So the following day as Morden’s “guest” was just like old times. The door to my room wasn’t locked but I didn’t go wandering; I didn’t want to ruffle any feathers. Instead I sat in the chair with a book, and anyone watching would have seen me barely move all day except to turn a page.
But just because I wasn’t moving didn’t mean I wasn’t busy. Within two hours of sitting in that chair I knew the entire layout of Morden’s mansion, everything from the basement to the attic. My future selves roamed through the mansion, wandering, exploring, trying things, and everything they learnt, I learnt: everything from how the food was prepared in the kitchen to what would happen if you pulled the levers on the first floor. By noon I’d discovered four routes by which I could escape the mansion (with varying probabilities of success once I got outside), five places in which I could hide with little chance of detection (in the short term, anyway), two ways in which I could set off a small civil war between the mansion’s various inhabitants (for the record, in all the futures I saw, Morden’s side won), one way to destroy the mansion completely along with most of the people inside it (including me, unfortunately), a way to cause the mansion and most of the surrounding countryside to be overrun with intelligent giant badgers (don’t ask), and one half of a process for creating crystals capable of absorbing cold- and ice-based magic (which would be very useful if I had a spare couple of weeks and if I were worried about being attacked by an ice mage, neither of which was true).
That’s the thing about being a diviner. You learn a vast amount of information, of which ninety-five percent is completely useless.
Anyway, it was the people I was interested in. It didn’t take me long to confirm that Cinder and Khazad were here with Rachel, confined in the west wing. Lisa was there too, recovered enough to be able to move around. In a few of the futures, I tried to talk to Lisa; she avoided me or fled. Morden’s message about disloyalty had sunk in. It left a bitter taste in my mouth. It’s one thing to know why most slaves of Dark mages stay that way; it’s another to watch it happen.
But despite everything, I was as focused as I’d ever been. For years I’d been trying to forget my time as Richard’s apprentice, locking it up and burying it deep in my memory. The journey through Elsewhere had shattered that, bringing it all back—but now that I’d faced it, I found to my surprise that the fear had been worse than the reality. It had hurt, yes, but it had been like cleaning out an old wound, and as I looked back I realised that it didn’t scare me the way it once had. I’d gotten stronger since then.
Onyx came into my room in the late afternoon. His cold eyes rested on me as he dropped something onto the table with a clack. “Put it on.”
The item on the table was a bracelet, made of some kind of black metal. I took a second to look at the consequences of saying no, then picked the thing up and locked it around my right wrist. The metal had an ugly, unpleasant feel to it, but it vanished as soon as it snapped shut.
Onyx waited a second, then flicked a finger. The bracelet flared with black energy, and a bolt of terrible agony shot up my arm, locking my muscles, like an electrical shock but worse. I lost my breath in a gasp and went down to one knee with a thud. My heart raced, and I took several deep breaths before looking up shakily at Onyx, steadying myself with one hand on the floor.
“Higher levels cripple or kill,” Onyx said. “Want to see?”
I took a breath. “No, thanks,” I said, my voice hoarse.
“We leave in two hours,” Onyx said. He turned and left.
I waited for his footsteps to fade away, then dropped the act, returned to the chair, and started work on the bracelet. It was the same design Richard had used, which made things simple. Once I was finished, I settled down to wait.
The sun was dipping towards the horizon when Onyx returned. He jerked his head in a command to follow, and I obeyed.
The morning room was wide, with one whole wall made entirely out of French windows that looked out onto the flowers of the garden. The light of the setting sun streamed in, mixing with the reflection off the leaves to light the wooden floor in yellow and gold. A table stood in the middle of the room, covered with maps. Morden was behind it, and standing in front, in a sullen group, were Cinder, Rachel, and Khazad. Cinder and Khazad glowered at me; Deleo/Rachel didn’t. Lisa and Morden’s other slave girl (whose name I’d learnt was Selene) stood at opposite ends of the room, their eyes cast down submissively. Onyx walked to Morden’s side and gestured for me to stand with the others. I took up a position next to the table, a carefully judged distance away from Rachel.
