I took a few things. A crystal vial, seemingly fragile, with something glowing inside. A headband of beaten copper, dull and tarnished, worked into the shape of a crown of feathers. Finally, there was a long, spear-like weapon, suspended in some kind of containment field. The haft was black, and though it had been a long time, I thought I recognised it as a Russian design called a sovnya. Both it and the copper headband were imbued items, and possibly the vial too. I held them cautiously at arm’s length, keeping a neutral mental posture, carefully not attempting to claim them, but even so I could feel them stir and uncoil as they reacted to my presence.
I gated out and through a series of staging points, jumping from continent to continent.
Night had long since fallen by the time I got back to the Hollow, and as the gate closed behind me, it was all I could do not to collapse. The aftershock of the combat was starting to hit, and I wanted to run away and fall asleep and throw up. I dumped the imbued items and my weapons, then stripped off my armour and fell into bed. I was asleep in seconds. Dimly, I was afraid of what dreams would come, but if I had any, I was too far gone to remember.
* * *
—
There’s a very specific feeling when you wake up in the morning with something hanging over you. It makes your stomach and heart sink, a mixture of anxiety over what you did and worry over what’s going to happen next. When you’re young, you get it for things like an overdue library book, or a fight with another child. As you get older, you outgrow worries like that, but you don’t outgrow the feeling at all—you just get it for different reasons. For some people, it’ll be fear of a bad grade, or an angry manager. For others, it’s money, or the police.
But I’m fairly sure no one else woke up that particular morning wondering what was going to happen now that they’d just assassinated one of the leading politicians in the country. It was so extreme that I had trouble grasping it. There are lots of people who’ll tell you how to handle a bad breakup, or losing your job. There isn’t much advice out there on how to deal with killing a government minister and their entire personal staff.
I dressed, cleaned my teeth, and shaved. The imbued items I’d stolen last night sat around the room, their presence oppressive. I didn’t want to eat with them watching me, so I took some fruit and a protein bar out of the cottage and ate my breakfast sitting on a fallen tree in the Hollow’s morning sun. After the chaos and ugliness of last night, it was a relief to look at the sunlight and feel the wind.
Karyos arrived just as I was finishing up. The hamadryad seemed to glide through the undergrowth without brushing it, almost as if the plants bent aside to let her pass. “We have a visitor.”
I paused, holding the remains of my apple. “Outside?”
Karyos nodded. “He has disturbed the sensors but has not attempted entry. I believe he is waiting for a response.”
“Anyone you know?”
“No.”
I looked quickly through the futures to see who I’d find if I stepped out of the Hollow and to its mirrored location in the Chilterns. My eyebrows rose. “Huh.”
“Do you recognise him?”
“Yes,” I said. “He’s a Light mage, and very powerful. I don’t think he’s an enemy though.” Or at least he hadn’t been before last night.
“Will you receive him?”
I thought about it for a second and then nodded.
* * *
—
The gateway at the Hollow’s entry point opened and Landis stepped through.
Landis is tall and rangy, with sandy-coloured hair and an abrupt way of moving. He spends half his time acting oblivious and the other half acting like a lunatic, but I’ve learned over the years that he’s more observant than he looks.
Landis is one of the most dangerous battle-mages I know. He’s not well-known outside of the Order of the Shield, but he’s as experienced and powerful as any elemental mage I’ve ever met, and even with the fateweaver, I wouldn’t like to take him on. Which was a problem, because as a member of the Order of the Shield, he had a duty to at least arrest me, and more likely kill me on sight. Inviting him in was a risk, but right now both my instincts and my divination were telling me that he was here to talk.
“Ah, Verus!” Landis said. “So good of you to see me on such short notice. I imagine you must have a busy schedule these days.”
“That’s one way to put it,” I said. “Why are you here?”
Landis looked from left to right at the forests of the Hollow, smiling. “This really is a wonderful shadow realm. ‘A thing of beauty is a joy for ever,’ as they say. I must remember to visit more often once this is all over.”
“It’s very pretty, yes,” I said wearily. “Landis, I don’t mean to be rude, but I just killed around a dozen people last night. I’m not really in the mood for discussing aesthetics.”
“Yes, I know. I find it’s important to centre oneself at such times.”
I looked at Landis. He looked back at me pleasantly.
“Would you like to take a walk?” I asked.
“Of course.”
We began to stroll through the woods of the Hollow, the path winding gently between trees and through clearings. “I imagine you’re wondering whose side I’m on,” Landis said.
“You’re a Keeper of the Order of the Shield,” I told Landis. “You answer to the Council, which means at any time they could order you to go kill me, and you’d be forced to do exactly that. Don’t get me wrong; I appreciate all you’ve done for us. But it seems to me it’s going to be very hard for us to stay friends.”
Landis nodded. “Quite understandable. Have you noticed that virtually no Keepers from the Order of the Shield have been sent after you?”
That caught me off guard. I thought for a second, going through names. “There have been a couple.”
“Ares and McCole. Both have extensive ties to Council Intelligence.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll bite. Why haven’t the Order of the Shield been sent after me?”
“Because senior members of the Order of the Shield—notably myself—have politely but firmly communicated to the Council that we view pursuing you as counterproductive.”
I looked at Landis with a frown. He looked back at me with eyebrows raised. We continued to walk through the woods of the Hollow.
“You’ve been protecting me,” I said.
“Effectively.”
“Why?”
“For years now, some among us have recognised that Levistus was more dangerous to the Council than Richard Drakh could ever be. Drakh struck at the Council from outside; Levistus was rotting it from within. Worst of all, Levistus had displayed a disturbing ability to suborn or blackmail others to his will. In another ten years, he would have been a dictator.”