Veiled

by Benedict Jacka

  “Somehow I doubt it’d be quite as simple as that, but I get your point. So if you get on so well with White Rose, why don’t you use all of your abundant power to have the indictment squashed?”

  Levistus’s lips thinned. “Unfortunately, certain mages within the Council have taken this opportunity to pursue their existing feuds with White Rose as an organisation.”

  “Gosh,” I said dryly. “I can’t imagine why some of the Light Council would have a problem with an organisation based around sex slavery.”

  “This is not a laughing matter. If Morden achieves his goals, he will command more power than any Dark mage has had since the Gate Rune War.”

  “This is all very interesting,” I said, “but I think there’s something you’ve forgotten. You’re right, I don’t particularly like Morden. However, I also don’t particularly like you. And since Mage Nirvathis is a friend of yours, it’s a safe bet I’m not going to like him either. Why should I care whether the Council seat goes to a Light-aligned bastard or a Dark-aligned bastard?”

  “I was under the impression that you claimed to oppose what Dark mages stood for.”

  “Yeah, you tried that one last time.”

  “And you claimed to be a mercenary. Perhaps it would prevent further miscommunications if you were more honest about your motivations.”

  “Okay then. I don’t like you, I don’t trust you, and I’m not helping you expand your political empire. Is that enough honesty?”

  “And how does your old master factor into your calculations?”

  My voice sharpened. “I don’t see how that’s anything to do with you.”

  “I assume you at least know that Morden and Drakh are working together?” I didn’t answer, but after a moment Levistus went on as if I’d agreed. “Should White Rose fall, the greatest beneficiary will not be Morden. It will be your old master. Whatever his long-term plans, it appears they involve placing Morden on the Council.” Levistus raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps you still serve him after all?”

  “Go screw yourself.”

  Levistus watched me with an expression of polite inquiry. I drew a long breath and let it out, controlling myself. Stupid. He’s provoking me. “I’m not responsible for what Richard does.”

  “You are Drakh’s apprentice.”

  There was something in those words that was hard to describe. There was a kind of finality to it, as though Levistus were telling me something self-evident and timeless. Wind blows, fire consumes, I was Richard’s apprentice, so it was and so it would always be. “I am who I choose to be.”

  “The steel does not choose to be made into a knife.”

  “I’m not your knife, or his.”

  “Then who are you, Alexander Verus?” Levistus asked. “What do you stand for? Whom do you serve?”

  “You don’t have the right to demand answers to those questions.”

  “Evasions. You have nothing upon which to stand. You do not understand yourself, and thus you are easily manipulated. Have you any conception of how far back your master has chosen your steps, shaped your path? You follow in his footsteps without the slightest understanding of how thoroughly you are controlled.”

  I felt a twinge of fear at that. I had no way of knowing how much Levistus knew, or whether he was simply guessing, but what he was saying was too close to the things I secretly feared. If you can’t defend, attack. “Fine,” I said. “Then what do you stand for, Levistus? You tried to have me killed, not once but over and over again. If I hadn’t stopped you, you would have had Luna and Arachne killed too. You wouldn’t have done it because you’d judged them as unworthy. You wouldn’t even have done it because you particularly wanted them dead. They were just in your way. You ordered their deaths with no more concern than you’d have for checking your bank balance. You’re talking as though you think I’m going to take your opinions seriously. What can you possibly say that can outweigh everything you’ve done? Why should I listen to you?”

  “Because you are involved in matters beyond your control,” Levistus said. “You no longer have the option of distancing yourself. Even should you abandon your position in the Keepers and go back to your isolation, it would only buy you a little time. You know that the confrontation will arrive. When it comes, on whose side will you stand?”

  “I’m not on anyone’s side.”

  Levistus made a disgusted noise. “Do not play the fool. If you hinder me, you help Drakh. If you fight against your old master, you assist me. This is elementary common sense.”

  “Is that how you justify what you do?” I asked. “Everything for the sake of victory?”

  “The Council has maintained stability in this world for thousands of years,” Levistus said. “Without us, the Dark mages and the monsters would have torn human civilisation apart millennia ago. Is that what you hope to accomplish?”

  “And when Griff tortured Luna to get to the fateweaver? When Belthas tried to Harvest Arachne for her power? That was all for the greater good, was it? Don’t give me that bullshit.”

  “Power will fall into someone’s hands. Would you prefer that mages such as Drakh or Morden had it instead?”

  “Don’t dodge the question. How do you justify trying to kill me and my friends?”

  “Agents are expendable,” Levistus said. Those odd colourless eyes rested on me with no particular expression. “In the sufficiently long term, everyone is expendable.”

  “Including you?”

  Levistus shrugged. It was an indifferent movement, and in an odd flash of insight I understood something about Levistus that I hadn’t realised before. Levistus wasn’t doing this for himself, not really. He might act out of self-interest, but at some level he did genuinely believe that by keeping himself in power, he was making the world around him a better place.

