“Have you been going through my records?”
“You don’t have any proper ones; I checked. Anyway, if you cared that much about it you’d keep regular hours.”
“I have regular hours.”
“Unless something comes up.”
“Stuff does keep coming up.”
“But you could hire an assistant,” Luna said. “If you really wanted to dump the work on someone else you could have done it by now.”
“Well, yeah.” For years I’ve had vague plans for getting someone to help run the place, but I’ve always put it off. For one thing there aren’t many people I’d trust with the job, but even if I could find someone I’m not sure I’d do it. The people in the magical community whom I feel closest to aren’t the established mages but the have-nots—apprentices, adepts, lesser talents, and all the other small-time practitioners out there—and those are the people that my shop lets me meet.
Luna finished brushing her hair and started tying it back in a ponytail. “So who are Anne and Vari seeing this time?”
“Her name’s Dr. Shirland,” I said. “Mind mage. She’s an independent.”
“If she’s a mind mage, how’s she going to teach Anne and Vari?”
“She’s not, but she might know someone who will. From what I’ve heard she’s supposed to be some kind of consultant. I’m hoping she can get Anne and Vari an interview with a life or fire mage who could teach them.”
“Oh, like that guy they met in the spring?”
I rolled my eyes. “Let’s hope it goes a bit better than that. Last thing we need is another . . .” A future ahead of us caught my attention and I stopped, concentrating.
Luna tilted her head. “What is it?”
“Someone’s coming,” I said. The pattern was different from a regular customer; as I focused on the future in which she walked through the door I saw the flicker of auras. “A mage.”
Luna had been sitting on the counter; now she hopped off, suddenly alert. “Trouble?”
“Don’t think so.” I was already looking for the flash and chaos of combat and couldn’t see it. “Get your focus just in case.”
Luna vanished. I walked forward and flipped the sign in the window from OPEN to CLOSED before returning to my desk to quickly check the weapons underneath. As Luna reappeared I stood behind the counter and waited. A few seconds later the bell rang and the door swung open.
I’d been watching the woman as she’d walked down the street, and by the time she stepped in I’d had the chance to take a good look at her. She was big and hefty-looking, with brown hair and a round, pleasant face, and she wore a wide-cut suit. “Hi,” she said, looking from Luna to me. “Verus, right?”
“That’s me,” I said. And you’re Keeper Caldera.
“Keeper Caldera. Good to meet you.” Caldera walked forward to shake my hand. “Mind if we have a word?”
Keepers are the enforcement arm of the Light Council, a mixture of soldiers, police, and internal investigators. Most mages are wary of them, and for good reason; if a Keeper wants to talk to you, it’s usually bad news. “Depends on the word.”
“You’re not under investigation,” Caldera said. “I’d just like to ask a few questions about something I’m working on.”
I hesitated. I wasn’t keen on talking to a Keeper, but if I brushed Caldera off she’d probably just come back again. “All right,” I said reluctantly. “Not here though.” I’m still wary about having other mages around my shop and I didn’t really want customers looking through the window and seeing us.
“Fine by me,” Caldera said. “Tell you what, there’s a really nice pub just around the corner. I’ll buy you a pint.”
“Uh . . .” Okay, that wasn’t standard Keeper procedure as far as I knew. “I guess that works. Let me close up and I’ll meet you outside.”
Caldera’s definition of “around the corner” turned out to be on the optimistic side, and it took us twenty minutes to make our way through the busy Camden streets. Luna kept pace with me, staying half a step behind to keep me out of the radius of her curse; Caldera hadn’t specifically invited her but I’d signalled for her to come, and apart from a glance Caldera hadn’t objected. I kept an eye out the whole way, scanning for danger; it wasn’t that Caldera had done anything particularly suspicious, but my past experiences with Keepers have generally been less than positive. Nothing pinged; if I was in danger, it wasn’t the immediate kind.
The pub Caldera had picked for us looked like it had been built some time around the Iron Age: an old, crooked building with irregular floors and low ceilings, filled with nooks and crannies. It obviously hadn’t been designed for tall people, and I had to duck as I followed Caldera down the stairs into the stone cellar. “Right,” Caldera said as she led us past the patrons and to a secluded corner. “What are you having?”
“Just a Coke, please,” Luna said.
“Seriously?”
“I don’t drink.”
“Fair enough. You?”
“Whatever they’ve got on tap,” I said.
Caldera winced. “Okay, look. I’ll get you something good.” She headed to the bar.
“Is she really a Keeper?” Luna asked once Caldera was gone.
“Oh yeah,” I said, looking around the drawings and photos on the grubby paint-on-brick walls. I’d already looked into the future in which I asked Caldera, and I’d seen her show me her Keeper’s signet with its distinctive magical fingerprint. “Though it’s the first time I’ve had one ask me out to the pub.”
“Here we go,” Caldera announced, returning with a drink in either hand. She set them down in front of us and dropped into a corner seat with a contented sigh.
I took a dubious look at the contents of the pint glass she’d pushed in front of me. “What is it?”
“Porter,” Caldera said. “Try it.”
I checked to make sure it wasn’t going to poison me or anything, then took a sip. I raised my eyebrows. “Huh.”
“Like it?”
“Tastes . . . interesting.” I took another drink. It had a fruity flavour, with an odd aftertaste.
“Pretty good, right?” Caldera said. “Notice how it turns into a roasted coffee flavour after the raisin start? Not many pubs in London sell this stuff. They only brew it in London, bottle-conditioned—have to pour it out carefully to leave the yeast sediment in the bottom.”
“Hm. I’ll have to try it again next time.”
“There we go. Done some good today.”
I gave Caldera an amused look. “Not that I’m questioning your expertise on beer, but wasn’t there something you wanted to ask?”
“Right.” Caldera glanced at Luna. “You’re okay with her sitting in on this, right?”
“Luna’s my apprentice,” I said. “You can tell her anything you’d tell me.”
Luna gave me a quick, warm look. “All right,” Caldera said, looking straight at me. “It’s to do with your old master, Richard Drakh.”
I felt my muscles tense. My past with Richard was the one thing I did not want to talk about with Luna, or anyone else for that matter. “What’s happened?”
“There are rumours going around,” Caldera said, watching me carefully. “That he’s coming back.”
The old half-healed, never-healed memories flashed through my mind, fear and helplessness and pain. I shut them out with an effort of will, keeping my voice steady. “There are always rumours.”
“It’s been ten years.”
“So?”
“So they didn’t start from nowhere, did they?” Caldera said. “The powers-that-be want to know what’s going on.”
“Because they don’t have any hard evidence?”
“Can’t say.”
Caldera’s poker face wasn’t bad, but I’m pretty good at reading people and I knew the answer to my question was yes. The Council didn’t have any proof that Richard was back—this was just a fishing expedition. A bit of the tension went out of my muscles. Luna watched the two of us from over her Coke, her eyes filled with curiosity. “You’re hoping I might know something,” I said. “Because I used to be Richard’s apprentice. Right?”