Most people’s idea of seeing into the future is someone in funny clothes staring into a crystal ball and reading tea leaves. They’d be pretty disappointed if they saw me. I’m not a fan of crystal balls, and I absolutely hate the tea leaf method. Tarot cards I do use, but only in very specific situations and not often. No, what real diviners do when they want to get some work done is find a quiet, secluded spot, get comfortable, then lie back and close their eyes. To the layman, this looks remarkably like slacking off, but the best diviners can find out pretty much anything you care to name without ever leaving their armchair.
Arachne’s suggestion to find out more had clicked with a stray memory from my conversation yesterday with Lyle. When I’d asked Lyle about the other diviners, he’d told me they were all busy, and mentioned Alaundo and Helikaon. Alaundo I only know by reputation, but Helikaon I knew very well indeed. And something Lyle had said didn’t fit. I’d never known Helikaon to turn down work from the Council. Why was he doing it now?
It wasn’t much, but I had the feeling it might be import ant. I wanted to talk to Helikaon, and I didn’t have time to waste looking him up. I was going to have to do this the quick way.
The technique is called path-walking. You pick out a strand of your own future, and follow it, guiding the choices and seeing what happens. My first destination was Helikaon’s flat in Kensington. I looked into the future, tracing out the path where I went searching for him, taking a taxi to his flat, walking up the stairs, knocking at his front door. No matter how I did it, there was no response. The place was empty. As I watched, the future thinned and faded to nothingness, never to exist.
Next up was Helikaon’s house in the country, where he conducts most of his business. Helikaon’s house is a modest one by mage standards, a single-storey building on the South Downs. I looked into the future and saw myself walking up the dirt path to the house at the top of the hill. The building was silent and still, the windows shuttered. There was a note of some kind on the door, something that would turn me away. The vision flickered as I circled the house, searching, finding nothing.
I could always break in. I looked into the future that had me bypassing the lock on the front door, walking inside. My future self stepped in, and-
Ouch. Okay, that I did not expect. Now I knew something was going on. Helikaon didn’t normally leave booby traps in his front hall, especially not ones as nasty as that. Maybe the back door? Around the ash trees, round to the small door on the other side, onto the porch, inside-
Jesus! That was just vicious. I didn’t know it was even possible for a body to dissolve so fast. What the hell had that been, some kind of acid?
I definitely wasn’t snooping around Helikaon’s property any time soon. As I made that resolution, the future of me going there faded completely. Shaken, I took a moment to steady myself. Watching yourself die is a creepy experience, especially if you’re not prepared for it.
Once I’d calmed down, I forced myself to try again. I was running out of places to look, but there was one more spot that Helikaon and I had used a long time ago. Not many knew about it. But if he’d wanted a place where no one could find him …
And there it was. I couldn’t tell at this distance what we were saying, but I knew Helikaon was there. I opened my eyes and sat up. I needed something from my flat, then I had a journey to make.
The fastest way to travel by magic is by gating. Gate magic creates a portal between two places, usually by bringing about a similarity between points in space. It’s one of the more difficult magical arts, and generally requires you to know both the place you’re leaving and the place you’re going to very well. Unfortunately, I’m one of the minority of mages who can’t use gate magic. Divination can’t affect physical correspondence, only perception.
The next option is to use a mount, like a pegasus or an air elemental or a taia. It’s a lot slower than gating, but has the advantage that it can get you to a lot of places that gate magic can’t. Using a mount allows you to travel to warded locations, gives you the ability to explore places you don’t know, and also lets you show off your rare and expensive status symbol, if you’re into that sort of thing. The main downside is that mythical animals have a tendency to attract a lot of unwanted attention when you fly them through London in broad daylight.
For those who can’t gate and don’t have the luxury of a mount on call, there’s a third way. Crafters make items called gate stones that give someone with magical skill a limited access to gate magic. They only work for one location each, and they’re inferior in every way to a true gate spell, but for someone like me, they’re often the only way to get around.
Despite their name, gate stones don’t have to be stones. This one was though; a jagged shard of granite with runes cut into both sides. Standing in my bedroom, I made some preparations, then focused my will, said a sentence in the old tongue and pushed. For a long moment nothing happened, then with a shimmer a jagged-edged shape appeared in the air. Its edges were flickering, and I stepped through quickly before it could fade away. As soon as I was through it dissolved, leaving no trace behind me.
The first thing I noticed was the cold; the air was a good twenty degrees cooler than in my flat, and a chill breeze was blowing. The air was thinner too, and I shivered. I was on a mountaintop, hundreds of feet above sea level. The view to the left was just as spectacular as I remembered, and I turned to get a proper look. The mountain dropped off in a steepening slope into valleys and hills, descending steadily, clearly visible in the afternoon sunlight. Grassy slopes and granite peaks were spread out before me, and in the far east, just visible over the hilltops, I could make out the glitter of the sea. The sky above was cloudless and blue.
From behind came the clop, clop of hooves on rock. I turned, and smiled. ‘Hey, Thermopylae. How you doing?’
Thermopylae gave a pleased whinny as he trotted towards me. He was pure white but for his hooves and nose — a powerfully built horse with a scraggly tail that swished behind him as he walked. Two huge feathered wings stretched from his shoulders, each big enough for me to hide behind. They were half furled at the moment, swaying slightly as he balanced himself on the uneven stones. He came trotting up, his nose twitching, as I took some sugar out of my pocket and gave it to him, laughing as he butted me with his huge head in his eagerness to get to it.
‘Oi!’ a voice called from the north. ‘Stop spoiling my horse and come if you’re coming.’
I grinned and gave Thermopylae the last few lumps, then patted the pegasus on the neck and started walking. As I came around the rocks I saw an old, ramshackle hut made of planks of wood. A man who looked older than the hut was sitting on a stone in front of it, brewing tea over an open fire.
Helikaon looks about sixty, strong and spry despite his age. His hair was yellow-gold once, but now it’s a bleached white. Even in this weather he wore only a shirt, its sleeves rolled up and its neck open. A short sword, a xiphos, hung at his side, but he wore it so casually you wouldn’t notice unless you were looking. ‘Worst thing about living this high is getting the water to boil,’ he grumbled. ‘Least you’re on time.’
I sat down. ‘At least you haven’t lost your touch.’
‘None of your lip! I’ve forgotten more divination than you’ll ever know.’
‘It’s how much you remember I was wondering about.’
‘Oh, very funny.’ Helikaon glared at me. ‘You know the trouble with you lot nowadays? No respect for your elders. Thinking you know everything …’