“Tonight at sunset, the five of you will enter the relic and recover the fateweaver,” Morden said without preamble once we were around the table. Now that the pecking order had been established, he didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “Onyx will be in command; you will obey him absolutely. Any disagreements are to be put aside as long as you work for me.” He looked between us. “Do you have any objections? Cinder? Deleo, Verus? Khazad?”
Onyx’s eyes glinted as he watched us. I shook my head slightly and saw the others do the same. Rachel was holding quite still and I noticed that she was wearing a black metal bracelet similar to mine, as were Cinder and Khazad. It was the first time I’d seen the two of them since we were captured, and both looked battered and sullen. Cinder seemed subdued and didn’t react, but as Khazad caught me looking at them he shot me a hate-filled glance. I turned back to Morden, thinking as I did that it couldn’t happen to a nicer pair of guys.
“We expect moderate resistance at the museum,” Morden was saying. “Avoid unnecessary casualties, but entering is your priority. Once you’ve reached the statue, Verus”—he nodded to me—“will open it. Show them the key, please.”
Everyone’s eyes were on me as I slowly reached into my pocket and produced the crystal cube. It sat quietly in the palm of my hand, the sparks glinting in its depths. Cinder’s eyes were hungry, as were Khazad’s. Rachel’s were calculating. “The rest of you will set up a perimeter until the door is open,” Morden continued. “Should Verus fail, Onyx will employ a contingency plan.”
I didn’t like the sound of that at all.
“Once you are inside,” Morden said, “you will be in unknown territory. The relic interior has been sealed for at least two thousand years. However, given that the guardian elemental still functions, I doubt the traps will have stopped working.”
“Traps?” Khazad said sharply.
“Of course.” Morden raised an eyebrow. “I assumed you knew.”
Cinder and Khazad looked at him, and then, as one, they turned to stare at Rachel. Rachel looked between them. “What?” she demanded.
“You didn’t say anything about traps,” Khazad said.
“I’m sure she had her reasons,” Morden said smoothly. “The fateweaver is located at the relic’s centre. Once Onyx has taken possession of it, you are free to return or to stay and loot the place as you wish.” Morden smiled. “I’ll quite understand if you need some time alone. As long as you accomplish your objective, the decision of what to do afterwards is entirely up to you.” Morden looked around. “Are there any questions?”
Khazad had been staring at Rachel; now he dragged his eyes away to look at Morden. “When do we get paid?”
“Once Onyx and the fateweaver are in this room.” Morden looked around. “Anything else?”
“One thing,” I said, and felt everyone’s eyes turn to me. “There were quite a few guards at the museum.”
Cinder snorted with laughter, and Khazad looked at me through narrowed eyes. “What’s the matter, Verus?” Khazad’s voice was ugly. “Afraid of a fight?”
I didn’t look at him. “I’ll have trouble opening the relic if I’m dead,” I said mildly to Morden.
“Onyx will explain your method of approach once you arrive.”
It wasn’t what I’d wanted to hear, but I nodded. Morden looked around. “Anything else?”
No one spoke.
“Excellent.
” Morden smiled. “Don’t look so gloomy, you four. By tomorrow, you’ll be free, rich, and in my favour. All you have to do is bring me the fateweaver.”
My shoes swished through the wet grass as we walked out into the garden. The setting sun lit up the landscape around, showing hills and distant forests. Clouds hung overhead, glowing gold in the sunset. Morden’s mansion had a powerful shroud effect, but I was pretty sure we were somewhere in Wales.
As we walked I moved to block Rachel slightly, so that the two of us fell behind. She gave me a cool look, but allowed it. “Nice jewellery,” I said under my breath once we were far enough behind Cinder and Khazad. “Onyx give you a demonstration?”
“I’m not afraid of Onyx,” Rachel said, turning away. She was wearing a blue coat that looked like it might have belonged to Lisa. “What do you want?”
