Shadow and Storm

by Juliet Kemp

  “But there isn’t an option?” Cato said.

  “Once you’re in, you stay, or you fail,” Tait said. Cato had a sneaking suspicion that ‘failing’ in this context didn’t mean you got a cheery handshake and booted out of the back door. He kicked himself for not having followed up on Tait’s initial references to the Academy until just now; he’d meant to, and then he’d forgotten about it. If he’d known all of this, he might have thought a bit more seriously about this business of the Teren Lieutenant and her claims – her lies – about demons, and what the implications of those lies might be.

  “So if you’d banished the demon and then said, no thanks, I want out?”

  Tait shook their head with utter conviction. “No. You can’t just leave. You can’t just stop. That’s why I ran.”

  “Right,” Cato said. “So. You ran away. If they let you run, what happens? Everyone will be at it. But if they drag you back and feed you to a demon… it shows their power. It shows there isn’t an option. Or, I suppose, they could feed you to a demon down here and report it back, but it would work better if it’s more public.”

  Tait swallowed. “Punishment is… usually in public, yes.”

  “The demon is here,” Beckett said impatiently. “Trying to get in. I want it to go. Why are we talking about this?”

  “To find out how to achieve that,” Cato said patiently. “Look. If Tait raised it and didn’t banish it, and we feed them to it, then fine, it goes away. But if someone else raised it again, bound it, and set it on Tait – which I am pretty sure is what has happened here – then we wouldn’t achieve anything.”

  “It would have what it wants and it would go away,” Beckett said.

  “I am not feeding anyone to a demon just to get rid of it unless there is absolutely no fucking alternative,” Cato said. “End of story. And it’s hardly Tait’s fault that they’re being chased.” He looked over at Tait and winced. “There will be an alternative. I’m not falling for that wretched story that Teren woman fed me.” Except he had fallen for it, when Selene had spun him the yarn, which was perhaps part of why he was so angry. He took a breath. “Do we have to care, if it just hangs around outside Marek?

  “It won’t,” Jonas said. His face was pale, and he was fiddling with his hair. “It wants in.”

  Beckett was scowling. “I am not invulnerable. My power is not unlimited.”

  “Your power is the whole life-force of Marek,” Cato said. “That might not be unlimited, but it’s surely bigger than any other spirit can call on while they’re here.” Cato knew spirits could do a great deal while in their own plane – he’d rather counted on that, in fact, when working with them – but were rather weaker, though still more than strong enough for human purposes, while they were wholly over here. Of course, mostly Beckett wasn’t over here either; mostly, Beckett stayed spirit-side, and handled their peculiar connection to Marek from there. Or something like that. Cato would be the first to admit that he wasn’t… entirely clear on the matter, because before this year it had never bloody mattered.

  “You misunderstand,” Beckett said. “I will not accept this continued threat of intrusion. I will not accept this draw on my power. We must break the link, and the link is through that one.” They nodded at Tait.

  “Well, if you’re certain the link is through Tait, I suppose that confirms that it’s them it’s after.” Cato looked over at Tait. “Still doesn’t make it your fault.”

  “Even if I didn’t summon it,” Tait said, their voice shaking a little, “if it wants me… killing me will get rid of it, won’t it? It’ll protect Marek.” They straightened up, set their shoulders.

  “Very well,” Beckett said, and raised their hands.

  “No!” Cato yelped.

  Beckett turned and scowled at him. “This is not endurable.”

  “I can’t believe that there’s no way other than Tait dying to break this link of yours. Especially since Tait didn’t damn well summon the thing. Not this time, anyway. I will not give in to sodding Teren on this.” Especially not when he’d been lied to. He rubbed at his forehead. There had to be another solution. “Let’s go through this again. You summoned it, you didn’t do anything much with it, you sent it back again, someone else raised it and set it on you. Giving it some kind of link to you, which we need to break.”

  “There is a simple solution,” Beckett said, in what they probably thought was a quiet voice.

  “No! For pity’s sake Beckett, have some patience.”

  “Marek’s in danger,” Jonas said, tension thrumming through his voice. “We may not have much time for patience.”

