Risen, p.31
Risen, page 31
part #12 of Alex Verus Series
The tourists come up to the counter and I shake it off, pushing away the darkness. I bag up their shopping, hear the bell go ding-ding, and watch them walk out of the shop into the morning sun.
Ji-yeong looks up from her phone. ‘So is he?’
‘Oh, come on! Really?’
She looks at me expectantly.
‘How would I even know something like that? I’m not a diviner.’
‘You were apprentice to a diviner.’
‘What’s that got to do with it?’
‘Apprentices are mostly like their masters.’ Ji-yeong says it like it’s something obvious. ‘Diviners like knowing things, so you’re probably like that too.’
‘You were apprentice to a paranoid murder-happy death mage with delusions of living for ever.’
‘So?’
I sigh and look away. Ji-yeong keeps waiting.
‘No,’ I tell her. ‘He’s not.’
Ji-yeong nods.
I’m thinking of what else to say when I notice someone’s standing outside the door. She’s heavy, a little like Caldera but with less muscle, and her name’s Saffron. She’s looking at me through the glass.
This day is just getting better and better.
The woman pushes open the door with a ding-ding, waits for it to shut behind her, then flips the sign from OPEN to CLOSED. ‘Morning, Vesta.’
‘Morning,’ I tell Saffron. If she’s not calling me ‘Mage’, I’m not calling her ‘Keeper’.
Saffron looks down at Ji-yeong. ‘How about you give us a few minutes?’
Ji-yeong looks up at her.
The friendliness slides off Saffron’s face. ‘Something wrong with your ears?’
I look at the two of them – the heavyset Keeper staring down at the Dark apprentice – and all of a sudden I’m annoyed. ‘She’s staying,’ I tell Saffron.
‘This is confidential.’
‘What, asking me the same questions again?’ I walk around the counter and over to Saffron, skirts whisking around my feet. I stop before coming into range of my curse – just – and fold my arms. ‘I was polite the first time, I was polite the second time, but now this is getting insulting.’
‘It’s just routine follow-up,’ Saffron says. She’s wearing her police poker face, but I’ve got the feeling she wants to lean away.
‘It is not,’ I tell her. ‘I know how short-handed you guys are. Variam was pulled off sick leave to take cases from your order. So don’t tell me that you coming here three times in three weeks is routine.’
Saffron stares at me for a few seconds. I don’t back down, and it’s Saffron who turns away. She walks around the shelves and herb rack, then leans on the counter and takes out a stick of gum. ‘They’ve done more auguries.’ She unwraps the gum and pushes it into her mouth. ‘Came out the same. Drakh is dead. Verus is dead. Anne Walker is alive.’
‘Okay?’
‘Tracking spells,’ Saffron said. She chews on her gum, then pushes it into her cheek. ‘No reading on Drakh, no reading on Verus, no reading on Walker.’
‘Which is what you expect from someone who can do a life shroud,’ I say. ‘Look, if you’re expecting me to help you find her, forget it. The deal was she got a full pardon.’
‘She’s not the problem,’ Saffron says. ‘Drakh is. Yeah, the auguries, but he’s blocked divinations before. How do we know he’s not doing it again? The Council wants a body. Something they can hold up and say: look, he’s dead, war’s over.’
‘Yeah, well, they’re going to have to get used to disappointment.’
‘You know what happened in that shadow realm?’
‘I know two different mages sensed Alex and Richard fighting in the keep right at the end,’ I tell her. ‘A death mage and a space mage, wasn’t it?’
‘How’d you hear that?’
I’m getting annoyed again. I don’t know whether Saffron does it on purpose or whether Keepers are just like this. ‘Oh, I don’t know, because I was there? Where were you, by the way? Don’t remember seeing you on the front lines.’
Saffron narrows her eyes a bit. Guess that one got through. ‘Anyway, where was I?’ I say. ‘Oh right. Now both of those sightings were right before the last Council mages got out. And according to Compass, by that point the whole place was on the edge of falling apart.’
‘Anne Walker made it out.’
‘Well, it doesn’t sound like anyone else did, does it?’
‘That’s not proof.’
