“My memories are distant, but they have been growing clearer.”
I nodded. “I’m looking for a shadow realm with some particular characteristics. Specifically, a deep shadow realm.”
“What characteristics?”
I explained.
Karyos frowned. “I believe there are one or two. But much time has passed. I do not know if they may have changed.”
“It’s a place to start,” I said. “Give me the details and I’ll go check them out.”
“Do you really think these negotiations will work?” November asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “The Council might decide that now I have access to your files, it’s too dangerous to try to destroy me. On the other hand, they might decide it’s too dangerous not to try to destroy me. It’s too big a decision for me to swing. I’ll just have to wait and see which way they jump.”
“When will you know?”
“I’ve already put out a feeler to Talisid,” I said. “I don’t think it’ll be long.”
* * *
—
Talisid got back to me only a couple of hours later, arranging a call for that same evening. It was nice to know I’d be getting a definite answer, but I had no idea whether it’d be a good one.
As evening approached I went to a similar location to the one I’d used for my last call, and went through a similar set of preparations. One thing was different: the futures didn’t have any Council Keepers gating in on top of me. Apparently the Council had suspended their hunting operations, which was a hopeful sign. Once I’d finished, I leant against a tree and closed my eyes. The day’s warmth had faded with the setting sun, and the breeze felt cool as it stirred my clothes and hair.
Faces swam in my mind’s eye. Cinder and Rachel. Morden and Richard. Arachne, Anne. Links and plans and traps, past and future, all shrouded in fog.
Once I’d been a simple shopkeeper. I’d had little power, but with that lack of power had come freedom. I’d lived as I pleased, and no one had noticed or cared. Now I had all the power in the world, and no freedom at all.
My communicator chimed. I straightened, opened my eyes, and activated the disc. “Talisid,” I said.
“Mage Verus,” Talisid said.
You can tell a lot from how someone opens a conversation. Talisid had called on time, and his voice had a subtle but definite note of caution. So far so good. “I assume you’ve been briefed on yesterday’s developments.”
“I believe so,” Talisid said carefully.
“That’s fine. I think you understand the important parts. I’d like to carry on where we left off. You remember our last conversation?”
“As I recall, you were requesting a ceasefire.”
No scare quotes around ceasefire: also good. “So let’s try this again,” I said. “Is the Council willing to reconsider?”
“Why would you expect them to be?”
“Because if they don’t, I’ll blow them up,” I said. “Metaphorically, not literally. Though I think they’d rather deal with a literal explosion than the political fallout from this. I’m pretty sure I can bring down . . . oh, three or four of the current Senior Council? Not really the best timing, is it, with you being in the middle of a war? Especially not with Richard Drakh still carrying out successful strikes like yesterday’s. I imagine it really wouldn’t help to have your leadership paralysed with a political crisis.”
“The Council does not respond well to threats.”
“Funny, they spend enough time threatening everyone else. I know you’ve got them on the line. Go get your orders.”
Silence. I stood there and watched the swirl of futures. Nothing useful.
“What exactly are you proposing?” Talisid asked eventually.
“A ceasefire, like I said. Amusing as it would be to watch, I don’t actually have any particular interest in causing a political catastrophe for you guys. You halt your operations against me and my associates, and you don’t carry out any further ones. In exchange, I’ll keep my recent information windfall to myself.”
“That hardly seems like an even trade.”
“How is that not an even trade? Stopping your attacks on me costs you nothing. In fact, it costs you less than nothing, because you’ll be able to take the resources you’ve been deploying against me and use them against Richard’s cabal instead. You remove a threat and free up personnel, all without lifting a finger.”
“The problem is security,” Talisid said. “Once you have what you want, there’ll be nothing to stop you from taking the information you have and distributing it anyway.”
“And there’ll be nothing to stop you from going right back to hunting me.”
“We have considerably more to lose than you do,” Talisid said. “I’m sorry, but we’re not willing to accept any arrangement with you holding a sword over our heads.”
“Funny, I’ve been living with that for years,” I said. “But fine. You don’t like the deal, come up with a better one.”
“Hold, please.”
More silence. I tried to imagine how the argument between the Council members must be going. I had the feeling that Levistus was very unpopular right now.
The pause dragged out. Five minutes passed, then ten. At last Talisid’s voice came from the focus. “Mage Verus?”
“I’m still here.”
“The Council has come to an agreement,” Talisid said. “We are . . . conditionally . . . willing to grant your request. If you agree to our terms, you will be granted a full amnesty and pardon for your actions connected to the incident at San Vittore, as well as to any actions taken during your period as a fugitive.”
“What kind of terms?”
“I am given to understand that your ‘information windfall’ is in fact a self-aware storage system and imbued item that you took possession of yesterday,” Talisid said. “The Council wants it returned.”
I didn’t answer.
“Mage Verus?”
“I heard,” I said. “I’m just trying to think what possible reason I could have for saying yes.”
“As I said, we are willing to grant your request. This is what we require in exchange.”
“Why?” I said.
“Consider it a show of commitment.”
“I can see how it’s a show of commitment for me. Not seeing how it’s much of one for you.”