“Received,” Variam’s voice said into my ear.
“Here’s where the fun begins,” Luna murmured. Behind the mask, her eyes were bright with anticipation.
“I’ll take the adult mages,” I said quietly. “You cover the apprentices.”
“I’ll start with the ones on the far wall.”
“Stay in touch.” A man moved away from a group ahead of us and looked towards me. “Go.” Luna split off, angling past the duelling ring towards a cluster of Dark apprentices standing in the shadow of the balcony. The man took a few steps towards me, and I slowed to let him intercept my path.
The funny thing is that what I was trying to do here would never work at a Light ball. Light mages are so much more organised; you don’t even get in the door without an invitation, and the guest list is examined carefully. Their society is more close-knit, and even the most reclusive Light mages have colleagues. Dark society, on the other hand, isn’t really a society at all. Amongst Dark mages security and relationships are all handled on an individual level; if you have a problem, then by default it’s up to you to do something about it. While there’s a loose code of conduct, the only way rules are imposed is if the one in charge is powerful enough to enforce his will on a collection of Dark mages (rare) or if the Dark mages in question are willing to submit to him (even rarer).
Secrecy and paranoia are also much bigger deals in the Dark world—Light mages aren’t exactly trusting, but Dark mages take it to the extreme. I wasn’t the only mage here wearing a mask, and it was a safe bet that I wasn’t the only one pretending to be someone I wasn’t, either. The really paranoid mages wouldn’t be physically here at all; they’d be miles away, utilising projections or simulacra. The man in front of me wasn’t one of them, though, as far as I could tell—he was wearing a mask, but my best guess was that he was here in the flesh. “Avis,” he said with a nod.
As soon as he’d made a move towards me I’d begun searching through the futures in which I spoke to him, cross-referencing against the names I’d seen from Jagadev’s guest list. Futures flashed past, there and discarded in a fraction of a second, flick-flick-flick: Ansek, Chance, Chojan, Emerel, Ever, Fabius, Gorith—close but not quite, similar sound—there. “Ordith,” I replied.
Ordith fell into step beside me. I didn’t know anything about the man except his name and that he was a mage. He was wearing brown and silver, and radiated no magic. “Generous of you to show up.”
The tone was slightly mocking, but Ordith’s body language was cautious. “I did not come here for you to waste my time,” I told him. “Get to the point.”
I felt Ordith’s eyebrows rise. “Sensitive,” he murmured. “I was just curious about your position on the new proposal.”
What proposal? A figure caught my eye at the foot of the stairs, slim and deadly: Onyx. If Onyx was here, then so was his master, and Talisid had—I stopped and turned on Ordith. To approach me first he must be at the bottom of the chain, not the top. “Is that your game now?”
“What do you mean?”
I shook my head. “Tell Morden to run his own errands.” I was trying lines of dialogue through the futures. I didn’t need to get it perfect, just to avoid the puzzled reaction that indicated a misstep.
“Come on,” Ordith said. He was wearing a smile intended to take the edge off his words. “You’re hardly an active player.”
“I hope you aren’t expecting anything for free.” What was Morden up to? I should have paid more attention to what Talisid had been telling me. “What about Jagadev?”
“Jagadev knows not to take sides in such matters.”
I didn’t really have any idea what we were talking about but one of the things my first master drilled into us was that when you’re uncertain, you attack. “I have no intention of rearranging my plans to suit Morden’s convenience.”
Ordith’s smile didn’t change. “Morden can be quite persuasive.”
“Don’t try to threaten me. I will support whoever offers the greatest benefit—as will those I represent.”
Ordith’s smile faltered a little. “Those you—?”
“Enough,” I said curtly. I couldn’t see any way I could bring Anne into this conversation, which meant I was wasting my time. “I have other business.” I changed direction and walked away.
Without looking, I knew that Ordith was staring after me; after a moment he turned and headed towards the foot of the stairs. Maybe messing around in Dark politics wasn’t the smartest thing I could possibly be doing. Oh well.
The communicator in my ear gave a quiet two-tone beep, followed by Caldera’s voice. “Testing. Verus, do you read?”
“Receiving,” I said, turning away from the bulk of the crowd.
“We’re approaching the Tiger’s Palace. Did you manage to scout it out?”
“Yep,” I said, turning to look back over the floor. I could see an interesting-looking group of people near the stairs. “Got a really good view, actually.”
“Any guests I should know about?”
“Morden.” And possibly me, but no point worrying her with trivialities.
“Should have guessed.” Caldera broke off for a second, then resumed. “Sonder and I are ten minutes out. Keep up observation and let us know the instant something happens. Don’t go inside. Clear?”
It looked as though the one at the centre of the crowd was Morden. I started walking towards him. “Stay where I am,” I said. “Got it.”
“Good. Heading in now.” The communicator beeped as the connection closed.
