“What’s the plan for getting past the guards?” Sonder asked eventually.
I sighed. “We kill however many it takes before the rest run. Somewhere between most of them and all of them.”
Sonder stared at me. “But …”
I didn’t answer. “They’re Council security,” Sonder said. “Okay, I guess some of them are with Belthas, but … they’re loyal to the Council. They’re just doing their jobs.”
“Do you know any spells that’ll knock out ten to fifteen armed men?” I said. “Or any way of getting them to surrender and let us through?”
“No, but-”
“Neither do I,” I said. “And neither does Cinder. If I was an enchanter or a mind mage I could cloud their senses. If I could use life or death magic I could disrupt their bodies and knock them out. But I’m not and I can’t. The only thing I’ve got that can drop them fast enough to be safe is this gun. If we screw around taking prisoners we’re going to get shot.” I paused. “Actually, there’s a pretty good chance we’re going to get shot anyway.”
“There’s got to be something else,” Sonder argued. “I don’t want anyone to get killed.”
Cinder made a disgusted noise. I didn’t look at him. “Belthas is down there,” I told Sonder. “Along with at least a dozen armed guards in a warded building, and that’s not counting Meredith and Martin and whatever else he’s got up his sleeve.”
“I know,” Sonder said. “That doesn’t mean we should try to kill them!”
“The point is,” I said quietly, “that the odds are against us. Really against us. Even if we don’t make any mistakes, there’s a good chance that anyone who goes into that manor is going to end up dead. The more restrictions we go under, the bigger that chance gets. When you’re playing odds this long, the only way to win is to use every edge you’ve got.”
I could feel Cinder’s eyes on me. Sonder looked desperately unhappy. I couldn’t really blame him; I knew it felt to him like an impossible situation. But the truth is, it’s not about what’s possible. It’s what you’re willing to live with.
But I might as well cut him a break. “Anyway, it’s not up to you,” I said. “We’re going down there, and when we do there’s going to be a fight no matter what.” I sat down on one of the rocks. “Take a look around but make sure you’re not seen.”
Sonder and Cinder moved away and I was left alone in the darkness, which suited me just fine. I scanned through the futures in which I went down there, skipping over the parts where the strands branched into a blur of combat. I didn’t try to see how it would go-fights are too chaotic to see more than a few seconds ahead. Instead I searched for openings, doors, alarms, building a mental map of the manor below.
While my mind looked through the futures, my hands moved over the weapon at my side. Most of Belthas’s men had been carrying submachine guns of a type I vaguely recognised as MP5s. Garrick had been carrying a model I hadn’t seen before, square and blocky with only the tip of the muzzle protruding from the gun, and it was this one I’d taken. It was less than a foot and a half long, made of some black polymer which was surprisingly light, with a retractable stock and laser sight. The bottom of the magazine stuck out from the handle. It held thirty rounds and I had three more full magazines stowed away. One of the men had been carrying a 1911 pistol like mine, with the addition of a silencer, and I’d taken that too. I’d also brought a handful of more dangerous things in my backpack, riding awkwardly under my cloak.
I’ve never been all that comfortable with guns. Partly it’s for practical reasons-they’re illegal, for a start, and they don’t usually get good reactions from mages-but it’s also that I just don’t like the things. Carrying a gun makes me uneasy in a way that carrying a knife doesn’t, and if I’m going out I’ll almost never take one. But I’ve used them before, and even if I’m not as good a shot as I am with throwing, I can hit a target pretty well. When you can’t use offensive magic, guns are a big equaliser, and sometimes you can’t afford to be fussy.
I sensed Cinder returning well in advance. Sonder was still back up the slope, struggling with his conscience. I waited for Cinder to get close before glancing up. He was looking down at me, arms folded. “Ice wards.”
I nodded.
“Plan?”
“I sneak inside,” I said. “I’ll try for Deleo and Luna, get as far as I can. When the shooting starts, I’ll open up a way in and you do what you do best. We go for the girls first, Belthas second.”
Cinder nodded. We both knew he’d follow my orders only as long as they suited him. I took a breath. “One more thing. If I don’t make it out, make sure Sonder and Luna get away safe. I’ll do the same for Deleo if anything happens to you.”
Cinder looked at me. Standing in the darkness, it was hard to make out his expression. An icy wind was blowing, but Cinder let it sweep over him as though he didn’t notice. Probably he didn’t.
“Why?” Cinder said.
“Why what?”
“Help them.”
“Who?”
Cinder just looked at me, as if refusing to answer such a stupid question. “Because I want to,” I said.
Cinder studied me for a moment, then nodded in the direction Sonder had gone. “You’re not one of them.”
I was silent. “Talk, don’t fight,” Cinder said. “Don’t get your hands dirty. How they think. You don’t.”
“I’m not exactly the fighting type.”
“Bullshit,” Cinder said. “You act it. Fool some people. Fooled me once. You’re a predator. You just hide it.”
I raised an eyebrow at Cinder. “Pretty weak for a predator.”
“Yeah?” Cinder said. “Last ten years. How many people tried to kill you? Don’t mean a skirmish. A proper try.”
I shrugged. “Haven’t kept count.”
Cinder nodded. “How many still alive?”
The question brought me up short. A few people had tried to kill me over the years. Actually, more than a few. Cinder and Rachel didn’t really count-they’d always been more interested in getting their piece-but Khazad did. So did Tobruk. Levistus had ordered my death through Griff and Thirteen, and Morden had done the same through Onyx. Then Garrick had tried to shoot me a few days ago, and there had been that bomb-maker at the Deptford factory. There were more-a lot more. As for how many were still alive, the answer was …
…not that many.
Most of them were dead.
In fact, most of them were dead quite specifically because of me.
I don’t often look back over my life. Between paying attention to the present and looking forwards into the future, I don’t have much time left to look over my past choices. Now I did and realised what picture they made, and it wasn’t all that reassuring.
And I was about to add a whole bunch of new names to the list. If everything went to plan, a lot of people down there were going to die. And as I thought it over, I realised I was going to go through with it. At the end of the day, given a choice between Belthas and his men on one side, and Luna and Arachne on the other, I was going to pick Luna and Arachne, and if it meant Belthas and his men dead then that was what I’d do. I knew exactly how ugly and vicious the battle was going to be and I was going to do it anyway.
I didn’t know what that said about me. Maybe later, I’d think about it. Right now all I cared about was getting the job done. “What do you want, Cinder?” I said. “You want me to back out?”
Cinder shook his head.
“Then what?”
“Del hates you,” Cinder said. “Thinks you’re weak. I reckon she’s wrong. You’re ruthless as her. Just hide it better.”
“Thanks. I think.”
“I’ll save your pets if you go down,” Cinder said. “But I don’t reckon you will. I think end of tonight, you’ll be around. And Belthas won’t.”
I looked back at Cinder, trying to figure out if that should make me feel better.
A sound from behind made me look up in time to see Sonder returning. He was shivering. He really should have taken me up when I offered to lend him a coat. “Belthas started his ritual.”