I stared at Morden, and he patted me on the shoulder with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll do an excellent job.” He walked away into the crowd.
| | | | | | | | |
I hung around the War Rooms for a little longer, waiting for Anne, but after a while I got a message from her saying that she’d be staying late. She didn’t sound happy, but at least she wasn’t in danger. In the meantime, I’d received another message, a slip of paper hand-delivered by a young man who disappeared before I could ask for details. I found a quiet place to read the contents.
From where you first met the Silent, take the way that runs north of west, straight as an arrow. After five minutes, a turnoff will descend on the left. I’ll be waiting at six o’clock at the water’s edge.
—The one who gave you your communicator
I sighed. There was no signature, but I knew who’d sent it.
| | | | | | | | |
The work at Pudding Mill Lane had made some progress since the last time I was there, but the place was still fenced in by construction barriers. Up to the left, the station was a wide, low-slung box over the raised train tracks of the Docklands Light Railway, the lights of the platform visible in the darkness. I glanced up at it as I walked, remembering that encounter with Chamois the Silent. If the Dark mage’s air blade had been a few inches closer I never would have left that station, but I didn’t really hold a grudge towards the guy. I’d much rather deal with assassins than the Light Council. At least with assassins you know where you stand.
The road led me under the railway tracks and up to the Greenway, a long foot and cycle path that runs in a perfectly straight line across the Olympic Park. To the right, the stadium was a vast shadow in the darkness. A cyclist came up behind me, the whirr of the bike breaking the quiet as he buzzed past, a feeble red light blinking on-off-on-off as it faded into the gloom. I kept walking until I found a footpath descending to the left.
The footpath led down to the River Lea, a long stretch of dark water with concrete banks. Barges were moored on either side, silent and still, and to the right and left was a towpath, lined with grass. There were no lampposts, and the only light came from the buildings across the river, yellow-white reflections off rippling water. A man was standing in the shadow of the fence.
“Were you followed?” the man said as I approached.
“Were the cryptic clues really necessary?”
“Better not to take avoidable risks.”
I looked around at the empty riverbank. It was cold, lonely, and deserted. “I remember when you used to take me out to dinner in Holborn.”
“Times have changed.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I suppose they have.”
I couldn’t really see Talisid in the shadows, but then I didn’t need to. He always looks the same: middle-aged, receding hair, composed expression. “How are things?” he asked.
“They suck,” I said. “But I’m sure you know that already, and I’m also sure you didn’t call me out to a riverbank in the middle of nowhere for a social catch-up.”
“No, I didn’t,” Talisid said. “I imagine you have some idea of why I did call you.”
“I’ve a pretty good notion.”
Talisid works for the Guardians. The Guardians and the Crusaders are the two main anti-Dark political groups within the Council, and the Guardians are the more pleasant of the two by a fair bit. I’ve done quite a few jobs for Talisid over the years, and for the most part, they’ve gone well. Unfortunately, there was one big problem. Ever since Richard’s return, Talisid had been trying to get me to rejoin Richard and spy on him.
The “rejoin” part had just happened. I knew what was coming next.
I started walking south along the towpath, and Talisid matched my pace. “I understand that your current situation is less than ideal,” he offered when I didn’t speak.
“That’s something of an understatement.”
“We’d be willing to offer compensation.”
“Do you know what Richard would do if he found out that I was spying on him?”
“No.”
“Nothing,” I said. “Not personally. He’d give me to Morden instead. Or if he was feeling really sadistic, to Vihaela. Do you know what they would do?”
Talisid shook his head.
“Take a guess.”
“I imagine you believe they would kill you.”
“Killing me is the least of what they would do,” I said. “And by the time they were done, there’s a good chance I’d be wanting them to. What could you possibly offer that could be worth that?”
“If you do what they say, will the end result really be so much better?”
Barges passed by on our right, riding low in the water. On the other side of the river, a halogen lamp made a bright splash of light against a building. A man was silhouetted in it, chopping wood, his shape throwing a monstrous shadow on the brick wall. Each time the shadow swung down, the tchunk of the axe echoed across the water.
“I understand how large a request I’m making,” Talisid said. “I’m willing to do whatever I can.”
“Okay,” I said. “There is one thing you can help me out with.”
“Go ahead.”
“Get that death sentence lifted.”
Talisid was silent for a few seconds. “That will be difficult.”
“How difficult?”
“Unfortunately, Morden appointing you as his liaison has convinced many Light mages that you and he are working together.”
“Yeah, I noticed. Why is this relevant?”
“Tensions between Light and Dark mages are high,” Talisid said. “Many Light mages believe that we are in the lead-up to another war. Convincing them to expend political capital on someone they see as a Dark mage will be . . . problematic.”
We walked for a little way in silence. “Is that the only reason?” I said.
“How do you mean?”
“It seems to me that the main reason you’re approaching me again is that Richard and Morden have forced me to work for them,” I said. “If I’m not working for Richard—and as Morden’s aide—then I’m a lot less valuable as an agent. So I have to wonder: exactly how invested are your bosses in breaking me free?”
“I can see how it would appear that way.”
“Are you going to tell me it’s not true?”
“Look at it another way,” Talisid said. “You’ve told me in the past that your biggest reason for refusing to take the job was that you did not want to be in proximity to Richard. As things stand, you’re forced to do that whether you want to or not. Doesn’t it make sense to get some kind of benefit?”
We’d passed under another bridge and had come to an empty stretch of water. There were no more barges, and up ahead I could see the orange glow and rushing traffic of a big A-road. “The answer’s a maybe,” I said. “I’m not turning you down. But I’m not putting myself at risk and I’m not working for free. If you want any intel, it’ll be favour for favour.”
Talisid nodded as though it was what he’d expected. “Here.” He handed me a small item. It looked like a disc, grey-black in the darkness.
I took it and could feel the latent magic inside. Very little stored energy, but a strong resonance. A focus item, then. “New communicator?”
“You should find it an upgrade from the old model,” Talisid said. “Synchronous, as before, but much better range than the Keeper issue.”
I turned it over in one hand. “Doesn’t seem to have a visual display.”