The jinn had watched the entire exchange from the edge of the room. Now it stepped back, fading into shadow. Its shape merged with the darkness and it too was gone.
Wisps of light were rising from my skin, dangerously bright. I stared down at the space where Shireen had been, then with an effort tore my eyes away to make a gateway back to the physical world. But before I did I took one last look at the mirror.
Rachel’s reflection was still standing there, still bearing the same horrific wounds, still holding my knife. She met my eyes through the mirror, lifted her free hand, and waved her bloodstained fingers with a secret smile.
A thrill of terror went through me. I turned and fled.
* * *
—
Cinder was waiting for me in the chapel, standing in the centre of the room. He was favouring one leg and arm, but otherwise showed no sign of injury. As I walked in through the archway he looked at me in silent question.
I came to a stop and looked back at him.
We stood facing each other for a long moment, then Cinder turned and walked away. His magelight followed as he climbed the stairs, leaving me alone in the dark.
As the sound of his footsteps faded, a bolt of pain shot through my right arm, making me gasp. I staggered to the wall, leaning against it for support. It was too dark to see, but as I slid my left arm inside my clothes, my fingers felt the cool, too-smooth material of the fateweaver above my bicep. There were only a couple of inches of flesh left below my shoulder.
I put my back against the wall, slid down to a sitting position, then leant my head back against the stone and closed my eyes. I needed to visit the shadow realms that Karyos had marked out for me. I needed to prepare for the Council, and for Richard, and for Anne. But right now I wanted to sit, and remember the apprentice I’d once been.
chapter 10
But the interior defences are another story,” Chalice finished. “And those are likely to be the most important.”
“That’s fine,” I said. It was Monday and we were in the same park in which I’d met Cinder, shielded by the greenery. I was leaning against a tree, flipping through the folder that Chalice had handed me. “It’s the location I’m most concerned about. You’re sure this is his primary base of operations?”
“As sure as I can be,” Chalice said. “It’s very likely that he also has a personal bubble or shadow realm that he keeps for private use. But this is definitely his primary base. There’s too much traffic for it to be anything else.”
“Good.”
There was a pause. “You don’t need to worry,” I said without looking up. “The Council aren’t tracking me. At least not at the moment.”
“You may say that,” Chalice said, “but that doesn’t change the fact that right now you’re one of the most wanted mages in Britain. Even Crystal wasn’t this high priority a target.”
“Crystal’s dead.”
“Really?”
I flipped another page. “Anne killed her a few weeks back.”
Chalice is slim and a little shorter than average, with light brown skin. She has a graceful, composed manner, but she’d seemed uncomfortable from the start of this meeting. Her next words confirmed why.
“Verus, I haven’t asked you any questions about why you wanted this information,” Chalice said. “However . . . there really aren’t all that many possible explanations.”
I closed the folder and looked up. “Is this the kind of thing you’re uncomfortable with?”
“Frankly, yes,” Chalice said. “Back when I did that research on Lightbringer and Zilean, I thought it was a one-off. I wasn’t expecting you to make a habit of it.”
“Are you concerned I might come after you?”
Chalice paused, her dark eyes weighing me. “No,” she said at last. “But there will be consequences.”
“I understand,” I said. What Chalice was leaving unsaid was that I was running out of credit. This was the second such favour she’d done for me in a short time, and she wanted something back. I tapped the folder against my leg, thinking. “From some of the things you’ve said, you’ve made it sound as if you care about the way this country works. There are things you’d like to see happen, and things you’d like to avoid.”
“Yes . . .”
“How interested would you be in politics?”
“In what sense?”
I shrugged. “For all their talk, the Council hasn’t actually gotten around to revoking that law about having a Dark mage on the Junior Council. Once all this is over, they’ll need one, and that person’ll need an aide.”
Chalice looked taken aback.
“Have a think about it,” I said. “If not, we can work something out.”
“I . . . will,” Chalice said slowly. She started to turn away, then paused. “You’ve changed a great deal.”
“A lot of people have been telling me that.”
Chalice nodded and left.
* * *
—
My conversation with Talisid had taken place on Saturday. Nailing down a time and place for the exchange took far too long, but I was finally able to get him to agree to meet at the shadow realm of my choosing on Tuesday noon.
The delay left me tense and on edge. I needed the time—I had a lot of things to set up—but the clock was ticking and everything was taking longer than I’d hoped. When I first thought up this plan, I’d figured that if things went wrong, I could always back off and try again. Now, I wasn’t so sure. If I didn’t pull this off, I might not be able to do it at all.
Tuesday dawned bright and clear. I went to London to make final preparations.
* * *
—
All right,” I told November. “Mike and speakers should be connected. Give it a try.”
“Testing, testing,” November said, his voice sounding through the speakers. “Feedback is good. I believe everything’s operational.”
“Good,” I said, managing not to roll my eyes. For someone who communicated largely through radio signals and the internet, November was absurdly picky about audio equipment. I suppose if the only ears I had were electronic ones, I’d have high standards too. “The rent on this flat is paid through the next three months, and you’ve got the bill accounts. There shouldn’t be anyone coming to the address, but if there is, get in touch.”
“Yes, well . . . ,” November said. “About that. I’m not quite sure how to say this . . .”