  It was a worrying thought. Someone who’s amoral and selfish can be a threat to you, but they’re also a threat to everyone else, and that tends to limit how much time they can spend on you personally. But someone who believes in what he’s doing can convince other people that opposing you is the right thing to do. In the long run, that’s a lot more dangerous. “Enough philosophy,” I said. “What do you want?”

  “The conflict between us has grown unproductive,” Levistus said. “I am willing to consider a truce.”

  I studied Levistus. “In other words, you’ve got enough on your plate with Morden that you don’t have the time to keep going after me as well.”

  “As I understand it, you have been making your own preparations for your old master’s return,” Levistus said. “I’m sure you have already calculated your chances of survival should you fight me and him at the same time. You would be wise to limit your enemies.”

  “I thought you said that Richard was controlling everything I did.” I tilted my head, looking at Levistus curiously. “If I’m so much his servant, why would he be coming after me?”

  “As I said—everyone is expendable.”

  “Including your allies.” I tapped two fingers on my arm. “If all you wanted was a truce, all you needed to do was stop going after me. That means you want more.”

  “As a part of our agreement,” Levistus said, “you will cease working against my interests. This means you will take no action against White Rose.”

  I’d carried on tapping my fingers; as Levistus spoke I stopped for a second, then continued. “You realise I’m working for the Keepers now,” I said. I kept my voice casual. “I’m supposed to do what they tell me.”

  “The Keepers serve the Council. They do not all serve the same Council.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that this kind of corruption might be exactly why the Council has so much trouble effectively opposing Dark mages in the first place?”

  “I am not here to engage you in a debate,” Levistus said. “Well?”

  “You know,” I said, “I ca
n’t help noticing that this deal seems a little uneven. You started all this by telling me to work for you or else. When I took the ‘or else,’ you tried to have me killed. Now you’re offering to stop trying to have me killed, and in exchange I’m supposed to commit treason yet again. Bit slanted in your favour, don’t you think?”

  “It is the offer you have.”

  “I’ll make you a counteroffer,” I said. “I’ll go back to the Keepers and do my job. You go back to the Council and do your job. We both ignore each other.”

  “Please tell me you are not truly this stupid.”

  “You know something, Levistus?” I said. “I’m getting a little tired of your backhanded insults. You talk like you’re the gatekeeper of civilisation and I’m the barbarian. It’s irritating.”

  “Your irritation does not concern me,” Levistus said. “And your counteroffer is noted and rejected. My terms stand. Do you accept them, or reject them?”

  “Your ‘terms’ are a glorified threat. Either I do what you want, or you’ll keep on being my enemy. You don’t have anything to offer me.”

  “Correct. I will ask one final time. What is your answer?”

  I looked at Levistus for a long moment. I could lie, obviously. Pretend to agree, then work against him. But I seriously doubted that Levistus was going to act any differently whether I told him yes or no. As far as he was concerned, I was just another Dark mage.

  Just another mage . . .

  “What happened to Leo?” I said.

  Levistus blinked. It was a very small motion, there and gone in a second, but he didn’t manage to conceal it. For the first time in the conversation, I’d surprised him. “Who?”

  “The kid Caldera and I found last night.” I kept my voice calm. “The mages who sent the mantis golem took him. What happened to him?”

  “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

  I looked back at Levistus for a long moment. “No,” I said at last. “I suppose you wouldn’t.”

  “Well?”

  “The answer’s no,” I said. “I’m not going to be your agent to protect White Rose. In fact, I’m not working for you in any capacity. I don’t like you, Levistus. I’ve told you that twice already, and I don’t think you’ve really listened, so I’ll explain more thoroughly this time. I don’t like how you act, I don’t like what you do, and I don’t like what you stand for. You represent everything I most hate about the Council. You have no respect for human life, you deal constantly in betrayals, and yet somehow you also manage at the same time to be completely convinced of your moral superiority over everyone who isn’t a Light mage. Maybe you are Morden and Richard’s enemy, and maybe helping one of you does mean hurting the other. But there’s a certain point where trying to choose the lesser of two evils is just an exercise in futility. It doesn’t matter which of you wins; you’re both so bad that I honestly can’t decide who’d be worse. Working for you would be just as corrupting as being Richard’s apprentice, even if I trusted you enough to do it, which I don’t.” I looked up at Levistus. “Does that explain it well enough for you?”

  Levistus looked back at me for a second. “You disappoint me.”

  “Not halfway close to how disappointed I am in you. When I was a kid, I read stories where the white wizards were all good and moral. Do you have any idea how depressing it was to find out what the Light Council was really like?”

  “Enough.”

  Levistus didn’t speak loudly, but there was something in his tone that made me fall silent. When I didn’t speak for a few seconds, he went on. “You appear to be under the illusion that you have some level of choice. That this is an option that you are free to take or leave.” He regarded me steadily. “You claim that I have been your enemy. This is false. You are, at most, an inconvenience. Should you continue to work against me, that will change. For the first time, I will devote significant resources to your removal. I will not do so out of any personal grudge. I will do so because, as an active tool of Morden and of Drakh, you are a sufficient threat to warrant it.” Levistus’s voice was quite normal, and he looked at me steadily as he continued to speak. “You will be placed under siege. Your allies will be driven away or killed. Your bases of operation will be attacked. The process will not necessarily be swift. It is possible you will survive for months or even years. However, given enough time, the end is inevitable. You will be destroyed. And when you fall, there will be no one left to mourn your passing.”