‘Look, I don’t know what the Council thinks it’s going to get here,’ I tell her. ‘But if it’s really Drakh you’re worried about, then for what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure he’s dead.’
Saffron stares at me, chewing away at her gum. ‘All right,’ she says, and pushes herself off the counter. ‘We’re going to need you to sign a statement.’
‘I already signed a bloody statement. I’m not doing another because you can’t be bothered to dig the old one out of your filing cabinet.’
I expect Saffron to keep pushing but she doesn’t. ‘Thanks for your time,’ she tells me. She walks down the length of the shop, past me and Ji-yeong.
Ji-yeong and I watch her go.
Saffron puts her hand on the door handle, then suddenly looks back. ‘Where’s Verus?’
For a moment I feel a weird sensation, like a featherlight brush across my thoughts. But I know that trick and I don’t let my concentration slip. I keep my thoughts in the present, taking in the shop around me, the sight of Saffron at the door. I look straight at her and think very clearly. Try and read my mind again, and we’ll see how well my magic works on you.
Saffron flinches and the moment’s gone. I give her a smile. ‘I’m sorry. Did you say something?’
‘No,’ Saffron says flatly. She looks from me to Ji-yeong. ‘You two watch yourself.’ The bell goes ding-ding and she’s gone.
We watch her walk away up the road. Only when she’s out of sight do I sigh and let my shoulders slump.
‘She’s scared of you,’ Ji-yeong says.
‘Funny way of showing it.’ I look at the sign; it’s still on CLOSED and when I think about flipping it to OPEN something in me rebels. ‘I think I’m closing up for the day.’ Saying it makes me feel a bit guilty, but it is my shop.
Ji-yeong nods. ‘Thanks,’ she says as she gets up.
‘For what?’
‘I would have had to go if she’d pushed it,’ Ji-yeong says with a shrug. ‘They don’t want me here.’
I’m not sure what to say to that. Ji-yeong opens the door.
‘Wait,’ I tell her.
Ji-yeong pauses. ‘If you’re still figuring things out,’ I say, ‘and you want someone to talk to, you can come to me. Okay?’
Ji-yeong thinks about it for a second, then nods. ‘Okay.’ The door closes behind her.
I watch her walk away in the opposite direction from Saffron, and shake my head. ‘Weird girl,’ I say to myself, then turn the lock on the door.
I climb the stairs to the flat. There’s a text on my phone from Vari; it must have come in while I was with Saffron. He’s been pulled in for a double shift and won’t be done until midnight.
I still haven’t really talked with Vari since the battle. I mean, not properly. He’s not hurt – the marid kept its promise – and the Council doesn’t seem to be blaming him for anything. But he hasn’t been dealing with it all that well. He tells me he’s being given these extra shifts, but I’m starting to get the feeling he’s just trying to stay busy so he doesn’t have time to think. It’s what I used to do.
We haven’t talked about the deal I made either.
The monkey’s paw is sitting at the back of the drawer. I could point to it with my eyes closed, and thinking about it brings a complicated mix of feelings, like a knot I can’t untie. Was I wrong to say yes? Could I have done anything else? What happens when it goes through with its side of the bargain? Can I really just sit there and watch someone walk away with it?
I shake it off and open my laptop. Half a dozen new emails. Two are from adepts about that network. I thought someone else was supposed to be setting it up but they’re acting like they’re waiting for me. A report from November, three pages long. Another question for the Emporium account. A message from a guy who claims he used to sell to Alex – he’s got some new stock and wants to know if I’m interested. I’ll have to check whether he’s telling the truth.
The flat feels lonely. I use it, but I don’t sleep here. It’s not really a home.
There’s plenty of work but I don’t feel like it. I wish Ji-yeong had hung around. She’s strange, but I can talk to her.
I could call Chalice. She sent me a message last week saying we should catch up, but I’m kind of suspicious. Chalice has been getting involved with the Council – it’s sounding like she’s going to be one of the new aides. Problem is, a couple of things she’s said make me think she wants me as her aide. Right now, most Light mages have forgotten about me, but if I start showing up at the War Rooms then pretty soon everyone’s going to remember that I was Alex’s apprentice. And once they remember that, it won’t take long before they start thinking I’m trying to follow in his footsteps. I saw where that got Alex. No thanks.
