Fated: An Alex Verus Novel

by Benedict Jacka

  Five people were sitting in the room, but it was the man at the centre who caught my attention. He was in his fifties, with thinning white hair and eyes that faded into the shadows. I’d seen his picture before, but never in person, and it took me a moment to put a name to the face. This was Vaal Levistus, one of the members of the Council. He glanced up as we entered. ‘Mr Verus. I’m glad you could come.’ He gestured to the others. ‘Leave us.’

  They obeyed in silence, giving me sidelong looks as they filed out. Lyle hesitated in the doorway. ‘Councillor?’

  ‘Thank you, Lyle.’

  Lyle shot a glance at me and closed the door. There was a smooth click and Levistus and I were alone. Although I could see down through the window into the main hall, with the door closed the room was suddenly silent. Soundproofed. People outside could neither see nor hear.

  I’d been scanning ahead ever since I landed outside, looking into the future of what was going to happen to Luna and to me, and I’d found no sign of danger – at least, no immediate danger. But beyond that door, the future had broken up, forking into too many different paths, and now I knew why.

  Divination can only predict what can be predicted. Some things are truly random, or so close that it makes no difference. You can’t predict the roll of a dice, because there are so many thousands of things that can nudge it one way or another that by the time you could pick out a future it would have stopped rolling. Any really complex system has too much chaos to be easily predictable; it follows patterns, but not ones that can be reliably foreseen. But there’s another thing that can’t be predetermined – thought. Free will is one of the points at which divination magic breaks down. If a person hasn’t made a choice, then no magic can see beyond it. You can see probabilities, but they’re no more than guesses, wisps that fade as fast as they appear.

  Looking into the future of what Levistus was going to do, I came up with so many answers I couldn’t begin to pick one, dozens of futures branching in every direction, ever-shifting. Some looked peaceful; others didn’t. This was a dangerous man.

  When I didn’t move, Levistus gestured to the chair on his right. ‘Sit.’

  ‘What about her?’

  Levistus looked up at me. ‘Who?’

  I cleared my throat. ‘You asked for everyone to leave.’ I nodded at an empty space about six feet behind where Levistus was sitting. ‘What about her?’

  Levistus watched me for a long moment, his face showing nothing, and for the second time in two minutes my skin crawled briefly. ‘Thirteen,’ he said at last. ‘Visible.’

  The air in the spot I’d looked at shimmered and took form. One moment it was empty, the next a wispy, transparent figure of a woman was standing there, its shape visible as thin lines in the gloom. It was an air elemental – but it wasn’t. Normal elementals have a primal feel to them, something timeless and alien. Except for her body of air, this one looked like a real woman. She was tall, with long legs and hair falling around her shoulders, and she was naked, her body clearly visible. She looked sensual, eerily beautiful, and I felt my body responding until I saw her eyes. They glowed a faint white, and they were utterly empty. She watched me blankly, like a statue, completely still.

  ‘Interesting,’ Levistus said. ‘How did you detect her?’

  I hadn’t detected her. ‘Trade secrets.’

  ‘Hm.’ Levistus looked away. ‘Take a seat. Thirteen, to the corner.’

  Silently, the air elemental glided to the corner of the room. I noticed that the place she had been standing would have put her right behind the chair Levistus had indicated for me, and felt a slight chill. Whatever she was, that creature scared me. She had been totally invisible, both to my eyes and to my mage’s sight. The only way I’d known she was there had been through the common elements in the futures ahead of us and, from my brief look, they hadn’t been pleasant ones.

  I took the chair to the other side of Levistus, the one he hadn’t nodded to. As I did, I searched my memory for everything I knew about the man sitting next to me. Though not yet a senior member, Levistus was talked about as one of the more powerful members of the Council, and that put him in the political top ten of the entire country. If Lyle was one of his agents, he’d progressed even faster than I’d thought. Like most Council masters, Levistus was believed to use mind magic, but that could just as easily be rumour. Beyond that, his nature and goals were a mystery … but nothing I’d heard suggested he was in the habit of employing out-of-favour diviners.