For a diviner, going into the middle of a crowd like this is dangerous. The major limiting factor on how far divination magic can look into the future is unpredictability; the more variables in your surroundings, the shorter your viewing range. In a sealed room with no extraneous movement I can see ahead for hours, days if I push it. Here, I could see ahead for maybe a minute at best. Different futures branched and broke off ahead of me, shadowy and twisting, individual Dark mages noticing me, approaching, interacting, every possibility changing at a moment’s notice. The futures in which I spoke to someone broke up almost immediately, thousands of branching choices all packed in upon each other, the unpredictable elements building upon each other and multiplying into an ever-changing blur.
If something went wrong here, I’d have very little time to react. When divination’s your primary defence it’s much safer to avoid these gatherings, and that’s exactly what most diviners do: hide themselves away in some deserted location where they can see any potential threats a long way off. But divination magic works in close quarters too, as long as you don’t mind a little risk. When you’re talking face to face with someone you might be able to see ahead only a few seconds, but they’re an important few seconds, and you can learn a lot more than you would staying at home.
As I approached the stairs I saw that Morden had quite an audience going, with half a dozen Dark mages gathered around him. He also had Onyx standing right at his shoulder, which was enough to make me very sure I didn’t want to stop for a chat. Ordith was hovering at the edge of the conversation, looking as though he was waiting for Morden to finish. I stayed out of earshot, but as I did I picked out the futures in which I moved closer, looking to see what I would hear if I joined their group.
“. . . be the case,” Morden was saying. He wasn’t wearing a mask; the really powerful Dark mages usually don’t. Dark-haired and handsome, he looked like a politician, though most politicians can’t kill you from across the room without lifting a finger. “I hope I can count on your support.”
“Your interest in this cause is hardly universal, Morden,” another mage said. “The Light mages have little to offer us.”
“Then perhaps those who feel that way would prefer to take it up with my associate.”
A faint ripple, almost too quick to be sensed, went through the audience. Morden look
ed inquiringly from side to side; when no answer came, he went on. “Neither of us expects any great sacrifice. All you have to do is stand aside and let nature take its course.”
“Nature?”
“It’s the direction things have been going, wouldn’t you say?”
All the time Morden had been talking I’d been moving, and I was reaching the point where I was about to pass out of eavesdropping range. I could linger, but I’d risk detection, and it didn’t sound as though this had anything to do with Anne . . .
. . . except that Anne had once told me a long time ago that Morden had offered her the position of his apprentice. She’d turned him down—did he still hold a grudge?
As if I didn’t have enough to worry about already.
I took the stairs up to the balcony. A pair of women were speaking quietly under their breath on the landing; they fell silent and eyed me when I passed. Something caught my attention as I searched through the futures, a familiar presence. My eyes narrowed. Her? Now isn’t that interesting . . .
A man and a woman were by the balcony railing. The man was masked, and beyond checking to see that he wasn’t going to cause trouble I didn’t pay him any attention. The woman was another story altogether. She was small and delicate-looking, with coppery skin and deep dark eyes. Her hair was done up in an elaborate style with lacquered sticks, and she wore a narrow black dress that showed off her figure. Right now she was laughing, one hand resting naturally on the man’s arm. “—isn’t it?” she was saying, her voice warm and captivating. “If you could, that would be wonderful.”
“No problem,” the man said. He looked like he was trying to come across as casual and doing a bad job of it. “This evening, then.”
“See you then,” the woman said. The smile stayed on her face as she watched him go.
I’d timed my approach carefully and reached the woman just as she began to turn away. As I passed I caught her arm and swept her along with me. “Meredith,” I said into her ear. From this close I could smell her perfume, something flowery and expensive. “Nice to see you again.”
Meredith is an enchantress, petite and beautiful and, from my fairly definite experience, entirely self-interested. As soon as she heard my voice her head jerked slightly. “Alex?”
“I’d wondered where you’d disappeared to. Who’s your new friend?”
I’d gotten Meredith as far as the balcony railing; she pulled away and I let her go. As I did her eyes flicked quickly down to the club floor. It was so fast it was almost impossible to see, but I’d been watching for it and I knew that the one she’d been looking towards was Morden. When I’d first met Meredith, she’d been working for a Light mage called Belthas—he was gone now but he and Morden had a lot of things in common, and Meredith wasn’t the sort to be especially concerned about whether someone was Dark or Light.
“What are you doing here?” Meredith asked. She was keeping herself under control, but she was on edge, and for good reason. The last time Meredith and I had met, we’d parted on bad terms and she’d given me more than enough reason to hold a grudge.
“Funny,” I said. “I was just about to ask you that. You like to get yourself into trouble, don’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
“The name Anne Walker mean anything to you?”
Meredith shook her head; her eyes were wary but her reaction had been instant and I was fairly sure she was telling the truth. “Hm,” I said. “I guess your new boss works on a need-to-know basis.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Anne Walker’s an apprentice from the Light program,” I said. “She’s gone missing lately. The Keepers are concerned.”
“Well, that’s nothing to do with me.”
I raised an eyebrow.
Meredith looked at me, waiting. I counted off seconds in my head as Meredith’s expression began to shade into annoyance. “Is this it?” she asked. “There isn’t—”
Right on cue, a voice spoke loudly from the far side of the club, pitched to carry across the floor. “Announcing Keeper Caldera of the Order of the Star.”
