“And how well did that work in the casino?”
I scowled.
“Your life is changing, Alex,” Arachne said. “I know you’ve always preferred to rely on evasion but things are different now. More and more you’re going to find yourself facing dangers that you can’t run from or hide from.” She tapped the jacket again. “You’re going to have to take risks. This will help you survive them.”
Dubiously I lifted the material a few inches, feeling its texture. “Well, it’s light enough,” I admitted. “Is this going to do anything against a battle-mage?”
“A direct hit?” Arachne said. “No. But against area-of-effect spells or glancing blows it’ll keep you alive against something that would kill an unarmoured human.”
“Bullets?”
“Lower-powered ones should be manageable. For higher-power shots it depends on the angle of impact. The mesh will try to reshape itself to curve projectiles but there’s only so much it can do.”
“This is an imbued item, isn’t it?” I asked. Now that I was close I could sense the presence from the suit. It felt incomplete, as if it wasn’t fully grown yet, but there was definitely something there.
“Yes, and on that subject, do make sure not to wear this at the same time as your mist cloak,” Arachne said. “They both have a protective purpose, but they do so in very different ways and the variation in mindset will cause problems. Also, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but imbued items can be . . . possessive about their bearers.”
“It’s okay,” I said, suppressing a shiver. “I’m not going to be using my mist cloak for a while.” I could still remember the weird stretched feeling, and it frightened me. The scariest part was that I hadn’t even really noticed what was happening. If Arachne hadn’t made me take it off, I didn’t know where I would have ended up, and I absolutely did not want to look into the future to find out. “Thanks for doing this for me.”
“Don’t you remember what I told you last year?” Spiders can’t really smile, but I had the feeling that was what Arachne was doing. “After what happened with Belthas? You have my help whenever you want it, Alex.” She tilted her head. “You don’t ask for enough, you know.”
“Old habits,” I said, and yawned. “You know, I’m feeling better. I think I’ll go to bed.”
“Good night.”
Chapter 13
When I woke the next morning I felt alert and refreshed. Although a few parts of me ached, none of it was enough to slow me down, and I knew I was in good shape. I was as ready as I was going to be. It took me a minute to remember what I needed to be ready for, and once I did that killed my enthusiasm. I lay on the rocky floor with my eyes open, staring up at the ceiling.
There’s something weird about waking up the day of a battle. I knew that as soon as I left Arachne’s cave, I was going to walk into a confrontation that would end in blood. Death and violence were in my future . . . but as long as I stayed in bed or mooched around the tunnels, I’d be perfectly safe. I’ve run into this situation a few times as a diviner, and it’s always a bizarre feeling, violence and chaos alongside comfortable routine. It’s like having someone tell you that as soon as you step out of your front door he’s going to shoot you, but he’s not in any rush and he’d be happy to give you time to finish your breakfast and would it be more convenient if he came back tomorrow?
I couldn’t sense Arachne’s presence, and searching through the short-term futures I couldn’t find her in the tunnels. I found a different presence, though, something close, and I raised my head to see the armour Arachne had been making for me. It was finished, and it hung from the wall, waiting. I rose and walked to the suit, studying it.
When a mage takes up an imbued item for the first time, it’s a big thing. It’s not exactly an introduction, or an offer of partnership, or a challenge, although it’s got something in common with all of those. What it’s most like is a mutual test. The mage gets a sense of the item’s purpose, as well as its power and its sentience. In turn, the item sees the mage for who he truly is, maybe more clearly than any human could. If the item likes what it sees, it accepts you as its bearer, at least on a provisional basis. If it’s unimpressed, it’ll stay inert. If it really doesn’t like you . . . well, the less said about that the better.
I reached out and placed a hand on the black mesh of the chest armour, and as I did I felt the item’s presence strengthen. I could feel it, and I knew it could feel me, too. It was different from my mist cloak; the cloak was subtle, difficult to detect even if you were looking for it. This was forceful and active, and I could feel it probing at my mind. In reflex I shoved it back; I’ve had a few too many bad experiences with mental control over the last year or two. The presence receded but didn’t go away. There was a pause, as though both of us were waiting for the other to make the next move.
“I’m about to go into battle,” I said to the suit. “I don’t know how it’ll end, but I know how it’ll begin. I’m going to be outnumbered and probably outmatched as well.” I looked at the suit. “I don’t have any right to demand anything from you, but I’m asking for your help. If you decide to go with me it’ll be dangerous. Not just now, but in the future. Even if I survive this battle there’ll be others, and the odds aren’t likely to get better. I’m never really going to be safe . . . but it’s because I’m never going to be safe that I need the kind of defence you can give. I don’t know if there’s anything I could offer in return that you’d care about, but if there is, I will. Will you protect me?”
The suit rested silently on the wall, watching me.
Variam was sitting on one of the sofas in the central chamber. He looked up and did a double take. “What are you getting ready for, a war?”
“Something like that,” I said. The armour was lighter than I’d expected but it still felt strange. I’m not used to wearing anything with any real weight to it—most of my clothes are light and designed to let me move quickly—and in the new outfit my movements felt awkward. With each step I took, though, it got easier. I could feel the armour adapting itself to my movements, adjusting to my steps. Most of all, I could feel the item’s presence, like a passenger at the back of my mind. It takes time for an imbued item to decide whether to accept a bearer: throughout the battle to come, the suit would be watching me.
“I’ve never seen you carry a sword.”
“I don’t usually carry weapons, full stop.”
Variam looked at me curiously. “Why not?”
“Attitude, mostly,” I said. “If you carry a weapon it means that at some level you’re planning to use it. Leaving them behind reminds you that you’re supposed to be running first and fighting afterwards.”
Variam pointed at the sword at my belt. “So what’s with that?”
“Because right now I’m through with running,” I said. I nodded towards the entrance. “Ready?”
Variam rose and we began walking up the tunnel towards the surface. “Luna and Anne were asking about you,” Variam said.
“Are they okay?”
“It’s whether you’re okay that they’re worried about.”
I sighed. “Yeah. I guess I haven’t been doing that good a job of taking care of myself lately, have I?”
We left Arachne’s cave and sealed it behind us. It was midmorning and the sunlight was filtering down through a bank of grey-white cloud. The air was humid and a little oppressive but I could still hear the chatter and calls of people around us. “We clear?” Variam asked.
I scanned ahead. The futures of the nearby people on the park weren’t intersecting ours, at least not yet. “Clear.”
Variam got to work on his gate. It was messy and although he tried to hide it I could tell that having an audience was making him nervous. I waited patiently; nothing’s more annoying than having someone distracting you when you’re doing a difficult spell. On the third try the orange flame solidified into an oval of light and an image of trees and grass appeared through it. I stepped through quickly and Variam followed, letting it vanish behind him.