  The view below us was directly onto the sphere arena. Spheres is an old, old game among mages, and two players had just started a bout, their faces locked in concentration as their globes of light formed, moving inwards into the sphere, one set white, one set black. A crowd had gathered to watch, standing on the raised steps around the arena, talking to each other as they followed the movements. Both the lights in the sphere and the crowd moved in eerie silence, inaudible through the layer of glass.

  ‘I believe you may be able to help me with a problem,’ Levistus said. His voice was educated, detached, with no trace of emotion. His eyes didn’t rest on me as he spoke but looked down at the hall below, passing over the crowd. ‘I expect Lyle has told you the details.’

  ‘Some of them,’ I said. I could see the air elemental, Thirteen, out of the corner of my eye; she was still watching me.

  ‘The relic contains a Precursor artifact. I want you to retrieve it.’

  ‘Contains?’ I managed to keep my voice only mildly curious.

  ‘The relic is a storage device. The artifact is within.’

  In the sphere below, the globes of light clashed, manoeuvring for position. One spun away, winking out as it left the sphere, and the crowd applauded silently. ‘I think,’ I said, ‘if I’m going to be retrieving this item, I’d like to know a little more about it.’

  ‘That is not your concern.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Councillor,’ I said. ‘I’m not going to take this job unless I know exactly what this thing does.’

  Levistus turned to look at me. Up close, I could see that his eyes were colourless, a pale grey, revealing nothing. I held my breath, feeling my muscles tingling. The futures ahead of me flickered and changed.

  Levistus opened his mouth and one future eclipsed the others, becoming real. ‘The artifact is an item known as a fateweaver,’ he said. ‘It has the ability to alter chance and outcomes. In appearance it is a wand of ivory, unmarked, approximately twelve inches long.’

  ‘I’m sure you could lay hands on a dozen chance mages who could alter outcomes, Councillor.’

  Levistus made an irritated brushing motion, as if to say he didn’t have time for flattery. It had been a long time since I’d spoken with a Council mage, but the conversation wasn’t going how I’d expected. High-level mages tend to be full of their own importance, expecting compliments and ceremony. Levistus was all business. It made him easier to talk to, but also more dangerous. ‘Fateweavers are spoken of in the histor ies. Commanders in the Dark Wars carried them, and there are references to them changing the course of entire battles. This is the first opportunity to see one recovered intact. It is essential it does not fall into the hands of a Dark mage.’

  I nodded slowly, remembering. The Dark Wars had ended the Precursor civilisation. Records of that time were fragmentary, but it was well known that the weapons employed had been devastating. If this artifact was one of them, it was clear why everyone wanted it so badly.

  Another burst of silent applause came from the crowd below. The globes were interlinked, now, both mages manoeuvring for position. ‘I believe that answers your question,’ Levistus said.

  It didn’t, but it was clear that was all he was going to tell me. I didn’t want to push further so I switched to a safer subject. ‘What about payment?’

  ‘You will have the favour of a member of the High Council.’ Levistus turned to look at me with his grey eyes. ‘I would consider that payment enough.’

  ‘I appreciate the o
ffer, Councillor, but I’d prefer something more tangible.’

  ‘The prospect of keeping this item out of Dark hands doesn’t appeal to you?’

  Damn, this guy was good. He knew about my past, and he was using it. And he was right: if this thing really was a weapon from the Dark Wars, there was no way I’d want someone like Cinder in control of it.

  But that didn’t mean I trusted the Council with it, either. And I had the sudden feeling that Levistus was testing me. He obviously knew I had no love for Dark mages or the Council. But he probably didn’t know whether I was an idealist or a cynic. Depending on how I answered … Seconds ticked away.

  ‘I don’t think it’s my business whose hands it ends up in,’ I said at last.

  Levistus was watching me with those blank, colourless eyes. ‘A mercenary, then?’