  I looked back at Levistus, and as I saw the expression on his face I felt a chill. It wasn’t so much the threat. I’ve been threatened plenty of times by mages, often in quite graphic and unpleasant ways. This was something different. I think what scared me the most was the matter-of-fact tone of voice. Levistus didn’t think he was bluffing. He had absolutely no doubt that he could do what he promised, and it shook me more than I’d really expected. For the first time I had a real, almost tangible sense of just how dangerous the man standing in front of me was.

  I didn’t have an answer. Levistus turned and walked away. His footsteps echoed and faded into the background noise of the corridors, and I was left sitting alone by the pool. I looked down at the fish swimming in the water and wondered what I was going to do.

  A few minutes later I heard footsteps and a woman in mage robes walked through the rock garden. As she saw me she paused. “Hello.”

  “Hi.”

  She gave me a doubtful look. “Should you be here?”

  I took a moment to think about it. “I’m not really sure,” I said at last. I rose to my feet and walked out the way I came.

  chapter 10

  It was a couple of hours later when Haken reappeared on the Belfry floor. He was frowning down at the stone and didn’t look up as he made his way over. “How did it go?” I asked.

  Haken glanced up. I was sitting in the alcove in exactly the same place I’d been in when he’d left. “What?”

  “The indictment.”

  “Oh,” Haken dropped onto the bench. “Could have been worse.” He shrugged. “Rain got the worst of it, he’s the one in charge. Going to screw up his chances for his next promotion.”

  “So what did they want to know?” I asked. “More about the case?”

  “No one cares about the case anymore. This whole thing’s become about White Rose. That’s what the prosecutor was pushing for—they want an indictment against the whole organisation. Centrists aren’t going to agree to that but . . .”

  “Then what are they going to do?”

  “Fuck knows,” Haken said with a sigh. “All I know is that we’ll be the ones the shit lands on. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  We got up and started walking out of the Belfry the way we’d arrived. “They kept you in there a long time,” I said.

  “Lot of questions.”

  “When did they let you out?”

  “Look, Verus, you know what ‘closed proceedings’ are, right? I’m not supposed to talk to you about this stuff.”

  I nodded. “Sure.”

  We headed down the tunnels, making the rest of the trip in silence. I didn’t say what I was thinking. While I’d been free in the Belfry, I’d kept myself busy by searching through the futures of questioning the other mages there. Most hadn’t been talkative but I’d found one clerk who’d been willing to help, and she’d told me (or rather, would have told me) that Haken had gotten out of the indictment proceedings forty-five minutes ago.

  I was fairly sure it didn’t take forty-five minutes to walk from the judicial chambers to the Belfry. I wondered what Haken had been doing before rejoining me.

  | | | | | | | | |

  Night was falling by the time we made it out onto the city streets. “You’re not on the witness list anymore, but you’re still on call,” Haken said. “When they make their decision there’s a good chance you’re going to be called up. Make sure you�
�re ready to move on short notice.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Maybe. They might move fast on this one.”

  I nodded. “Oh, one more thing,” Haken said. “You still have that focus you found at the station?”

  “Sure.”

  Haken held a hand out. “You’d better hand it in.”

  I took a green spherical focus out of my pocket and passed it over. “You’re going to drop it off at the station?”

  “Yeah. You might as well go home and get some rest. Don’t know when we’ll get the order to move.”

  “See you tomorrow.”

  I walked away down the road. The entrance to the War Rooms that we’d used was on a side street, and there wasn’t much traffic. Behind me, I could sense Haken taking out his phone to make a call. I turned the first corner, stopped, put my back up against the building, and waited.

  Watching through my future selves, I saw Haken talk on his phone for a few minutes. Eventually he hung up, gave a glance in the direction in which I’d disappeared, then turned and went back into the building that led down into the War Rooms.

  “That’s not the way back to the station, Haken,” I murmured. I waited for a few minutes more just in case he reappeared, then headed for Westminster.

  | | | | | | | | |

  I caught the Jubilee line and then the London Overground, alighting at Hampstead Heath. By the time I stepped off the train and walked into the Heath itself, it was night. The sky was overcast, thick clouds blocking out both starlight and moonlight, leaving the Heath pitch-black. A cold wind blew as I walked deeper into the park, whipping at my clothes and filling the night with the sound of rustling leaves. There was no way to see and hardly any way to hear. Most people avoid the Heath on nights like this, and for good reason.

  But I’m not most people, and a night like this suits me just fine. With my divination I can navigate in pitch-darkness as though it were broad daylight, and against the vast emptiness of the park, the few wandering people stood out like searchlights. As I strode through the night, the wind gusting through my hair, I felt my spirits rise. The War Rooms had been tense, claustrophobic. Out here, alone in the cold and the blackness, I felt at home.