by Jasmine Walt
What the hell was I supposed to do about Ada? My mind was blank, everything I knew about how to deal with emergencies wiped out by the horror of Alan’s death. I didn’t know him, only that he was one rank above me, from the office next to ours, but whatever attacked him had torn him to pieces. Inside freaking Central. A human couldn’t have done it.
Ada had been running from this corridor when I’d caught her—she definitely wouldn’t have had time to get all the way over to the elevators. She wasn’t the killer, but to have melted the lock off the door like that was second level magic. There either had to be a small crater in that room which I’d missed, or she’d somehow absorbed some of the backlash herself. Which was another matter entirely.
I couldn’t stand guard here forever. But neither could I let her get away again. I studied the lock. She must have used something else to absorb the backlash. The problem with magic was that it was damned impossible to use it safely even if you did know what you were doing. The odds of accidentally hurting or killing another person were too high. You couldn’t stop the backlash, and even if you had the forethought to dodge it yourself, there was no guarantee no innocent bystander wouldn’t walk into it.
I glanced up at the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and my gaze fell on a clipboard discarded on the floor, like someone had dropped it. Ada’s name leaped out from the top of the page, and there were notes clipped underneath. Pages of notes. Whose were these, Ms Weston’s?
Another word leaped out: ENZAR.
Of course. No wonder I hadn’t been able to tell which world she was from—Enzar was listed as out of bounds, and no contact with other worlds was allowed. As far as I knew, the Alliance had started out trying to reach a peace treaty between the two warring sides, but it became clear it’d only get even more people killed, so the council had issued a blanket noninterference statement and closed it off. Plainly, this girl had been smuggled out.
Why? Because she was valuable? She must be mageblood, a magic-wielder, which explained the way she could use magic here on Earth. Not that she’d be able to go above second level—at least, I thought not.
The Alliance wasn’t out to imprison magic-wielders, especially from places like that, despite the council’s statement—hell, it contradicted the Alliance’s first principle, for a start. There had to be a way around it, if I could convince Ms Weston she wasn’t a killer. And convince Ada herself that we weren’t fucking morons. I had to smile at that. The public might view our headquarters as a flashy nuisance, but I’d always had the impression there was a general agreement that the Alliance was a force for good, even if most people didn’t know the extent of it. Ada, though, had clearly been brought up in an environment that had taught her they were something to be feared.
That didn’t have to be the case. Not at all.
I hid the file behind my back as someone came downstairs. Carl.
“There you are. You’re needed upstairs.”
“The prisoner’s in there,” I said, in a low voice. “She melted the lock.” I moved closer to the door again in case I had to brace it shut.
“Damn. Okay.” He paused, glanced up and down the corridor. “Don’t tell anyone you witnessed this.”
And he pulled a stunner from his pocket, jamming it into the hole where the lock used to be. Magic sparked from the tip, but it remained in place.
“She won’t be able to touch it without getting zapped,” he said. “It’s too strong to break through. You can’t unlock it now, but I’ll tell Ms Weston. She’ll have the girl relocated soon as we sort out this mess.” His face was grim. “Alan dead… I’ve never seen anything like it.” He glanced at the lock on the door.
“It wasn’t her,” I said. “She ran into me back there in the main corridor. She was coming from this direction. She wouldn’t have had time to get to the lifts. There’s no other way there apart from the stairs.”
“No,” he said. “Her room was guarded right up until the alert went out, after they found him. I’ll wager she took advantage of the confusion.” He gave the stunner a tap. “That’s coated in antimagic. She won’t be able to blast through that.”
“She shouldn’t have been able to do magic at all here on Earth,” I said, shaking my head. Though he’d reminded me of something. “Why not make the doors out of adamantine?”
“Honestly? I’ve no idea,” he said, eying the steel door. “There’s a limit on importing offworld substances, and we don’t haul magic-wielders in here every week. Besides, antimagic can hurt magic-wielders. Like the handcuffs. It wouldn’t be in our interests if she turned out to be someone important.”
Hmm. Someone important? I didn’t think she was, somehow… but the distinction bugged me all the same. The Alliance’s first mandate was to always help people in a crisis—above everything else. Whatever the girl had done, she must have been in a hell of a crisis to end up running from a wyvern.
Another spark flew from the stunner. Small, but Carl’s eyes followed it, too. “That’s not right,” he muttered. “Never seen the magic level this high on Earth before.”
“You can tell?”
“We magic-wielders are usually asked to keep an eye on it.”
Wait. He was a magic-wielder? Well, shit.
Apparently, he saw something in my expression. “You can use it, too?” he asked.
I nodded. Aric was bound to tell everyone sooner or later, and besides, it was an advantage here, even if I didn’t have any intention of ever using magic again.
“I’ll put that on record. Might get you a promotion.”
That was unexpected. “Cheers,” I said, following him upstairs, all too conscious that we were leaving Ada locked in her room, with no way out.
We have to be certain, I reminded myself. But that didn’t make me feel any better about it.
12
Ada
That night was the longest of my life. I could almost feel the oxygen draining from the room, now that the lock was stuck. Permanently. It was so hard to breathe, I had to sit and put my head between my legs for a good five minutes.
