All of this flashed through my head in less than a second. ‘So you’re working for Undaaris now?’ I asked. I tried to make my voice pleasant. ‘Or is this a one-time thing?’
‘No, I’ve been acting as Undaaris’s secretary. Though it’s more like being his second, really. Scheduling and appointments and all that sort of stuff.’
‘To a Senior Councillor, huh? Going up in the world.’
Lyle laughed. ‘Well, I’ll go tell Undaaris you’ve arrived. If you could just wait here.’ He disappeared through the door, leaving me alone in the room. I wondered if that conversation had sounded as forced to him as it had to me.
Thinking about that made me remember the last member of the Light Council that Lyle had been working for, namely Levistus. Lyle had been the one to introduce me to Levistus, thus indirectly starting off the whole chain of events leading to the death sentence I was fighting right now. I wondered whether Lyle remembered it the same way.
Traditionally Council members like to keep applicants hanging around for a while, the better to emphasise how valuable their time is. I suspected that this would be an exception to the rule and that Undaaris would want me in and out as quickly as possible. I was right: Lyle reappeared in only a few minutes and ushered me out into a hallway, up a set of stairs and through a door. It led into a comfortable-looking study, and standing behind the desk, waiting to greet me, was Undaaris.
Undaaris was white-haired and slim. From my research I knew that he was over sixty, but he didn’t look it: he was straight-backed and handsome, and but for his hair could have passed for forty at the most. Life magic treatments; probably the only reason he hadn’t had his hair recoloured too had been to make an impression. He was a water mage, though, like most Council politicians, there were rumours that he had some mind abilities as well. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen Undaaris, but it was the first time I’d been up close.
‘Ah, Mage Verus!’ Undaaris came bustling around the desk to shake my hand. ‘Glad you could make it.’
‘Councillor,’ I said. I’m not very good at acting respectful, but I did my best. ‘Thank you for agreeing to see me.’
‘Not at all, not at all. Can I offer you something to drink? Tea, coffee?’
‘I appreciate the offer, but I’m a little preoccupied at the moment.’
‘Of course, of course.’ Undaaris glanced at Lyle, who murmured something and disappeared out the door, closing it behind him and leaving the two of us alone.
The last time I’d been alone in a room with a Council member it hadn’t gone well. I fought off the impulse to check Undaaris’s defences by looking into the futures in which I attacked him – I needed to focus. ‘Well then,’ Undaaris said. He sat down behind his desk. ‘I understand there was something you wanted to discuss?’
‘Yes.’ I sat in one of the armchairs. ‘It’s to do with last Saturday’s resolution.’
‘Yes, well,’ Undaaris said. ‘You do understand that any information pertaining to closed Council meetings is strictly confidential.’
‘I’m aware of that,’ I said. ‘However, given the subject of this particular resolution, it doesn’t seem like a very good idea for me to wait until it’s made official.’
‘It’s still a little irregular…’
I looked at Undaaris with raised eyebrows.
Undaaris coughed. ‘But given the circumstances, I suppose it’s understandable.’
‘I’m under a death sentence.’ I kept my voice level. ‘Regularity isn’t my foremost concern.’
Undaaris looked uncomfortable. ‘I can’t confirm or deny anything along those lines.’
‘And I assume you can’t confirm or deny that the current state of the votes is three to two, either.’
‘I thought it was three to one?’
‘Druss.’
‘Oh, yes. He would, wouldn’t he?’
I waited.
‘Well, in that case – hypothetically – you should only need one more vote, yes?’ Undaaris said. ‘Have you considered Spire? He’s rather sympathetic to independent mages such as yourself.’
‘Spire’s abstaining.’
‘And you know that for sure?’ I didn’t answer and Undaaris sighed. ‘You seem better informed than I am. These leaks are becoming quite troublesome. I know they’re the way we do business, but it would be nice if closed meetings could actually stay secret.’
So I could be sentenced without knowing anything about it? ‘So, aside from Spire, the only one yet to vote is you.’
‘Ah.’ Undaaris looked uncomfortable again. ‘Yes.’
‘Can you help me?’ I asked.
‘I’d very much like to, of course…’
‘I’m not coming to you lightly,’ I said. ‘There isn’t anyone else left.’
Undaaris sighed. ‘I wish Levistus hadn’t done this. I’d known he had his issues but that resolution came as a complete surprise. And the timing…’
‘I don’t think the timing was an accident.’
‘No, perhaps not.’ Undaaris looked straight at me and clasped his hands on the desk. ‘This is placing me in a very difficult position.’
I tried to look understanding.
‘Levistus and Alma have been pressuring me over the Birkstead position. And Drakh’s name has been coming up over and over again in the last few months. It’s become a very sensitive issue. If I vote against this, then when it comes out, it’s going to be spun as being soft on Dark mages again.’
I had to bite back my response. I’m so sorry my imminent death is making things inconvenient for you. Instead I took a measured breath, then spoke once I was calm. ‘Voting against it could also be seen as a more measured response. Avoiding escalation.’
‘There is that.’ Undaaris sighed and tapped his fingers on the desk, then looked up. ‘Perhaps there might be a solution.’
Undaaris was acting as though he’d had a new idea. I didn’t believe it – the futures hadn’t changed. He’d had this in mind since the beginning. ‘What did you have in mind?’
‘The Keepers are planning an operation,’ Undaaris said. ‘I don’t know the exact details – operational security is quite tight – but from what I’ve heard, it involves your old master in some way. I imagine they’d be very grateful for your assistance.’
‘Assuming they trusted me enough to let me come.’
‘Well, you’re a Keeper auxiliary, aren’t you?’
‘True. How would this benefit you?’
‘Well, it would be a show of good faith, wouldn’t it? If you took part and the operation was a success, then they could hardly keep maintaining that you were a danger to the Council. You’d have shown that you’d left your old master entirely behind.’
‘I’d like to think I’ve done that already, but I take your point. And I assume you’d like me to make it known that you’re the reason I’m joining?’
‘Well, yes, that would help.’
‘And in exchange, you’d feel yourself able to vote against Levistus?’
‘It’s not quite as simple as that.’
‘It’s pretty simple to me.’ I was managing to keep my voice calm, but it was difficult. ‘There’s not much point me helping the Keepers if I get executed at the end of the week. I agree to take on this job, and in exchange, you vote against the proposal. Deal?’
‘If the mission is a success,’ Undaaris said. ‘If it turns out to be a failure, then, well…’
‘Then they’ll assume that it’s because I betrayed them,’ I said. Lovely. Well, it’s not as though they can execute me twice. ‘Fine. Then if the mission’s a success, you’ll vote against the proposal.’