Alex Verus 5: Hidden

by Benedict Jacka

  “Do you want to come in?”

  “Sure.” Anne stepped inside and glanced up. “Did you know you’ve got a fox in your kitchen?”

  I sighed. “I don’t suppose that lifesight is any good for figuring out what blink foxes eat?”

  | | | | | | | | |

  “. . . and they didn’t ask much else,” Anne said fifteen minutes later. We were sitting in the living room; the muffled crunch of eating came from the kitchen. “They didn’t seem to care about anything except Crystal.”

  “Did they give you any trouble?”

  “Not compared to last time.”

  “That’s not saying much.”

  “It’s not, is it?” Anne said. “I think my standards are getting low.”

  “Did you come here from the station?”

  “Vari picked me up. We . . . had a lot to talk about.”

  The crunching sounds from the kitchen stopped. A moment later the blink fox trotted into the living room, jumped up onto the sofa, turned around several times before settling down in a tight curl, nose to tail, yawned loudly, then laid its head down and appeared to go to sleep.

  “What’s it doing here?” Anne asked curiously.

  “I have no idea,” I said in annoyance. “I thought this thing was trying to get away from mages. I figured as soon as I gave it a way out, it’d disappear into London and we’d never see it again. I wasn’t expecting it to walk into my bloody living room.”

  Anne smiled slightly. “Maybe it trusts you.”

  “Don’t know why.” I looked at the fox; it seemed to have gone to sleep. I couldn’t figure out why it would let its guard down like that. If my experience of mages had been limited to ones like Sagash and his apprentices, I wouldn’t have been that keen to find more of them. But everyone has their own story . . .

  I stole a glance at Anne. She was sitting quietly on the other end of the sofa, dressed in her street clothes, looking out the window at the Camden nightlights. Yet only yesterday I’d seen her walk into a duelling circle, bloodied and half dressed and surrounded by enemies, and destroy Crystal in five seconds flat. No matter how vivid the memory, it was hard to match it with what I was seeing now. It really did feel as though she were a different person.

  “Do you mind if I ask you a favour?” Anne asked.

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “Vari and I went back and had a look at my flat in Honor Oak,” Anne said. “It’s not damaged or anything, but . . . well, after what happened, I think I need somewhere a bit safer. So I was wondering . . .”

  “Wondering?”

  “Whether you could help me set up some defences,” Anne said. “Like you’ve got here. Gate wards and things, so people can’t just teleport into my bedroom. Sonder’s letting me stay over for now but . . . sooner or later I’d like to have my own place. Somewhere safe.”

  I looked at Anne for a second, then nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”

  There was a pause. Anne hadn’t brought up the subject of what I’d told her before that duel, and it was making me feel awkward. If she was upset, she wasn’t showing it.

  Well, maybe you should stop guessing and ask. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” I said. “About what I said at the arena. I didn’t mean to . . .” To hurt her? That had been exactly what I’d been trying to do. Okay, so telling the truth might not be the most diplomatic option . . .

  Anne looked down at the blink fox. It was snoozing, its chest rising and falling very slightly. “If you hadn’t told me that, I’d probably be dead.”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Vari was telling me about what happened while I was gone,” Anne said, looking up at me. “Did you know that he and Luna were looking for a way to gate into Sagash’s shadow realm?”

  “I heard,” I said. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about the fact that one of the things I’d told Anne in that arena had actually been true. If Vari and Luna had been able to pull it off, they might have saved us both . . . and they might have died pointless deaths.

  “I told Vari he shouldn’t have been trying to go after me,” Anne said, partly echoing my thoughts. “He said he didn’t care, he’d have done it anyway. It made me . . .” Anne trailed off, started again. “I know I haven’t been the easiest person to be friends with lately. I knew I was in danger, but . . . I never really put it together that I was putting all of you in danger too.”

  “You ought to be thanking Luna,” I said. “She was the one who pushed me into going back to your flat.”

  “I will. But . . . you didn’t give up on me, even when I wanted you to.” Anne looked at me. “I won’t forget that.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t make a habit of it, okay? I really don’t want to go jumping into any more shadow realms after you.”

  Anne smiled slightly. “No, I think I got the message this time.”

  We sat quietly for a little while. The fox opened one eye briefly, then stretched out on its side and went back to sleep. “That other version of you that I met in Elsewhere,” I said. “Do you talk to her?”

  Anne shook her head.

  “Maybe you should try.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think . . .” I hesitated, trying to figure out how to say it. “I think you’ve been so afraid of that side of yourself that you’ve gone too far the other way. You’ve been pushing yourself to be good and peaceful all the time, and you don’t have any kind of safety valve. I know I might not be the best role model but . . . speaking from experience, accepting your dark side works a lot better than trying to shut it away.”

  “Even after seeing her?” Anne said quietly.

  “I’m not saying I’d like to have her around for dinner. But I don’t think it’d be a bad thing if you let yourself act a little bit more like that.” I shrugged. “Besides, if she can’t reach you, you can’t reach her. If you always keep her shut away, then how’s she ever going to get better?”

  Anne looked surprised, then thoughtful. Talking to Anne felt more comfortable now. Somehow I’d never really noticed how much she’d been keeping back until she started doing less of it.

  “Have you heard anything more about Richard?” Anne asked.

  I shook my head.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. I got up and walked to the window to stare out into the night, then sighed slightly. “But I know what I need to be doing.”

  Anne waited, listening. The living room was silent but for the whisper of nighttime traffic. “Back when I first met you, my life was . . . I want to say easier, but that’s wrong. Simpler, maybe? It wasn’t safe, but all the dangerous stuff was temporary. I always knew that if I could just last it out, then things would go back to normal. And when that was done I spent most days running my shop. I had time.”

  “And now you don’t,” Anne said.

  “You remember the last thing that Richard said? ‘Until next time.’ He doesn’t give up.” I turned to look at Anne. “He’ll be back. I don’t know how, or when. But there’s a clock now. A month, six months, two years—I don’t know how long, but I can feel it ticking. And when it runs out, if I don’t have what I need . . .” I shook my head. “Most of the last ten years, I’ve been drifting. I can’t do that, not anymore. I need to be ready.”

  “Not just you,” Anne said. “We.”

  “You know how powerful Richard is,” I said. “He’ll have allies.”

  “So do you,” Anne said. “Luna, Vari, Arachne. Me. And the mages you know from the Council, like Sonder and Talisid. You’re not Richard’s apprentice anymore. You’ve got friends.”

  I looked back at Anne, then smiled slightly. “I guess that’s a good start.”

  I stayed standing by the window. After a moment Anne rose, moving next to me. We stood side by side, looking out into the darkness of the Camden n
ight.