Alex Verus Novels, Books 1-4 (9780698175952)

by Jacka, Benedict

  Cinder started walking towards it, and I followed. Sonder looked around at the darkness one last time, muttered something under his breath, and came after.

  Crossing a mountain in the dark isn’t fun. I had the easiest time with my divination magic and Cinder toughed it out on brute strength. Sonder found it hardest and before long was lagging behind. But it wasn’t a long trip, and after only a little while longer Cinder came over a rise and stopped. I reached his side and we looked down the northeast face of the Black Craeg.

  Belthas’s manor was most of the way up the mountain, about three hundred feet downslope from our perch. Its windows were lit, turning it into a splash of bright light against the blackness around. I could see two storeys from our angle but as I scanned with my magic I realised there was a lower level, built into the slope. Luna had said her cell was in the basement; she must be below.

  Cinder looked at me. “So?”

  “Let me scout it,” I said.

  I’d expected an argument but Cinder only nodded. I crouched down and focused, searching through the futures of us going down into the radius of those lights. Sonder caught up a few minutes later, breathing hard. He looked at me, then down at the manor, and settled down to wait.

  Eventually, I stirred. “There are two guards outside. One at the front, one at the back. At least eight or ten more in the building. There’s a gate ward over the manor; gate magic is going to be difficult from about fifty feet away and impossible inside the walls. There’s an alarm system and attack wards too. Belthas is on the top floor in a shielded room.”

  Cinder looked at me silently. Sonder looked taken aback. “That’s … a lot.”

  “Yeah,” I said. I checked my watch.

  “How long have we got?” Sonder said.

  “Until Belthas finishes the ritual and kills Arachne …” I calculated. “One hour, thirty-five minutes.”

  “When do we go?” Cinder asked.

  “We’ll want to hit it in about an hour,” I said. Looking around, I found a rock to sit on. “Till then, we wait.”

  Sonder looked at me in surprise. “Why?”

  Cinder glanced at me, then leant against a boulder. I knew he understood but didn’t want to explain. “Right now Belthas is getting ready to start his ritual,” I said. “If we attack he’ll be on top of us in two minutes flat. But if we wait until he’s started he won’t be able to come after us without abandoning the ritual, which will screw it up. The closer he is to the end of the ritual, the less he can afford to be disturbed. He’ll leave the battle to his guards and wards and hope he can finish before we can break through.”

  “But the later we leave it,” Sonder pointed out, “the more likely he will finish before we break through.”

  I nodded and Sonder fell silent as he realised what I was saying. Too early and we’d have to fight Belthas and his guards at once. Too late and Arachne would be dead.

  “What’s the plan for getting past the guards?” Sonder asked eventually.

  I sighed. “We kill however many it takes before the rest run. Somewhere between most of them and all of them.”

  Sonder stared at me. “But …”

  I didn’t answer. “They’re Council security,” Sonder said. “Okay, I guess some of them are with Belthas, but … they’re loyal to the Council. They’re just doing their jobs.”

  “Do you know any spells that’ll knock out ten to fifteen armed men?” I said. “Or any way of getting them to surrender and let us through?”

  “No, but—”

  “Neither do I,” I said. “And neither does Cinder. If I was an enchanter or a mind mage I could cloud their senses. If I could use life or death magic I could disrupt their bodies and knock them out. But I’m not and I can’t. The only thing I’ve got that can drop them fast enough to be safe is this gun. If we screw around taking prisoners we’re going to get shot.” I paused. “Actually, there’s a pretty good chance we’re going to get shot anyway.”

  “There’s got to be something else,” Sonder argued. “I don’t want anyone to get killed.”

  Cinder made a disgusted noise. I didn’t look at him. “Belthas is down there,” I told Sonder. “Along with at least a dozen armed guards in a warded building, and that’s not counting Meredith and Martin and whatever else he’s got up his sleeve.”

  “I know,” Sonder said. “That doesn’t mean we should try to kill them!”

