to get on pretty well, at least until last year. Anne wasn’t the only mage who’d had a problem with what I’d done to the Nightstalkers; Sonder really isn’t comfortable with violence, and his finding out how I’d dealt with the adepts last summer had pretty much killed our friendship. I’d made a few attempts to get back in touch with him and we’d met once or twice, but there had been a distance in his manner which hadn’t been there before. I wasn’t expecting this conversation to go well.