Every conversation in the Tiger’s Palace fell silent at once, as if someone had hit the Mute button. Caldera was a small figure at the front door, with Sonder a step behind, and she was advancing across the floor. The doorman hadn’t announced anyone else that I’d seen, and I was fairly sure the special treatment hadn’t been meant to do Caldera any favours. Nearly a hundred pairs of eyes watched Caldera and Sonder as they came closer.
“What’s she doing here?” Meredith whispered, looking suddenly unsettled.
I smiled slightly. “Done anything the Keepers might object to lately?”
“Don’t be like that!” Meredith kept her voice low. “Do you know why she’s here?”
“Let’s just say that you might want to find out exactly what Morden’s connection with that girl is. Fast.”
“I don’t know!”
I shrugged and started to turn away.
“Wait!” Meredith caught my shoulder. “Can’t you tell me?”
“I don’t owe you anything.”
“Please.”
“You know what?” I said. “I’ll make you a deal. I’m interested in Anne Walker’s location. Morden knows where she is. Find out, and I’ll tell you why that Keeper’s here and what she wants. And what you need to do to stay away from her.”
Meredith gave me an uncertain look, then hurried away. I leant on the balcony railing, watching Caldera and Sonder approach. As I did, the communicator chimed and I heard Luna’s voice in my ear. “Alex? I can’t see you.”
I was turned away from the others on the balcony, but I kept my voice very quiet. “I’m on the balcony. What’s your status?”
Caldera was approaching the stairs up to the balcony at a steady pace. There was a clear path between her and the stairs, and the Dark mages didn’t exactly block her way . . . but they didn’t move aside, either. Everyone was watching the two of them, and there was a kind of lazy tension in the air, a pack of wolves studying a wolfhound. Caldera’s face was stone, and almost against my will I felt a flash of admiration. The Order of the Star goes after mages who violate the Concord, and no matter how you interpret that, Dark mages are right at the top of their suspect list. Caldera was quite literally walking into a crowd of people whom she hunted for a living, and if those people decided to turn the tables and hunt her, she wouldn’t have a hope in hell of making it out alive. But there was no fear on Caldera’s face or in the way she moved, and the Dark mages stood still, letting her pass. Predators are drawn to weakness, and Caldera wasn’t showing any.
Sonder was another matter. He was half a step behind Caldera, and as the two of them approached I saw eyes drift away from the heavier woman and lock onto him instead. Sonder’s head was up and he was putting on a brave face, but his movements were too quick, too nervous. He looked like a new fish on the prison yard. Without Caldera, I put his life expectancy here at about twenty minutes.
“I’ve been talking to the apprentices,” Luna said into my ear. “Most of them are talking about Morden and that proposal—you know, Dark mages and the Council—but I found out something else. Sagash has apprentices, and they’re here.”
“Good,” I said quietly. Beneath me, I saw Meredith appear from the direction of the stairs and move towards Morden’s little crowd. Caldera and Sonder entered where she’d left, disappearing from my view.
“I think I can find them. I can go after them, or I could try Morden’s—”
“Go after the apprentices. I’ll deal with Morden.”
“Got it.”
From behind me I heard footsteps and I knew Caldera and Sonder were at my back. I stayed facing away, leaning on the balcony rail and tracking them in my future sight. Only after they’d passed by did I turn my head slightly to look. The two of them were moving aroun
d the semicircular balcony, heading for the room at the far end. Jagadev would be within.
I was torn. I badly wanted to talk to Sagash: I hadn’t spotted him yet, but if his apprentices were here he probably was too. On the other hand, looking for him meant leaving Sonder and Caldera on their own, and I could already see two or three Dark mages drifting after them. Caldera should be able to take care of herself, but I wasn’t so sure about Sonder . . .
Sonder and Caldera vanished behind a pillar and I shook my head and turned away. They were adults; they’d have to handle themselves. The only place I hadn’t checked yet was the far side of the balcony, and I headed along it. Down on the club floor I could see that Meredith was talking to one of the mages around Morden. I needed to hurry.
Sagash was at the very end of the balcony, and he was alone. None of the other mages had approached him, and even from a distance I could see why. Being a Dark mage comes with a certain automatic intimidation factor—you don’t get far in Dark society without being ruthless, and even the ones who haven’t reached their current position over a pile of bodies are not to be messed with—but still, most of them practise a certain minimum level of subtlety. Fear is useful, but sometimes you just want to blend in.
Apparently Sagash was of the opinion that blending in was for wimps.
He was taller than me, and skeletally thin. The flesh of his hands and neck was withered, stretched tight over clearly visible tendons and bones, and the fingers grasping the balcony railing looked like claws. His lips were pulled slightly back over his mouth, showing his teeth in an endless mirthless grin, and his skin was yellowed and pale. A black cap covered his skull, and dark robes hung from his bony shoulders. He looked like a cross between a famine survivor and an animated skeleton, but his thin limbs gave no impression of weakness; there was a kind of unnatural immobility about him, coiled and ready for action. I’m not going to say he was the most terrifying-looking human being I’ve ever seen, but I’d have trouble coming up with a better candidate on short notice.
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