  “The point is,” I said quietly, “that the odds are against us. Really against us. Even if we don’t make any mistakes, there’s a good chance that anyone who goes into that manor is going to end up dead. The more restrictions we go under, the bigger that chance gets. When you’re playing odds this long, the only way to win is to use every edge you’ve got.”

  I could feel Cinder’s eyes on me. Sonder looked desperately unhappy. I couldn’t really blame him; I knew it felt to him like an impossible situation. But the truth is, it’s not about what’s possible. It’s what you’re willing to live with.

  But I might as well cut him a break. “Anyway, it’s not up to you,” I said. “We’re going down there, and when we do there’s going to be a fight no matter what.” I sat down on one of the rocks. “Take a look around but make sure you’re not seen.”

  Sonder and Cinder moved away and I was left alone in the darkness, which suited me just fine. I scanned through the futures in which I went down there, skipping over the parts where the strands branched into a blur of combat. I didn’t try to see how it would go—fights are too chaotic to see more than a few seconds ahead. Instead I searched for openings, doors, alarms, building a mental map of the manor below.

  While my mind looked through the futures, my hands moved over the weapon at my side. Most of Belthas’s men had been carrying submachine guns of a type I vaguely recognised as MP5s. Garrick had been carrying a model I hadn’t seen before, square and blocky with only the tip of the muzzle protruding from the gun, and it was this one I’d taken. It was less than a foot and a half long, made of some black polymer which was surprisingly light, with a retractable stock and laser sight. The bottom of the magazine stuck out from the handle. It held thirty rounds and I had three more full magazines stowed away. One of the men had been carrying a 1911 pistol like mine, with the addition of a silencer, and I’d taken that too. I’d also brought a handful of more dangerous things in my backpack, riding awkwardly under my cloak.

  I’ve never been all that comfortable with guns. Partly it’s for practical reasons—they’re illegal, for a start, and they don’t usually get good reactions from mages—but it’s also that I just don’t like the things. Carrying a gun makes me uneasy in a way that carrying a knife doesn’t, and if I’m going out I’ll almost never take one. But I’ve used them before, and even if I’m not as good a shot as I am with throwing, I can hit a target pretty well. When you can’t use offensive magic, guns are a big equaliser, and sometimes you can’t afford to be fussy.

  I sensed Cinder returning well in advance. Sonder was still back up the slope, struggling with his conscience. I waited for Cinder to get close before glancing up. He was looking down at me, arms folded. “Ice wards.”

  I nodded.

  “Plan?”

  “I sneak inside,” I said. “I’ll try for Deleo and Luna, get as far as I can. When the shooting starts, I’ll open up a way in and you do what you do best. We go for the girls first, Belthas second.”

  Cinder nodded. We both knew he’d follow my orders only as long as they suited him. I took a breath. “One more thing. If I don’t make it out, make sure Sonder and Luna get away safe. I’ll do the same for Deleo if anything happens to you.”

  Cinder looked at me. Standing in the darkness, it was hard to make out his expression. An icy wind was blowing, but Cinder let it sweep over him as though he didn’t notice. Probably he didn’t.

  “Why?” Cinder said.

  “Why what?”

  “Help them.”

  “Who?”

  Cinder just looked at me, as if
refusing to answer such a stupid question. “Because I want to,” I said.

  Cinder studied me for a moment, then nodded in the direction Sonder had gone. “You’re not one of them.”

  I was silent. “Talk, don’t fight,” Cinder said. “Don’t get your hands dirty. How they think. You don’t.”

  “I’m not exactly the fighting type.”

  “Bullshit,” Cinder said. “You act it. Fool some people. Fooled me once. You’re a predator. You just hide it.”

  I raised an eyebrow at Cinder. “Pretty weak for a predator.”

  “Yeah?” Cinder said. “Last ten years. How many people tried to kill you? Don’t mean a skirmish. A proper try.”

  I shrugged. “Haven’t kept count.”

  Cinder nodded. “How many still alive?”

