Silence. I could sense Crash, Stickleback, and Jumper looking at one another. Caldera stared between them. “What are you doing?” she said again, more sharply. “You’re not listening to this shit?”
Jumper said something to Crash, and Crash answered, both of them speaking rapid-fire Japanese. Stickleback interjected something, and a quick three-way exchange took place.
“Hey!” Caldera said. “Talk to me!”
Crash looked back at her. “We need to confer.” He made a signal. Jumper and Stickleback moved up, closing on his position in a few quick strides. Crash watched my position warily right up until Jumper put his hands on Crash’s and Stickleback’s shoulders, and the three of them teleported out.
And all of a sudden, Caldera and I were alone.
“Well,” I said. I took the sling of the MP7 off my shoulder and walked out into the open. “Looks like it’s just the two of us.”
Caldera glared at me. “If they come back—”
“You really think they’re going to?”
Caldera didn’t answer. There was a kind of baffled fury in her eyes. Once again, the ground had been cut out from underneath her, and she didn’t know how.
I nodded past Caldera to the glass observation gallery and the door set into the wall underneath. “Levistus is through there. I’d appreciate it if you could let me pass.”
“Well, you’re shit out of luck then, aren’t you?”
“I suggest a compromise,” I told her. “You withdraw and call for reinforcements. Once they show up, you can come after me again and we’ll carry on where we left off.”
“A compromise?”
I shrugged. “Nobody’s happy, but nobody’s dead.”
Caldera stared at me in disbelief. “Screw you.”
“Fine,” I said. “A contest, then. Just like our old sparring matches. I get one good hit through your defences, you withdraw. If you get one good hit on me, then I will.”
“A contest? You think that’s what this is?”
“I’m trying to—”
“No,” Caldera said. “Shut up. You do not get to talk. You and your psycho girlfriend just walked in here and killed everyone in this room. And before that, the two of you helped kill an entire base’s worth of Council people, including a member of the Senior Council. And before that, the two of you killed another base’s worth of security at San Vittore. And now you walk up and tell me you want me to withdraw so you can add another Senior Council member to your body count, and you actually have the fucking arrogance to think I’ll let you?”
I looked at Caldera in silence.
“I can’t believe I ever sponsored you to the Keepers,” Caldera said. “Slate and the rest gave me so much shit for that, but I stuck up for you. I put my neck on the line for you! And you pay me back with this?” Caldera snorted in a half laugh. “You are going to go down in history as the worst traitor the Light Council’s ever had! And when mages look up the records to find out how you ever made it into the Keepers, they’ll find my name as the reason why!”
“I think you should be less worried about the history books and more about the next five minutes.”
“Shut up!” Caldera shouted. “I’m sick of how you think this is a joke! Being a Keeper is supposed to matter! The law is supposed to matter! But all you give a shit about is yourself!”
“The law is whatever the Council says it is,” I said. “They signed a piece of paper, and I became a criminal. They signed another, and I wasn’t. Their whims write the laws; the Keepers enforce it. And at the end of the chain, some unlucky mage or adept gets sentenced to death because a Senior Councillor was able to get four votes instead of three by blackmailing the others with a bunch of sex tapes.”
“You sound like every other Dark mage,” Caldera said. “You think I don’t know about the Council’s dirty secrets? I was dealing with this shit back when you were fleecing teenagers for crystal balls. But at least I work for something bigger than myself. For you, all that matters is Alex Verus.”
“Working for something bigger than yourself? All the times we hauled off some adept to the cells, or played the heavy, you think that makes it okay?”
“Yeah, I’ve arrested a lot of adepts,” Caldera said. “Mages too. You know what I didn’t do?” Her arm shot out towards the corpse-filled hallway. “I didn’t go fucking judge-jury-executioner on everyone who got in my way!”
“No,” I said contemptuously. “You just threw them in a cell and washed your hands of what happened afterwards. Just following orders, right, Caldera? That way, nothing is ever your fault.”
“You know, I’m done talking with you,” Caldera said. She stepped back into a combat stance and beckoned. “Bring it.”
“I gave you one warning,” I said softly. “This is your second. That’s more than I’m in the habit of giving these days.”
Caldera spat.
I closed in. Caldera held her ground, watching me narrowly. I made a few attacks, probing. Caldera batted them away but didn’t try to counter. She was fighting defensively, not giving any openings.
I’d sparred against Caldera many times, back when we were both Keepers. Once we’d had a chance to get a feel for each other, the matches had usually ended in stalemate. Caldera wasn’t quick enough to catch me, and I wasn’t strong enough to hurt her. In the end I’d have to back off, or be worn down.
I slipped past Caldera’s guard to hit her with a palm strike to the head. The impact stung and jarred my arm; Caldera barely noticed. I withdrew slowly, leaving a clear opening, but again Caldera didn’t take it. She just watched, eyes hard and suspicious.
No good. I wasn’t going to lure her into a trap. Well, in that case . . .
I focused my magesight on the spells reinforcing Caldera’s body. The earth magic flowed through her limbs, sluggish and heavy. In one pocket I carried a slim metal dispel focus. It could break Caldera’s protective spells, leave her vulnerable. Trouble was, I’d used that trick before, and Caldera would be expecting it. She’d pull back instantly, giving ground while she rebuilt her spells, and she could do it fast.
Well, I’d give her what she expected, then.
I slid the dispel focus into my left hand, my dagger into my right. I kept them concealed, but Caldera shifted her stance in reaction. I began circling, feinting and sliding, looking for an opening. As I did I began to weave together a future, twining several strands to converge on a single target.
The future grew, strengthened, drew closer. I feinted again and struck.