Ouch. An interdiction spell. I concentrated and a thousand versions of myself explored the room in a thousand projected futures, looking for a way out besides the door. There wasn’t one. I withdrew and nodded to myself: a gilded cage. I could probably break the window lock given time, but for now it wasn’t worth the risk. I walked to the door.
It opened into a living room. Comfortable-looking sofas and chairs upholstered in red leather filled the floor, while paintings of ancient battles decorated the walls. A fire burned in a fireplace, and the room was warmly lit. Doors led deeper into the mansion.
Settled in one of the chairs, the light sinking into his black hair, was Morden. He had one leg crossed ankle to knee, and was reading from a folder. ‘Ah, Verus,’ he said, not raising his eyes from the page. ‘I’m glad you’re up. Take a seat.’
I walked to one of the sofas facing Morden. Without even looking, I knew that my future depended on the decisions of the man sitting in front of me. Pissing him off would not be a good idea. Morden kept reading for half a minute longer, then nodded to himself, closed the folder and looked up. ‘Good to see you on your feet. I hope you’re feeling better?’
I nodded. ‘Just fine, thank you.’
‘Excellent. First of all, I have to apologise for the way you were brought here. I’d hoped to resolve things peacefully, but your three pursuers seem to have more persistence than sense and, well, you were in the blast radius. I took the liberty of making sure your injuries were healed. I hope there are no hard feelings.’
I’d only gotten a short look at Morden last night. His hair and eyebrows were jet-black and he had the smooth good looks of someone who’d taken the time to develop them. Physically he could have been thirty, but his voice and eyes told a different story. If I’d had to guess I’d have said Morden was older than he looked, maybe much older. At the moment he was sitting easily, welcoming, and everything about his pose suggested hospitality. How much of that was true I’d find out soon enough.
Morden had been waiting for me to answer, and I finally spoke. ‘None,’ I said. ‘You don’t need to apologise. Given the circumstances when you showed up, I’m grateful.’
Morden waved a hand. ‘As I told you last night, I had some business to discuss with you. As a matter of fact, this has worked out quite conveniently.’
I nodded, though my attention was only partly on Morden’s words. Ever since stepping into the room, I’d been looking into the future. Both Morden and the mansion around us radiated power but I couldn’t detect any immediate danger. It didn’t seem like he was planning to hurt me. At least, not yet.
‘Well, then,’ Morden said. ‘What do you want?’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘What do you want?’ Morden repeated. He had a way of curving his lips up slightly as he spoke. It made it look as though he was smiling even when he wasn’t. ‘What are you looking to get out of this?’
‘Out of what?’
‘Come now, Verus. This affair over the Precursor relic and its contents. You’ve become involved, so obviously you must have some reason. What’s motivating you?’
‘Well … right now, staying alive would be good.’
Morden shook his head. ‘Oh, I think you can do better than that.’
‘Um, staying alive is a pretty big motivation for me.’
‘If survival was your priority, you’d be in hiding like the other diviners. How is Helikaon, by the way? It’s a pity he’s decided to sit this one out. I always enjoyed working with him.’
I didn’t reply. ‘Let’s try this another way,’ Morden said. ‘Who would you like to see gain possession of the fateweaver?’
‘Depends what’s in it for me.’
Morden shook his head again, still smiling slightly. ‘That won’t fly either, I’m afraid. You aren’t a mercenary.’
‘If you know so much about me,’ I said evenly, ‘why do you need to ask?’
‘Oh, I know your motivations. I’m simply curious whether you do.’
I stayed silent. ‘Did you know that we’ve met before?’ Morden said. ‘Before last night? I expect you don’t remember; it was ten years ago. We met at a tournament. You were apprenticed to Richard at the time, but I recall you quite clearly. We spoke for a few minutes before you were called away.’
‘You’ve got a good memory.’
‘I was disappointed to hear you and your master had fallen out,’ Morden said. ‘Still, I wasn’t surprised when you reappeared. Most of the others assumed you dead, but I had always had the feeling you’d be back. You’re resourceful, Verus. It’s a quality I admire.’
I didn’t answer. In my time as Richard’s apprentice, I’d met hundreds of Dark mages, often briefly; it was quite believable that Morden had been one of them. What bothered me was how much he seemed to know. Dark mages tend to have good intelligence networks, but there were very few who knew all the details from that time. ‘We have a word for mages such as you, Verus,’ Morden said. ‘Rogues. Mages who reject the tradition in which they’ve been trained. Most look down on them, but in truth some of the most powerful mages in history have been rogues … on both sides. Of those, several of the most famous have been ones who ended up rejoining the tradition in which they were raised.’ Morden steepled his fingers and looked at me with raised eyebrows, as if waiting for something.
It took me a moment to get it. ‘Are you … suggesting something?’
‘More of an offer, actually. Competent diviners are so rare. One of the reasons Richard went to such an effort to recruit you, and why he was so disappointed at how things turned out.’
Richard had gone to an effort to recruit me? He’d always acted as though it had been something casual. ‘I thought you said rogues weren’t highly thought of.’
‘I believe in second chances.’ Morden tilted his head. ‘It can’t have escaped your attention that you could use some allies. As things stand, you’re friends with neither the Dark alliance nor the Council of the Light.’
‘I wasn’t aware there was a Dark alliance.’
‘At present?’ Morden smiled. ‘If the fateweaver should be retrieved, I’m sure you can see how things might change.’
‘Yes …’ I said. ‘Listen, given that you seem to know so much about me, I’m assuming you know that my last association with Dark mages didn’t exactly end well. For any of us.’
Morden shrugged. ‘A certain degree of conflict is expected in the apprenticeship process.’
‘That’s one way to put it.’
‘Remember, Verus, you never completed your training. Disagreements such as yours are quite normal. Their purpose is to teach an apprentice the True Path. In your case, while events certainly didn’t go well, the end result would have been considered acceptable, I think. You’re a Dark mage in all but name already.’
‘No, I’m not,’ I said sharply. The words were out before I could think.
‘It’s natural you should be unhappy at the comparison,’ Morden said calmly. ‘You associate the name of a Dark mage with Richard’s behaviour. But being a Dark mage doesn’t mean being destructive or vicious. We don’t believe in evil for its own sake, or any of the silly propaganda that others spread. We simply recognise the truth — that all definitions of good and evil ultimately come down to points of view. You no doubt consider Richard’s behaviour evil. He would have disagreed. But think for a moment. How did you eventually survive?’
‘On my own.’
‘Exactly.’ Morden pointed at me. ‘You didn’t waste time trying to convince Richard that you were right and he was wrong. You broke away with your own abilities.’
‘I know what I did.’ A part of me remembered that I shouldn’t piss Morden off, but it was getting harder and harder. ‘I was there.’
Morden simply watched. I took a deep breath, and slowly regained my cool. ‘What are you trying to say?’ I finally asked.
‘I’m simply pointing out the obvious. You survived and escaped because you were powerful enough, which is, of course, what this is really all about. If you hadn’t, none of your beliefs would have mattered. Certainly the Council doesn’t seem to share your views about, well,’ Morden raised an eyebrow, ‘anything, really. I’m sure you know they’re never going to accept you. They didn’t employ you for this job until they’d exhausted literally every other alternative, even though you were more than qualified. So, once again,’ Morden looked at me pleasantly, ‘you’re an enemy of the Council; you live on your wits and your power. Effectively, you’re a Dark mage in all but name — except for one thing.’