  “Look. We can always just kill Tait, any time,” Cato said, through his teeth. “Especially since they’ve just expressed their intention not to resist. Let’s take a few minutes to see if we actually have to, all right? We have three sorcerers here, even if Tait knows a different form of magic. Are we all entirely useless?”

  “It might be linked to me, but it’s not bound to me the way I recognise,” Tait said. Which at least suggested they’d accepted Cato’s argument about the banishing. “I can’t feel anywhere to push. I can’t feel that it’s there at all.” Their voice wobbled.

  “Wait!” Cato said. “Hang on. It’s not bound to you, but Beckett says it’s linked. So. Talk me through how this stuff works for you, in Teren. If you summon a demon, and bind it, do you just bind it to the sorcerer, or to the job that you want it to do?”

  “Both, usually,” Tait said.

  “Usually. Right. And this one is outside Marek, in this plane, and it’s linked to you. You’re not the sorcerer that bound it – which means there must be someone out there who did, but I don’t think that’s relevant right now – you’re the job.”

  “That’s right,” Tait said. They were frowning at Cato. “Or – not necessarily. But probably, if there’s a link.”

  “There is a link,” Beckett said again.

  Cato ground his teeth and just about managed not to tell the cityangel to shut up; restraint made easier by the fact that he could feel his fingers beginning to tingle with rising glee. He could feel the edge of a solution. “So… if we have strength, and we have a link… who’s to say that we can’t just break it.”

  Tait’s expression hadn’t changed. If anything, they just looked more bemused. “But you can’t give me your strength.”

  “No,” Cato agreed. “But Beckett can. And Beckett can take our strength. Right?”

  Beckett still looked sulky, but marginally less so. “I may not be able to link to this one. They are not Mareker.”

  “Try it and find out?” Cato suggested. “If Tait doesn’t mind?”

  Tait shrugged. “It’s this or get eaten by a demon. Or whatever else the Academy can think up. Try whatever you want.”

  Beckett’s expression grew concentrated, then they looked over at Tait. Tait flinched, then their eyes widened, and they stared at Beckett. Beckett, suddenly, looked slightly less grim. Cato could feel his own victorious grin. Then Beckett blinked, and Tait flinched again, and rubbed at their arms.

  “It will work,” Beckett said, unnecessarily.

  “Well then,” Cato said. He’d realised what they were missing, although he didn’t much like it. “We need as much power as possible, which means we’re currently short one sorcerer. Let’s go find Reb.”

  He was not looking forward to this conversation. But Reb was a soft touch. Sort of. She’d be up for this.

  k k

  Beckett had disappeared into nowhere, and would doubtless reappear from nowhere again at Reb’s place. As they made their way across Marek, Cato was bracing himself to not be incredibly pissed off at this. He realised that Jonas was hovering with intent, as much as one could hover whilst walking.

  “What’s up?” Cato asked.

  “Do we have to… I mean, can we…” He was looking shifty. “I’d rather not tell Reb about my flickers, just yet. Can’t we just let Beckett be the one who says about it all?”

&n
bsp; Cato considered the matter. Jonas was right; given that Beckett was making such an almighty fuss, the whole thing where Jonas was prophesying doom could probably be left out. It might even make for a somewhat smoother explanation, with fewer awkward moments and unnecessary side-tracks centring around the question of why Cato had not previously informed Reb about these flickers.

  “Fine,” he conceded. “Unless she won’t be convinced, in which case we might need it.”

  Jonas scowled, but nodded.

  “Did you hear that, Tait?” Cato asked. Tait was walking on his other side, shoulders hunched.

  “Eh? What?”

  “Leave out Jonas’ whole ‘foreseeing the future’ thing, yeah?”

  “Oh. Of course.” Tait’s good manners resurfaced, and they attempted a polite smile. Jonas didn’t look convinced.

  It was late afternoon now, the sun beginning to cast long shadows; there were dark clouds off in the distance, coming in towards the city. Just their luck if they had to go out to the city boundaries and chase off a demon in the rain.

  It didn’t take long to reach Reb’s. Cato could have wished, in fact, that it had taken a little longer.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Reb demanded, on opening the door. Then her gaze switched to Tait. “And you!” She glared viciously at Cato. “What is going on?”

