The construct attacked again and I dodged, my movements neat and precise. A table came between me and the construct and was crushed to splinters. The sword made a whistling noise as it passed my head; that blade was heavier than any normal sword and one hit would explode my skull like a water balloon. The future I needed drew closer and I set my foot back, getting into position. Duck the sword, step aside from the stun . . . and for an instant, the golem’s movements caused the rents in its armour to line up, exposing its core.
I fired the wand, and the scent of ozone filled the air. The golem didn’t react, reversing the sword for another strike. I ducked the backswing and fired again, the beam spearing the construct, burning into its heart.
The energy node snapped. Strands of magic lashed as the spell went wild, restraints breaking. The golem shuddered and came to a halt, the light going out of its eyes. Something huge and formless seemed to flow out of the construct’s legs and down into the earth: I had a fleeting sense of some ancient presence, cold and massive, then it was gone. The golem was a lifeless statue, arms extended and still.
Weakness rippled through me, the wand suddenly feeling like it weighed twenty pounds. There’s a reason I don’t like these kinds of combat focuses: those three shots had used up too much of my own energy. I clipped it to my belt and strode out of the canteen.
The entrance hall was empty. Bodies of humans and constructs littered the floor, and a haze of dust hung in the air, but there were no traces of the survivors or the other golem. Skirmish battles are fast: my fight with the golem had taken only a minute or two, but that had been more than enough time for the battle to move on. I could hear running footsteps in the distance, but there was no sign of Barrayar or Anne.
At the end of the hall was a pair of closed double doors that looked like they led somewhere important. I started walking, and as I did reached out through the dreamstone. November.
Oh! Oh good, you’re still—I mean, I’m glad you’re well.
What’s the status at the War Rooms?
They’re restricting official communications to synchronous focuses, November answered, but I’ve managed to gather some data. Apparently they’re quite agitated. Orders are still to stay on high alert in preparation for an anticipated attack on the War Rooms.
Levistus getting any reinforcements?
No. Actually, one call I intercepted gave the impression that he’s been calling personally. No one seems very keen to help.
I was nearly at the double doors: I looked to see what would happen if I opened them and walked through. Send the money and notices we discussed to that adept team now.
. . . Done. I have receipt of transfer.
Good.
The double doors were thick wood, heavy and unlocked. I pushed them open and stepped to one side.
A violet disc of force blurred past, cutting through the space I’d been occupying a second ago. “Hi, guys,” I called from around the wall.
The room beyond the doors was a gate room, designed for entry and exit. The floor was dull metal with a polished sheen. Columns of rough, unworked stone ran from floor to ceiling, illuminated with an eerie green light, and flanking the columns were plain metal walls spaced to allow for gating. At the back, a raised observation gallery ran from wall to wall; the gallery was fronted with one-way glass that made it impossible to see in. At the centre of the room, three mobile barricades had been set up, heavy steel shields reinforced with magic and standing five feet tall.
There were four people in the room: Caldera, and the three adept mercenaries I’d run into at Heron Tower. Caldera and Crash were behind the left and right barricades, while Stickleback and Jumper were behind the back one. I could sense defensive spells designed to deflect ranged attacks coming in from outside. On top of that, the wards that prevented gate and teleportation magic over the mansion were limited within this specific area, meaning that Jumper would be able to use his teleportation abilities just fine.
I stayed behind the wall and waited to see if the four people inside would make a move. They didn’t. I knew that Stickleback would attack the instant I poked my head out into the doorway, but until then, it seemed they were willing to wait.
“Not coming out?” I called.
“Why don’t you and your pet monster come in?” Caldera called back.
“Anne’s not here,” I told her. “Far as I can tell, she’s chasing Barrayar.”
“That’s nice.”
I smiled to myself. “Let me guess. Planning to camp out till reinforcements arrive?”
“You tell me.”
It wasn’t a bad plan. The wards made ranged attacks almost impossible. Anyone wanting to force entry would have to advance through the choke point under fire from Stickleback, then fight Crash and Caldera at close range. Anne would still kill them all, but she’d have to work for it.
“Crash,” I called. “As I understand it, you’re the spokesman for your group.”
There was a pause. “What if I am?” Crash said at last. It was the first time I’d heard him speak. For a tough guy, he had quite an educated voice.
I nodded. “I am hereby notifying you that your employment with Councillor Levistus has been terminated, effective immediately, as per section seven of your contract. Authorisation codes have been sent to your contact details as specified. Your outstanding fees have been paid to the account specified in appendix one, including a cancellation fee as per section twelve.”
There was a moment’s silence. “What?”
“Go ahead and check,” I said.
Another pause, then through the futures, I saw Crash pull out a phone. He tapped at the touchscreen, keeping a wary eye on the door.
“What are you doing?” Caldera demanded.
“Any problems?” I asked.
“Our contract’s not with you,” Crash said.