Up ahead, Onyx was giving sharp orders to Khazad and Cinder, who listened sullenly. “Did you notice something strange about that briefing?”
“Like?”
“Morden wants to use the fateweaver to become the representative of the Dark mages on the Council,” I said, keeping my voice low. “For that to work, he can’t leave any proof that he was behind the raid.”
“So?”
“Morden said we could go free or keep working for him. Either way, we might talk. The guards at the museum might recognise us. We’d be a link that could be traced.” I looked sideways at Rachel. “That would be a problem for him, don’t you think?”
Rachel started to answer, then stopped. “Yes,” she said at last, her voice colourless. “It would.”
I fell silent, letting Rachel work the rest of it out for herself. I knew it wouldn’t take her long, and I wasn’t surprised when she spoke a moment later. “Are you still any good with locks?”
“Better.”
“How long would these bracelets take you?”
“Maybe five minutes each.”
Up ahead, Onyx turned and noticed us talking. He jerked his head. “Move.”
We came forward and in a moment were too close to say anything more. Onyx gestured and the air in front of us rippled. A black oval eight feet tall appeared, hovering just off the ground, soaking up the light from the sunset, then it cleared and through it I could see grass and trees.
“Good luck, all of you,” Morden called, and we turned to look. He had stayed behind on the veranda, and he was smiling at us, hands clasped behind his back. “I hope you make it back safely.”
I smiled back at Morden, my face as friendly as his. No, you don’t.
Onyx took us by gateway to three more locations: a wood, a deserted quarry, and a dense forest. Gateways can be traced if you’re good enough and know what to look for; by gating to multiple locations you make it harder for anyone to backtrack to your point of origin. At each location we walked for five minutes before gating again. Cinder took the lead with Khazad on his heels, the two men forming a contrast, one heavy and lumbering, the other birdlike and quick. Rachel followed a little way behind, and I followed her a little farther still. Bringing up the rear came Onyx, his cold eyes on all of us. No one spoke.
Even though I was on the receiving end, I had to admit that Morden’s plan had a kind of twisted brilliance to it. The four of us had been his main competition for the fateweaver; he’d turned it around so that we were doing his work for him. He was sitting comfortably in his mansion, while we were going out to risk our necks. I’d almost admire the guy if he weren’t so freaking evil.
However, the more I thought about it, the more I became sure that Morden’s plan included the four of us meeting with unfortunate accidents along the way. Not only would our dead bodies tell no tales, they’d make perfect scapegoats to present to the angry Council. When Morden had offered me a job as his intelligence officer and I’d accepted, I hadn’t been serious; I’d thought I’d been fooling him. I had the uneasy feeling now that he’d been the one fooling me.
Once we’d walked a short distance through the forest, Onyx stopped. “Wait.” He opened a gateway and stepped through, letting it close behind him.
That left me with Rachel and Cinder, neither of whom I particularly wanted to be alone with. I heard Cinder growl something and took the opportunity to slip away, putting a few clumps of trees between me and them. I couldn’t afford to get too far; if I wasn’t nearby when Onyx returned, he’d probably trigger my bracelet as a reminder. On the other hand, if I was quick—
I had only an instant’s warning. I darted left towards cover, but something grabbed my chest and slammed me up against a tree before I could reach it. A claw of flickering black energy pinned me to the trunk, holding me up on tiptoe, unable to move.
Khazad stepped up in front of me, and there was an evil light shining in his eyes. “Did you think I forgot?” he said softly. The claw tightened slightly, constricting my chest, and I grunted. “You know what I did to the last man who humiliated me like you did?”
“You kill me,” I managed to say, my voice stifled, “and Onyx kills you.”
Khazad stared at me for a long moment, then the black claw loosened and I drew in a ragged breath. “Of course, you’ve got the key,” Khazad said absently.
