I sensed the man’s lips curl in a smile. ‘Because I can see you … right now.’ As he said the last word another stream of black lightning flashed from his hand.
The black lightning was death magic, a kind of negative energy that kills by shutting down a body’s systems, especially the brain and heart. Death magic is incredibly fast, as quick as the lightning it resembles. As if that wasn’t enough, this particular attack was augmented with kinetic energy, giving it a physical punch as well. It’d be a real bitch to shield against, even if I could make shields, which I can’t.
But all the speed in the world doesn’t matter if the target’s not there. I’d ducked back out of sight as the man had cast his spell and the bolt struck the edge of the ventilator where my head had been, the lightning grounding as the impact made the metal shudder. I heard the man swear. ‘You know, I was expecting Cinder,’ I said conversationally. ‘Was he busy?’
‘Cinder’s a fool,’ the man snarled. I could sense he was off balance; he wasn’t used to missing.
‘He didn’t try to pick a fight with me,’ I said, then smiled into the darkness. ‘I’d say that makes him brighter than you … Khazad.’
The man — Khazad — stopped dead. ‘How do you know my name?’
‘What’s the matter, Khazad?’ I asked. ‘Bitten off more than you can chew?’
There was a moment’s silence, then from behind the chimney, Khazad stood up. Darkness flickered around him as he wove a shield. ‘I don’t scare as easily as Cinder,’ he said quietly, and began walking towards me.
So much for ending it the easy way. ‘So is this your way of asking me to join your team?’ I asked as Khazad closed in. ‘Because I’ve got to say, your sales pitch sucks.’
‘You can help us or you can die,’ Khazad said, and I could tell he was smiling. ‘I don’t mind which.’
Khazad had reached the parapet separating one roof from the next. He began to climb over it, slowly and carefully, keeping one hand free and his eyes on the ventilator. I took the opportunity to move back into the shadow of the chimney stacks, keeping the ventilator between him and me. Khazad’s feet came down onto the flat’s roof and he straightened. ‘Running already?’ he said mockingly.
‘You know, I can see why you make enemies like Morden,’ I said. ‘Your group really isn’t great on social skills.’
‘You’re not working for Morden,’ Khazad said calmly. ‘You don’t work for anybody. No one will care if you die here.’
Khazad had cleared the ventilator, but I’d been moving as well and now there was a chimney stack between us. There was a reason I’d chosen to fight Khazad up here. Death magic is deadly, but it needs a direct line of sight to its target. A fire mage like Cinder could have just burned the whole rooftop, but Khazad needed a clear shot. I changed direction, moving towards the drop to my left. ‘Just out of curiosity, how do you think killing me is going to help you get this relic?’
‘Who says I have to kill you?’ Khazad said. His voice was confident: he thought he was backing me up against the edge of the roof. Good. ‘All you have to do is do what I say.’
I’d backed into a dead end. The chimney stack I’d been hiding behind ended at the roof’s edge. Glancing down, I could see balconies and a cluttered alleyway with a dumpster. Khazad was fewer than thirty feet away, heading straight towards my hiding place.
Most mages have some way to use their magic to find people: fire mages can pick up a man’s body heat; air mages can feel his breath; life and mind mages can directly sense the presence and thoughts of a human being the same way that you can touch or taste. For death mages like Khazad, it works a little differently: they sense living creatures as an absence, a concentration of life where their magic can’t go. That was how Khazad had been able to sense me in the darkness, and it was how he was following me now.
I drew the crystal wand from my pocket and concentrated, channelling my magic through it. There was no effect to normal eyes, but to my mage’s sight the thing brightened, glowing. The wand is the simplest of all magic items, a battery. All it does is hold the magic and essence of the person who uses it. It doesn’t really do anything, but it’s very noticeable. There was a gutter on the edge of the roof, and I laid the wand in it. ‘You’ll have to find me first,’ I said over my shoulder, and flipped the hood of the mist cloak over my head. I took three quick steps backwards and pressed myself up against the chimney stack, going very still.
Let me tell you a bit about mist cloaks. They’re imbued items, with permanent magic of their own, and their basic function is to sense their surroundings and shift colour to match, camouflaging the bearer no matter where he is. Right now, I knew the mist cloak had shifted to match the bricks behind me, blending my shape with the chimney’s like a chameleon. As long as I didn’t move, the illusion would be perfect.
But mist cloaks have a second function which very few people know about: they also block detection spells. To magical senses, a human wearing a mist cloak gives off no reading, as though they aren’t there. From Khazad’s point of view, first he was sensing me, then he was sensing a source of magic coming from the exact same place that I’d been in a second ago. If he’d been paying close attention he might have noticed the flicker as the sources had switched, but he didn’t have any reason to think I’d moved. In fact, he didn’t even slow down. ‘Find you?’ he said, and I could tell he was smiling. ‘I already have-’
Khazad came around the corner and stopped. A few steps ahead of him was the edge of the roof, streetlights glowing dimly from below. I was just two steps to his right, pressed motionless against the chimney. This close, I could see the side of Khazad’s face behind the mask. His skin was light brown, and he was shorter than I was, small and lightly built. He was staring down at where the wand was hidden, just in front of him.
Mages have a tendency to over-rely on their magic. It’s human nature; if you have something that works ninety-nine per cent of the time, you tend to forget about the hundredth. Khazad’s eyes were telling him that there was nothing there, but his magic was telling him that there was something just over the edge, and it was his magic he trusted. He moved forward, his movements quick and jerky like a bird, his shield flickering as it dimmed the light behind him. He reached the very edge of the roof and stared down at the wand lying in the gutter.
I came up behind Khazad and shoved him hard in the small of the back. His shield stung my hands as it took the blow, but while kinetic shields can spread out an impact, they don’t do much to stop it. Khazad went flying over the edge with a shout. There was a crash as he hit the balcony, followed by a satisfying crunch.
I picked up the wand and dropped it back in my pocket, then turned and walked away, humming to myself. I didn’t bother checking to see how badly Khazad was hurt; he wasn’t going to be chasing me any more, which was all I cared about. I walked back to my roof, sat down and waited.
A couple of minutes later, something tickled my ear. I turned to see a semi-solid face made of swirling air just a few inches away, looking at me with wide eyes. ‘Boo!’
To ordinary eyes Starbreeze looks like air — that’s to say, invisible. To a mage’s sight she looks like an artist’s sketch done in lines of glowing vapour. Swirls of air magic make up her body, her shape changing from day to day depending on her mood. Today she was in one of her favourite forms: an elfin girl with short hair, big eyes and pointed ears. ‘Scared you!’
Starbreeze’s full name is about half a page long and lovely to hear, the sense of a rising wind over a snowy hillside, carrying with it the hint of spring, with the first stars of night appearing in the sky above. When I first met her I tried to remember it, until I found that she changes it every time she’s asked. Now I just call her Starbreeze like everyone else. Starbreeze is an air elemental, a spirit of wind. She can fly or shift her form with no more effort than it takes you or I to walk. She can feel the movement of a butterfly from across a field, hear a whisper from halfway across the world. She’s ancient and timeless. I don’t know how old she is, but I think she might have been born at the time the world was made.