  I looked back at him. ‘Yes.’

  There was a moment’s silence, then Levistus nodded slightly, and I felt the futures ahead of us shift as something fell into place. ‘The service I require from you is a simple one. You will assist the investigation team in gaining entry to the relic, and you will make your way through the relic’s defences to retrieve the fateweaver. In return, you will have your pick of the other items within.’

  ‘How do I know there will be any other items?’

  ‘I can arrange payment in other terms if you wish. But –’ Levistus tilted his head slightly, ‘– the chance for first pick of an undisturbed Precursor relic? I doubt you truly intend to pass that up.’

  A beat, then I nodded. Down below at the arena, the crowd had thickened, and all of them now seemed to be watching intently. A group of globes arced around, and another round of applause broke out, the men in their suits and the women in their elaborate dresses clapping silently behind the crystal.

  ‘And once you have the fateweaver, you will bring it to me.’

  ‘Wouldn’t the leader of the team be responsible for that?’

  ‘The leader is not your concern,’ Levistus said. ‘I am employing you to retrieve the item. That is what you are being rewarded for.’

  ‘Doesn’t the Arrancar ruling …?’

  ‘The Arrancar ruling states that archaeological finds must be submitted to the Council.’ Levistus spoke without heat or emphasis. ‘I am a member of the Council; therefore, you will submit it to me. The item’s destination is a Council secret. You will reveal the terms of your employment to no one, not even authorised Council representatives. Should any of the mages on site attempt to take the artifact for themselves, they are to be considered Dark agents and neutralised in any manner necessary.’

  My heart stopped beating for an instant, then sped up. What Levistus was asking me to do was just one step away from treason. And keeping it secret … ‘Does the team know about this?’

  ‘As I said, you are to reveal the terms of your employment to no one.’ Levistus’ eyes rested on me, steady and incurious. ‘I believe it is time you gave me your answer, Mr Verus. Do you agree to the terms of this contract? Yes or no?’

  I needed time to think. ‘You’re asking for a lot.’

  ‘Which is why you are being paid so handsomely. As I said: yes or no?’

  I suddenly realised that the future before me had split into two paths. Levistus wasn’t kidding. He was only going to accept a yes or no answer. And if I said no …

  I looked into the future of what would happen, and it was all I could do not to jump. If I said no, Levistus’ air elemental, Thirteen, was going to kill me, right here, right now. She would send her body down my throat and suffocate me as I thrashed helplessly while Levistus watched with his fingers steepled and half an eye on the people below. Then she would transmute my body to air and remove any trace that I had ever walked into this room. I snapped back to the present and took a deep breath. The room was silent, still but for the movements of the crowd behind the crystal. They were fewer than fifty yards away but might as well have been on the moon. Trying not to show anything on my face, I looked sideways to see that Thirteen was still standing there, her face blank, and it was all I could do not to shudder.

  I’d walked into something out of my league. Levistus wanted this artifact for himself, not for the Council, and he was willing to kill to keep it. Information wasn’t my priority any more. Walking out of this room alive was.

  ‘You realise it may not be possible to gain access to the artifact,’ I said at last.

  ‘And if so, you will be compensated for your time,’ Levistus replied. ‘However, should the artifact be accessible, I will expect that it be delivered to my hands, rather than anyone else’s. Quickly and discreetly.’

  The bout below had reached its climax. The crowd all watched intently as the black and white spheres swirled with dizzying speed. ‘Will I have any … assistance with this?’

  For the first time Levistus smiled, a thin, dry smile that did not touch his eyes. ‘Oh, I have many agents, Mr Verus. Rest assured, they will be there, making sure everything goes to plan.’

  The silence in the room stretched out, second passing upon second. ‘Well, Councillor,’ I said at last, my mouth dry. ‘You make an offer that’s difficult to refuse.’

  ‘Excellent,’ Levistus said. ‘I believe our business is concluded.’