I’d never had a panic attack in my life. But then again, I’d never been magically sealed in a room and left there overnight.
To make things worse, the Chameleon was dead. I thought so, anyway, because I couldn’t get a message through. I tried every hour—no way was I getting any sleep—but never heard Jeth’s voice on the other end. Never heard a single sound.
Morning. I imagined the sun rising over the tower blocks of central London, the hum of traffic picking up, the noises as people went about their days. Ordinary people going to work, school, tourists visiting the sights, others passing through to get to the airports and the rest of the world. Millions of lives, barely aware of the other world standing in their midst, untouchable, all-powerful.
“Jeth.” My voice was a whisper now. My throat hurt from screaming, and my eyes stung and itched with the contacts. I was in so, so much trouble. I let tears fall down my cheeks, knowing no one could see. No one in this stupid building cared enough to even check I was still alive.
“Jeth, please.”
Silence. I hated the quiet. At home, I always had music playing, or there were people around, people to talk to. Strangers to share stories with. Nell. She’d be able to handle this situation. Nell could deal with anything.
By now, Jeth would have told her where I was. Her, and Alber and Skyla, and everyone else who could get me the hell out of here. Maybe even Delta and his family. I hoped they were still helping the refugees. Didn’t look like any of them would be able to come to Earth for a while.
Guilt choked me. I needed to be out there helping them. I was no use to anyone here.
I should be able to get myself out of here, I thought. I’d run without thinking and paid the price, and now I’d acted like a total lunatic in front of those guards, they had even more reason to think of me as a crazy murderer.
I walked back over to the door, another idea taking shape. I’d used magic to b
ust the lock already. Could I take the hinges off? It was apparent that magic did work in the Alliance’s headquarters—the walls might be magicproofed, but even antimagic wasn’t enough to keep it out altogether. That was how I’d broken in, after all. The door looked like ordinary Earth steel to me. Magic wasn’t supposed to work here at all, and I doubted every inch of the place was equipped to hold a magic-wielder from somewhere like Enzar. Even Alber, an average magic-wielder by Enzar’s standards, couldn’t use magic on Earth… but I could.
The magic wasn’t as potent as in the Passages, but enough for me to break through this door. At least, I hoped.
I focused on the thin film over my vision—it never really went away, though it had dimmed over the past day—and found the place in the room where it was thickest. Then I readied myself to push on it. This confined space was a risky place to try this. But I was all out of options.
Crash. The door opened, and Ms Weston came in again. If it were possible, she looked even more severe than last time, her mouth drawn into such a thin line it almost disappeared.
“Ada Fletcher,” she said. “It seems that prior to last evening’s disturbance, the results of your tests came out. The magic you used to break out of this room confirms our results.
“Your blood tested as originating in Enzar, central world of the Enzarian Empire, and identifies you as a nonmage. However… you have magic. It turns out that the Alliance have a copy of the Royals’ records. Twenty-five years ago, we were in negotiations to make Enzar part of the Alliance, though as you know, that ended badly. However, the records remain. Your blood identifies you as of the Royal line, heirs to the Empire.”
My breath caught in my throat. I knew it already, of course, but it was horrible beyond belief to hear those words coming from the mouth of a stranger. Royal. Did she have any idea how many people had died in that name?
“It seems you were to be one of the potential heirs, and were implanted with magic, in a way. You’re named as… Adamantine.”
Implanted? If breathing had been hard before, now it was like my lungs were caught in a vice. The Royals had done what?
“Implanted?” I said, my voice a hoarse whisper. I’d always known that the Royals were one particular extended family of nonmages who had somehow turned the tables on the magebloods and turned every one of them into slaves for their empire. Nell had never said how they’d done it, when the magebloods were the ones with magic on their side. I’d assumed they’d had some kind of weapon.
And I’d always known there was something odd about how I could use magic when I wasn’t supposed to have any. The one theory I’d had—and Nell had refused to say otherwise—was that I must be part mageblood somewhere. Because magic was mine. Not someone else’s.
Not the Royals’. They hadn’t… implanted something in me.
And if it was true?
Adamantine. My real first name. It was supposed to be a reminder of my true world. To ensure I never forgot. Hearing it from Ms Weston’s mouth… I couldn’t say a word, and I knew she saw every tremble, every moment of weakness. Her words had exposed my very core. The Alliance shouldn’t have known about my blood family. They didn’t have the right to.
“We don’t know how they did this. In any case, it worked. You can use magic the same as a mageblood. I believe this is how the Royals upheld their Empire and ensured that they were the ones who had control of magic. They would have given the Royal-blooded enough magic to overpower regular magebloods.”
Wrong. Wrong. The words coming from her mouth had an unmistakable current of truth. How could this woman know so much? How could she?
The real question was… did Nell know?
I was hardly aware of the door closing until I was alone again. Alone with my thoughts. And my tainted blood.
KAY
“This is going to be the death of me,” Markos announced, as I walked into the office the next morning. “I swear the Alliance is trying to run us into the ground. How in the name of all gods are you so wide awake?”
