“We’re almost sure it was Crystal,” I said. “She’s still on the most-wanted list.”
“Every Dark mage linked to Richard Drakh is on the most-wanted list,” Sonder said. “You know how many of these requests I’m getting?”
You have the time to show up to inquiries, I wanted to say, but knew it was unfair. Sonder’s a rising star in the Council, but he’s not at the top yet. If they tell him to jump, he jumps. “Thanks for today.”
“For what?”
“The report you gave.”
Sonder shrugged. “I was just telling the truth.”
“That’s not always the most common commodity in this business.”
“I suppose,” Sonder said. “I’m guessing there’s something you wanted to talk about.”
I wanted to sigh. First Caldera, now Sonder. “Actually, I wanted to ask your advice.”
“Uh . . . okay.”
I started walking along the corridor, and after a moment’s pause, Sonder matched me. “Remember six years back, with that business in Fountain Reach?” I said. “You dug up some information on Jagadev. Specifically, his history with Variam and Anne.”
Sonder looked startled. “Oh. I did, didn’t I?”
“Have you told anyone else?”
Sonder shook his head. “To be honest, I’d forgotten about it.”
“I haven’t,” I said. “Do you think we should change that? Specifically, telling them?”
“Why?”
“It does kind of concern them.”
“Well, yes,” Sonder said. “I meant, why now?”
“I suppose I’m starting to feel as though the reasons to keep it a secret don’t really apply anymore.”
“I guess.”
“You sound doubtful.”
“Is this really the best time?” Sonder asked. “With the war on?”
“No,” I said. “But I’m not sure there ever will be a good time.” Sonder still didn’t seem convinced and I gave him a quizzical look. “Back then, you didn’t like the idea of keeping it a secret at all. You said that it was the truth and they ought to know.”
“I did?”
I nodded.
“Wow,” Sonder said. “I guess it really was a long time.”
“So you’d rather keep it quiet?”
“I don’t know,” Sonder said. “Is there really any point digging it up?”
“Let sleeping dogs lie?”
“More or less,” Sonder said. We’d made a circuit around the corridors, all the way back to where we’d started. He pulled out his phone and glanced at it. “I’ve got to go. I’m late for a meeting.”
“Okay.”
Sonder walked out, leaving me alone in the conservatory, and I watched him go. I thought about Sonder as I’d known him back then, earnest and apprehensive. He’d come across as naive, but he’d also been the kind to value honesty above everything else. I was pretty sure that if I’d asked him the same question back then, he’d have told me to tell the truth. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who’d changed.
There was another bit of information too. When Sonder had taken out his phone, I’d looked into the futures in which I’d snatched it out of his hands. Diviners have a lot of ways of spying on people; it’s something I avoid doing with my friends, but as I said, Sonder and I aren’t really friends anymore. The message hadn’t been about a meeting: it had been a request for scheduling a follow-up scan on San Vittore. Which meant this wasn’t over.
I sighed and turned to leave. Fighting summoned jinn was easier than this.
chapter 4
My talk with Sonder had left me wary, and I spent the next week putting out feelers, looking for signs of trouble. But for once, I didn’t find it. Rain told me that they’d dropped the case, and my other contacts confirmed that the Order of the Star was no longer investigating me or Anne. Sal Sarque still hated me, and Levistus still hated me, but the very next day after the inquiry, reports came in of Richard recruiting and training adepts in an organised force, and the Council met to discuss their response, and all of a sudden no one was talking about what had happened in San Vittore.
It was a weekday evening in Arachne’s lair, and Arachne and I were alone. Once upon a time it would have been common for all four of us to meet here, but now Variam was busy with his duties as a Keeper, and Luna spent mornings and afternoons at the shop. Anne still came from time to time, but most often, these days, when I saw Arachne, it would be just the two of us, me on one of her sofas and her crouched over a table working over some dress or other article of clothing. It reminded me of the old days, when Arachne was my only real friend.
“. . . so they haven’t made any progress towards locating Richard’s base, or this adept training camp either,” I was saying. “The war seems to be in another of its lulls.”
“Hmm,” Arachne said. “From past experience those tend to end quite abruptly.”
“It’s figuring out when that’s the hard part.”
Arachne is a giant spider, large enough to tower over any human, with eight long legs, eight eyes of varying sizes, and thick black hair highlighted in cobalt blue. She looks absolutely terrifying, and most people would expect her lair to be a dark cave with webs holding the decaying bodies of her victims. They’re right about the cave part, but the fact that it’s brightly lit, furnished as a very comfortable living room, and covered in drapes, tapestries, silks, bolts of cloth, and clothing makes it a bit less intimidating. Even so, one look at Arachne would still be enough to make most people run screaming.
Arachne made a tsking sound. “You know, I’ve been working on this style for so many years and I still can’t get it right. It’s such a simple thing but for some reason it’s never quite satisfactory. I really thought I’d get the hang of it someday.”
I looked curiously at Arachne. It was an odd thing for her to say, as much for the reference to her age as anything else. Arachne is very old—if I had to guess, I’d put her at two thousand years plus—but she doesn’t talk about her past.
Which isn’t to say that I haven’t wondered. I’m pretty sure that Arachne’s history is tied together with the dragon that lives in the tunnels deep below. Arachne referred to it as a “creator” once, which would explain a lot—I’ve met plenty of magical creatures in my life, but I’ve never heard of any other giant intelligent spiders with miscellaneous magical powers, which does raise the question of where Arachne came from. Arachne keeps her mouth shut on the subject, so wondering is as far as I’ve got.
“Oh, one bit of news,” I said. “Anne’s been checking on Karyos, and she says she seems to be regenerating just fine. In fact, it looks like she’s going to be coming out of her cocoon sooner than we expected.”
“That’s excellent.” Spiders can’t smile, but it was obvious from the warmth in Arachne’s voice that she was happy. “Do you have a date?”
“Two weeks to two months. The closer it gets, the more accurately she’ll be able to pin it down. You want to be there for when she comes out?”
“I’d love to.”
Karyos is a hamadryad, a magical creature bonded to a tree. When the tree grows too old, hamadryads undergo a ritual to rebond themselves to a new sapling, disappearing into a cocoon and reemerging sometime later. Unfortunately, in Karyos’s case, there had been complications. Long story short, by the time we met her she’d been insane and trying to kill us, and she hadn’t gone into her cocoon voluntarily. We still weren’t entirely sure whether the “insane and homicidal” part was going to carry over when she woke up.
“On that note, there’s a favour I’d like to ask,” Arachne said. “When Karyos is reborn, could you look after her?”
I looked at Arachne in surprise. “Me?”
“Would it be possible?”