  7

  I barely noticed the blades of the mantis golems as I walked out. My heart was still pounding and, as I came back onto the balcony ring, the chatter of the crowd below was like soothing music. I kept moving, dimly aware of people to either side of me, only caring about gaining as much distance as I could from Levistus and his personal killer.

  Someone was calling my name. I didn’t pay attention. A hand came down on my shoulder and I turned to see Lyle’s face frowning at me. ‘Are you deaf? I need you to—’

  Most mages don’t study hand-to-hand fighting; they rely on their magic for everything. I’m not most mages. I’ve been studying martial arts for a long time and, while I’m nowhere near a master, I’m a lot faster than I look. After you study long enough, the basic moves become reflex. I was on edge, and Lyle grabbing my shoulder was all it took to make me snap.

  Lyle’s back slammed against the wall hard enough to knock the wind out of him. I leant into him, one arm against his throat, and this time I didn’t go to any effort to avoid causing pain. ‘You asshole,’ I hissed into his face from a few inches away. ‘Were you in on this? If I hadn’t walked out of that room, what would you have done?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Lyle choked. His eyes were shocked, frightened.

  ‘How much do you know?’

  ‘You’re crazy! Get off me!’

  ‘How much did you know, Lyle?! What did Levistus tell you?’

  ‘I don’t know!’ There was panic on Lyle’s face; he was sweating. ‘He just needed a diviner! That’s all he said!’

  ‘Do you think I’m that fucking stupid? Levistus’ pet was about to kill me! What were you going to say, that I’d just gone for a walk?’

  ‘What? There wasn’t anyone there!’

  I glared into Lyle’s eyes for a long moment and saw only terror. He was more scared than he should be, and it was with only mild surprise that I realised that deep down, Lyle was a coward. He could act strong when he was in control, but put him in real danger and he crumbled. It’s funny how you can know someone for half your life, and then some trivial thing opens your eyes. I’d always known safety was Lyle’s religion, yet for some reason I’d never made the connection.

  I let go, and Lyle fell back, shrinking into the corner of the alcove. ‘You’re a fool,’ I said quietly. ‘You’re telling me you didn’t know what sort of man you were working for? I don’t buy it, Lyle. You knew; you just didn’t want to think about it. Just like always.’ I shook my head. ‘You haven’t changed at all.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ But Lyle’s eyes were scared. I knew he was lying, and so did he.

  I walked away. There were a handful of others up on this section of the balcony, and
they’d all stopped to watch. They eyed me as I passed. News of this would spread quickly, but right now, I didn’t care.

  The second-floor balcony ran the entire circuit of the hall, and its side was open to the floor below. Arched pillars supported the level above my head and a steel handrail gave protection against falling. After a moment my thoughts steadied enough for me to realise that I was walking back around towards the dance floor, where I’d last seen Luna. I kept going, hoping to spot her from above, and before long I was within earshot of the band again. The music was captivating, and I felt my pulse starting to slow. I settled into the shadow of one of the pillars and leant on the railing, looking down over the crowd.

  As I looked from side to side my mind flitted back over my encounter with Levistus. I finally understood what Helikaon had been trying to tell me. I’d never liked the Council, but I realised now that I’d been blind to the threat it could be. I’d walked into that room without understanding just how dangerous the competition for this artifact was, and I’d nearly paid for it with my life. Well, now I did understand. Everyone after this artifact was willing to kill to get it, and if things kept going as they were, I was going to end up in the middle. That was not a safe place to be.

  I felt a presence to one side and turned. A man was standing on the balcony a few steps away. ‘Mr Verus?’ His voice was cultured, polite. ‘Might I have a word?’

  ‘Depends on the word.’ I studied the man. His clothes looked high quality but nondescript. He had no visible escort or companion, which could mean something, or nothing at all.

  The man smiled slightly. ‘I believe you’ve just had a meeting with Councillor Levistus. I’d like to offer my assistance, should you be willing to accept it.’