I crossed the living room and slipped through, the planks of the landing cool under my feet. Through the banisters, I saw a flicker of movement: Meredith was below, in the hall, her head down, speaking into her phone. “…have much choice!” Her voice was pitched low and she sounded scared and angry. “You said they wouldn’t come after me!”
The other person replied, an inaudible buzz. Whatever they said, it didn’t make Meredith any happier. “Don’t give me that! Did you know this was going to happen?”
“…”
“No! This wasn’t the deal.”
“…”
“Don’t you dare.”
“…”
“What, be your bait?” Meredith gave a shaky laugh. “You wish.”
“…”
“No shit I’m angry! If I hadn’t come here I’d be dead right—”
“…”
“Oh, now it’s my fault?” Meredith paced up and down the hall, only barely keeping her voice down. “Screw you!”
“…”
“Go to hell. Why am I even talking to you?”
“…”
“Yeah well, I’m a lot safer here than with you.”
The voice on the other end started to answer again but Meredith cut it off halfway through. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.” She hung up and switched off the phone.
I withdrew silently back across the living room, pulled the door to behind me, and lay down on my bed. A minute later I heard footsteps on the stairs, followed by the sound of the door to the landing being softly shut. A moment later the sofa’s springs creaked and there was the rustle of blankets followed by a soft sigh.
I lay awake, listening, but nothing further came. It was a long time before I fell asleep.
chapter 3
I woke to the sun on my face. Rays were streaming through my bedroom window, lighting up the drab room in yellow and white. Outside the window I could hear the chatter and bustle of the city. The storm had passed and the sky was blue with white cloud.
From the living room and kitchen, I could hear the bustle of movement. Meredith was making breakfast. I rose quietly and slipped into my jeans and shoes, then moved out onto the landing. The smell of something frying drifted from under the door to the kitchen and I heard the clink of plates. I opened the door out onto the balcony and stepped outside, shivering slightly in the cold, and the sounds from the kitchen cut off as I shut the door behind me. I climbed the ladder set into the wall and stepped off onto the roof.
It was a beautiful morning. Puffy white clouds were scattered across a clear sky and the sounds of the city washed up all around me, carried upon fresh, cold air. Puddles of water were scattered on the flat roof, left over from last night’s storm, but the sun had been up long enough for most of the damp to dry. A breeze was blowing, cool and brisk, sending ripples racing across the water. Chimneys and TV aerials rose up all around, and a little farther away were road and rail bridges as well as the square shapes of blocks of flats. The morning sunlight was clear and crisp, outlining every brick and stone in sharp-edged shadow. It was London: dense, ancient, and my home.
I took out my phone and dialled Talisid’s number. In case you’re wondering why I was climbing onto the roof to make a phone call, it’s because I didn’t want to be overheard.
It’s a perfectly reasonable thing to do. Stop looking at me like that.
Talisid answered when I’d expected. “Morning, Verus.”
“How did things go on Friday?”
“Routine. As far as the Council’s concerned, the matter’s closed.”
“Did you figure out what killed the barghest?”
“No need. Now that it’s dead, no one has any reason to spend the time.”
“Is the body in storage?”
“Destroyed.”
“Oh.”
“Did you want it examined?”
“I’d been hoping it would be.” I couldn’t honestly say it was unexpected but it was a bit disappointing all the same.
“I could always give you the autopsy report.”
“…Wait, what?”
I heard Talisid chuckle. “Glad to see you’re not entirely immune to being surprised.”
“I thought you just said there wasn’t any need?”
“There wasn’t. I had the corpse analysed anyway.”
“Why?”
“Because you were curious.”
“And you thought you’d satisfy my curiosity?”
“No, I decided if you were curious, it was probably worth looking into. Consider it a compliment.”
I snorted. “All right, Sun Tzu. What did you find?”
There was the rustle of paper in the background. “Physically, the barghest was completely undamaged apart from minor bruises and lacerations. As far as nonmagical analysis can show, the creature was in perfect health.”
“Apart from being dead?”
“Apart from being dead. Magical scans also negative. Fatal life or death magic usually leaves distinctive evidence in the cellular structure, and the same goes for mind and charm magic in the brain. There was no evidence that living family magic had caused the creature’s death.”
I frowned. “So that means … what? It wasn’t killed by injury or by magic?”
“Not quite. There was no spell residue but there was something missing. The creature’s natural residual aura was only a fraction as strong as it should have been. Something drained the energy right out of the thing. The examiner thinks that was the cause of death, and I agree. Barghests are magical creatures. Take away their magic, no more barghest.”
“Huh.” I stood thinking. “That’s not a normal way to kill something, is it?”
“It’s not. What’s your interest in this?”
“Favour for a friend. Do you want me to copy you in if I find anything?”
“Please. Was there anything else?”
“Yeah. Know anything about a woman called Mere-dith?”
“Meredith … Dark, petite, late twenties to early thirties? Could cause a traffic accident walking down the street?”
“That’s the one.”
“Unaligned mage. Affiliated with several different Council mages over the years, but she’s always stayed independent. Probably got a few connections in the Dark camp as well, though nothing’s been proven. She dabbled in politics for a while and used to be a regular on the social circuit, but she got too close to that business with Dagon last year and had her fingers burnt rather badly. Haven’t seen her at the balls since then.”
I paced slowly up and down. “What type of mage?”
“Enchantress. Not too powerful but very skilled. Could twist men around her little finger.”
I stopped moving.
“Verus? You there?”
I was silent for a few seconds. “Yeah,” I said at last.
“Is there a problem?”
“No,” I said. “No problem. Any connections?”
“No master, no apprentices. Her name’s been linked with plenty of other mages, but the relationships never seem to last. They’re usually active in Council politics and always men. You can guess what the rumour mill has to say about that, but the truth is no one knows very much about her.”
I stood quietly on the roof. “Thanks for the help,” I said eventually.
“No problem. I take it you weren’t asking from academic interest.”
“No.”
Talisid sounded amused. “Well, consider yourself forewarned. You’ll have to tell me how it goes.”
“Assuming I’m around to tell you. I’ll be in touch about the barghest.”
“Good to hear. Until then.” Talisid hung up.
I lowered the phone and stared down at it. The cool wind blew over me, ruffling my hair and chilling my bare arms, and I shivered.
Enchantresses use charm magic, also known as emotion magic. Men who can use it are called enchanters, but they’re rarer and it’s always seen as one of the stereotypically female branches. They can’t affect thoughts and concepts in the way a mind mage can, but they’re masters of feeling and emotion. In terms of raw power they’re on the low end of the magical scale but they have one distinctive ability: their magic is incredibly hard to detect. It’s almost impossible to tell when an enchantress is using her magic and when she’s not. The whole distinction between magical and normal is much more fuzzy for enchantresses than it is for other mages; magic for them is as natural as talking and just as easy, and they’re sometimes not aware they’re using it at all.