“Here.” I pushed the keys through the open hatch, hearing them clink on the concrete, and stepped away. “Be right back.”
Martin was about forty feet down the side corridor when I leant round the corner, my gun lining up to sight on him. “Martin,” I said. “Give me a reason not to shoot you.”
Martin was wearing a set of black combat gear, probably borrowed from Belthas’s men, along with a webbing belt that was slightly too big for him. He looked like an action movie actor trying very hard to pretend he was the real thing. He flinched as he saw the barrel of the gun, then shook it off and grinned. “Oh, hey, Alex. Thought it was you.”
The laser sight was steady on the black fabric covering Martin’s chest and my trigger finger itched. “I’ve just killed a half dozen people whom I had less reason to want dead than you,” I said quietly. “You’ve got a gun behind your back. Drop it.”
Martin’s grin widened and he lifted the gun. I fired before he got halfway.
Tendrils of shadow whipped out, thread-thin, and there was the crack of ricocheting bullets. Martin’s gun finished coming up and I fired another burst. Still nothing. I emptied the rest of the magazine into him. Black shadows flickered and I saw sparks flash but Martin stayed standing until my gun clicked empty. I stared at Martin. No wounds, no blood. What the hell?
“My turn,” Martin said and fired.
Martin was firing an automatic, a fairly powerful one from the sound. Luckily his aim sucked and none of his shots would have hit even if I hadn’t ducked behind the corner. I ejected the empty magazine, pulled out a spare, and snapped it into the handle as Martin’s shots bounced uselessly round the corridor. While my hands worked automatically, I tried to figure out what was going on. Martin didn’t have any magic of his own so how could-
Oh, God damn it.
The bang bang bang of fire from around the corner ended, and as the echoes died away I heard Martin laughing. “Figured it out yet?” he called. “You can’t touch me!”
“What is wrong with you?” I shouted. “Could you be any more annoying?”
“You have no idea what this thing can do, do you?” Martin’s voice was mocking. “Come on, take a look.”
I glanced carefully around the corner. Martin was holding the gun in his right hand and in his left was the monkey’s paw. “Second wish,” he said, grinning at me. “First one gave me protection from magic. Now I’m protected from everything else.” He shook his head at me. “Seriously, man. You had this thing all this time and never used it? How stupid are you?”
I ran through the futures of me emptying a hundred shots at him a hundred different ways. Useless. I didn’t know how the monkey’s paw was protecting Martin but I couldn’t see a way through, and I felt a chill. Drawing away magical attacks was one thing, but bullets? Was there any limit to what that thing could do?
But if bullets didn’t work, maybe getting in close would. I crouched, ready to spring. Martin could only have a few more bullets in that gun. As soon as he stopped to reload …
“Two wishes,” Martin said. His grin had gotten wider and there was something manic about it. “Time for number three. I’ve been waiting for this a long time.”
“Let me guess,” I said. “You’re wishing for your IQ to break double figures.”
Martin laughed wildly. “You think I’m a joke, don’t you? They all did! You, Belthas, everyone! Because I’m not a mage. Well, now I will be! But you won’t!”
“I-” And too late, I saw what Martin was going to do. My eyes went wide. “Oh, crap. No, you nutcase! Don’t-”
Martin lifted the monkey’s paw above his head. “I wish for all the powers of the mage Alex Verus to be mine!”
I’d been spreading out my magic, trying to watch all the possibilities. I’d been focusing on Martin, looking to see what he’d do next, looking into the futures of different ways I could attack him and the consequences of each, and finally keeping an eye on potential dangers at the back of my mind with my precognition, all at the same time. As Martin said the last word, I felt a surge of power from the monkey’s paw and just that fast, it was gone. The lines of glowing light in the darkness vanished into nothingness and the only sight I had was my eyes. For the first time in ten years, I couldn’t see the future. The shock was so great I couldn’t move. I stood frozen, staring.
Martin stood with the monkey’s paw held high. The corridor was silent but for the distant sounds of battle from above. Martin was gazing past me, that manic grin frozen on his face. As I watched, the grin slid away until he was just staring. His brow furrowed in confusion, his expression changing slowly into a mask of horror. His eyes went wider and wider until they bulged out, turning his good looks into something twisted. His gaze swept over me blindly as he looked around and began shaking his head, slowly at first, then more violently. “No,” he muttered. He covered his eyes, staggering sideways into the wall. “No, stop it. No, no. Stop it. Stop it! STOP IT! STOP IT!”
“Alex!” Luna called from behind. I could hear the rattle of keys.
I didn’t answer. There’s no way to understand what it’s like to see the future, know it, rely on it, then have it snatched away. It’s not like being blind-it’s like being deaf. You can still see, still watch things as they happen-but you don’t have the context anymore, the extra information that makes it mean something. Someone talks to you and you don’t know what they’re saying; something could be happening behind you and you wouldn’t know what. So much of my life goes into controlling this talent I have, focusing and using and directing it. Now it was gone, an emptiness where there’d been a whole world.
Martin had started screaming, wordless and breathless. He was stumbling blindly back and forth, bashing into the walls; his fingers dug into his forehead as if he were trying to claw his eyes out. I knew I should do something but I couldn’t think. Looking into the future was such a reflex that I couldn’t stop doing it, even though there was nothing to see. Luna was calling to me but I couldn’t hear her over Martin’s screams. There were too many things at once and without my magic I couldn’t keep track anymore.
The scrape of metal reached my ears over Martin’s screaming, and I looked up. The door I’d left ajar back at the entrance to the basement was open, and one of Belthas’s guards was standing there, one I’d seen before. He had a submachine gun pointed down at the floor, and he was wearing a red baseball cap. He saw me and the gun came up.
Reflex and survival instinct got me moving when my conscious mind couldn’t. I dived past Luna’s cell and around the corner as bullets raked the wall beside me. I heard the chatter of fire for another second, then the sound of running feet and silence.
I snatched a glance around the corner, trying to spot where the guard had gone. Nothing. Without my magic I felt slow, stupid. Had he gone left or right? I lifted my gun and aimed awkwardly, leaning out into the corridor.
The guard popped out on the side I wasn’t expecting and I threw myself back into cover as another burst of fire struck chips from the wall. My movements were scared, jerky; I was outclassed and I knew it. The fire stopped and I leant out to shoot back.
It was a trap. The guard was waiting with his sights trained on where I’d appear. If I’d been able to see into the future I would have seen it coming … but I couldn’t and I didn’t. Another burst of fire raked the corner and this time I wasn’t quick enough. Pain seared my left arm and I fell back with a cry.
The fire stopped. My left arm was numb, in agony, and couldn’t support my gun. I staggered back along the corridor, looking for cover. I could hear the tread of cautious footsteps; the guard knew he’d hit me and was coming to finish me off. I wrenched at the handle of the first door. Locked. The footsteps broke into a jog. Next door … locked as well. I ran for the end of the corridor.