“Your contract’s with the Council, as represented by Levistus. I’m still a member of the Council and authorised to make negotiations in their stead. In any case, the contract doesn’t specify who has to deliver notice of termination. Only that they need the proper authorisation codes, which I’ve supplied.”
“You don’t seriously expect anyone to buy this,” Crash said.
“Put it this way,” I said. “You have two options. Option one is you and your team take the money and leave. The Council won’t be happy, but you can point to the fact that you fulfilled the letter of your contract, even if it wasn’t in the way they wanted. Option two is you and your team stay and fight against me and Anne, who have, in case you haven’t noticed, killed pretty much everyone else in the building. You will lose at least one member of your team and probably more. I don’t personally think you’re being paid enough to make that worth it, but it’s up to you. So. Which is it going to be?”
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.
The dispel focus discharged into Caldera’s side. A pulse of countermagic surged through her body and instantly she jumped back, weaving a new set of spells to replace her defences.
I pushed with the fateweaver, the future snapping into place. The spells I’d disrupted went wild, maintaining their pattern but discharging their energies in the wrong way. Surges of strength went through Caldera’s muscles, uneven and erratic; her stoneskin magic poured all its energy into hardening parts of her body while leaving others unprotected.
Caldera staggered, almost falling. Her new spells fizzled out; the malfunctioning spells were blocking them. To fix the whole mess she’d have to rebuild it from scratch. I wasn’t going to give her that long.
I attacked again and this time Caldera struck hard, trying to drive me away. I ducked the punch and sliced her arm, the blade cutting across an unprotected piece of flesh. Caldera flinched and pulled away. She gave ground, trying to gain herself the chance to rebuild her defences, and I pressed her harder.
My knife stabbed, opening up wounds in Caldera’s shoulder and thigh. Her movements had lost their smoothness: they were jerky, almost fearful. It was probably the first time Caldera had ever been cut with a blade; all of a sudden she was discovering that when you aren’t invulnerable, knives are scary. I drove her back against one of the rough stone walls, getting in close. Caldera swung a hook; I ducked and the punch smashed chips out of the rock face, and as it did my knife sank into her gut.
Caldera lost her breath in a gasp. I pulled back slightly, watching Caldera put a hand to her lower stomach. It came away red, and she looked up at me in shock.
“Last warning,” I said quietly. “Walk away.”
Emotions flashed across Caldera’s face; shame, fear, rage, others too fleeting to read. The futures jumped wildly. A dozen Calderas stood and fought, walked away, went berserk and attacked, broke down and screamed. Flicker-flicker-flicker . . .
The futures settled. Caldera stared at me in pure hatred. “Screw you.”
My face hardened and I moved in.
Though Caldera still had her magic, and though her wounds weren’t crippling, what followed was more like an execution than a battle. The stone wall heaved, trying to pull me in, and Caldera swung wildly, her punches still carrying enough force to kill. I evaded, stabbed, stabbed again. Red bloomed on Caldera’s shirt and jacket. Caldera tried to tangle my feet and I put my blade through her thigh. The only sou
nd was the panting of breath, and the scuff and thump of footsteps on the tile. Light flashed on my knife, blood dripping to the floor.
Caldera broke away, bleeding from a dozen wounds. I watched her steadily as she pulled herself upright, trying to rally. I’d taken a couple of bruises, no more. Our eyes met and I saw a kind of dawning realisation, then her expression went blank.
I don’t know why Caldera went in for that last attack. I think at some level she had to know what was going to happen, the battle experience that had served her for so many years turning on her at the end. Maybe she just didn’t know how to do things any other way. Or maybe she was like so many battle-mages, and when it came right down to it, she could never really believe that someone as tough as her could ever lose to someone like me.
I met Caldera’s rush with my own. Her strike missed. Mine didn’t.
Caldera staggered, turning to me with an odd sort of surprise. Then, slowly, she crumpled to the floor.
I looked down at Caldera. She was still breathing. My knife was red with her blood, and I looked from her to the blade and back to her again. Seconds stretched out as I hesitated.
Then, from the direction of the entrance hall, I heard the sound of clapping.
I turned to see Anne, strolling towards me unhurriedly. “Nice,” she said with a smile. “Very nice.”
“What were you doing?” I snapped. I forced my muscles to stay still to stop my hands from shaking. “Sightseeing?”
“Oh, I’ve been watching for a while,” Anne said. “Was tempted to step in, but I figured it wasn’t fair if I got to have all the fun.” She nodded down at Caldera. “Do you mind?”
I paused, then stepped aside.
“Thanks.” Anne crossed the room and knelt at Caldera’s side, careless of the spreading blood. “Huh, you really did a number on her. Did you drag it out on purpose?”
“No.”
“I would have.” Green light glowed around Anne’s hand, her life magic weaving through Caldera’s body.
“What are you doing?”
Anne rose to her feet, brushing off her hands. “Just first aid.”
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