  “How about, you let us in and we’ll explain,” Cato said.

  Reb’s eyes narrowed, and he thought she was about to refuse.

  Then Beckett, from behind her, said, “Let them in.”

  Reb actually jumped, which pleased Cato greatly, although he tried not to show it.

  “I told you not to do that,” Reb said, through her teeth, but she stepped back into the room and let them all in anyway.

  To Cato’s immense surprise, Marcia was there too, wearing what he recognised as the tunic that belonged under her full Council formal robe, and a deeply anxious look.

  “So,” Cato said, brightly. “Turns out there’s a demon on the doorstep – Marek’s doorstep, that is – which appears to be after Tait here. A bit like Selene said, except it wasn’t Tait’s fault.” He wasn’t sure Reb accepted that part, from the expression on her face, but he kept going. “Beckett can’t get rid of it on their own, but I think that together, using the link it’s made to Tait, we could manage it. Without feeding Tait to it. Are you in?”

  “No,” Reb said, flatly.

  Over her, Marcia said, “It’s Selene. Selene summoned it.”

  “Selene isn’t a sorcerer,” Cato said.

  “Then someone summoned it on her behalf,” Reb said, impatiently. “And I said. No.”

  Cato blinked. “The alternative is to feed Tait to it,” he said again, in case Reb had missed that part.

  Reb shrugged. “Why do I care?”

  “What the hell?” Cato demanded. “Aren’t you supposed to be all moral and stuff? Fuck knows you keep bloody lecturing me about my decisions.”

  “I don’t like demons,” Reb said. “And I don’t like sorcerers that run away from their mistakes.” She glared at Tait, then back at Cato. “I thought I warned you.”

  “You sent a message,” Cato agreed. It had been a bit too late by the time he’d got it, of course, but she had sent a message. “Yes indeed. But I think you were then, and apparently are still, under the impression that Tait failed to banish this thing. Not so. I am moderately certain that someone else dragged it back onto this plane and set it onto him, to avoid him getting away from their demons-as-guard-dogs setup.”

  “Cato. Stop. What in the hells are you going on about?”

  At least he’d got her attention now. Cato, as briefly as he could – which was more briefly than it might otherwise have been, given Beckett’s deep scowl and Tait’s look of being about to collapse inwards on themself – explained the whole situation with the Academy and Teren, as he understood it.

  “Setting demons on people?” Reb asked. She turned to stare at Tait, who nodded miserably. “You’re certain?”

  “Absolutely certain,” Tait said. “There wasn’t – I didn’t misunderstand. That was what they wanted.”

  Cato forebode to point out that not two minutes ago, Reb had been happy to have a demon set on a person. To be fair, she’d thought this situation was Tait’s fault; but still.

  “Tait ran away rather than comply,” Cato said, in case Reb had missed that part. “Seems understandable to me. Moral, even.” He gave the word a bit of a spin.

  Reb turned to Tait. “You didn’t tell me that.” She sounded annoyed. Possibly with Tait; possibly with herself. Possibly with Cato himself, come to that.

  Tait shrugged. “You didn’t seem like you wanted to believe me.” They were pulling at their fingers. “I don’t think I believed me, not really.”

  “I still don’t really want to believe you,” Reb admitted. “But…” She sighed. “I don’t want to believe Selene either, I suppose.”

  “I didn’t think much of Selene,” Cato muttered. Reb ignored him.

  “The demon is close to Marek,” Beckett said, apparently under the impression that any of them might be forgetting that part.

  “Does that mean it’ll do anything here, though?” Reb asked. “Must we barge out there and deal with it, which I assume is the aim given you’re all on my doorstep like this? Can’t we just wait for it to go away?”

  “Assuming it does go away,” Marcia said. “If you think this is Selene’s doing somehow – she’s really pissed off. And she wanted Tait back.”

  “She can’t get Tait while they’re in Marek,” Cato said. “So she can want whatever she likes. She isn’t getting it.”

  Just as he finished speaking, he felt a shiver in the air. Beckett swayed slightly.

  Reb looked sharply over at Beckett. Marcia hadn’t reacted.

  “Uh,” Cato said. “Who just felt that?”