Still don’t want to sit down at that desk.
I shouldn’t be complaining. It was only seven years ago I walked into this shop for the first time. Back then I had no money, a rented flat, and a curse I couldn’t control. I didn’t know anything about magic and I was about two bad days away from suicide. Now I’m an independent mage with a shop and a home of my own. I’ve got more than I ever dreamed of.
But none of it’s worth anything without people to share it with.
You know what? I open the desk drawer and pull out my box of gate stones. They’re labelled with little tags, and I rummage for the one I need. World’s not going to end if I take a half day off.
I come down in a forest clearing, stepping onto grass. Autumn leaves litter the earth, yellow and brown and gold. It’s early afternoon – the time difference from London is a couple of hours – and the sky is a clear bright blue.
I let the gate close and set off; there’s no track but I know where to go. I’ve changed into jeans and walking shoes, and fallen leaves crunch under my soles. I find myself relaxing as I walk. I’ve always lived in cities, but I like how peaceful the countryside is. When I’m in London, I can always hear traffic and voices, but out here the only sound is the wind. It’s nice.
It only takes a few minutes for the house to appear. There’s a path running through the trees, flagstones laid out like stepping-stones in a grassy river, and the path runs right by the building. It’s a log house with a peaked roof, raised a foot or so off the ground. There are windows on the walls with flowers in window boxes, and a veranda with a couple of chairs. I cross the path and climb the steps. ‘Hey, lazy,’ I tell the fox lying in front of the door. ‘Shouldn’t you be out hunting?’
Hermes flicks his tail at the sound of my voice. He’s sprawled on his side on the wooden decking, and he lifts one paw and twists his head to look at me upside down.
‘You’re just stealing from her, aren’t you?’ I say. ‘Anyone home?’
Hermes blinks. I step over him, pulling in my curse to keep it out of his fur, and knock on the door. A voice calls ‘Come in!’ and I push it open.
The door opens into a combination kitchen/living/dining room. Inside, a young woman is rolling pastry on the table. She’s wearing an apron over a T-shirt and jeans, and there’s flour on her arms. ‘Your fox is getting fat,’ I tell her, closing the door behind me.
‘He keeps eating my pastries,’ Anne says with a smile. ‘Want one?’
You’d never think to look at her that a month ago Anne was one of the most feared and wanted mages in the British Isles. All you’d see would be a tall, slender girl with long black hair and red-brown eyes. Beautiful, maybe; scary, no. You can’t even sense any magic. I know she uses some kind of life shroud, but I can’t see it, though my magesight’s awful so that might just be me.
Technically I’m not breaking the law by visiting like this, but it’s not something I share around. Yes, officially Anne’s been pardoned and taken off the wanted list. But the Council lost a lot of people in that war. As long as they have no idea where she is, it’s easy for them to let it go, but once that changes . . .
I hop up to sit on the table. ‘What’s in them?’
‘Apricot,’ Anne says. She puts aside the rolling pin and starts cutting the dough into strips.
‘I liked the apple ones.’
‘Come on, give apricot a try.’
‘Fine,’ I sigh. They’ll probably be good; I just prefer things I know. ‘Ji-yeong’s hanging around the shop again.’
Anne puts the cutter aside and takes two of the dough strips. ‘Mm-hm?’
‘It doesn’t bother you, does it? I mean, she was Sagash’s apprentice.’
‘Well, so was I.’ Anne starts plaiting the strips together. She makes it look easy, but the one time I tried I made a horrible mess. ‘Though it was a bit more voluntary on her part. But given what I did to her master, I think we can call it even.’
Anne’s a very different person these days, and to be honest I’m still figuring out how to treat her. On the one hand, she’s easier to get on with. I always liked the old Anne, but whenever you talked to her, there was this reserve, this sense she was holding herself back. Nowadays she’s a lot more relaxed. And funnier. I can talk to her about things where the conversation would have stalled before.