  The question brought me up short. A few people had tried to kill me over the years. Actually, more than a few. Cinder and Rachel didn’t really count—they’d always been more interested in getting their piece—but Khazad did. So did Tobruk. Levistus had ordered my death through Griff and Thirteen, and Morden had done the same through Onyx. Then Garrick had tried to shoot me a few days ago, and there had been that bomb-maker at the Deptford factory. There were more—a lot more. As for how many were still alive, the answer was …

  …not that many.

  Most of them were dead.

  In fact, most of them were dead quite specifically because of me.

  I don’t often look back over my life. Between paying attention to the present and looking forwards into the future, I don’t have much time left to look over my past choices. Now I did and realised what picture they made, and it wasn’t all that reassuring.

  And I was about to add a whole bunch of new names to the list. If everything went to plan, a lot of people down there were going to die. And as I thought it over, I realised I was going to go through with it. At the end of the day, given a choice between Belthas and his men on one side, and Luna and Arachne on the other, I was going to pick Luna and Arachne, and if it meant Belthas and his men dead then that was what I’d do. I knew exactly how ugly and vicious the battle was going to be and I was going to do it anyway.

  I didn’t know what that said about me. Maybe later, I’d think about it. Right now all I cared about was getting the job done. “What do you want, Cinder?” I said. “You want me to back out?”

  Cinder shook his head.

  “Then what?”

  “Del hates you,” Cinder said. “Thinks you’re weak. I reckon she’s wrong. You’re ruthless as her. Just hide it better.”

  “Thanks. I think.”

  “I’ll save your pets if you go down,” Cinder said. “But I don’t reckon you will. I think end of tonight, you’ll be around. And Belthas won’t.”

  I looked back at Cinder, trying to figure out if that should make me feel better.

  A sound from behind made me look up in time to see Sonder returning. He was shivering. He really should have taken me up when I offered to lend him a coat. “Belthas started his ritual.”

  I nodded. “Time to go.”

  Sonder hesitated. “I—”

  I sighed. “For us, not for you. You’re not going, Sonder. This isn’t your kind of fight.” I reached into my backpack and pulled out a radio, a donation from one of Garrick’s men. I tossed it to Sonder and he caught it awkwardly. “I want you to stay up here and pull lookout. Tell me if anything changes. I’ll call you when I’m in position.”

  Sonder looked down, then up at me. “Don’t beat yourself up over it,” I said. “There’s a time to play white knight and this isn’t it. If everything goes to hell, get out the way we came and follow the valley down. You’ll get to a village in about five miles.”

  Sonder opened his mouth and I saw him thinking about what to say. “Good luck,” he said unhappily.

  I grinned at him. “Luck’s for Luna. See you in an hour or two.”

  The grin vanished about two seconds after I was out of sight. I put on my mist cloak, pulling down the hood so that it concealed my face. Belthas would know who I was, but there was no point giving the cameras a free show. It was time to get to work.

  Up close, Belthas’s manor was solid and imposing. It had been designed to look like a traditional English country house, but there was a blocky quality to it that made me think of a castle or bunker. The lower-level windows looked accessible but I knew they were reinforced and sealed. The only ways in were the front and rear doors.

  I’d put the time I’d spent waiting in the darkness above to good use and I had a pretty good idea of the building’s weak points. Any kind of security system that can keep out people you don’t want can also keep out people you do, and rather than solve the difficult problem of attuning his wards, Belthas had elected to leave two openings over the doors. After some consideration, I’d picked the front one. It was watched over by one guard and a pair of security cameras.

  The cameras were easy. There was a slight gap in the coverage and I waited for them to pan away before slipping through to come up against the manor’s west wall. I could feel the presence of the defensive spells through the stone: a gate ward and some kind of nasty ice-based attack that would trigger if anyone attempted to force entry. Luckily, I wasn’t intending to.