  “Felt what?” Marcia demanded, at the same time as Reb and Jonas both nodded.

  “It is trying to get into Marek,” Beckett said, sounding much calmer than Cato felt they ought to.

  “But it can’t, right?” Cato demanded.

  “I will not permit it,” Beckett said.

  The shiver came again. Was it stronger?

  Cato licked his lips. “Uh. I ask this merely hypothetically, you understand, but… what happens if it keeps trying?”

  “I have the strength of Marek,” Beckett said. “I am stronger than any of my kind can possibly be.” Their voice held, perhaps, just a shade of nervousness.

  “How much of the strength of Marek are you using, though?” Cato asked.

  Beckett didn’t answer. Cato exchanged glances with Reb. He was fairly certain that Reb was drawing the same tentative conclusions as him. He turned his hand up, and made the gesture for a witchlight. The first trick he’d ever learnt as a baby sorcerer, still hiding out in his room in House Fereno and trying to work out what he was doing. Something he could do without effort or thought or concentration.

  There was a tiny, faint, flash above his fingertips. That was it.

  Reb, watching him, looked alarmed. She reached into her pocket for a pinch of something, tossed it into the air, and blew. The tiny pieces fluttered, without a twitch, to the ground.

  “Well, shit,” Reb said. “Beckett, you’re using all of Marek’s strength for this? There’s nothing left over?”

  “I will prevail,” Beckett said.

  “But what if you don’t?” Cato muttered under his breath, then, louder. “Or, we could deal with it ourselves, directly, right now. Get rid of the thing rather than waiting it out. Fine, Beckett can hold it off forever, or maybe it’ll tire out eventually,” it rather depended on the power source, and Cato wasn’t sure that Beckett could hold it off forever, but he didn’t want to head down that track, “but I’d really rather not find out how long that will take by destruction testing it. And Beckett said before that they didn’t want to have to keep doing this.”

  “The shadow’s coming closer,�
�� Jonas said, quietly. He was shivering, and his eyes looked distant. It was unnerving. Also, at this rate Jonas wasn’t going to be able to keep his damn secret that much longer. Reb wasn’t unobservant.

  Reb glared round at all of them, then threw her hands in the air. “Fine. Let’s go face down a sodding demon, then, and risk all of our lives instead of just one.”

  Cato winced. “I wasn’t planning on risking any lives.”

  “The demon is,” Jonas said.

  Once again, Cato exercised massive restraint in not just telling someone to shut up.

  “The Group of Marek should be stronger,” Beckett said.

  It was Reb’s turn to wince. “I know. I should have built things back up sooner,” she said.

  “Well,” Cato said. “You and I are strong. We have Beckett. And Jonas and Tait both have at least some ability.” He gestured at Tait. “Did Tait tell you that they opened a vein and sent off a dragon-bear? By themself?”

  “They’re hardly versed in Marek sorcery,” Reb said.

  “But Beckett will be right there,” Cato pointed out. “And will have to connect with Tait for any of this to work. It could hardly be easier to practise Marek sorcery, in the circumstances.”

  “Very well,” Reb said. “I suppose…” The air shivered again, and her lips tightened. “Well. There’s no time like the present. Let’s go.”

  “Finally,” Beckett said, and strode out of the door. The rest of them followed him like a set of magical ducklings.

  Cato managed to catch at Tait’s hand, as they went out of the door behind Reb, and smiled at them.

  “It’s going to be all right,” he said.

  Tait smiled wanly back, and Cato really, seriously, hoped he was telling the truth.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Cato shivered. The sun had disappeared entirely while they were in Reb’s house, covered over now with towering dark clouds. It ought just to be weather – it was autumn, it rained – except it didn’t feel like that at all. The streets were oddly empty. Cato decided against asking Beckett about that.

  They were passing the north end of Old Bridge, but Beckett didn’t turn. Cato was fairly sure he knew where they were going. Out to the wholesale market, where the carts brought goods in from Teren. The market itself was within Marek. At some point, out beyond that, where the road and the river went off towards Teren, it wasn’t Marek any more. What Cato didn’t know was where the boundary was. In the river dockyard? Further? Nearer?