On the other hand, she’s also a lot scarier. Like I said, she doesn’t look scary, but somehow I’m very sure that if anyone ever really threatens her she’ll kill them without a second thought. It’s like the safety catches that normal people have just aren’t there. I suppose some people would say the same about Alex, but I never felt with Alex that he’d turn that on me. With Anne, I’m not so sure.
‘Pass the apricots?’ Anne asks.
‘Where—? Oh.’ There’s a small bowl at my end of the table with apricot halves, washed and cored. Anne turns towards me and holds out her hand. I reach out—
It’s the way she’s standing that does it. All of a sudden, it’s a month ago. We’re in the shop, shadows stretching across the floor, and Anne’s in that exact same pose, except she’s wearing a black skater dress and above her palm a mass of black wires is spinning faster and faster. She’s staring at me with those dark eyes and—
—the moment’s gone. I’m quite still, the bowl of apricots half-extended, looking down at Anne’s hand. And suddenly I’m very aware that we’re on our own in a cabin in the woods with no one who knows where I am and no one close enough to hear a scream.
‘You know I wouldn’t,’ Anne says quietly. She’s looking at me and I know she’s read my body language.
I take a breath and hand over the bowl. Our fingers don’t quite touch. ‘I know,’ I tell her. But it’s forced, and when Anne turns back to her dough, there’s a tension in the air.
Most people think Anne did what she did because she was under that marid’s control. I’m one of maybe four people who know better. Oh, the marid had an influence, and it got bigger and bigger until by the final battle it really was possessing her. But the people she killed before that? All the marid did was give her a push. And I’m not completely sure she even needed the push.
I know it was only part of her. But that part’s still there, and the woman standing next to me folding strings of dough around sliced apricots is still basically the same person who went into Jagadev’s fortress and Levistus’s mansion and killed every living thing that got in her way.
I shake it off and start complaining to Anne about the shifts Vari’s working and how I hardly get to see him any more. Anne listens and makes sympathetic noises and we move on to talk about other things, and the tension fades until I’ve almost forgotten it happened.
The pastries are lined up on their tray and Anne’s about to put it in the oven when I stretch and glance around. ‘All right,’ I say. ‘Where’s . . . ?’
‘That way,’ Anne says, pointing. ‘Along the path, then turn off onto the track.’
‘Didn’t even need to ask,’ I say with a grin. I look up; that curved spear of Alex’s is mounted above the fireplace. ‘Are you still keeping that?’
‘You never know.’
I nod and hop off the table. ‘Back in a bit.’
‘Luna?’
I pause halfway to the door. Looking back, I see that Anne hasn’t lifted the tray. She’s staring down at the pastries, and this time when she speaks, she doesn’t raise her eyes. ‘You used to say on your bad days, it felt like you weren’t bearing a curse, you were a curse. That you made everything worse for everyone you’d ever known, just by being alive.’
I nod.
There’s something brittle in Anne’s words. ‘How did you deal with it?’
It’s something I used to think about a lot, and what happened with the monkey’s paw has made me dig it up again. It’s not easy to say, but I speak honestly and hope it’ll help. ‘I suppose the biggest thing . . . you have to get used to the idea that you’re not a good person. Maybe not an awful one either, but . . . You have to accept that what you’ve done, what you’re going to do, there’s a lot of bad in there. You just hope there’ll be enough good to balance it out.’
Anne stares down a moment longer, then nods, the movement jerky and sharp. She picks up the tray and walks to the oven, her usual grace returning step by step.
I follow Anne’s directions and turn off the path about fifty yards upslope. Trees close in around me. I’ve only been walking a minute when I see a flash of white through the foliage, and when I pause I hear the scuff and rustle of movement. Old habits take over and I soften my footsteps, creeping closer as stealthily as I can.
The trees open up into a clearing, and I lean out from behind a trunk.
Alex is there, wielding a staff. His shirt is off, back and shoulders pale in the dappled sunlight, and he’s moving through some kind of martial arts form, the movements smooth and steady. Leaves crunch beneath his feet, and the staff makes a soft whoosh as it sweeps through the air.