  The guard outside the front door was obviously bored and cold. Peering around the corner, I could see him shivering, his hands shoved into his armpits and his MP5 hanging from its strap. There were a few steps leading up to the door and he was standing on top of them, visible in the reflected light of the windows. I walked silently along the edge of the building towards him, pausing from time to time when I got too close to his peripheral vision. The front of the building was bare with no cover, but in my mist cloak I was just one more shadow in the night.

  By the time I was up against the steps I was close enough to see the stubble on the guard’s face and smell the cigarette smoke on his clothes. Looking into the future, I saw that if I got the guard out of the way and went in now, I’d run into two more in the front hall. All I could do was wait. I stood not ten feet from the guard, listened to his teeth chattering, and checked my watch. Thirty-five minutes until Belthas completed his ritual.

  Five minutes passed. I was getting cold but didn’t let myself move, tensing and relaxing muscles to stop myself from stiffening up. Ten minutes. Looking into the future, I saw that the guards inside were gone. I pulled a pebble from my pocket, waited for the guard to glance away, and threw it into the darkness.

  One of the funny things about divination magic is you can know something will work without having the first clue why. The pebble clinked off the rock and the guard snapped his head around as I’d known he would. He stood motionless for ten seconds, then crept down the stairs and slunk left along the wall, trying to blend into the shadows.

  Why did he go that way, along the line of the wall, rather than towards the noise? I don’t know. I just knew that had been what I needed to do to make him turn his back. I moved quickly up the stairs, opened the door, and slipped inside.

  The air inside Belthas’s manor was warm, the entrance hall panelled in wood with pictures on the walls. It looked expensive but rarely used. The murmur of voices echoed through the hallway—the doorway to my left led to a front room with four of Belthas’s men inside but I knew that for the next few seconds none would be looking at the door. I walked quickly past and up the stairs.

  There were cameras inside too, and this time I didn’t try to avoid them. In stillness and darkness my mist cloak makes me all but invisible, but moving in the light is another story. Speed was my best chance now. The security station was on the first floor, and as I came up to the top of the stairs I drew my silenced pistol. The door to the security room was open, light glimmering from inside, and I went in with the gun up.

  The room was filled with monitors, arranged in an arc around the room’s single desk. I could see the approaches to the house, the rooms inside. Pale electronic light bathed the man sitting in the chai
r. He had a red baseball cap pulled down over his eyes and his arms were clasped over his stomach as he slept. He wasn’t holding a weapon.

  I aimed the pistol at his head, hesitated, then lowered it again and looked at the camera feeds. I counted at least ten guards plus the one in front of me and the two outside. There were views of a set of four reinforced metal doors in the basement level that looked a lot like cells. No inside view but if Luna and Rachel were here, that was where they’d be. There was a guard down on the basement level too … along with a slimmer figure whom I recognised by his hair as Martin. I narrowed my eyes. When I met Martin, he and I were going to have words.

  There was a feed showing guards on the stairs leading up but the cameras on the second floor itself were blank. I guessed Belthas didn’t want anyone else watching his ritual. I looked under the desk but saw nothing except a bunch of cabling from the monitors feeding into the right wall, and I walked quietly out, keeping my gun ready. The man in the red baseball cap didn’t wake up.

  The next door to the right opened into a small room full of humming computers. Perfect. I shut the door behind me, slipped off my backpack, and pulled out a block of an off-white, funny-smelling material as well as a pair of detonators.

  I really don’t know anything about explosives, but being able to see exactly what will and won’t cause something to go boom makes demolition work a lot less stressful. I stuck the detonators into the block, tucked it behind the computer banks, backed off to the door, and looked into the future to see what would happen if I pressed the button on the detonator. Ouch. Okay, it was working. Mental note: one pound of plastic explosive makes a really big bang.

  The next job was to find a way for Cinder to get in. The front door was still too crowded but as I moved to the rear of the building I saw that the back door was deserted except for the solitary guard outside. I stacked my other two blocks of plastic explosive against the door frame, set the detonators, then covered the whole thing with a coat someone had left on a stand. It would take out the door, the guard, the wall, and pretty much anything else.