“Caffeine and human souls,” I said, with my best deadpan expression. Or, years of pulling all-nighters for Academy drills. Whichever worked.
Markos laughed so loudly everyone in the office looked in our direction. “You’re going to get us all arrested,” he said. “Save the inappropriate humour for after the investigation.”
“At this rate, there won’t be an ‘after’,” I said, checking my communicator for updates. And at this rate, the staff might as well take up permanent residence at Central. If nothing else, it’d save on petrol. I’d barely had time to do more last night than eat, shower and crash. After waking with a killer headache, I had even less patience for a day of being grilled to death by Ms Weston. I could already hear her telling me all the ways I’d mishandled the situation yesterday. Well, I’d done my job. I’d locked up a defenceless girl in a room no one could get out of, and Ms Weston hadn’t deigned to respond to my message asking when they planned to move her to another room.
“The dragon’s gone to breathe fire somewhere else,” said Markos. “Leaving us all this paperwork. Enjoy!”
“I swear this crap multiplies when we’re not here,” I muttered, picking up a sheet of paper. “What even is this?”
“Don’t ask me, I haven’t a clue. It’s probably all our obituaries.”
“Don’t say that,” said Ellen, from the corner. “They should have evacuated the building. Maybe relocated us to West Office.”
“They couldn’t transfer all the staff at Central over there,” said Markos. “Besides, half the council’s offworld. It’s terrible timing.”
“Damn right,” I said. “Two murders—both on this floor.”
“Technically, Alan was halfway between third and fourth… well, bits of him were.”
“Markos!” Ellen’s face went greenish-white. “Cut that out.”
“Sorry, sorry.” Markos went back to the papers.
“I’m going out for a bit,” said Ellen. “I can’t think in here.”
She stood, and I saw her hands trembling as she walked to the door.
“Oh, gods,” said Markos. “See, this is why I was never a good Ambassador.”
“I’ll go talk to her,” I said.
I caught up to her outside. “Sorry about last night,” I said. “Guess our tour of the neighbourhood will have to wait.”
“Not a problem.” She managed to smile back at me. After the crap I’d seen over the past twenty-four hours, it was more than welcome. “I just… I’ve known Alan two years. He was the first person to say hi to me when I came here. It’s surreal. Who’d kill off people in our office?”
“God knows,” I said.
Ellen shook her head. “I’ve got to go anyway—patrolling in an hour.” She yawned. “If I can stay awake. Tempted to take a nap, but I don’t want Weston on my case.”
“I’m surprised she’s not around,” I said. “She can’t still be with the prisoner?”
“I forgot about that. Did she really get out again? I’d literally just left Central when I got the call.”
Like I wanted to remember. “Yeah, she used magic and melted the lock on the door.” I didn’t mention the communicator incident. I had to preserve some dignity.
“Clever,” she said. “Must be a powerful magic-wielder, then.”
Yeah. She is. And I was probably on her hit list. Not that she’d be getting away again.
“Yeah, the timing was pretty crappy. Right after they found Alan. Place was in chaos already.”
“She didn’t kill him?”
“No, she escaped after the alert went out,” I said. “It looks bad, though. You should go get ready for your shift, right?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you later.”
“Did I just hear what I think I heard?” said Markos, as soon as she’d disappeared. How in hell had he managed to hide himself behind a cabinet?
“If you were eavesdropping, then probably,” I said, rubbing my temples. Damn headache.
“I feel it is my duty to warn you I saw her talking to Aric earlier, and he was talking about you.”
And there went the brief reprieve from the universe’s crap. “That figures.” I raised my head to face the ceiling, like if I stared hard enough, whoever up there was laughing at me would fall out his seat and get a concussion.
“Using my highly developed intuitive powers, I’ve concluded that something happened at the Academy involving you, Aric, and a girl.”
“And I’ve concluded that you’re a nosy bastard.” Not my best comeback. But damn if I didn’t want the day to be over already.
“I like to know my colleagues.” His expression changed, becoming more serious. “I overhear a lot of things. I saw Alan leave the office before he died. He was carrying a bunch of papers… said he was going to the archives.”
God. No.
“That file,” I said, my throat dry. No—there was no way.
“I reckon so, human.”
“Damn,” I said. “Damn it all to hell.” If I’d been the one to take the file to the archives—if I hadn’t been interrupted—and yet it wasn’t my own life I feared for. Maybe it should have been, but perhaps I hadn’t reached that level of paranoia yet. That, or as Simon had frequently said at the Academy, I had no sense of self-preservation.
How could I walk away from this now? If it wasn’t for Ms Weston’s invisible presence, I was on the brink of heading back to the archives and having a closer look in the section where the bloodrock research had come from. Because that was the one connection between the two deaths. I couldn’t risk telling anyone.
“Don’t go doing anything rash, human.”
I glanced over my shoulder, making sure no one else was close enough to hear.
“I read the file,” I said in a low voice. “There was nothing incriminating in there. Nothing I imagine anyone would murder someone over.” But then, I didn’t know a whole lot about bloodrock. Only as much as the file had said. A substance with the potential for limitless energy. I could see why the Alliance would keep it a secret…