I opened my mouth to speak, and suddenly the claw tightened again, and I made a strangled sound as I lost the air in my lungs. Khazad leant in close, his dark eyes staring into mine. “But then, it doesn’t have to be you that uses it, does it?” Khazad whispered. “I could take it from your body. You tried to run and I was forced to kill you. I’m sure Onyx will understand.”
I was choking. My chest was crushed so that I couldn’t breathe in, and my ribs were on the verge of breaking. “Can’t—open.”
“What’s that, Verus?” Khazad said with a smile. “I’m having trouble hearing.”
“Won’t work—for you.”
For a long moment Khazad stared at me, head tilted as if considering. Then suddenly he smiled. “I think you’re lying.” Spots were starting to swim in front of my eyes, and I could barely see Khazad as he leant in to breathe into my ear. “It’s a pity I can’t take my time.”
A cold voice spoke from one side. “Drop him.”
Khazad twisted to look back with a snarl. The voice spoke again. “Now.”
For a long moment Khazad hesitated, then drew abruptly back, the claw flickering into nothingness. I sank back against the tree, using it to stop myself from falling over, and looked up as I caught my breath.
Rachel was just a little distance away, and she was wearing her mask again. If I hadn’t known it was her, I wouldn’t have recognised her as the same woman; she stood straighter, colder, more menacing. Blue-green light hovered at her palm, pointed towards Khazad. Khazad snarled again. “He’s mine!”
“Try it if you like,” Rachel said calmly. “We’ve got time.”
For a moment the two of them stood there, Rachel with her arm outstretched, Khazad hunched and ready to spring. Then Khazad took a step back. He shot a vicious look at me and stalked away.
The light at Rachel’s palm winked out, and she walked to me. “Once we’re inside, you get rid of these,” she said, tapping her bracelet. Her voice was ordinary, as if she’d already forgotten about Khazad. “In exchange we keep you alive.”
I nodded slowly. “Agreed.”
Rachel was studying me, her head tilted. “You’ve seen her again,” she said in sudden interest.
“Um…”
“She comes more often when you’re here.” Rachel laughed suddenly. “You didn’t know that, did you?”
I met Rachel’s eyes. There was a curious distant look in them, and all of a sudden I was scared, really scared. I’d called Rachel crazy on top of Canary Wharf, and then forgotten about it once I’d recognised her in the mansion, but I’d been right. Rachel really was crazy. Not all the way, but far enough. Lots of people think mad means funny, but real madness isn’t funny—it’s terrifying. Looking into the spinning futures, I saw Rachel doing a hundred different things, and I had absolutely no wa
y of knowing which she’d choose. “Rachel?” I said carefully. “Can you hear me?”
“That’s not my name anymore,” Rachel said absently, looking over my shoulder.
Rachel was standing just a few feet in front of me, eyes fixed attentively on something a little way past. If she struck from this distance, her beam would go right through me and the tree behind. I stood very still and didn’t make any sudden movements. “Deleo.”
Rachel suddenly turned back to me, her eyes alight. “Yes!” She smiled happily. “I had to do that. You see that, right?”
“Um, I think so.”
“I mean, it’s not like I could just leave!” Rachel laughed, then frowned. “But she won’t go away.” Her frown cleared. “She’s been quiet, though. It must be because of you.” She smiled. “She always liked you. She wouldn’t say it, but I knew. Why don’t you carry on?”
I had absolutely no idea what Rachel was talking about. I tried to think of what to say. “Ra—Deleo. Onyx is going to be back.”
“Onyx?” Rachel’s brow furrowed for a moment, then cleared again. “Oh, he doesn’t matter.” She smiled to herself again, then her eyes seemed to snap back into focus. “Make sure you’re ready to get rid of these.” She raised her right wrist with the bracelet. “We have to see her again, don’t we?”
An instant later Onyx emerged from the trees, and I slumped in relief. The fact that I was relieved at having Onyx show up was scary in itself. He beckoned to me and Rachel, and we followed, Rachel smiling as if at some private joke.
Alex Verus Novels, Books 1-4 (9780698175952) Page 21